March 21, 2008
The Talmud of Curb: Schwimmer's Watch
In the fourth season finale of HBO's Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David is about to star as Max Bialystoyk in Mel Brook's Broadway musical, The Producers, with David Schwimmer as Leo Bloom. Before the show, Schwimmer loses his watch, which Larry finds, but then loses (or so he thinks), an argument ensues as to who is responsible for the lost watch. Later, Larry discovers that the watch was acutally stolen from him by one of the hotel workers; he recovers the watch and returns it to Schwimmer, and The Producers is a big hit (much to Mel Brooks' chagrin). See the above clip.
The question is: had the watch not been found, who would have been responsible? Would Larry have to either reimburse or replace the watch? Or is Schwimmer out of luck? Usually, things don't work out to well for Mr. David. Whose side is the law on?
Fortunately for us, this is a famous debate in the Talmud. What is the halacha when someone finds a lost object, but then that object is either lost, stolen or accidentally damaged? The Talmud, in tractate Bava Metzia, 29A (and other places) brings down the famous case of pruta d'Rav Yosef, the penny of Rav Yosef.
When one finds a lost object, one becomes a guardian over that object; ostensibly, one is an unpaid guardian, which would mean that should anything happen to the object while one has guarding it, one would not be liable. Rav Yosef, however, has a famous opinion which changes the game: Rav Yosef holds that when one guarding a lost object, since they are at times taking care that the lost object is maintained (making sure it remains functional, clean, etc.), they are considered "involved in a mitzvah", and, should they happen to be approached by a poor person asking for money while caring for the lost object, they could claim that they are exempt from the mitzvah of tzedakah, as they are involved in the mitzvah of hashovas aveidah, returning a lost object. The monetary savings, albeit insignificant and probably theoretical, do have some actual value to the guardian. When applied in this case, it turns out that, according to Rav Yosef, Larry is benefiting, however minutely, from watching over David's watch. Therefore, he is considered a shomer sachar, a paid guardian, and would be obligated to reimburse David should the watch be lost or stolen (but not if it was accidentally damaged). For those that do not hold like Rav Yosef (Rabah, in this case), Larry would simply be a shomer hinam, an unpaid guardian, in which case he would not have any responsibilities vis-a-vis the watch, and would not be obligated to pay back Mr. Schwimmer.
The Rambam, in Hilchos Gezeilah V'Avedah (13:10), holds like R. Yosef (which would mean that Larry would be on the hook for the watch); other rishonim, such as the Ri and the Rosh, hold like Rabah, that Larry was a shomer hinam and free of responsibility. The Rambam's opinion, however, is favored, and the Shulchan Aruch, in Choshen Mishpat 267:16 agrees, paskening that one who is guarding a lost object is considered like shomer sachar. As usual, things aren't looking good for Larry.
But wait! The Ramah adds that, "just as in a case of collateral, we have the same ruling here." This cryptic statement can be understood with the help of the Meiras Einaim, who explains that in a case one takes collateral on a loan, but the collateral is worth more than the value of the loan, we are uncertain if the lender is responsible for the value above the total amount of the loan in the same way as he is for the principal value. For the principal value, the lender is certainly considered a shomer schar, and would be responsible for that portion of the collateral. But the value of the collateral beyond the total amount of the loan? We aren't sure, and so we are lenient and treat him as an unpaid guardian. So to, in the case of the guardian of a lost object, we say that we are unsure, and therefore Larry would be, quite uncharacteristically, off the hook.
Happy Purim!
The Talmud of Curb: Schwimmer's Watch
In the fourth season finale of HBO's Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David is about to star as Max Bialystoyk in Mel Brook's Broadway musical, The Producers, with David Schwimmer as Leo Bloom. Before the show, Schwimmer loses his watch, which Larry finds, but then loses (or so he thinks), an argument ensues as to who is responsible for the lost watch. Later, Larry discovers that the watch was acutally stolen from him by one of the hotel workers; he recovers the watch and returns it to Schwimmer, and The Producers is a big hit (much to Mel Brooks' chagrin). See the above clip.
