Eiruvin 32a, b

The rabbis continue their conversation about the agency of a person given to fulfill a specific task.  Other situations provide examples of reliance on agents to complete their religious duties.  These include the agency of priests after women bring offerings following childbirth and zavot bring offerings following 3 days of menstrual flow outside of the regular cycle.  In the same set of examples, the rabbis discuss the agency of homeowners who offer figs to their guests: can they trust people to properly separate figs that has been already tithed (where 1/10 has been put aside for the Levites), food that is tevel (doubtfully tithed) and food that is demai (tithed)?

An interesting note appears regarding amei ha'aretz and chaverim.  All Torah scholars are said to be chaverim: people who are meticulous about fulfilling every small detail regarding mitzvot.  Amei ha'aretz, on the other hand, are the rest of us.  We do our best, but we will mess up once in a while.  For amei ha'aretz, intention is key.  For chaverim, intention is assumed.  Thus we have high expectations that chaverim will fulfill mitzvot.  We count on them to "do the right thing".

Following that note is a description of a chaver who allows an am ha'aretz to transgress in order to keep the mitzvot himself.  A discussion about minor and major transgressions ensues.  However, it would seem to me that the greater transgression would be to allow an am ha'aretz to continue to transgress without sharing any information.

Don't get me wrong; I have no interest in people who are 'holier than thou', literally, to tap me on the shoulder and correct my incorrect attempts at doing mitzvot.  However, in the context of the Talmud, mitzvot are paramount to brownie points.  When a chaver is encouraged to think of his own actions as somehow more important than the actions of another, we are building an ugly society.  According to the study of mussar, I cannot imagine that this practice would fly. 

The daf ends with a debate about placing an eruv in a tree.  If the eruv is above 10 handbredths, it is prohibited.  Interestingly, the eruv is permissable in a pit even 100 cubits deep.  The rabbis speak of the town in question as "filled in".  An interesting concept -- as if sand has been poured onto a town, demonstrating the highest and lowest points in the town. An eruv is like an invisible line that stretches across the town's limits, setting a boundary at the height of the buildings.  However, wherever there is a private residence, the eruv stretches up to the sky.

Again, the rabbis share thoughts about boundaries that amaze me.  They seem to crave these barriers; invisible lines separating one entity from another.  Finding distinctions where there are none.  Creating distance between objects (and often people) that separates us but also helps us to meet with each others at the borders.