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Sukkos & the Talmud’s Story of Bilga: How to See People Differently
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The Talmud in Tractate Sukkah tells a surprising story about Miriam bas Bilga, a 12-year-old girl whose actions seemed to disgrace her family for generations. But why does the Talmud end Sukkos with such a harsh account? And what if the story isn’t what it first appears to be?
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If we can really internalize the message
of Suka, we are going to see people
differently. And I'd like to start off
sharing with you the last Mishna in the
trackctate in Gumar and the Talmud in
the track date of Suka. So the entire
trackctate of Suka is about the holiday
of Sukus. How to build the suka, the
dimensions of the suka, the lulra, the
water libration celebration which took
place on sukus. But the last Mishna
talks about
the order of the shifts of kohanim. In
the times of the bas mikdash there were
kohanim serving and they would take
turns. They would have shifts
and their shift lasted one week and
every single week they would tag team
and one shift would enter the courtyard
where the mizbeck where the altar was to
begin service the next shift would
leave. The Mishna tells us that they
would enter on the north side of the
misbayak of the altar. So if you're
facing the altar as you enter the
courtyard, that would be the the right
side. They would enter on the north.
They would grab themselves.
They would grab themselves some of the
showbread there.
um
the shift that was leaving would leave
on the south side
of the misbeh of the altar which means
over a week's time they're circling the
altar
effectively um from right to left
there's a tradition by the way just put
this in parenthesis but the tradition is
that when we turn around in shul Friday
night to face the back of the shul for
at the last stanza of as we face the
Shabas Queen, there's a tradition to
turn from right to left and do a full
circle,
not just turn and then turn back. Uh
kind of mimicking the kohanim that would
go around the misbehanim
that did not have the luxury of being
allowed to enter through the north and
then leave through the south. They would
have to enter through the south and exit
through the south side of the altar. And
that was considered to be a punishment.
They had to fight against the current of
people leaving. This family was
punished. This family was ostracized
for the rest of their history.
It was known as the Bilga family.
Believe it or not, their last name was
Bila. The patriarch of the family was
Bila.
And the Mishna says that they were
punished in three ways, this family.
Number one, they had to enter the south
while everybody was exiting through the
south. Number two, there were certain
rings that were on the floor of the
altar that would hold down the animals
to make it easier to slaughter and she
their rings were sealed and they did not
have access to their rings, which means
they had to figure out how to hold a cow
down or borrow rings from somebody else.
Number three, they didn't have access to
their lockers. There was a locker room
and they lost access to their lockers.
They had to carry their deodorant and
stuff on their own. No, I'm kidding.
They had such but they had to carry
their own stuff and and and they lost
that amenity.
So the Talmud says, "Well, why did they
get punished? Like what did they do
wrong? What did the Bila family do
wrong?"
And the answer is nothing. But their
daughter did something wrong. They had a
12-year-old daughter. She was
rambunctious.
Her name was Miriam.
The Talmud says that Miriam, the
daughter of Bilgum,
became a heretic.
She became a what's called a co-fair.
She denied her faith. She had left the f
and she went to marry a Greek soldier.
And again, this is historically speaking
around the time of Kaneka where the
Greeks were in power and um oppressing
us. So she literally married into not
not only did she marry out of the fold
but she married into the enemy
which was
real commentary on on her level of
heresy because the Greeks were not
enemies to Jewish existence.
They were en or at least not enemies to
to the physical existence of Jews.
because they were enemies to the
spiritual existence of Jews. They didn't
try killing out the Jews. They tried
getting the Jews to assimilate.
And you you know you you can believe in
Judaism and study the Torah, but do it
as a culture.
You don't have to make it so godly.
You don't have to be so meticulous with
commandments as if it's something
sacred, as if it's like unchangeable. If
it makes sense and it's meaningful to
you, go for it. And if it isn't,
consider changing it. That was the Greek
philosophy. That's what they were trying
to fight for in Khan. And we said, "No,
we're going to be so fanatic
and stubborn in our relationship with
God
that we're even going to not use
available oil because we deem it as
impure."
