Maimonides and Nachmanides on the Relationship Between the Plain Meaning and Midrashic Interpretation

[Speaker A] There’s a nice point here in Maimonides; there are several sources in Maimonides—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —from which it emerges that even a law given to Moses at Sinai is a law from the words of the Sages, rabbinic. In the Commentary on the Mishnah in several places, and in the Mishneh Torah there’s a bit of a contradiction about this; there are places where it seems one way and places where it seems the other way. I think those contradictions can be explained through a distinction similar to the one Maimonides makes here regarding laws that emerge from expositions: a law given to Moses at Sinai that comes to interpret an existing law is of course an interpretation, and what that creates is a Torah-level law. But a law given to Moses at Sinai that introduces a new law, an innovative law, that is a law from the words of the Sages. I’m not going into that right now, but for our purposes, if that really is the case—by the way, there in the context of a law given to Moses at Sinai Maimonides says even more than that, and therefore really in a case of doubt we would rule leniently. Maimonides writes in the Commentary on the Mishnah to Kelim—laws of slaughtering, or maybe somewhere else, but in the Commentary on the Mishnah to Kelim you can see that Maimonides treats this as genuinely rabbinic law, meaning that in a doubtful case it should also be ruled leniently. And there he explains why it is not lenient there, because there it’s talking about prescribed measures. So the measures are a law given to Moses at Sinai, but the measures are measures for laws written in the Torah. So what I said before: when a law given to Moses at Sinai interprets some law written in the Torah, then certainly the result is a Torah-level result. But if it introduces a new law, then the result is rabbinic.

But as far as our discussion goes, what comes out from Maimonides here is that both a law given to Moses at Sinai and a law learned from exposition are rabbinic laws. And that basically means the following: according to Maimonides, a Torah-level law requires two conditions. There has to be a tradition regarding it going back to Moses at Sinai, and it also has to have an exegetical anchor in the written verse. I’m not talking, of course, about things that the Sadducees agree to—that is, laws explicitly written in the Torah. Those are certainly Torah-level; that’s not what we’re discussing. We’re talking about laws that are not written explicitly in the Torah and do not emerge from the plain meaning, as distinct from an exegetical interpretation. There Maimonides gives this criterion: if there is both a tradition and an exposition that anchors that tradition in the verse, then that too is Torah-level. If one of those two requirements is missing, then it becomes a rabbinic law.

So a law given to Moses at Sinai—we have a tradition about it, but we don’t have… A law given to Moses at Sinai, in the technical professional sense, is not everything that was given to Moses at Sinai. It means something given to Moses at Sinai for which we have no textual anchor, meaning no exposition either. That is what Maimonides calls a law given to Moses at Sinai, and that is rabbinic. And an exegetical law for which we have no tradition from Sinai—we only have the exposition, meaning a creative exposition—that too is rabbinic. You need both requirements for the law to be a Torah-level law.

Nachmanides already objects to this point, because he really doesn’t understand what Maimonides is doing here. How can it be that each of these two requirements on its own does not make the law a Torah-level law—meaning, a tradition from Sinai is not enough to make a law Torah-level; an exposition that anchors the law in the verse is also not enough to make the law Torah-level—but the combination of the two is enough? How does the combination do what neither of the two components can do on its own? I’ll comment on that later.

In any case, regarding Maimonides’ innovation here in the second root, the commentators on Maimonides disagreed about what he means. Nachmanides understood Maimonides literally: that a law that arises from exposition—that is, a creative exposition—is genuinely rabbinic in every respect, with doubt ruled leniently and all the implications of rabbinic law. That is indeed very problematic. Nachmanides here raises bundles and bundles of difficulties from the Talmud, from logic, from the Talmud again, from all sorts of angles—but that’s how he understood Maimonides.

In contrast to Nachmanides, the Tashbetz began a different path. The Tashbetz—and afterward he writes that this interpretation he arrived at in Maimonides found great favor—that Maimonides really intends only to speak about the source of the law, not its legal force. When Maimonides says that a law created by exposition is a law “from the words of the Sages” or rabbinic, that only means that the source of the law is from the Sages, from the rabbis. But the legal status of that law is Torah-level. In other words, there is some kind of meta-halakhic statement here, a statement in the theory of Jewish law, but not a legal ruling. There is no legal distinction here between a creative exposition and a supportive exposition.

