House for Sale: Does the Wine Cellar Come With It? A Talmudic Guide to Real Estate!

So, you’re thinking about selling your home? Or maybe you’re eyeing that perfect new place with a courtyard that screams, "I’m fancy, and I know it!" Before you sign on the dotted line, let’s take a quick trip back in time—like, way back—to the Talmudic era, where our ancient sages were already dealing with the same real estate drama we face today. Yes, really. Welcome to Bava Batra 69a, where property deals get as real as they can in the ancient world. Grab your coffee, and let’s dive in!

Imagine this: You’ve just sold your apartment, but when the buyer moves in, they’re surprised (not in a good way) that the beanbag chair and record player aren’t part of the deal. Awkward. The Talmud’s got your back here. According to Bava Batra 69a, if you sell a house and don’t mention the furniture, the buyer gets the house—and only the house. So if you’ve got any family heirlooms or that vintage couch everyone loves, you better be clear about what stays and what goes.

Now, what if you’re selling a courtyard? This is where things get interesting. The Talmud says if you sell a courtyard, it’s a package deal. The buyer gets everything in it—houses, pits, ditches, caves. It’s like an ancient version of “buy one, get the whole kit and caboodle.” So if there’s a mysterious well or that sketchy cave you’ve been meaning to block off, guess what? The new owner is now in charge of those, too.

But let’s say you’re selling your house, and it comes with a swanky wine cellar. According to our Talmudic experts, that underground treasure trove isn’t included in the sale unless you explicitly say so. If you’re attached to your vintage wines, you’ve got to be crystal clear about keeping that cellar off the market. On the flip side, if you write up the deal and say, "Everything inside is yours," then yep, the new homeowner is going to be raising a glass in your old cellar.

So, what’s the moral of this ancient real estate tale? Whether you’re dealing with courtyards in ancient Israel or condos in the city, the rules are timeless: Be clear about what’s included in the sale. Whether it’s a house, a backyard, or that sweet underground man cave, don’t leave room for confusion. The Talmud might be thousands of years old, but when it comes to property deals, it’s as sharp as ever. Before you sell your place, channel your inner Talmudic sage and make sure your sale contract covers all the details. That way, everyone knows what they’re getting—whether it’s just four walls or the whole shebang. Happy selling!

Pesachim 117a: How to Attract Divine Vibes with Joy, Humor, and a Little Respect

So, here’s the deal: the Shekhinah—basically, the divine VIP pass—isn’t just going to show up in your life because you’re sitting around, binge-watching Netflix in your pajamas, or stressing over that last-minute deadline. Nope, the Shekhinah doesn’t vibe with laziness, sadness, or any of that idle chit-chat. Instead, it’s all about the joy, but not just any joy—it’s the joy that comes from doing a mitzvah, like when you nail that perfect challah braid, or give a little tzedakah with a smile.

Picture this: the prophet Elisha was having a rough day—he was mad at the king and, guess what? His prophetic mojo just up and left him. So what did he do? He didn’t mope around; he called for some tunes. And just like that, with a little music, the divine inspiration came flooding back. The lesson? If you want to feel that divine connection, get into a positive groove. It’s like putting on your favorite playlist to get pumped before a big event—only this time, the event is your spiritual life.

And it’s not just about feeling good before a mitzvah or study session. Rav Yehuda and Rav Nachman remind us that this joy thing is also essential before diving into serious stuff like halakha or even heading to bed for a good dream. Joy sets the stage—it’s like the perfect intro to your favorite podcast, getting you in the right mindset.

But wait, someone might say, "Shouldn’t studying Torah be a serious, no-nonsense affair?" Well, yes and no. Rav Giddel points out that students should definitely have some healthy respect (okay, maybe a bit of fear) when learning from their teachers, so their lips should be "dripping with bitterness." Think of it like sitting front row in a tough professor’s lecture—there’s no goofing off here.

But here’s where it gets interesting. This whole joy versus seriousness thing isn’t a contradiction; it’s about timing. When you start off, throw in a little humor—lighten the mood, get everyone engaged. It’s like the opening monologue of a late-night show. But once the teaching starts, that’s when you switch gears to serious mode, because Torah study is no joke. This approach was the secret sauce of Rabba’s teaching style: he’d crack a joke to get everyone into it, then dive deep into the serious stuff.

So, what’s the takeaway? If you want to invite the Shekhinah into your life, don’t just sit around waiting for it. Engage in mitzvot with joy, set the right tone with a little humor, and respect the serious moments when they come. It’s about finding that balance—like knowing when to dance at a wedding and when to listen to the rabbi’s speech. Embrace the joy, respect the process, and you might just find yourself with a front-row seat to divine inspiration.