Right? That's that was the whole
miracle.
Technically speaking, you could use any
oil in the in the B mikdash if pure oil
is unavailable.
You technically could, but we were going
to be fanatic because we're going to
prove a point that we actually believe
in this stuff. Miriam, the daughter of
Bila, who was a family of Kohanim,
did not believe in this stuff. And she
not only married out of the fold, but
she married the enemy who was an enemy
to the spiritual existence of Jewish
people.
It gets worse. Don't worry.
The the Gomorrah says that the Talmud
says that when the Greeks came to the
basiktas to ransack it and start trying
to put pigs on the altar and and start
doing what they did to defile all the
oil, she came with them.
The Gomorrah then says she took her
sandal off.
She hits it on the altar
and she says, I'm going to say it in the
original text and I'll translate it. She
takes her sandal off. She hits it on the
altar. She says, "Lucas. Lucas." Lucas
is a Greek word for wolf.
Wolf. Wolf. She's calling the altar a
wolf.
until when will you consume the money of
the people of Israel
yet you don't stand for them at times of
difficulty
that's at this point the sages saw like
okay something's wrong with this family
and punished the family but she accused
the altar
of being a scam at least seemingly
the altar the msbayak is supposed to be
a source of blessing. That's where we
bring corbanis. That's where we bring
sacrifices. A corban means sacrifice.
But the word corban comes from the word
kairo to come close to God. This is the
source of blessing where we come close
to God. And that should be a source of
protection. And she's accusing it of it
being a scam.
People are just spending money burning
offerings and we're not getting
anywhere. You're you're scamming people.
Because of this, her entire family was
punished and um lost certain privileges,
the ones we had discussed earlier in the
bas.
Now the Talmud asks
that that doesn't seem fair. What did
the family do wrong?
Come on.
And the answer is there's two parts to
this answer. Number one,
um, the apple doesn't fall far from the
tree.
Now, that doesn't mean her family had
that attitude to that degree.
Maybe she exacerbated it, but where did
it come from? Like, what were their
conversations at their shabas table?
What were their conversations like on
Yamu? Were they skeptical? Were they
cynical? Were they sharing that
skepticism? The Talmud seems to be
putting a little bit of blame on the
family.
The Talmud then says, "Okay, blame the
family. Agree or disagree, but fine."
But there was an entire Bilga shift and
people that were associated with them
that were also punished
that uh didn't that weren't involved in
raising her.
The Gomorrah answers, the Talmud
answers, and I'll say it in Hebrew and
I'll translate it.
Woe is to the wicked. Wo is to his
neighbor.
And good is for the righteous and
goodest to his neighbor. Be careful who
you hang around because the presumption
is that those who were hanging around
Miriam, the daughter of Bila, Miriam
Basila, also would have been influenced.
And that's why the entire Bila clan,
even those who were not directly related
or at least in the same household, were
punished.
Now, several questions come to mind
here.
Question number one,
um there there's obviously stuff we can
learn from from this story, which is why
the Talmud's telling it to us. So, we
can learn about education, we can learn
about child rearing, we can there's a
lot we can learn here. We can learn
about faith. But why do we have to shame
Miriam, the daughter of Bila, to drive
this story?
Imagine that Tom would told us this
story but didn't mention Miriam, the
daughter of Bila's name. I I don't think
anybody of any of us would have asked
what oh what was her name? I think we
would have been okay with just knowing
that this is a story to learn from
without having to shame the family and
the girl. By the way, you know how old
was Miriam, the daughter of Dao was at
this point? This is important to know.
She was 12.
She was I mean, you hear this all the
time, 12-year-olds taking over the
household, taking over the family, but
this is to like a whole another degree.
We could have learned the lessons we
need seemingly without knowing her name.
The Torah is very strict when it comes
to lash and har when it comes to
speaking negatively about people
or or really negatively about things
about places about not just people.
Think about the spies
who were punished. the 10 spies, 10 evil
spies that Moshe had sent who were
punished because they spoke negatively
about the land of Israel,
about a geographical location.
Why are we calling out somebody by name,
a human being, a 12-year-old?
