A Weighty and Awe-Inspiring Inquiry into the Law of a Tam Ox that Gored on a “Triple Purim” (Column 373)

With God’s help

Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.

We find in the holy work “Write It Upon the Horn of the Ox,” in the section “The Mu’ad Ox for Every Living Being,” with the mnemonic “BNoT Tza’adah ‘al YeshuR TaM,” that a novel question arose: the law of a tam (non-habitual) ox that gored three times over the three days of a Triple Purim. And the simpleton (the tam) rolled on the ground before his teachers, asking whether in such a case this counts as having become established (mu’ad) with respect to its owner or not. There he cited the foremost of the greats, the author of A Triple Ram with Equal Shanks (an “isosceles” triangle-pun; attributed to our master Parshandata the Agagite), who held that this is considered like three gorings in one day. But in A Right-Angled Triple Heifer (the Luvistha al Atzitz, nicknamed “our master, the Master of the Exile”), he disagreed and wrote that these are three separate gorings on three separate days. And as is well known, questions multiplied in every generation regarding this grave law, and there was no carpenter to take them apart—until I, the lowly one, girded myself like a man of valor and said to my soul: “Live, and we shall pass over, and I shall chart a course through the sea and a path through mighty waters,” until the verse was fulfilled in me, “A bird did not chirp,” and a vision we did not hear save for a voice; and likewise, “All the king’s servants who were in the king’s gate bowed down and prostrated themselves”—and rightly so. And this is my beginning, with God’s help.

At first glance, my expansive mind thought that this law surely depends on whether the three days of a Triple Purim are considered one long day or as three distinct days. For if they are all like one day, it seems obvious that the law follows our master, the author of A Triple Ram, that there is no hoda’ah (establishment as mu’ad) here and the owner pays half-damages. But if they are like three days, then it is proper as written by “Maran the Master of the Exile” that the ox has become mu’ad with its owner “from yesterday and the day before,” and he must pay full damages. All Israel saw the voices, and to the hearing of the ear our soul pined away; the entire world was astonished as one at the words issuing from the mouth of one like the High Priest emerging from the Holy of Holies. And after the astonishment ended, there came a precious light and a frost, and the Lord was not in the noise. Suddenly, fine words came out of my mouth on this sugya; under my feet it became like “a pavement of sapphire,” all my words like bright light, and beneath the wings of the Shekhinah I, the lowly “holy one,” shone and gave light. The wall was breached and the city roared—who is the one whose heart emboldened him to come after the great man, and to whom the scepter was not extended, whose single law would be to be put to death? And he shall not come before the king in sackcloth—unless he is one whose wisdom is in the spindle (that is, a woman).

At the outset, my humble and lofty opinion inclined to preface what our sages disputed regarding that triple phrase in the Covenant Between the Parts, where the Merciful One said: “And He said to him: Take for Me a heifer, meshuleshet (tripled), and a she-goat, meshuleshet, and a ram, meshulesh, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” All our rabbis were bewildered and struck with their staffs over this triple-ness upon triple-ness: what is the matter with this “triple” in triplicate? Rashi there explains: “A ‘tripled heifer’—three heifers, a hint to the three bulls: the bull of Yom Kippur, the bull for a communal error, and the heifer whose neck is broken.” And so too Onkelos the proselyte writes: “Bring before Me three heifers and three goats and three rams and a turtledove and a young pigeon.” We learn that according to these authorities, “a tripled heifer” means three heifers. But the Targum attributed to Yonatan there disagrees: “Bring before Me a heifer three-years-old, a goat three-years-old, and a ram three-years-old, and a turtledove and a young pigeon.” We see that, according to him, “a tripled heifer” is a single heifer, three years old. (Some have omitted here that the two heifers and the rams were consumed by the holy fire of Yonatan ben Uzziel, and therefore we rise to his single opinion.) Both interpretations are also brought by R. Avraham Ibn Ezra: “‘A tripled goat’—some say three goats; what seems correct to me is a goat three years old.”