The question is: had the watch not been found, who would have been responsible? Would Larry have to either reimburse or replace the watch? Or is Schwimmer out of luck? Usually, things don't work out to well for Mr. David. Whose side is the law on?
Fortunately for us, this is a famous debate in the Talmud. What is the halacha when someone finds a lost object, but then that object is either lost, stolen or accidentally damaged? The Talmud, in tractate Bava Metzia, 29A (and other places) brings down the famous case of pruta d'Rav Yosef, the penny of Rav Yosef.
When one finds a lost object, one becomes a guardian over that object; ostensibly, one is an unpaid guardian, which would mean that should anything happen to the object while one has guarding it, one would not be liable. Rav Yosef, however, has a famous opinion which changes the game: Rav Yosef holds that when one guarding a lost object, since they are at times taking care that the lost object is maintained (making sure it remains functional, clean, etc.), they are considered "involved in a mitzvah", and, should they happen to be approached by a poor person asking for money while caring for the lost object, they could claim that they are exempt from the mitzvah of tzedakah, as they are involved in the mitzvah of hashovas aveidah, returning a lost object. The monetary savings, albeit insignificant and probably theoretical, do have some actual value to the guardian. When applied in this case, it turns out that, according to Rav Yosef, Larry is benefiting, however minutely, from watching over David's watch. Therefore, he is considered a shomer sachar, a paid guardian, and would be obligated to reimburse David should the watch be lost or stolen (but not if it was accidentally damaged). For those that do not hold like Rav Yosef (Rabah, in this case), Larry would simply be a shomer hinam, an unpaid guardian, in which case he would not have any responsibilities vis-a-vis the watch, and would not be obligated to pay back Mr. Schwimmer.
The Rambam, in Hilchos Gezeilah V'Avedah (13:10), holds like R. Yosef (which would mean that Larry would be on the hook for the watch); other rishonim, such as the Ri and the Rosh, hold like Rabah, that Larry was a shomer hinam and free of responsibility. The Rambam's opinion, however, is favored, and the Shulchan Aruch, in Choshen Mishpat 267:16 agrees, paskening that one who is guarding a lost object is considered like shomer sachar. As usual, things aren't looking good for Larry.
But wait! The Ramah adds that, "just as in a case of collateral, we have the same ruling here." This cryptic statement can be understood with the help of the Meiras Einaim, who explains that in a case one takes collateral on a loan, but the collateral is worth more than the value of the loan, we are uncertain if the lender is responsible for the value above the total amount of the loan in the same way as he is for the principal value. For the principal value, the lender is certainly considered a shomer schar, and would be responsible for that portion of the collateral. But the value of the collateral beyond the total amount of the loan? We aren't sure, and so we are lenient and treat him as an unpaid guardian. So to, in the case of the guardian of a lost object, we say that we are unsure, and therefore Larry would be, quite uncharacteristically, off the hook.
Happy Purim!
March 19, 2007
Preemptive Justice in the Torah
In the book The Minority Report (The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick, Vol. 4)
The instinctive response is that this is unjust. How can one be convicted of a crime without having done anything? However, in fact, we do already punish some individuals for only thinking or planning on committing a crime; conspiracy to commit murder and reckless driving are some examples where we punish even though nothing happened. In these cases, the behavior exhibited shows that the offender would have committed a greater offense, and so punishment is justified even though nothing was actually done (part of this depends on how you view the function of punishment, but that's a post for another day).
Beyond this, however, a deeper question arises: wouldn't it be possible that, although this person planned on committing a crime, that they would, at the last minute, for some inexplicable reason, decide not to? How can we punish, or hold responsible, someone who might, at the last minute, change their mind?
Of course, this gets into a broader discussion of man's free will, or perhaps his perception of his free will, which is a topic for another time. The question I would like to address here is: what is the Torah's perspective?
