Today's daf is Yevamot 68. It's in the middle of a fairly technical discussion that I am having trouble following. So, instead, I offer something from this week's parsha.

At the beginning of this week's parsha, in Gen 37:3, we're told that Yaakov's favorite son was Yosef because Yosef was "a son of his old age". But wait, I wondered upon reading this -- his brother Binyamin is even younger! Further, Yaakov's beloved, favorite wife died in childbirth with Binyamin, so in a sense he's an especially precious gift to Yaakov. Why isn't he the favorite "son of Yaakov's old age"? Curious and finding no help in the commentaries to hand (mainly Rashi), I asked on Mi Yodeya. I learned a few opinions there:

• The Chizkuni says that Binyamin is a reminder of Rachel's death, which counts against him (through no fault of his own, of course, but still a painful memory). I had wondered about that possibility.
• The Ralbag (among others) says that Yosef was the long-awaited son of the beloved wife, Rachel. Rather a bit of time passed while Leah was having child after child. Along similar lines, the Sifsei Chachamim says a lot of time passed between Yosef and Binyamin, so Yosef was "the youngest son" for a long time and the role stuck.
• Radak says Yosef had the wisdom of an older man.
• And finally (for now), the Ramban (Nachmanides) says that Yosef was the son who served his father in Yaakov's old age -- he was the one who was always there to take care of his father's needs, so naturally they formed a special bond. Binyamin was too young during these critical years and the other brothers were busy shepherding.

On Yom Kippur afternoon we recall the service of the high priest on the day of atonement. The mishna tells us of the preparations made on behalf of the high priest: seven days ahead of time he is secluded, and a back-up high priest is appointed lest anything cause the original one to become unfit for duty. Rabbi Yehudah said that in addition, another wife is prepared for the high priest in case his wife dies in that time, because it is written "he shall make atonement for himself and his house"; "his house" includes his wife. (Yoma 2a)

(As you might expect, the mishna also discusses in a fair bit of detail the preparations on the night before and day of the service.)

I think after Simchat Torah, instead of doing parsha teachings for another year, I'm going to switch to teaching something from talmud, following the daf yomi (page a day) cycle. We'll see how that goes.

The parsha tells us that when we enter the land, we are to bring the first fruits of our fields to the temple for an offering. When we do so we are to make a declaration beginning "Arami oveid avi", which we know from the Pesach haggadah -- "my father was a wandering (or fugitive) Aramean". This refers to Avraham. But Rashi interprets the verse differently; "Arami oveid avi" means, to him, "an Aramean sought to destroy my father". This refers to Lavan, who tried to cheat Yaakov. Both our humble beginnings and the threats we have encountered along the way are worth remembering when we thank God for his blessings.

This week's parsha contains the directive "tzedek tzedek tirdof" -- "justice, justice you shall pursue". The rabbis ask why "tzedek" is repeated and give various explanations. Rabbi Ashi says that the first "tzedek" is the justice of following the law strictly, and the second is the justice of compromise. For example, when two ships seek to use the same narrow passage at the same time, they might have equal claims under the first tzedek but must compromise under the second (lest they both sink). Compromise is not merely pragmatic but commanded. (Sanhedrin 32b)

(I learned the following midrash from Dr. Jonah Steinberg.)

In this week's parsha Moshe retells the giving of the torah. The midrash says that when God spoke each utterance, it (the utterance itself, personified) would go to each and every Israelite and ask "do you accept me upon you?", describing the restrictions and rewards that came with it. When the Israelite said "yes" the utterance would kiss him and teach him torah. This is what is meant by the verse "lest you forget the things that your eyes saw" -- it refers to seeing the utterance speak. (Song of Songs Rabbah 1:2, which itself takes off from "let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth".)

(Aside: this same midrash records a minority view, that each utterance was carried by an angel to each Israelite and it was the angels who did the asking, based on a different proof-text. In that version, the angel also asks the Israelite to accept God's divinity. Neither version addresses what would have happened in response to a "no".)

When Tzelof'chad died without any sons, his daughters went to Moshe and said "give us an inheritance". Rabbi Natan says that this shows that the tenacity of women is stronger than that of men: when Israel was told to take the land the men rejected their inheritance, saying "let us go back to Egypt". The women, instead, said "give us an inheritance". (Sifrei 133)

The torah tells us that when the people rebelled and demanded water, Moshe struck the rock twice. Why twice? He hit it once and a trickle of water came out. The people mocked him, saying "is that all you can do?" At that he became angry and struck the rock a second time, and enough water gushed out to push things out of its path. (Tanchuma, Chukat 9)

In this week's parsha God tells Moshe to appoint 70 elders, who will receive prophecy. 70 does not divide evenly by 12, which left Moshe with the problem of choosing the elders fairly. The talmud tells us he devised a lottery, choosing six men from each of the 12 tribes and having them draw lots for the 70 positions. However, Eldad and Medad said "we are not worthy" and withdrew, so God rewarded them with prophecy too. Not only that, but their prophecy was ongoing, while that of the other 70 was temporary. (Sanhedrin 17a)

The rabbis ask why the torah was given in the midbar, the wilderness. One commonly-cited answer is that it was given in a place not claimed by anyone to show that the torah is available to all. Another is that it was to teach us about openness: just as the desert is open to all influences, so must we be open if we are to adopt torah. We must be open to new perspectives and ready to examine and experiment with others' interpretations rather than closing our minds and thinking we know the truth. (Pesikta d'Rav Kahanah 107a)

I'd love to know the context for this one; I saw this passage quoted in another source but don't have the original.

(I didn't actually give this one today; I deferred to someone else in leading the service.)

This week's parsha repeats the laws for when one wounds another, saying "eye for eye, hand for hand, wound for wound" and so on. The talmud says not to take this literally and institutes fines instead, bringing various linguistic arguments to justify the change. Ibn Ezra, citing the Sa'adia Gaon, instead brings a practical argument: what if one man's vision is not equal to another's? Or what if someone causes another to lose partial vision -- how would you know when you had inflicted a like amount of damage? And, the Sa'adia says, this kind of judgement is even harder in the case of wounds. Clearly, he says, the Torah never meant this to describe physical punishment, as it would be impossible to administer it fairly. (Ibn Ezra on Lev 24:17-22)