On today’s daf, the mishnah tells us what to do if a guilt offering is mixed up with a peace offering:
Rabbi Shimon says: Both of them should be slaughtered in the north, and they must be eaten in accordance with the more stringent of them.
Rabbi Shimon states that both animals should be treated like a guilt offering, as its laws are more restrictive: It must be slaughtered in the north (whereas the peace offering can be slaughtered anywhere in the Temple) and eaten for only one day and night (whereas a peace offering can be eaten for an additional day). Ultimately, according to Rabbi Shimon, in order to ensure that both sacrifices are valid, we must meet the strictest common denominator.
The rabbis then offer a challenge to Rabbi Shimon:
They said to him: One may not bring sacrificial animals to the status of unfitness.
One is permitted to eat a peace offering for a day and a half (the day it was sacrificed, that evening and the next day), but if we treat it as a guilt offering, there is less time to eat it — and a greater likelihood the animal will become notar, sacrificial meat that is left uneaten after its prescribed time and must be burned. Following the strictest common denominator rule thus creates the opportunity for sacrificial animals to become unfit, which is prohibited.
Though the Talmud is not explicit about this, Rashi explains that the rabbis believe it is better to let both animals graze until they become blemished, then sell them for money and buy two new (and easily distinguished) animals to sacrifice in their place. On the one hand, following the strictest common denominator is inclusive, in that both animals can be sacrificed.
On the other hand, the rabbis see its trade-offs in issues of sanctity and difference as unacceptable. A sacrifice is meant to be both holy and fully consumed, and no matter how hungry you are, I imagine that it is hard — if not impossible — to eat an entire lamb in less than 24 hours. If we go by the rabbis, now two people are going to have to scarf down a whole lamb in under a day.
Based on this mishnah, the Talmud next thinks through how this debate may play out in related areas:
A tanna taught before Rav: The sabbatical year, one may not purchase terumah with its money because one reduces the (time of) eating.
The sabbatical (or Shmita) year is the practice of letting land rest once every seven years. Fields are not cultivated and you can only eat produce that naturally grows on its own while it is still in season. When it is no longer in season, it must be destroyed. By contrast, priests and their households can eat terumah (the portion of produce allocated to them) as long as they want. According to this teaching, if you sell Shmita produce, you can’t use that money to buy terumah produce. The money you receive for selling Shmita produce takes on the holiness of the sabbatical year, as does the new food you purchase, meaning it can only be eaten during the time period that the original produce is in season. You’ve just dramatically shortened the amount of time you can eat that terumah, and may end up causing it to be burned if you can’t eat it all in time.
Based on our mishnah, the rabbis would prohibit this sale and subsequent purchase, because it might bring food with a holiness status to a state of unfitness. But what would Rabbi Shimon say?
The sages said before Rabbah: This not in accordance with Rabbi Shimon because if you would say it is in accordance with Rabbi Shimon, doesn’t he say that one may bring sacrificial animals to the status of unfitness?
The rabbis assume that Rabbi Shimon would disagree with the previous teaching and allow someone to purchase terumah with money from the sabbatical year because he doesn’t seem to have a problem making sanctified foodstuffs prematurely unfit for consumption.
Rabbah said to them: You may even say it is Rabbi Shimon. That statement is after the fact. He did not permit it ab initio.
According to Rabbah, Rabbi Shimon only followed the strictest common denominator rule when the animals had already been mixed up and could not be unmixed. But even he agreed that, where possible, it is better not to intentionally shorten the time a sacred food can be eaten.
The discussion will continue for much of tomorrow’s daf, but for now, let’s stop and reflect on two principles that emerge from our discussion so far. First, following the strictest common denominator is not always the appropriate path. Even if it means you will be eating the originally intended animals, for the rabbis, sometimes the trade-offs are unacceptable.
Second, sacred foods — whether animal sacrifices or the terumah — are meant to be eaten. They are symbolic of a deeply embodied and profound relationship between God and Israel, and between God and each individual who partakes of those foods. We should not lose sight of the forest for the trees, nor get so focused on the details that we forget not just what we’re doing, but why we’re doing it.
Read all of Zevachim 75 on Sefaria.
This piece originally appeared in a My Jewish Learning Daf Yomi email newsletter sent on November 28, 2025. If you are interested in receiving the newsletter, sign up here.