Think about
think about um Adam and Eve eating from
the tree of knowledge,
and they messed up catastrophically.
They changed history forever. They got
kicked out of the Garden of Eden. They
changed existence as we know it and
introduced an internalization of hyper
sensitivity toward negativity.
But do we know what fruit they ate from?
The Torah doesn't say.
And the in the Talmud itself, there's
like seven different opinions and
speculations as to what that fruit could
be.
We know it wasn't an apple and the
movies got it wrong, but other than
that, it's not really clear what it was.
Some say it was a fig. Some say it was
grapes. Some say it was wheat.
Rashi tells us over there that why
doesn't it say what type of fruit it
was? Because what did the fruit do
wrong? What did the tree do wrong? Why
embarrass fruit? Why embarrass a tree?
Wait a minute.
We're not okay with embarrassing land.
We're not okay with embarrassing fruit
or trees, but we're okay of shaming this
12-year-old girl
and her family. I'm not saying we
shouldn't learn the story. There's a lot
to learn from here, but why mention her
name?
That's question number one.
Question number two and this is more of
a fundamental uh issue here.
Where we learn this Mishna from this
section of Talmud from is from the track
date of Suka.
This does not seem to be consistent with
the message of Suka
on any level
because what does a suka represent? Why
do we sit in the suka?
Because it represents God's embrace. God
embraced us in the desert with the
clouds of glory with the divine
presence. It represents closeness to
God.
It represents
deep connection to God.
Um,
commentaries wonder, you know, if it
represents like the clouds of glory in
the desert, it's part of like the Exodus
of Egypt, shouldn't Sukus and Pesak
coincide?
Why is Sukus in the fall? There's a lot
of answers that commentaries get into,
but one of the answers is Sukus comes
right after Yum Kipper. After we're
forgiven,
we're now embraced. Embraced by God.
When we sit in the suka, God is
embracing us because the suka represents
closeness. The suka represents
connection.
The very opening Mishna
inracted suka is about how tall a suka
is allowed to be or not allowed to be.
The maximum height for a suka is the
same as a khanora and same as an auv
20 amo 20 cubits
20 increments of about 18 in each but
from the elbow to the the tip of the
finger
20 of those 20 amus
and the gmorra says why does it have to
be that tall but no taller why can't it
be taller
and the reason is Because
the Torah tells us that we have to know
that we're in a suka.
We have to know that we're in a suka. We
have to sense the suka. We have to feel
the embrace of God.
And if it's higher than 20 cubits,
you're not going to notice it. It's just
too tall. It's above. It's not just
above eye level. It's above like if
you're looking straight.
I was teaching this idea once at the
labs and they were doing all these
mathematical equations on me.
So some people can verify this
mathematically, but if you're looking
straight, how high are you going to see
like from the peripheral vision? About
20 amas. Higher than 20, you're not
going to notice that there's a roof over
you. And the main part of the suka is
the that's part of the embrace of God.
We have to feel that embrace.
So suka is about the embrace of God is
about connection.
The story of Miriam the daughter of Bila
seems to be about disconnection.
And not only is it mentioned in the
track date of track date suka, it's like
the grand finale, the final Mishna of
trackctate suka. It doesn't seem to fit
here.
These are our questions today.
And what I'd like to share with you
is
a paradigm shift
in how we see people.
Because here's the rule. This is true
psychologically. Like there's research
that backs this up. This is true
spiritually, which means there are
ancient texts that back this up.
Psychologically, there is no such thing
as a perfect problem. It does not exist.
Doesn't exist. It can't. Perfect
problems can't exist.
Maybe it's almost perfect.
Like maybe know somebody who's who's
anxious. You're not perfectly anxious
100% of the time. You're either less
anxious some of the time or you're not
fully anxious all the time. But if you
were fully anxious all the time, you'd
be dead.
God forbid. Same with marriage. There's
no such thing as a perfectly bad
marriage. Otherwise, they wouldn't be
married. They would have murdered each
other or divorced.
Um I I'm not saying it's not difficult.