Following the Tashbetz, and certainly most of the later commentators on Maimonides, take that approach: that Maimonides too agrees this is Torah-level, and he uses the term rabbinic here only to speak about the source of the law, not its legal status. This, taken literally, can almost not be said. The question is how far one should avoid saying it—that’s worth discussing, and I’m not going into the details now. I’ll just bring one example, one example from Maimonides himself.

Maimonides, in the introduction to Sefer HaMitzvot—look at the second page of the source sheet—Maimonides writes there as follows: “Whenever it is written in the Torah that whoever performs a certain act shall be put to death or becomes liable to karet, we know in truth that that act is forbidden and that it falls under a negative commandment.” Meaning, if it says there is a punishment, then clearly there is also a warning. “Now sometimes the warning is explained in the text and the punishment is not explained, and sometimes the punishment is mentioned and the warning is mentioned,” like desecrating the Sabbath and idolatry: “You shall do no work,” “You shall not worship them,” and afterward the Torah imposes stoning on one who did the work or worshipped. “And sometimes the warning is not explained in the verse as a simple negative commandment, but only the punishment is mentioned and the warning is left unstated.” Meaning, there are cases where the verse contains only the punishment and the warning is not written.

“But our principle, our rule, is that Scripture does not punish unless it has first warned, and it is impossible for there not to be a warning for anything for which a punishment is incurred.” Meaning, if there is a punishment, then clearly there is a warning; without a warning you cannot impose punishment. That’s really a theoretical statement, because even when only the punishment is written, we always ask: we found the punishment, but from where do we know the warning? After all, there can’t be punishment without warning. We always find some warning, and only then do we punish; we don’t leave verses orphaned. So theoretically, if we found a punishment and could not find a warning, we would have to refrain from punishing, even if the Torah says “he shall surely be put to death,” or says he should receive lashes or something like that. Such a thing is impossible.

So what do we do with that verse? This is basically a methodological rule, a guiding principle that tells us: if we found a punishment, then usually—not usually, always—we have to look for some warning too, because otherwise the Torah would not have imposed punishment. And the well-known words of Sefer HaChinukh on this in commandment 65—I won’t go into that here. There is also an interesting Minchat Chinukh on this regarding one who suppresses his prophecy; he talks there about Jonah, that maybe there we found a punishment without a warning—but look that up in your free time.

And when the warning is not explained explicitly in the verse, says Maimonides, “it is learned by analogy from the Torah’s analogies,” as they mentioned with the warning against cursing one’s father or mother and striking one’s father or mother, where the warning is not explained in the verse at all. It does not say, “Do not curse your father,” and it does not say, “Do not strike your father,” but one who strikes or curses is liable to death. So in the Torah we found only the punishment and not the warning. “And we know that these are negative commandments, and we derived the warning for them and similar cases from elsewhere by way of analogy.”

So sometimes, says Maimonides, when we find a punishment, there clearly must also be a warning—but we won’t always find the warning explicitly in the verse. Sometimes we’ll find it by way of analogy, through exposition. “And this does not contradict their statement, ‘We do not derive a warning by logic.’” Maimonides says that if we find the warning by analogy, through exposition, then seemingly this contradicts the rule that we do not punish based on logical derivation. That “seemingly” is very strange, really very strange, because in the standard conception “we do not punish based on logical derivation” refers only to an a fortiori argument. “Din” means an a fortiori argument—“is it not a logical inference?” Yes, “din” there means that. We do not punish based on logical derivation means we do not punish based on an a fortiori argument. For Maimonides it’s not like that. For him, “we do not punish based on logical derivation” means we do not punish based on anything derived from the thirteen hermeneutical principles. That is called “din.” And Nachmanides already attacks him on that point too; maybe I’ll say something about that later.

So this does not contradict the rule “we do not derive a warning by logic.” Now it’s clear to us what troubles Maimonides. Maimonides says: how can it be that the warning we find can come from “din,” from exposition? After all, we do not derive a warning by logic—you cannot punish on the basis of a warning that itself comes from logical derivation. “Nor does it contradict their constant expression, ‘Do we derive a warning by logic?’ For we only say that we do not derive a warning by logic in order to forbid that for which no specific prohibition was made clear through analogy. But when a punishment is explicitly found in the Torah for someone who does that act, then we know necessarily that the act is forbidden and one is warned against it, and we derive the warning by analogy in order to strengthen for us the principle of their statement that Scripture does not punish unless it has first warned. And once a warning has been established for that matter, the one who transgressed and did it becomes liable to karet or death. Know this introduction and remember it together with the previous roots.”