This blog is in the zechut of Chana Sussie bat Leah. May HaShem help her attain her hearts desires speedily with complete emuna as well as klal Israel!

In my book Pick Me Up HaShem, you’ll find many prayers that explore how HaShem is constantly drawing us closer to Him, inviting us into a deeper relationship through prayer and reflection. These prayers are designed to help you connect with the divine presence in a way that transcends mere requests and taps into the true purpose of prayer.

If you’re ready to dive deeper into these spiritual truths, consider studying Kabbalah, the mystical tradition that unlocks the profound secrets of our reality and draws us closer to HaShem’s divine wisdom. Delve into teachings that illuminate the “why” behind the Torah, connecting the layers of Creation in a synergized whole and offering a glimpse of HaShem in a way no other study can. From the timeless wisdom of Rabbi Chaim Vital and the Arizal to the unifying insights of Rabbi Sar-Shalom Sharabi (Rashash), Kabbalah not only transforms your spiritual understanding but also brings peace, protection, and redemption closer to our world. Sponsor my study in this sacred tradition and receive its blessings for sustenance, health, and family, ensuring that the powerful light of Kabbalah shines in your merit.

Chapter 8 of Eight Chapters by Rambam

Chapter 8 of Rambam’s "Eight Chapters" tackles a subject that might just blow your mind—free will. You might think this is a topic best left to philosophers in armchairs with their cigars and long-winded debates, but let's break it down in a way that even your group chat would appreciate.

So, here's the deal: Rambam is basically saying that people aren’t born naturally good or evil. It’s not like you pop out of the womb ready to be a saint or a villain. Instead, we’re all born with a blank slate, a kind of "you-do-you" potential. Sure, some people might have a bit of a head start in certain areas—like that friend who seems to pick up languages like they’re playing Duolingo on cheat mode—but being inclined towards something isn’t the same as being predestined.

Think of it like this: Imagine two people, both trying to learn how to juggle. One might be naturally more coordinated, catching those balls with ease, while the other can barely manage to keep them in the air for more than two seconds. Now, the first person might become a juggling superstar with minimal effort, while the second might need a lot of practice and maybe a few black eyes before they get the hang of it. Rambam’s point is that, with enough work, even the clumsiest juggler can become great, and no one is doomed to drop the ball forever.

But here’s where things get spicy. Rambam is basically dunking on astrologers and anyone who thinks the stars decide your fate. He’s like, “You seriously think your birth month means you’re destined to be good at math or terrible at relationships? Nah, dude.” According to Rambam, we’re in control of our actions, and the stars have nothing to do with whether you ace that exam or bomb it because you spent the night before binge-watching Netflix.

Now, let’s get a bit more existential (but stick with me, it’s worth it). Rambam argues that if we were predestined to act a certain way—like, say, to be jerks or saints—then what’s the point of having laws, commandments, or even the whole concept of reward and punishment? It’d be like punishing your dog for barking when you’ve trained it to bark on command. It doesn’t make sense, right?

This brings us to the idea of God’s knowledge versus human free will. This is where things get deep. Rambam says, sure, God knows everything that’s going to happen, but that doesn’t mean He’s making you do it. It's not like you're a character in a video game that God is controlling. You're more like a player with free will to make your own choices—good or bad.

And if you’re thinking, “But wait, if God knows what I’m going to do, doesn’t that mean I have to do it?” Rambam would tell you to take a deep breath and chill. Just because God knows what’s going to happen doesn’t mean you didn’t choose to do it. Imagine knowing your friend is definitely going to pick pizza over sushi, but it’s still their choice. God’s knowledge is like that—He knows, but He’s not the one making the decision for you.

In essence, what Rambam is saying is that our lives are our own, full of choices that we can freely make, and this is what gives meaning to commandments, education, and moral improvement. If we were just puppets on strings, none of that would matter. So, every time you decide to do something—whether it’s hitting the gym or hitting snooze—you’re exercising your free will. And that’s pretty powerful.

Now, you might be thinking, “But what about all those times in the Torah where it seems like God is making people do stuff?” Good question. Rambam dives into that too, saying those situations are special cases. Like when Pharaoh's heart was hardened—it wasn't about God taking away Pharaoh's free will from the start. Pharaoh was already a bad dude, and God just ensured he stuck to his guns to see through the consequences of his choices.

At the end of the day, Rambam wants you to realize that you have the power to change, to make decisions, and to shape your destiny. You’re not a passive participant in the grand scheme of things. You have the capacity to learn, to grow, and to choose your path—whether that’s towards greatness, or, well, the opposite. And in case you’re wondering, yes, that means you can always choose to pick up juggling again, no matter how many balls you’ve dropped.