Accordingly, it would appear that regarding Triple Purim these two interpretations also apply: per Rashi and the Proselyte (Onkelos), it seems that it denotes three separate days (for why should Triple Purim differ from a tripled heifer? And should you say that a heifer is female and, as is known, we minimize mention of females out of modesty—that is not so, for it also mentions a “tripled ram”). But per Targum Yonatan, it seems to be one Purim spanning three days (a “fat Purim,” as it were). Indeed, it seems like Pharaoh’s dream—one fat day swallowed up those three lean days.

True, one might challenge this proof from the rule (Avodah Zarah 58b; Chullin 137b) that “the language of the Torah is one thing and the language of the Sages another,” and one should not bring proof from the “tripled” of Scripture (ox, heifer) to the “Triple” of Purim in the language of the Sages. And even if prophecy was taken from the prophets, it was not taken from the sages, I still wondered: perhaps “triple” in rabbinic idiom means something else than “tripled” in Scripture. So I set my heart to tour in wisdom and to search and burrow in the words of the Sages and their riddles—“let us search out our ways and investigate.” And the Lord prospered my way, and the beki’ut (breadth) I received in the tradition from our master the Shakh (of blessed towering memory) helped me align with the truth of Torah. The wise at that time shall keep silent—and make himself as a footstool to my feet—lest he eat from the red, red stew; and “holy” shall be said of him—“Who is this that comes from Edom?”

Behold, in the sugya of Tashlumei Ta’anit (make-up fasts) in Ta’anit 12b we find: “R. Yehoshua son of R. Idi came to the house of Rav Assi; they prepared for him an ‘‘egla tilta’.” Likewise in Chullin 133a, Shabbat 11a, Sanhedrin 65b (and 67b), Eruvin 63a, and elsewhere. All those “‘egla tilta” are clearly the Sages’ idiom corresponding to Scripture’s “tripled heifer.” And happy is he whose eyes the Lord enlightens—I saw, and behold, a well of water. Rashi on Shabbat 11a explains: “Third of the womb—this is the best, for when the animal is young it is not yet strong, and the first and second offspring are not robust.” But on Eruvin 63a he explains: “It has grown a third (of its full growth), and then its meat has reached its prime flavor; as we learned (Bava Metzia 68a): ‘One may raise them until they are meshulashim (one-third grown),’ and we also say (there 69a): ‘The third’s increase—toward your wage,’ showing that its normal growth goes until a third; another explanation: third of the womb. But this is difficult given what is said elsewhere (Sanhedrin 65b): R. Ḥanina and R. Oshaia studied Sefer Yetzirah, and every eve of Shabbat they would create for themselves an ‘‘igla tilta.’ There, what ‘third of the womb’ is there?—it was never in a womb!”

It seems his conclusion is “grown a third,” not “third of the womb.” This apparently does not align with his earlier explanation for “tripled heifer,” but, as noted, the language of the Sages is one thing and the language of the Torah another—no need to lengthen. See also Rashi to Sanhedrin 65b s.v. ‘igla tilta. True, Tosafot in Gittin 56a wrote that it comes from the verse “and thirty over all of it,” meaning: robust and good.

Be that as it may, it appears all mean one thing: an “‘egla tilta” is a particularly fat and good calf. In several places it is pronounced ‘igla tilta rather than ‘egla, and perhaps there is some difference—still requires investigation.

We thus have in hand, with the help of Heaven, that “tripled” in the language of the Sages differs from the language of the Torah; from this we ascend and descend to conclude that “Triple Purim” is not one long day and not three days either, but rather a day that is fat and good. Yet we may reconcile the Sages’ idiom with Scripture’s idiom so they align with the Ineffable Name, and then “the Lord will be King and His name One.” For it is obvious that a “long day” is a fat and good day; thus Triple Purim is indeed like one long day—namely, a “fat” day (within which lie three days, and “three nations will issue from its bowels”)—and it is good.

