In the past few days, we’ve learned that the altar has the power to convey sanctity to that with which it comes into contact. This means that once an animal is placed on the altar, it is sacrificed, even if it is blemished. Of course, there are nuances and exceptions to this rule, and the rabbis disagree about how exactly it should be implemented, but these are all conversations for another day.
Given the amount of talmudic ink used to impress upon us the importance of ensuring that sacrifices are free of disqualifying attributes, this may be shocking. At the same time, it impresses upon us the power of sacred spaces, which can render something fit for offering to God even though it would otherwise be disqualified.
Given all this, the Gemara on today’s daf is curious:
Is the airspace above the altar considered as the altar itself or not?
In other words, does an object have to touch the altar to become sacred, or is it enough for it to enter the airspace above it? To get to the answer to this question, we have to take a bit talmudic journey:
Come and hear: Just as the altar sanctifies, so too the ramp sanctifies. And if you say the airspace above the altar is not considered as the altar, then the airspace above the ramp as well should not be considered as the ramp.
The mishnah on yesterday’s daf taught that just as the altar sanctifies items that it touches, so does the ramp leading up to it. Likewise, the rules governing the airspace of the altar should also apply to the airspace above the ramp, meaning that if we assume the altar’s airspace does not convey sanctity, the same would be true of the ramp. But if this were the case, we would have a problem, namely:
How can one elevate (the disqualified limbs of an offering) from the ramp to the altar?
The ramp that led up to the altar was adjacent, but not attached, to it. Sacrifices therefore had to be lifted off the ramp to be placed on the altar. If the ramp’s airspace was not considered the same as the ramp, the moment a blemished carcass is lifted off the ramp to be transferred to the altar, it would become disconnected and lose its consecrated status and would be taken down. And if that were the case, no blemished material would ever reach the altar, making this whole conversation moot. Given that we are discussing it then, the Gemara concludes that the airspace above the ramp must convey sanctity. The same must then be true for the altar as well.
While this is solid talmudic logic, it is based on the assumption that the sacrificial meat must lose contact with the ramp while being transferred to the altar. Turns out, that’s not quite right. The gap between the ramp and the altar isn’t that big, so only a portion of the animal loses contact at a time. The Gemara thus concludes:
When a majority (of the limb) is on the ramp, (the minority above the gap is) as if it is on the ramp. Once a majority is on the altar, it is as if it is on the altar.
The answer to the Talmud’s question appears to be dependent upon the reality of what occurred in the temple. If sacrificial meats were lifted up as they were moved to the altar, logic dictates that the airspace above it must have the same properties as the altar itself. If they were dragged to the altar, the question is academic, as they remained in contact with the ramp/altar at all times. Determining what actually occurred is virtually impossible for us to know. Nevertheless, this particular talmudic dispute presents two theories about how holiness is transferred.
One approach posits that sacredness is acquired by entering into a sacred space, while the other suggests it occurs through physical contact with something sacred. Both approaches are present in Jewish religious practice today. We sanctify a cup of wine on Shabbat by holding it in our hand as we say a blessing acknowledging the sanctity of the day. We reach out to kiss a Torah when it passes by or when we are called to have an aliyah. But we can also access holiness merely by being in the presence of the sacred, as when we enter a sukkah on Sukkot or the sacred space of a place of worship. It may be that we have to choose one or the other when determining when and how a blemished animal is sacrificed, but contemporary Jewish ritual life includes space for both.
Read all of Zevachim 87 on Sefaria.
This piece originally appeared in a My Jewish Learning Daf Yomi email newsletter sent on December 10, 2025. If you are interested in receiving the newsletter, sign up here.
