Berakhot 146

1:
This mishnah, of course, is also concerned with some of the differences between Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai, and it, too, may be divided into two sections, Reisha [first section] and Seifa [last section]. We turn our attention first to the Reisha.

2:
Especially on Shabbat and Yom Tov, but also at any other time, it is customary to recite Birkat ha-Mazon over a glass of wine. The Reisha of our mishnah describes a maĥloket [difference of opinion] between Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai as to when the berakhah over this cup of wine should be recited. According to Bet Shammai the order should be firstly the berakhah over wine and secondly Birkat ha-Mazon. According to Bet Hillel, the order should be reversed. Most surprisingly, the Gemara has nothing whatsoever to add by way of explanation. The Tur [of Rabbi Asher ben-Yeĥi'el] stipulates that "if one only have one cup of wine it should be left to serve as the cup over which Grace will be recited after the meal" [Oraĥ Ĥayyim 174:1], and the wine should not serve to accompany the meal. (See Berakhot 125.) In his enormous commentary on the Tur (which was eventually condensed into the Shulĥan Arukh), Rabbi Yosef Karo says that the above statement of the Tur "is the mishnah at the end of Chapter Eight". He also refers us back to Rashi on a mishnah that I have already referred to (Berakhot 125.) Rashi there explains that it was the custom of politeness in rabbinic times to offer a cup of wine before the meal, then to serve the aperitif. Only then was the table brought in (a low table to stand between the couches upon which the diners lay) and the main courses served. After they had finished dining they would continue drinking wine and eating snacks – and (says Karo) this is the wine called "wine after the meal". If there was not sufficient wine left for "wine after the meal" and for Birkat ha-Mazon, the wine should be reserved for Birkat ha-Mazon. Custom follows Bet Hillel, of course, and the berakhah over the wine for Birkat ha-Mazon is recited after Grace.

2:
The Seifa of our mishnah is concerned with answering 'Amen' after a berakhah that someone else has recited. If that person is a Jew we can respond 'Amen' even if we have not heard the whole of the berakhah, since we can safely assume that a Jew would use the accepted text for that particular berakhah and would not include any statements with which another Jew could not or should not agree. (We must bear in mind that the meaning of 'Amen' is similar to a statement such as "I wish to associate myself with what you just said".) Such an assumption could not be made concerning a Samaritan. However, if one heard the whole text of the berakhah and knew that it was innocuous one may respond 'Amen' to the berakhah of a Samaritan.

Rémy Landau writes:

Thank you for shedding some light on the topic [of candles]. I had always been under the impression that the Shabbat candles were something whose light could not be used. Obviously, I was not alone. This impression must have been due to some confusion with the rules concerning the Chanukah lights, and possibly also because my parents emphasized that once lit the Shabbat candles, or any other ritual candle, could not be moved. Now what about the Yahrzeit lights? Can their light be used in any way? And can these be extinguished after the second sunset?

I respond:

Although the light from the candles may be used on Shabbat, the candlesticks are held to be muktzeh. Muktzeh is a term we use to describe something that may not be touched or moved on Shabbat. So Rémy's parents were right: although the light from the candles may be used, the candlesticks may not be removed from their place during Shabbat. (that is why some people have the custom of not setting the Shabbat candles in the dining table, but on some side table, so that the dining table will be free during Shabbat.)

There is no Kedushah ritual sanctity, attaching to Yahrzeit candles. Their sanctity is in the memory of the soul that they represent to us. For this reason – which is more aesthetic than halakhic – they should be permitted to extinguish themselves. Obviously, when such candles are not used for memorial purposes they may be extinguished after the onset of dark after Yom Tov. (Many people leave such a candle burning on Yom Tov in order to use its light during the day to transfer the flame to another wick.)

In Berakhot 145 I wrote: Bet Hillel said to Bet Shammai, "According to you, someone who ate at the top of a very high tower and forgot and climbed down without reciting Grace, would have to climb to the top of the tower again in order to recite Grace?!" Bet Shammai responded to bet Hillel, "According to you, someone who forgot their purse [and all its money] at the top of the tower, would not climb up again to retrieve it?! If for one's own honour one would do so, is it not all the more required to do so for the sake of the honour of heaven?"

Ed Frankel sends us the following thoughts, which need no comment from me:

On a surface level, this brief argument may seem a homiletic exercise. I found it particularly intriguing. The schools are arguing beyond the case in point; they are arguing what are their central values, i.e. the chasm between their personal values and the degree of Yirat Shamayim (reverence for Heaven). Bet Hillel accuses Bet Shammai of asking for an activity above normal human endurance. There seems a supposition in the questioner's words that none would go to such lengths to pray. The view seems based on a notion that while Jews by and large believe in a Power beyond themselves, humans remain the centers of their own existence. In clashes between convenience and expected religious devotion, practical (read convenient) solutions win. The countering view does not deny this. It seems to accept Bet Hillel at their word, but that there are occasions when Bet Hillel would expect normal human responses that are extraordinary, as in the case of a financial loss. This response posits that the Almighty is at the center of all value systems, and that relations with the Deity are paramount. If people will go to extraordinary means for their financial wellbeing, which would shock no one, would they not reach further for God. Is this altruism? Not necessarily. To the Sage who believes in the power of God, there may be greater risk in offending God than in acting conveniently. A case in point is found in the Tractate A particular sage risked a capital offense to a noble to fulfill his view of God's mitzvot (which coincided there with Bet Shammai). The sage needed to recite Shema. The sage offends the noble. Lucky for him, the noble directly asked how the sage could have done such a thing. He responded that the noble was mortal, and his punishment would not endure. The Almighty, however, would live forever and so would the Divine reaction. Given this, how could the sage risk offending God? (Sorry, I can't be more detailed or cite the page, I have no copy of Berakhot available for the time being.) [Perhaps Ed has in mind Berakhot 10b-11a] Makes sense, no? I am not sure. The sage's colleagues considered him a fool. So in our case, which is more logical or sensible? I'm not sure. There is logic in fulfilling the Lord's decree, but there is also logic in recognizing our humanity. What the argument reflects is that while rules might be set, value systems are open to interpretation and are fluid.