Now, out of wine vapors—even though they have not yet come into the world—there rose in my mind an earth-shaking novelty in a weighty sugya in tractate Megillah: perhaps the incident that Rabbah arose and slaughtered R. Zeira at the Purim feast (Megillah 7b) occurred on a Triple Purim; and because of R. Zeira’s girth (for which he needed to fast a hundred fasts upon ascending to the Land, Bava Metzia 85a, otherwise his flesh would not withstand the travails of the road), Rabbah deemed him an ‘egla tilta, and therefore slaughtered him for the Purim feast. From here I also thought to find a hint that the Fast of Esther is from the Torah: she too needed to sit in fasting, to diet, so that the explicit verse would be fulfilled in her—“and Esther donned royalty” (i.e., it should fit).

Yet there is still room to deliberate: in a Triple Purim, the halakhah is that the feast is held only on the third day (which is Sunday), as it is said, “On the third day [after the diet] Esther donned royalty”; whereas the Megillah is read on the first day (Friday). Thus we see that Triple Purim becomes fat and good only on the third day (at the feast). How, then, can all the days of Triple Purim be called one fat and good day? We are forced to say that the three days of Triple Purim are like one long day; and its end proves its beginning—for if at its end it is fat and good, it proves that all of it is deemed fat and good. And as is fitting to say (Bava Metzia 17b): “Were it not that you lifted up the potsherd, you would not have found the pearl beneath it.”

As stated in my holy words above, a great practical difference lies under that pearl beneath the potsherd. For behold, we are fortunate to address the law of a tam ox that gored on the three days of a Triple Purim; we conclude that it remains a tam in all respects, and the owner pays half-damages—so that they will guard his ox (pun on lintri le-toré). Thus wrote the author of A Triple Ram above. Yet if so, the words of the author of A Tripled Heifer are puzzling, for he maintained the ox becomes mu’ad. But here we see that it is proven that these days are one long day, and this ox is like one that gored three times in a single day—how then would it become mu’ad?!

It is true that this law hangs on the Tannaitic dispute regarding three gorings in one day—R. Meir and R. Yehudah (Bava Kamma 23b–24a), and both are “the words of the living God.” Perhaps we could propose that the author of A Tripled Heifer follows R. Meir, who says there is establishing even within one day (“if spacing his gorings makes him liable, then if he closes the intervals between the gorings—how much more so”). But if you will challenge me, challenge thus: the halakhah is established by all the decisors like R. Yehudah, that with three gorings in one day, it does not become mu’ad—a difficulty. And do not answer me from the Tuv Ta’am VaDa’at (Orach Ḥayyim 114) in the name of Maharam of Rothenburg, who ruled like R. Meir; for Maran, the master of that holy place, already struck him on the head regarding this, and this is not the place to expand. Rather, prima facie we may say that our Tripled Heifer master holds that in our case even R. Yehudah would agree it becomes mu’ad; for although, legally, these three days have the law of one day, nonetheless in fact they were three separate days, and for the matter of establishing (hoda’ah) we follow the reality, not the legal fiction.

After reviewing the chapter a hundred and one times, I saw yet another reconciliation, based on what Maran R. Kook wrote in Pri Etz Hadar: among gentiles we follow the empirical reality, whereas among Jews we follow the halakhah (regarding a twitching carcass—whether it is considered alive or properly slaughtered). If so, we could say that we are locating the words of the Baal ha-Golah in a case where a Jew’s ox gored a gentile’s ox; therefore, with respect to its becoming mu’ad we follow reality, not the legal status. True, the halakhah is that we judge them by our laws whenever they would thereby lose, for “her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are guile,” and here a mu’ad ox pays full damages—this would be a stringency for the son of the covenant and a leniency for the son of Noah; this still requires great analysis.

