Nobody likes being cheated at the store. Imagine purchasing a bag that says it contains six muffins and bringing it home only to discover there are but five. It’s an unpleasant feeling, and a disappointment at the breakfast table. But as crimes go, is it among the worst? Today’s daf suggests that it is.
Maintaining honest scales in the marketplace is a bedrock of Jewish mercantile law. Deuteronomy 25:15 is plain on this point: You must have completely honest weights and completely honest measures if you are to endure long on the soil that the Lord your God is giving you. Similarly, a mishnah on today’s daf charges merchants with keeping their measuring devices clean — presumably so that a residue build-up doesn’t reduce the capacity — before diving into the sundry ways traders must ensure that their customers are getting everything they paid for and rightfully expect. Commercial fraud is serious business, as the Gemara emphasizes:
Rabbi Levi says: The punishment for using false measures is more severe than the punishment for transgressing the prohibition of forbidden sexual relations.
Cheating someone out of a few teaspoons of flour is more egregious than bedding their wife? This claim feels hyperbolic, yet Rabbi Levi offers midrashic proof:
As in that case (forbidden relations) the Torah uses a shortened term for the word “these”(el): “For all these (el) abominations.” (Leviticus 18:27) And in this case (false measures) the Torah uses an expanded term for the word “these” (eleh): “For all that do these (eleh) things, even all that do unrighteously, are an abomination unto the Lord your God.” (Deuteronomy 25:16) And from where may it be inferred that the form of the word el indicates severity? As it is written: “And the mighty (eilei) of the land he took away.” (Ezekiel 17:13)
There are two forms of the word “these” in Hebrew: el and eleh. Rabbi Levi notes that a similar-sounding but unrelated word, eilei (mighty), hints that the longer form eleh, which sounds the same, is more forceful than el. As a result, the verse about commercial fraud, which employs this longer version, hints that the crime is more severe than sexual misconduct.
But the reading doesn’t entirely work, as the Gemara reminds us a few lines later that Leviticus elsewhere uses the longer form eleh (the more “severe” form) in reference to sexual misconduct:
But with regard to forbidden relations isn’t it also written: “For whosoever shall do any of these (eleh) abominations” (Leviticus 18:29)? If so, why is the punishment for using false measures considered harsher? That second expression of eleh in the context of forbidden relations (Leviticus 18:29) does not serve to emphasize its severity. Rather, it serves to exclude one who uses deception in measures from the penalty of excision (karet) from the World-to-Come.
We know that, in halakhic interpretation, one word can’t serve more than one halakhic purpose — in other words, if eleh in Leviticus 18:29 is referring solely to the list of sexual acts earlier in the chapter and excludes a fraudster from being excised, it can’t also elevate the severity of sexual misdeeds. The rabbis conclude that the Leviticus 18:29 eleh has the former meaning; because it can serve one semantic purpose — but not both — it can’t also have the latter meaning as well.
This leaves us in a strange place: Commercial fraud is a more severe transgression, but the punishment is less severe. The Gemara is, understandably, confused:
But if the punishment is in fact less severe, what is the advantage (i.e., the greater severity) in the case of false measures? There, in the case of one who engages in forbidden relations, he has the possibility of repentance. But here, in the case of one who uses false measures, there is no possibility of repentance.
Working backwards from the impact, the Gemara notes that there’s no way to seek atonement in the case of commercial fraud: You don’t know who, down the line, was cheated by your actions, so you can’t make up for the damage you’ve caused. As a result, it’s an indelible stain on your character, and you’re stuck with it for the rest of your days.
To drive home his point, Rabbi Levi adds:
Robbing an ordinary person is more severe than robbing the Most High (i.e., taking consecrated property).
He then offers another midrashic reading (not quoted above) that proves this, once again, counterintuitive point: Robbing a person is more severe than robbing God. But perhaps the underlying logic is the same: We may never be able to track down the person we stole from in order to make amends, but we can always find God to do just that.
Read all of Bava Batra 88 on Sefaria.
This piece originally appeared in a My Jewish Learning Daf Yomi email newsletter sent on September 21, 2024. If you are interested in receiving the newsletter, sign up here.
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