I was a bit surprised to find that the Torah, in fact, addresses this topic directly. In Devarim 21:18-21, the Torah states:
18 If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, that will not hearken to the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother, and though they chasten him, will not hearken unto them; 19 then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; 20 and they shall say unto the elders of his city: 'This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he doth not hearken to our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard.' 21 And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die; so shalt thou put away the evil from the midst of thee; and all Israel shall hear, and fear.
The famous case of the Ben Sorer, the Rebellious Child. The Mishnah goes to great lengths to show that a case of Ben Sorer is extremely unlikely to ever occur; the parameters for qualification are so specific that the Talmud goes so far as to propose that the whole parsha is simply a thought experiment. But what is the thought?
The Mishneh in the eight chapter of Sanhedrin makes this clear:
בן סורר ומורה, יידון על שם סופו--ימות זכאי, ואל ימות חייב: שמיתתן של רשעים--הניה להם, והניה לעולם; ולצדיקים--רע להם, ורע לעולם.
The Rebellious Child is judged by his future deeds; better for him to die in merit, than to die after committing a crime. For death, for evildoers is a benefit to them, and to the world, while death for a righteous individual is bad for them, and bad for the world.
We see that the purpose of the passage of the Ben Sorer is to teach that, in certain circumstances, we are so certain of the future path of a particular individual, we take preemptive action to prevent it from occurring. If we have enough information as to his background, which will inevitable inform his future actions, the Torah tells us that we can, with certainty, take preemptive measures. In the case of the Rebellious Child, those circumstances are so many and specific to the point that they will never happen, but that's not the point; for some people, the Torah feels, their past completely determines their future actions, with no hope of their exercising free will to change it. In this case, it's better to act preemptively than to let the evil transpire.
As further proof that preemptive justice is the point of the parsha of Ben Sorer, take a look at the last two mishnayos in the eighth chapter of Sanhedrin. The penultimate mishnah uses the same language that was previously used to describe the Ben Sorer: "A tunneling burglar is judged by his future deeds." In this case, as the burglar has gone to so much trouble to break into a house, if confronted by the owner, he won't hesitate to commit murder. One is, therefore, allowed to kill a tunneling burglar without fear of reprisal [this case is interesting in that the burglar is destined to commit murder only if he is confronted; so there is a potential that he will not do anything - yet preemptive justice is still sanctioned]. And the final mishnah lists those the cases where one is allowed to kill another person to prevent them from harming another, the classic example of which is the rodef, one who is chasing another person with intent to kill. Again, the example shows the sanction, in this case, of preemptive action to prevent a crime from being committed.
As strange as it may sound, we see that preemptive justice is sanctioned in specific cases by the Torah. When an individual's past, a combination of his biology and experiences, unfold in specific ways, their future actions are certain, beyond the realm of choice. In these cases, the Torah instructs that it is better to prevent the certain future event from taking place, than to allow events to unfold on their own.
February 1, 2007
On the Nature of Holidays
ת"ר לפי שראה אדם הראשון יום שמתמעט והולך אמר אוי לי שמא בשביל שסרחתי עולם חשוך בעדי וחוזר לתוהו ובוהו וזו היא מיתה שנקנסה עלי מן השמים עמד וישב ח' ימים בתענית [ובתפלה] כיון שראה תקופת טבת וראה יום שמאריך והולך אמר מנהגו של עולם הוא הלך ועשה שמונה ימים טובים לשנה האחרת עשאן לאלו ולאלו ימים טובים הוא קבעם לשם שמים והם קבעום לשם <עבודת כוכבים> {עבודה זרה}
Our Rabbis taught: When primitive Adam saw the day getting gradually shorter, he said, 'Woe is me, perhaps because I have sinned, the world around me is being darkened and returning to its state of chaos and confusion; this then is the kind of death to which I have been sentenced from Heaven!' So he began keeping an eight days' fast [and prayer vigil - GJG]. But as he observed the winter equinox and noted the day getting increasingly longer, he said, 'This is the world's course', and he set forth to keep an eight days' festivity. In the following year he appointed both as festivals. Now, he fixed them for the sake of Heaven, but the [heathens] appointed them for the sake of idolatry.