Yet all this must be weighed by reason: why does R. Yehudah hold that it does not become mu’ad in a single day? Because we can ascribe its gorings to a special natural cause—that perhaps its propensity to gore was only on that day; therefore, it does not become mu’ad for all days. If so, in Triple Purim, even though in fact there were three days, and even if we follow reality rather than legal status, we can still attribute all its gorings to the cause of Purim (perhaps that righteous ox gores only on a fat and good day). Like a woman who sees blood on the monthly veset date—we attribute it to the calendar set by the court. Consequently, the ox would not become mu’ad for all days. According to our approach, however, it would become mu’ad for the days of Purim each year (and some say: only for Triple Purim days). And once more we can revisit Rabbah’s slaughtering of R. Zeira—perhaps he saw him as an ‘egla tilta and slaughtered him, holding like R. Eliezer in Reish ha-Kones that there is no guarding except with a knife—and that is clear.

But we have already learned from our master the Shakh (the aforementioned “master of beki’ut”) Yoreh De’ah 189:13, that “the heart of kings and princes is in the hand of the Lord,” and nature is given to the sages to rule over—“the righteous decrees and the Holy One… is astonished and amazed.” For we hold that a girl of three years has her virginity restored; and in the Jerusalem Talmud (Ketubot) it says that if half a month passes, her virginity returns—“a girl of three is like a girl of zero with respect to sin.” As is known, they bring there the verse “I call to God Most High, to God Who accomplishes it for me.” And who will come before the King?—“Who are kings? The rabbis.” If so, from the moment the sages established Triple Purim to be one day, it becomes, in actual reality, one day; and consequently, even per R. Yehudah, the ox would not become mu’ad in our case. Yet one who understands the words of sages and their riddles will see that the words of the Tripled Heifer—all words of received tradition and prophecy—still require analysis.

In the margins of my words it seemed that if we are dealing with an ox that gored a gentile’s ox, we should bring our bread from afar and attach this to that law called in foreign tongue “incarnation” (a notarikon: ein keren etzel menatzim—“there is no horn among the deniers”). There we find that our rabbis, the twelve emissaries (of sainted memory), counted and concluded that among the gentiles there are three that are one (cf. “wisdom among the nations—believe”). (Although one must still discuss who is “the father,” who is “the son,” and who is “the holy spirit.” Perhaps the first day of Triple Purim is the “holy spirit,” crying out: “Woe to the children who have been exiled from their Father’s table!”) If so, Triple Purim is properly one day, and the ox does not become mu’ad, for its three gorings were on one day, and the owner is clean (pays half). In this way we also “beat the gentiles with their own law,” leaving for ourselves half their property—lest that righteous one say: “He fulfilled ‘they enslaved and afflicted them,’ but did not fulfill ‘afterwards they shall go out with great wealth’”—so we fulfilled at least “with half the wealth.” Thus all our ways are pleasantness and peace, and His great name is sanctified in the world by those who think upon and fear His name.

It is true that we find a dispute between Copenhagen and my lowly self (the “holy one”) in that creed: whether those three are truly one or not—akin to saying, “Let it be as a Tannaic dispute” like those authorities of A Triple Ram and A Tripled Heifer. At least according to the Baal DeBavi, who holds that all three truly have the law of one day (though he, according to his way, saw therein a heresy), it is obvious that so it is for us too—shall a priest’s daughter be as a tavern-keeper?! For we hold there is nothing that is forbidden to a son of Noah yet permitted to an Israelite (Sanhedrin 59a).

We have merited the ruling that Triple Purim is literally one day; the goring ox remains a tam; and even the words of the tam (simpleton) are not completed—from world to world. Behold, my words are like fire and like a hammer shattering rock; and my light shall ever shine forth. May this Purim be like the prophecy of a seer: “A voice of joy” shall be heard in this house, and a sound of tumult—from the Torah, whence? And it shall be like the voice of Shaddai, filled with the words of the living God. A day robust and fat—let us say, Amen. A day on which our sins will end and our travails cease; a day when health will dwell in all the work of our hands. And regarding the people of the Sharon region, he would say: “May their oxen become steaks upon their tables.” And may all their days be like one day, and may all come to serve Him, and the nations say, “There is none besides Him.” Hoshana—grass from their rock—and their memory shall not cease from their seed.