Our Gemara on Amud Beis uses an interesting phrase uttered by Ullah, expressing admiration and respect for Rav and Shmuel:

Who shall give us of the dust of the graves covering Rav and Shmuel? We would fill our eyes with that dust, as they were great and holy men.

What did Ullah wish to convey with this choice of words? Another Amora, Rav Chanina bar Pappi (Bava Basra 171b), makes the same declaration, so it’s a known idea, but we don’t know exactly what it means.

Putting dust in one’s eyes seems puzzling as an expression of honor. To understand this, we must look to a related account in Sanhedrin 47b, which provides essential context:

It was related that people would take dirt from the grave of Rav as a remedy for a one-day fever. A number of people reported this practice to Shmuel, questioning whether it might be prohibited, since one may not derive benefit from a corpse. Shmuel responded: They are acting properly, as the dirt in the grave is natural ground, and natural ground does not become forbidden in any situation.

This story reveals that the dirt from Rav’s grave held some therapeutic quality, specifically for a one-day fever. At the time, Shmuel was still alive.

However, after his passing, it appears his grave achieved a similar sanctified status. This equivalence in their posthumous influence suggests a divine endorsement of their equal spiritual stature.

The Ben Yehoyada (Sanhedrin 47b) suggests that Rav’s merit in sanctifying the ground by his grave was a middah k’negged middah (measure-for-measure) reward for his profound humility. Dirt, in its simplicity and lowliness, symbolizes a lack of pretension. Rav’s deep humility evidently permeated even the physical ground surrounding him. Perhaps because his consciousness was so humble, as holy as he was, he remained connected to the ground, transforming it into a source of healing.

The Aruch (entry: Ayin) notes that the cure was brought about by this dirt being applied to the eyes, and I suggest that this offers a further layer of symbolism. The eyes are frequently associated with lust, desire, and arrogance. One Hebrew expression for haughtiness is eynayim ramos (Mishlei 6:17), literally “high eyes,” which is similar to the English phrase “stuck-up,” conveying an attitude of superiority.

The use of dirt from Rav’s grave—imbued with humility—might serve as a remedy for the spiritual illness of “haughty eyes.” It reminds the afflicted person to adopt Rav’s humility, counteracting their pride.

Interestingly, dirt in the eyes is generally an irritant, not a remedy. However, when viewed metaphorically, this irritation could represent the discomfort of cognitive dissonance—a necessary precursor to personal growth. An arrogant person often faces relational or situational setbacks that should prompt self-reflection. In this sense, the speck of dirt serves as both a physical irritant and a symbolic reminder of the damage even a small amount of arrogance can inflict.

The people around us, when they irritate us, might actually be important sources of information. Their irritation with us might be the only unfiltered feedback about our own shortcomings that we can learn by taking what they see from their eyes into our eyes, even if that is irritating at first. The irritant of the dirt, paired with the sanctity of Rav’s humility, forces the afflicted to “see” themselves clearly and recalibrate their perspective.

Ullah’s and Rabbi Ḥanina bar Pappi’s statement about placing the dust of Rav and Shmuel on their eyes takes on deeper meaning when viewed through this lens. It signifies his desire to emulate their humility, recognizing its transformative power both in life and in death.