The obvious question from this passage (Avodah Zarah 8A) is: if Adam realized that such was the nature of the world, that the shortening of the days was not due to his sin, but instead simply the natural way in which the world operates, why did he feel the need to make a holiday to God? If his motivations would have been idolatrous, it would be understandable, but it is specifically stated that Adam acted "for the sake of Heaven." Why make a holiday simply because one mistook a natural event for an act of God?
Perhaps this helps explain why these holidays, in the end, became associated with idolatry. The fact that their institution was not really in direct correlation to an act of God, but instead in celebration of the natural order of the world, caused later generations to lose sight of their original intent. To Adam, it seemed rational to celebrate those days, since he feared Divine retribution for his sins, and felt he had been given a reprieve, even if in actuality, he had not. But future generations, who did not have this fear, took the holidays as simply a celebration of the natural order, and perverted their original intent to idolatry.
It is interesting to note that whenever we make holidays or special occasions, it is always in confluence with a directly perceived act of God. All major festivals, even those related to the seasons of the year, are associated with some Divine act or revelation. Hallel is recited only on occasions where Divine influence is noticeable (and not when it isn't, i.e. Purim). The reasoning would seem to be so that future generations do not misrepresent the nature of the occasion and turn it towards idolatry (or away from God).
July 25, 2006
Jastrow: Online, Fully Indexed and Ready to ROCK
Via LAMED:
Years ago, when we were in yeshiva, there was only one dictionary: Jastrow...Now it is online and fully indexed here.
I flat out love the Jastrow. The online version is an indispensable resource for just about any serious Jewish blogger. This version has just about everything; the only thing I could think of that would make it better would be if there were some way for me to link directly to a defination, so, for example, I could create a link to e'd'n and other words. Boy, I could have some fun with that (did I ever tell you my theory on the shoresh ch'g'?)
June 20, 2006
Which Way Do the Rivers Flow? A Talmudic Conundrum
Rashi, s.v. "Until the River Azak..."
From the context it appears that Bavel is between two great rivers, Tigris and Euphrates; it is found between them, one from the west, the other from the east, and [the rivers] flow from south to north, and the end of the Euphrates empties into the Tigris. All this can be learned from: "The Land of Israel is south of Bavel, as it says, 'From the north will evil will come forth,'" meaning Bavel is in the north, the Euphrates descends from the Land of Israel to Bavel...
Tosofos, s.v. "Until where is Bavel?"
Rabbenu Tam explains that the Euphrates flows from north to south, since the Euphrates comes, "from the east of Eden," and Gan Eden is in the northern part of the world, while the Land of Israel is in the south. The Euphrates begins in Eden, and flows from north to south.
This exchange is interesting for a number of reasons. First off, as both Rashi and Rabbenu Tam are basing their geological estimations on statements of Chazal, it appears neither of them had access to a map of the region (and, although neither of them were exactly correct, R. Tam was more correct; the right answer is south-east). Rashi bases his position on the fact that Israel is called "higher than all other lands," a statement that is certainly meant to be taken in a spiritual sense, not a topographic one. R. Tam, it would appear, understood this to be a figurative statement (unless he felt water could flow uphill), instead basing his estimation on the purported location of Gan Eden and the text from Genesis 2.
From a halachic perspective, which direction the Tigris and the Euphrates actually flow makes little difference. This also gives you a good idea of the state of science/geography/cartogrophy available in Rashi's time (unless the information was in fact available, but was not relied upon), as well as indicating that the Rishonim took a hyper-literal interpretation of not only the text of Genesis 2, but many ancillary statements of Chazal.