What is he really saying? He’s saying this does not contradict the rule that we do not derive a warning by logic, because in a case where the punishment is explicitly written in the Torah, then even a warning derived by logic is sufficient. In a case where there is no punishment written in the Torah and we derive the warning by logic, then we do not derive a warning by logic. But where the punishment is explicit, and all we need is just the basis for the warning, then exposition is enough for that too.

So first of all, in Maimonides, even before the whole issue of “we do not derive a warning by logic,” which I’m not planning to discuss here, you can infer the negative from the positive. In other words, where the punishment is not written and we found a warning learned by one of the hermeneutical methods, then indeed we do not derive a warning by logic. Only where the punishment is written and we found the warning through exposition is it okay. But if the punishment is not written, then we do not derive a warning by logic. That of course joins what we saw in the second root, where Maimonides says that things learned through exposition have the status of rabbinic law. According to Maimonides, “we do not derive a warning by logic” means that it is rabbinic and not Torah-level, and that there are practical consequences: we do not punish for it, we do not administer lashes for it, and so on. Meaning, Maimonides apparently intends here to make a halakhic statement too, not just a statement about the source of the law. There is also a legal issue here.

How far do we go with that legal aspect? When we speak of a rabbinic law, a law of creative exposition that is rabbinic—do we also say that in a doubtful case we rule leniently? Do we also apply all the implications of ordinary rabbinic law to it? That’s not so simple. In my humble opinion, a Torah-level doubt—but even according to Maimonides, stringency in doubt is not itself Torah-level; it’s just stringency in doubt. But I’m not going into that whole topic here.

As I said, Nachmanides understood Maimonides literally, that Maimonides means exactly that this law is a rabbinic law. Therefore, if you look near the end of his glosses, in the last three lines of Nachmanides’ objections on the second page already: “And this is what I had in mind to write on this principle, in the utmost brevity.” Nachmanides’ “utmost brevity” is hard enough to survive, for anyone who knows these glosses—but apparently he had much more to write and didn’t write all of it. “And I know that many more teachings in the Gemara contradict it. For this book of the Rabbi”—meaning Maimonides—“is full of sweetness and altogether delightful, except for this principle, which uproots great mountains in the Talmud and topples fortified walls in the Gemara, and for students of the Gemara the matter is evil and bitter. Let this thing be buried and not said.”

In other words, Nachmanides says: he has other disagreements with Maimonides too; this is not the only one. But it seems to me that this is the only place where he really expresses himself in such extreme terms. Because Nachmanides understands that here there is a very, very fundamental departure from the framework of the tradition we received. This is not some local disagreement. There is something here that really goes against everything accepted in our hands: that a law derived from exposition would be rabbinic rather than Torah-level. The whole Talmud is full of evidence against that claim. And in the end Nachmanides says: you simply cannot say such a thing. This is not a dispute one can treat as two legitimate sides; it is outside the framework.

Now, regarding this determination of Maimonides, it can be discussed on two planes—which are really three. One can discuss it—and whoever discusses it usually does so on this plane—as a question of what halakhic theory, really meta-halakhic theory, stands behind this determination. In other words, how does Maimonides understand the concepts of Torah-level and rabbinic? How does he arrive at the conclusion that laws derived from exposition are rabbinic laws? That is the plane of legal theory.

Apparently the meaning of the concepts Torah-level and rabbinic in Maimonides is not the meaning we usually know. Although, as I said before, I personally am fairly convinced that Maimonides also intended practical legal implications. But they are not as sweeping as Nachmanides at least thought Maimonides meant. There is something mixed here, and in Maimonides the concepts Torah-level and rabbinic are defined differently. Maybe I’ll say more about that later.

I’ll already say here that according to Maimonides there is probably a continuum of levels. It is not divided in a sharp dichotomy into Torah-level and rabbinic. There is a continuum of levels. There is fully Torah-level, almost Torah-level, somewhat Torah-level, very slightly Torah-level, and completely not Torah-level. Sometimes we identify that with asmakhta; the well-known words of the Ritva who says that asmakhta is—but I won’t go into that here. That’s the first plane.