I'm not saying it's not challenging. I'm
just saying that there is a part it
can't exist. Something can't exist in
perfect negativity.
The wayic
texts describe this is that kipa can't
exist independently.
Kipa the negative force that hides God
and that makes us experience life on a
very
um surface external level.
an animal soul level can't exist without
holiness, without kaduca, without
without God. I mean, nothing can exist
without God. And the same is with kipa,
which means the kipa isn't perfect. It
can't perfectly hide God. It can't be
perfectly void and absent of God. There
has to be something good in there.
And it's the same with the story of
Bila, of Miriam, the daughter of Bila.
There has to be something redeemable
here.
Number one, because it exists. It
happened. Number two, why are the sages
telling us about this? Why are they
speaking lash? Well, sages don't speak.
They must be trying to tell us something
good.
Maybe we missed it. Maybe we didn't
fully see it. Maybe we need to read the
Mishna again from a fresh pair of
lenses, from a fresh pair of eyes, and
look at the proper way to see Dogga.
Sorry, Miriam, the daughter of Dogga.
Here's how we see Miriam, the daughter
of Bila. Miriam, the daughter of Bila,
again leaves her faith. Not only Mary's
out of the fold intentionally,
but Mary's a Greek soldier who is of the
enemy people and they are theological
enemies, which means she seems to really
monopoly.
And she not only embraces
the Greek culture and Greek family life
which was diametrically antithetical to
Judaism and her faith, but she comes
back with them to help ransack the Ba
Mikdash when they were coming to defile
all the oil and put their pig on the
altar and everything. She's with them
and she's not only rebelling like in
past tense, she's rebelling in present
tense. She's literally like there with
them. Like why was she there? Why was
she near them as what what compelled her
to come?
She was part of the story of Hanukkah as
we know it.
And what does she do? She takes her
sandal off and she smacks the MBA and
she says, "Lucas, Lucas, wolf, wolf, how
long are you going to consume the wealth
of Israel and not stand by them in their
time of distress?" That's what she had
said.
In other words, she's complaining to
God.
God, I've left my faith.
I've married out.
I've joined a people who are trying to
get rid of you and I've embraced that
and I came back in full vengeance. And
there's a part of me that's still
wondering, "How dare you not take care
of my people?
Why aren't you taking care of my people?
She's expressing love for her people.
She's expressing a part of herself that
she cannot run away from. No matter how
hard she tries, that nishama, that soul,
she can't.
Her hitting the sandal on the altar and
complaining was an act of care, an act
of belief, an act of faith,
very meaningful from somebody whom we
would have presumed to have none of
that.
There's an there's a letter penned by
Sigman Freud, father of psychology.
Sigman Freud was
um apparently did not consider himself
by any means to be a believer in
Judaism.
He considered himself to be uh
and and he writes in this letter that
I've tried so hard throughout my
lifetime to isolate myself from my
Judaism and my Jewish culture and my
Jewish faith. I'm par paraphrasing, not
quoting.
He says, "I'm trying so hard to run away
from it. It's not working. I feel so
Jewish.
I don't know why.
And it's beyond what I can explain in
the paradigm of psychology."
He had no explanation for it.
There is only one explanation for it.
That's the nishama.
About a year ago,
I was teaching at the at the labs in
Liverour, Livermore National uh Lawrence
Livermore National Laboratories was
giving a class there
and there was a fellow there in pushing
um semi-retired
and he's scientists.
He considers himself to be an atheist.
He had left uh his Jewish or claims to
have left or tried to leave his Jewish
faith and culture many many decades ago
and has not engaged in a long time. Do
you come to these classes?
And he says to me once after class, I
have a question for you.
Yeah. How's Judaism doing in America?
He's checking it. He hasn't had a lot of
Jewish exposure, especially living in
Liverour, California. not really
engaging.
I said, "Well, what do you mean?" He
says, "Well, are there more people
joining the fold than there are
leaving?"
He says, "I've left the fold." Or he
considers himself to have left the fold,
although he's showing up to a class,
right?