June 6, 2006
The Zilberman Method
Last night, TA held an informational meeting for parents of children going into second grade on the Zilberman method. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to attend, so when I got home last night, I did a little online research to see what I could learn. There isn't much online (an inquiry on LOOKJED along with a few responses is pretty much the only formal discussions I found), so I thought I'd do my best to summarize what I know, and hopefully folks can chime in to give a more complete picture.
For those unfamiliar with the Zilberman method, it was started about 20 years ago by R. Yitzchok Shlomo Zilberman, who founded a school in the Old City that took an approach to Torah learning based on the Mishneh in Pirkei Avos (age five for Torah, ten for Mishneh, fifteen for Talmud); in the past, this approach has been championed by the Maharal and the Gra, but not widely adopted. The Zilberman approach reportedly gained popularity in Israel, and recently (within the past five years, I believe) was instituted in a number of schools in Lakewood. TA's R. Leventhal went to Israel a few years ago to learn the Zilberman method, and began teaching a single class at TA in the style; after making aliyah last year, R. Pollack received instruction in the method and continues in R. Leventhal's place.
The Zilberman method, based on Pirkei Avos, focuses on Chumash for younger boys, but the method is applied as well to Mishneh and Gemara. The method focuses on laining the Chumash with the ta'amei ha'mikra (tropp), and includes repitition so as to familiarize the student with the text as much as possible. Basically, the class will take a section of Chumash, learn to lain it with the tropp, and repeat it several times in order to commit it to memory (I do not know if, in American schools, this includes translation). This is in contradistinction to the traditional approach, which does not focus as much on memorization, but in understanding the story, words and explanation of the text (usually based on Rashi). Besides familiarity and memorization of the text, the Zilberman approach touts many other benefits as well (R. Kahane sent a letter explaining these, but there was little substantive information other than vague platitudes to the quasi-supernatural inherenet knowledge of the method's proponents).
TA's current approach is to start a Zilberman method class in second grade, continuing through the rest of elementary school; I do not know if they take the Zilberman approach beyond Chumash, or, if once Chumash is completed, they begin a traditional Mishneh/Talmud curriculum (I don't know for sure, but I am guessing the Nach portion is skipped over in American schools). The goal here, I believe, is to provide the student with knowledge and familiarty with verses quoted in the Mishneh/Talmud, saving them the need to open a Chumash and learn the relavent text while learning a sugya.
That's about as much information as I have; my intial reactions to hearing about this method a year or so ago was that, for American students, this approach does not make sense. For Israeli boys, fluent in Hebrew, a simple laining of the Chumash may be enough to convey the plain meaning of the text; in America, where Hebrew is mostly unlearned in a linguistic fashion, it would seem that while the students absorbed the text in a superficial fashion, there would be no real understanding, and certainly no critical understanding. What would result is a familiarty with the text, making it easier to incorporate into later gemara learning.
Recently, however, my opinion changed. My son is in R. Pollack's first grade class at TA; for Parshas Noach, R. Pollack has been teaching them both the traditional and Zilberman method (I don't know this for a fact, all I know is that Ezra has been wanting to lain his Chumash instead of reading and translating; he does, however, still know the translation, which leads me to believe that R. Pollack is teaching both methods). I have to say, I am very impressed with Ezra's knowledge; he is able to lain the psukim covered in class, and has shown interest in laining other parts of Chumash that he has yet to learn (he enjoys reading with the tropp). I really don't have enough information to make a conclusive decision as to whether or not I would want him taking this approach fully, but I am much more inclined after this than before. In addition, comments I have heard from parents with older students have been positive.
I am interested in finding out if there are any professional/academic assessments of this approach (beyond what assorted "gedolim" say), and if the Zilberman method has any correlations in other educational approaches. There is little information online (a Yahoo Search for "zilberman method" should turn up the few pages out there, mostly schools advertising their programs or newsgroup threads), hopefully we can get some good discussion in the comments, maybe even from some people who went last night, or have children in the program at TA.