And the second plane is the question of Maimonides’ interpretive theory. Meaning: how does Maimonides relate to the concept of exposition? What is exposition at all? What is exposition as opposed to plain meaning? Once we understand what exposition is as opposed to plain meaning, then we may also understand Maimonides’ meta-halakhic and halakhic determinations that revolve around this concept called exposition. Here of course the question is: what is the relationship between the law learned from exposition and what is written in the verse? To what extent is it connected to what is written… to what is written in the verse.

And if I go back for a moment to the first plane: on the first plane we talked about legal status, or the meta-halakhic theory that deals with the question of what is Torah-level and what is rabbinic. Here I’m talking about the interpretive root, which is the root of that same meta-halakhic issue. In other words, the relationship between exposition and plain meaning basically determines what is Torah-level and what is rabbinic.

And maybe I’ll already say something here. Maimonides—I’ll jump ahead to the conclusion regarding the first plane. Maimonides interprets the concept Torah-level as opposed to rabbinic as something found in the Torah versus something not found in the Torah. That is the difference between Torah-level and rabbinic. And I’ll sharpen that through comparison to another distinction familiar to us: the distinction between Written Torah and Oral Torah. That is not a distinction with much legal significance, maybe on the margins. It’s a meta-halakhic or philosophical distinction, if you want to call it that, between Written Torah and Oral Torah. It is obviously not the same as the distinction between Torah-level and rabbinic, and Written Torah and Oral Torah. Written Torah and Oral Torah are both subcategories of Torah-level law. There is Torah-level law that is Written Torah, and Torah-level law that is Oral Torah. The question whether rabbinic law in the traditional sense—I mean decrees, fences, enactments—is also called Oral Torah, at some point that too seems to have been accepted somehow, but originally I think the distinction between Written Torah and Oral Torah refers to two subcategories within Torah-level law.

For Maimonides it is not so. Maimonides identifies these two distinctions, and for him the distinction between Written Torah and Oral Torah overlaps with the distinction between Torah-level and rabbinic. Written Torah is Torah-level, and Oral Torah is rabbinic. When Maimonides uses the concept Torah-level, he interprets it literally. Torah-level means “in the Torah,” that is, from the Torah, taken from the Torah, found in the Torah. That is called Torah-level. What is not taken from the Torah is not Torah-level. What belongs to Oral Torah is not taken from the Torah, so it is not Torah-level.

And just to summarize in relation to what I said before: now perhaps one can also understand the different gradations between Torah-level and rabbinic that I mentioned in Maimonides. Maimonides sees the levels of connection between a law and what is written in the verses as a continuum. It’s not either it’s there or it’s not there. Some things are fully there, some are a bit less there, and the tighter that connection is, the closer we get to the concept of Torah-level.

But as I said earlier, the root of this innovation in Maimonides lies on the interpretive plane. And Maimonides himself—look at the root… in his words in the section “And ignorance has already reached them,” the second paragraph I brought. “And ignorance has already reached them”—he argues with the author of Halakhot Gedolot, as is his way in the roots. “Nothing is harder than this: when they found an exposition on a verse from which they derived an obligation to perform some action or avoid some matter, and all of these are, without a doubt, rabbinic, they counted them among the commandments, even though the plain meaning of the verse does not indicate any of those matters.” What is that “even though”? In other words, the author of Halakhot Gedolot does something outrageous: he counts as a Torah-level law something whose plain meaning does not indicate it. So what? Everybody counts such things. Lots of laws learned from exposition are things the plain meaning of the verse does not indicate, and we usually count them among the commandments.

Maimonides obviously understands that this is the criterion. Something the plain meaning of the verse indicates can enter the count of commandments and be considered Torah-level. Something the plain meaning of the verse does not indicate—even if… “with the principle our Sages of blessed memory gave us, namely their saying: ‘A verse does not depart from its plain meaning.’ And the Talmud asks everywhere: ‘What is the verse itself speaking about?’ when they found a verse from which many things are learned by way of explanation and proof.” Yes, “the Talmud asks everywhere” is a bit exaggerated, people have already pointed that out. Maybe there’s one or two places. In any case, Maimonides grounds his determination in this principle that a verse does not depart from its plain meaning.