Nobody's forcing him to be there. And um
the food's not that good. No, I'm
kidding. Um he says, "I've left the
fold. my siblings have left the fold
and I don't really know anybody other
than you that's engaging.
Is is this sustainable? Is Judaism going
to continue?
So I said to him, I I don't have any
data for you, like statistical data,
but
we do live in a time where Judaism is
more accessible than it ever has been in
the history of of the world. Maybe since
the giving of the Torah,
there were more yeshivas and diverse
yeshivas than there ever has been.
There's more uh female seminaries and
diverse female seminaries for different
types of people, different personalities
and different cultures and backgrounds
than there ever has been. There are more
English translations of ancient texts
and and diverse translations, not just
English, than there ever has been.
There's more learning opportunities
online and in person in Kabad houses and
other outreach centers throughout the
world than there ever has been. It's
more accessible than ever has been that
Scott suggests some level of interest.
I thought that would have been a
satisfactory answer, but he looks at me
and goes, "Why?"
Said, "What do you mean why?" Said, "Why
would anybody want this?" Again, he
wants this. He's showing up,
right? The proof's in the pudding. Why
would anybody want this?
So, I said to him, I think that's a
great question.
If you're a student in Columbia
University,
again, this was a year ago, which was a
year after October 7th,
and I I'm sure not much has changed on
Columbia University.
If you're a student on Columbia
University, it might be easier not to be
openly Jewish and not to embrace your
Judaism so you can just go to class and
get your grades and not be stopped by by
by other students and have to lock
yourself in a classroom out of fear.
it might be easier.
So why are they embracing Judaism? Why
are they risking themselves, their
grades, their lives, everything so they
can go to a pes or so they can go to a
Friday night service or so they can go
put on or whatever it is? Why are they
risking themselves wearing a yam in
public?
Why?
Same question, right? It's easier not
to.
And I said to him, I I think what you're
describing is how I like to describe the
soul.
I think we both believe in the same
thing just in different language.
And this is the story of Miriam, the
daughter of Bila.
She not only ran away and divorced
herself of her faith,
she embraced a faith that was
diametrically antithetical to everything
she was raised with,
antithetical to her soul. And she came
back with a vengeance to fight for her
new beliefs, to fight against her old
beliefs.
And she couldn't hold back. And she
looks at the bispayak and hits it and is
angry at it.
Like God, why aren't you protecting the
Jewish people? Like come on.
And it makes me wonder
this. This is the tough question to ask
ourselves like to ask ourselves this
honestly and I think it's a good
question to ask for Kipper.
When we see somebody doing something
that they shouldn't be,
that's disappointing
and we feel let down by somebody
to ask ourselves the question, are we
looking at the whole version of them?
We're looking at them honestly.
We're seeing what upsets us and that
might be very real. I'm not discounting
that.
But is that everything?
What are we proud of? Because the
problem can't exist in perfection.
And if we can't find what we are proud
of, we have to look harder.
In this teaching, the lab succeeded
doing it with Miriam, the daughter of
Bila.
Perky says he
should judge every single person
favorably. These points out that if you
translate it literally, it doesn't say
every single person. It says, it says
the whole person. Look at the full
person,
not just the version of them that we
choose to get fired up about. Look at
the full person.
It's very difficult. But one of the ways
we're inspired to do this is actually by
living by by sitting in the suka.
Because one of the things the suka
teaches us is that despite our
differences, despite the diversity,
there are parts of us that are so
similar.
Every single one of us can be sitting in
the same suka and we might think
differently. We might be raised
differently. We might have different
passions. We might do things
differently. We might tell ourselves we
have different beliefs. But why are we
all in that suka?
There's one thing embracing us all
equally.
We could be in the suko with Moha
Rabenu. Miriam, the daughter of Vilga
could be with in the circle with
moisture raum
and they're going to have the same thing
in common that soul.
And that soul's going to challenge us to
look past
all of the things that might be
frustrating us and all the garbage and
say, "Well, what do we see? What is here
that can be redeemed and that we would
be proud to see more of?"
This is I think an important meditation
to go into sukus with and to go into yum
kipper with. But, uh, that's my story
and I'm sticking to it.