Update: I did find references to the "Barkai system," which, based on this paper entitled, "An Analysis of the Implementation of The Barkai Method in the Orot Etzion School System," by Steven Esses, sounds similar to the Zilberman method.
March 23, 2005
There's always a reason
In case you were wondering why God invented the iPod:
ShasPod - the all-in-one solution to joining the 12th Daf Yomi cycle. The complete set of Rav Dovid Grossman's shiurim, as featured on DafYomi.org, is now available pre-loaded on a 20 gigabyte iPod.
Apparently, this item's made it's way around the web already, but this was the first I've heard of it.
Update: In the comments, Abe astutely points out the typical life expectancy of the iPod is far shorter than the Daf Yomi cycle, and Apple usually wipes the memory when they replace the battery. Looks like we need a Daf Yomi podcast.
February 10, 2005
"My idea was that I'm trying to substitute a book for a living teacher..."
Menachem Butler points to the NY Times article about the presentation of a complete translation of the Schottenstein edition of the Talmud (aka, the Artscroll Gemara) to the Library of Congress.
There are a few interesting tidbits in this article. The money quote, which is also the title of this post, is from R. Adin Steinsaltz (oh how I wish it were from R. Nosson Scherman; it would have been so perfect): "My idea was that I'm trying to substitute a book for a living teacher." I believe a link to Rupture and Reconstruction is in order. And that's all I have to say about that.
The other interesting question that is raised is the nature of the translation done by Artscroll. I'm not an expert in the academic translation of ancient texts by any measure (although I took a class in college...), but I would guess that the method used by Artscroll would not meet the Standards and Practices statutes of, for lack of a better term, academic scholarly translations. The Artscroll translation is not, in essence, a translation so much as an interpretation. Artscroll stays true to the current accepted meaning of the text, rather than investigating and translating the linguistic usage in the cultural/historical context of the Talmud into a contemporary vernacular. Additionally, there is little in the way of current knowledge from extra-Talmudic source incorporated into the commentary, other than the somewhat confused but well-intentioned geographic musings of 11th century French rabbis who happen to think Babylonia is upside down (cf. Rashi, 4th perek of Kiddushin).
The question which the article, and pretty much everyone else, fail to ask is how this affects, augments or decreases the "authenticity" of this translation to the reader, particularly if he resides outside the community in which it was produced and draws influence from. Are there other organizations performing the type of translation/interpretation on ancient texts? How does the academic community view such works (not that they set the bar, but as a comparison)? If you have answers, please let me know. It does occur to me that this style of translation might be considered, or be more akin to, the process that the Gemara itself goes through when attempting to understand the statements of the Mishna, in which case, the project takes on an even greater level of significance in terms of the tradition of the Oral Law.
Either way, you've got to love the picture of R. Nosson Scherman with a Steinsaltz Gemara.
February 26, 2004
Call me 'Cold Fish'
PaleoJudaica has a nice roundup of commentary about the quality of the Aramaic spoken in The Passion. Sounds a bit shaky.
Nothing beats a good Talmudic Aramaic put-down. My personal favorite: "Al tikrei Hamnuna, ela Kar-nuna." Snap! Oh no you didn't!
On a related note, I also noticed in the preview that Pontius Pilate quotes Nietzsche.
I'm in a bit of a fatuous mood today, in case you can't tell.
September 15, 2003
Sotah 2A
I started reviewing Sotah, the section of the Talmud dealing with the itinerant wife (My chavrusah and I are currently in the third chapter). The tractate opens with a discussion of how a jealous husband goes about appropriately warning his wife to keep away from a specific person.
