Skip to main content

Thought for the Day: Change Made With Rare Bill -- Now What?

This is the rule: Anything and everything in the Torah -- both written and oral -- is relevant and necessary for me to live my everyday -- so to speak -- mundane life. I know that is the rule and I believe it. None the less, it is often feels like "decree of the King"; I am forbidden wear mixtures of wool and linen, forbidden to eat bacon, the ashes of the red heifer make one clean and the other impure, and every word and story in the Torah -- written and oral -- is relevant to my daily life.

Take, for example, the medrash that the residents of the soon to be Eretz Yisrael spent the 40 years that Jews were "wandering" in the wilderness hiding their valuables in the walls of their houses. Later the Jews moved in and started normal life, including regular commerce and moving around. Houses would be sold and bought. It could be several dozens or even hundreds of years before the valuables were discovered in the walls. The question naturally arises, to whom does that property belong? The original owners were long gone, of course; and, anyway, there property was lost to the conquering nation (us). But did it belong to the current owners or to the previous owners? As well all know a person's courtyard (generally) works to acquire stuff for him, certainly his house.

The mishna says that the property belongs to the owner at the time it was found. Tosafos explains that something that is hidden in a way that it may never be found is not acquired till actually found. Fine, fine, the medrash turns out to be important to a mishna, which in turn requires an explanation by Tosafos. So that medrash has affected me now as part of my regular gemara learning, but that's still not my daily life.

The Ha'ga'os Ashri (I heard in a shiur by R' Shraga Kallus) uses this Tosafos in a case where a junk dealer found and then sold a lead box. The buyer (for whatever reason) scraped the side of the box and found it was actually a silver box covered in lead. Based on this Tosafos, which is explaining a mishna, which is describing the halachic consequences of the medrash, the Ha'ga'os Ashri paskens that the buyer -- not the junk dealer -- keeps the box, because the silver was not likely to be discovered. Fine, fine... so this medrash is relevant to an obscure halacha. Still not my daily life.

Later poskim discuss whether getting a rare bill in change is the same thing as the box. On the one hand, the money changer apparently doesn't know and is unlikely to discover the true value of this dollar bill; so maybe it's like the silver box covered in lead. On the other hand, it is not hidden from view; he just doesn't know its value. The generally accepted halacha (as I confirmed with R' Fuerst) is that the bill, or at least its value, belongs to the money changer, not the receiver.

Fine, fine, still a pretty obscure halacha; I mean, how often does that happen... um... wait... oops... just a few weeks ago I took a 20$ bill to the vasikin money changer, who gave me a 10$, a 5$, and five 1$ bills -- one of which looked a bit odd. Woo hoo! It was a 1957 silver certificate! The year I was born. I was so excited!  It it more rare than a regular one dollar bill, and one in circulation is worth between two and four dollars. I though nothing more about it (except excitement at having bill that came into the world the same year that I did), until I heard that shiur by R' Shraga Kallus discussing that mishna, the Tosafos, the ha'Ga'os Ashri, and the rare bill case. That night is when I clarified with R' Fuerst that I did, in fact, owe the extra value back to the vasikin tzedaka box.

So that medrash just obligated my in returning three dollars. That's pretty darn daily, mundane life!

One question: what was the status of that three dollars in my pocket? Was it lost or stolen money that I was returning? What difference does that make? Watch for an upcoming TftD real soon, בעזרת השם.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thought for the Day: Pizza, Uncrustables, and Stuff -- What Bracha?

Many years ago (in fact, more than two decades ago), I called R' Fuerst from my desk at work as I sat down to lunch.  I had a piece of (quite delicious) homemade pizza for lunch.  I nearly always eat at my desk as I am working (or writing TftD...), so my lunch at work cannot in any way be considered as sitting down to a formal meal; aka קביעת סעודה.  That being the case, I wasn't sure whether to wash, say ha'motzi, and bentch; or was the pizza downgraded to a m'zonos.  He told if it was a snack, then it's m'zonos; if a meal the ha'motzi.  Which what I have always done since then.  I recently found out how/why that works. The Shulchan Aruch, 168:17 discusses פשטיד''א, which is describes as a baked dough with meat or fish or cheese.  In other words: pizza.  Note: while the dough doesn't not need to be baked together with the meat/fish/cheese, it is  required that they dough was baked with the intention of making this concoction. ...

Thought for the Day: Yetzer HaRa -- Spiritual Force of Tuma vs Physical Ta'avos

In any project planning, there are two basic approaches: top down and bottom up.  Top down starts with describing what you want done at the highest level that seems reasonable.  You then break that down into a list of things that are smaller in scope (they only accomplish part of the job) and are therefore easier to actually accomplish.  That process can is then repeated with each sub-project.  Each iteration produces a new set of smaller projects.  For any of the projects, the level above provides the "why" for the project of interest, and the projects below provide the "how" for the current project.  Bottom up starts, as it's name suggests, from the lowest level -- here is stuff I know I can do, and proceeds by asking "what can I do by putting this stuff together?" For example, I have a project to slake my thirst.  Top down would start by a requirement to get a cool drink into a container from which I can drink.  That breaks down into: (1) fin...

Thought for the Day: Why Halacha Has "b'di'avad"

There was this Jew who knew every "b'di'avad" (aka, "Biddy Eved", the old spinster librarian) in the book.  When ever he was called on something, his reply was invariably, "biddy eved, it's fine".  When he finally left this world and was welcomed to Olam Haba, he was shown to a little, damp closet with a bare 40W bulb hanging from the ceiling.  He couldn't believe his eyes and said in astonishment, "This is Olam Haba!?!"  "Yes, Reb Biddy Eved,  for you this is Olam Haba." b'di'avad gets used like that; f you don't feel like doing something the best way, do it the next (or less) best way.  But Chazal tell us that "kol ha'omer HaShem vatran, m'vater al chayav" -- anyone who thinks HaShem gives partial credit is fooling himself to death (free translation.  Ok, really, really free translation; but its still true).  HaShem created us and this entire reality for one and only one purpose: for use...