Usually, when we understand the principle “a verse does not depart from its plain meaning,” we understand that besides the exposition we learned, of course the plain meaning also retains significance—how it is written in its straightforward sense. “An eye for an eye”—we expound that as monetary compensation, but at the end of the day the Torah said “an eye for an eye.” So why did it express itself that way? Apparently the plain meaning also has something to tell us. According to at least one opinion, the simple explanation is that we assess the value with reference to the eye of the injured party. That is, of course, a direct implication of the plain meaning. When one person puts out another’s eye, the law really says that in place of the eye he removed, the attacker’s eye should be removed. Only the exposition tells us that we don’t actually take an eye; instead we pay money. But what money? Money corresponding to the eye he should have had to lose on my account, not corresponding to his own eye. So really it’s a combination of the exposition and the plain meaning. True, we don’t rule that way in practice. But in principle, “a verse does not depart from its plain meaning” is usually interpreted to mean that besides the exposition, you also should not ignore the straightforward wording.

But Maimonides doesn’t understand it that way here. Maimonides attacks exactly at this point. Maimonides says: “a verse does not depart from its plain meaning” means that every verse in the Torah has only one correct interpretation. That is Maimonides’ interpretive method. Maimonides says every verse in the Torah has only one correct interpretation, and that interpretation is what we call the plain meaning. I’m not going now into the question whether that means literal plain meaning or what exactly the criterion for plain meaning is. The most correct interpretation, however you arrive at it in the verse—that is what is called plain meaning, and that is the only true interpretation the verse has. Nothing else can count as an interpretation of that verse. Consequently, you cannot count what emerges from exposition among the commandments or treat it as Torah-level. Why? Because it is not the interpretation of the verse. It is not written in the verse. As I said earlier, only something that is in the verse, only something written in the Torah, is defined as Torah-level.

[Speaker A] What about things that come up in the section on forbidden sexual relations—there’s no explicit prohibition of a father with his daughter. So that’s not Torah-level?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I’m not getting into specific questions now. There are books and long articles on how this Maimonides is reconciled, because he himself brings laws like that. Fine, it could be that there there was also a tradition in addition to the exposition. There are all sorts of solutions. Maimonides says that when there is a tradition in addition to the exposition, then yes, it is Torah-level. Okay? I’m not getting into specific questions now.

In any case, this is what Maimonides understands. The anchor, the fundamental basis of his innovation, is really an interpretive basis. And Maimonides’ interpretive theory is that every verse has only one correct interpretation. There is no more than one correct interpretation.

And now of course the question arises—and Nachmanides felt this, and maybe I’ll even read now from Nachmanides’ words. Nachmanides sensed the heart of the dispute, and that is exactly where he puts his finger, and he did not accept it. I’ll read from the third paragraph. “And behold, the Rabbi has hung this falling mountain on a hair. He said: the principle our Sages of blessed memory taught us is their statement, ‘A verse does not depart from its plain meaning.’” Right? He hung the falling mountain on a hair. Nachmanides also senses that everything depends on this point. It all depends on this interpretive question, and from here Maimonides proceeds, so Nachmanides attacks him exactly there. “And the Talmud’s language searches everywhere and says, ‘What is the verse itself talking about?’ Heaven forbid—for all the expositions concerning commandments,” that is a very interesting point, the expositions concerning commandments—as opposed to what, maybe as opposed to aggadic midrash—“do not remove the verse from its plain meaning; rather all of them are included in the language of the verse, even though they include many expansions.”

What is he saying? Don’t be mistaken. Maimonides basically starts from an interpretive theory that says every verse has only one correct interpretation. A second assumption: the plain meaning is the most correct interpretation, and therefore it is the interpretation of the verse. The exposition is another interpretation in quotation marks—but there is no other interpretation. Therefore obviously the exposition is not an interpretation of the verse. Exposition is an expansion of the verse. And if so, then exposition did not uncover something written in the verse, but created something beyond what is written in the verse. Since that’s the case, it is not something that appears in the Torah—or is even latent in the Torah. It is something the Sages created by means of these tools called the tools of exposition. And therefore, according to the earlier definition I gave, that a Torah-level law for Maimonides is only something that exists in some form in the Torah, then a law that comes from exposition is not Torah-level.