The Talmud infers from the wording of the Mishneh that issuing this warning (kinui) is forbidden. It then follows with a discussion of how Reish Lakish would begin teaching Sotah:
א"ר שמואל בר רב יצחק כי הוה פתח ריש לקיש בסוטה אמר הכי אין מזווגין לו לאדם אשה אלא לפי מעשיו שנא' (תהילים קכה) כי לא ינוח שבט הרשע על גורל הצדיקים אמר רבה בר בר חנה אמר ר' יוחנן וקשין לזווגן כקריעת ים סוף שנאמר (תהילים סח) אלהים מושיב יחידים ביתה מוציא אסירים בכושרות איני והא אמר רב יהודה אמר רב ארבעים יום קודם יצירת הולד בת קול יוצאת ואומרת בת פלוני לפלוני בית פלוני לפלוני שדה פלוני לפלוני לא קשיא הא בזוג ראשון הא בזוג שני
Says R. Shmuel Bar Yitzchak, "When Reish Lakish would begin [teaching] Sotah, he would say this: A person is only matched [i.e. married] to a woman according to his deeds, as it says (Psalms 125) 'The scepter of the evil will not rest in the portion of the righteous.' Says Rabbah Bar Bar Channah in the name of R. Yochanan: And their pairing is as difficult as parting of the [Red] Sea, as it says (Psalms 68): 'God returns individuals to their homes, He frees the prisoners in distress.' Is that so? For R. Yehudah says in the name of Rav: 'Forty days before the creation of a child, a voice from Heaven cries out, 'So and so will marry so and so, the house of so and so will go to so and so, the field such and such will go to so and so'. [This is not a contradiction], rather, [the latter] refers to one's first match, while [the former] refers to one's second match. [Translation is my own]
This entire dialogue, including the statement that Sotah is a forbidden practice, is all included in one paragraph of the Talmud (Sotah 2A). When I first learned it through, I was unsure of a connection between the two statements. Rather, they appeared to be simply lumped together. Upon reexamining them this morning, however, I think I have a better understanding of how the two statements are related.
Reish Lakish is essentially advocating a view that everything that happens to us is due to our deeds, our merit. If we have a bad wife, it is because we deserved it. Reish Lakish's view is that the world is ordered, by God, and that justice will always be done.
The second view (which is quoted in the name of R. Yochanan, the traditional 'bar plugta' of Reish Lakish) presents a different view of the world. There are things that, when we are born into this world, over which we have no control. Certain facts, established well before we are born, determine for us the outcome of certain things in our life. Rashi brings the famous statement Aggadata, that before each child is conceived, the Angel in charge of conception brings each seed before God, and it is decreed if the child will be strong or weak, rich or poor, wise or stupid. It is not, however, decreed whether or not the child will be Good or Evil, for only man can decide this. This, Rashi says, is what is called Mazel (interesting corrallary to this would be the Gemara at the end of Moed Kattan. Not to mention, "Ain Mazel L'Yisrael").
With this understanding, I believe the passage makes sense as a whole. The Talmud states that ideally, it is forbidden to issue the Sotah warning to your wife. Reish Lakish is brought in support of this, since each person is only given a wife according to his merit. His situation is obviously his own doing, so he must learn to live with it. R. Yochanan's opinion is brought as a challenge. Whom one is married to is decreed by Mazel, and their is nothing one can do to control it. Why should one sit back and let Mazel make his life miserable? Let him take control of his own life.
Now the Talmud's answer makes even more sense, beyond a simply apologetic accomadation of both views. One's first wife is decided by Mazel. If all goes well, good, and if not, should he decide to take the reins and decide his own future, then his next wife is granted to him according to his merit. God even goes to the trouble of 'parting the Seas' (subverting the laws of nature) to make the match. In this case, once a person is taking control of his own life, the Sotah procedure is forbidden (since it is essentially one turning over the decision to God), as this person has shown prior to that he can make decisions and take control.
There is a lot more here to be discussed, but this is all for now. I will note that the themes and questions of God's justice are prevalent throughout Sotah (at least the first two chapters, anyway). As I continue my review, I'll try and focus on this aspect, since I think it is ultimately the main point of the tractate and represents what this commandment is really trying to teach us.