And here Nachmanides attacks him. Nachmanides says: the root is wrong. The interpretive theory from which you started is not correct. There can be several interpretations of the same verse—why not? Seventy facets of Torah, pardes, all the things we’re used to. All the interpretations are valid at the same time. Why do you decide there is only one interpretation? Consequently, both the plain meaning and the exposition are valid interpretations of the verse, and therefore both uncover what is inside the verse, and so both deserve the crown of Torah-level.

By the way, parenthetically, it seems that Nachmanides accepts Maimonides’ basic principle: that only something that exists in some form in the Torah can be considered a Torah-level law. What he argues about is Maimonides’ interpretive theory. Does exposition really uncover something written in the verse, something behind the verse, or is it some sort of expansion beyond what is written in the verse?

And later he writes as well: “For the Torah of the Lord is perfect; there is no extra or missing letter in it. All were written with wisdom. And they did not find any principal exposition concerning commandments that removes a verse from its plain meaning, except for the exposition of ‘and it shall be for the firstborn that she bears’”—yes, the Gemara in Yevamot. And then he says—I’m moving to the second page, look at the third line—“And so it is everywhere with what they expound in matters of parable and figurative language: they believe that both are true, the inner and the outer.” In other words, the exposition and the plain meaning are both true interpretations of the verse, both are true—inner and outer. And there are more, not just two. There is no reason at all to assume that every verse has only one correct interpretation.

But Maimonides thinks there is. Maimonides says there is only one correct interpretation. So before I continue, let me go back to the difficulties I pointed out. We asked: why according to Maimonides are laws that come from exposition rabbinic laws? Now it’s clear: the criterion is that whatever is not found in the verse or latent in the verse is rabbinic law—rabbinic in the sense Maimonides is talking about.

Nachmanides asked another question: how can it be that two requirements, each of which on its own does not make the law Torah-level, when combined do make it Torah-level? In other words, we have a tradition from Sinai—that’s not enough, because a law given to Moses at Sinai is also from the words of the Sages. We have an exposition—that’s not enough, because a law created through exposition is from the words of the Sages. But if there is both tradition and exposition, then it is a Torah-level law. Why? How does the combination do something that neither of its components can do on its own? That too appears here in Nachmanides’ glosses.

And the answer, it seems to me, based on what I said before, is quite simple. Nachmanides really addresses this tradition and says as follows: if there is a tradition that is a law given to Moses at Sinai, and we did not find for it an exegetical anchor, then it is not written in the Torah, so it is not Torah-level because it is not from the Torah; it is oral tradition. But if we did find it an exegetical anchor, then that tradition is basically telling us that the exposition we made is an uncovering exposition and not an expanding exposition. That exposition really revealed to us what is written in the verse. That is why we received this law through tradition—to teach us that the exposition we are making is actually uncovering rather than expanding. For example, “You shall fear the Lord your God”—to include Torah scholars. That is the example Nachmanides uses throughout this whole root.

[Speaker C] But that itself shows that a thing can have several interpretations of the verse. What? “You shall fear the Lord” in the exposition—that can mean there are several interpretations. No, not necessarily.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It could be that this is the true interpretation.

[Speaker C] No, it’s not the plain, straightforward meaning, I mean.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—who says it isn’t? It could be that it is; that already depends on other questions. Let me just sharpen this. “You shall fear the Lord your God”—to include Torah scholars. So “You shall fear the Lord your God” is an exposition, and Maimonides says that is from the words of the Sages. But if we had some sort of tradition that one must revere Torah scholars, then it is certainly possible that this tradition reveals to us that what is written in the verse—that one must fear the Holy One, blessed be He—also obligates us to fear Torah scholars. For example, because that is a branch of fear of God, or because it rests on the same foundation as fear of God. Two different conceptions, but both can connect us to the obligation of fear of Heaven.

But if we do not have such a tradition, then the verse tells us that one must fear the Holy One, blessed be He. The exposition expands that to say one must also fear Torah scholars. That expansion does not uncover what is written in the verse; and since that is so, it is rabbinic. If there had been a tradition, then we might have understood that this really is latent in the verse, and then it would have been Torah-level.

[Speaker D] But if it says “et”—“You shall fear the Lord your God”—to include Torah scholars, then shouldn’t that be Torah-level?