Study and Halachic Rulings – Lesson 2

This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

[0:00] The connection between study and halakhic ruling, and an introduction
[2:20] Analysis of Rashi on Parashat Bechukotai
[7:33] The Tur and the Shulchan Arukh’s division into four sections
[16:36] Understanding the concept of Choshen Mishpat and the paradox
[20:58] Rashi versus Tosafot on the passage
[28:25] Presentation of the story of Ben Petora in the Rashba
[32:34] Duties and rights in relation to a loan
[33:43] Defining Choshen Mishpat and its connection to rights
[37:25] Rabbi Abramsky’s story about fixed/usurious interest
[38:54] Distinction: Yoreh De’ah versus Choshen Mishpat
[42:52] The case of Alexander of Macedon and the treasure in the field
[45:20] The role of the religious court in protecting rights
[51:09] Summary: the discourse of rights in the division of Jewish law
[53:50] The concept of territory and property rights
[57:50] The law of the pursuer and the justification for killing

Summary

General Overview

The text presents a complex relationship between the study of Jewish law and halakhic ruling and practice, and argues that halakhic study is not merely a means of knowing what to do, but has intrinsic value as part of the very essence of Torah. It then develops an internal distinction within Jewish law itself between an area in which obligation arises from one person’s rights vis-à-vis another person, and areas in which obligation is a commandment imposed on a person even when it is directed toward another. On that basis, the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh’s division is explained as a categorical division, and the meaning of Choshen Mishpat is clarified as the language of rights in Jewish law, as opposed to Yoreh De’ah as the language of duties. Finally, the text analyzes the passage “What is the law regarding saving oneself through another person’s property?” and the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot, and develops a conception of ownership as “territory” that creates a boundary not dependent on the severity of an ordinary prohibition.

The Value of Halakhic Study versus Knowing Practical Action

The text argues that the purpose of halakhic study includes intrinsic value and is not limited to knowing what to do in practice. The example of the wayward and rebellious son and the condemned city serves as proof, since one studies a halakhic passage even when “it never was and never will be,” because “expound it and receive reward” is a principle of study. The text explains that women’s obligation in the blessing over Torah, alongside their exemption from the commandment of Torah study, together with the words of the Magen Avraham and the Mishnah Berurah that they are obligated to learn the laws relevant to them, shows that studying in order to know what to do is not identical with the commandment of Torah study.

Rashi at the Beginning of Bechukotai: Three Distinct Values

The text summarizes the distinction through Rashi on “If you walk in My statutes, and keep My commandments, and do them,” and presents three components: “and do them” as fulfillment of the commandments, “that you should labor in Torah” as Torah study, and “labor in Torah in order to observe and fulfill” as study for the sake of practice. The text notes a textual problem in Rashi, where he seems to interpret “and keep My commandments” twice, and brings the Siftei Chachamim, who corrects the version so that “and do them” refers to fulfillment of the commandments. The text argues that there is no unnecessary duplication here, because the value of action, the value of preparation for action, and the value of laboring in Torah for its own sake all coexist, even within halakhic study.

The Division of Jewish Law: Content versus Category

The text compares the divisions of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi and Maimonides with the division of the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh, and argues that the former are content-based divisions, whereas the Tur’s division is a revolutionary categorical division into four sections. The text defines Orach Chayim as daily life, Yoreh De’ah as prohibition and permissibility, Even HaEzer as personal status, and Choshen Mishpat as the legal sphere that is not personal status. The text adds a sub-division between “rabbinics” (Orach Chayim and Yoreh De’ah) and “judicial law” (Choshen Mishpat and Even HaEzer), and presents this division as a category rather than a subject area, above which each section contains subject-based subdivisions.

What Defines Choshen Mishpat, and the Difficulty from Charity and Interest

The text examines the suggestion that Choshen Mishpat is “monetary law between one person and another” and rejects it, because the laws of charity and the laws of interest are also monetary obligations between people, yet they appear in Yoreh De’ah. The text presents a discussion in which it is suggested that the difference may be that charity and interest are “my prohibition” and not a system of mutual legal claim, and then sharpens the criterion in a different way. The text promises to present the issue through a paradox in which Choshen Mishpat is both “the most rigid and the most severe” and also “the most flexible.”

The Passage in Bava Kamma: Saving Oneself through Another Person’s Property and the Dispute between Rashi and Tosafot

The text brings Bava Kamma 60b concerning King David and the question “What is the law regarding saving oneself through another person’s property?” and the Sanhedrin’s answer: “It is forbidden to save oneself through another person’s property,” with the exception that “but you are a king, and a king may breach a path for himself, and no one protests.” The text presents Rashi’s reading in its plain sense, according to which a private individual must die rather than burn another person’s stack in order to save himself, and notes that Tosafot explain that the question is only whether he is obligated to pay afterward, because danger to life overrides theft or damage. The text describes the astonishment of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) at the possibility that theft might be treated as “be killed rather than transgress,” and cites in the name of Rabbi Lichtenstein the claim that this Rashi is “the mistaken gloss of a student,” while rejecting that claim and proposing that Rashi can in fact be justified.

The Rashba’s Responsum and the Precision that He Is Not Far from Rashi

The text quotes a responsum of the Rashba, part 4, which states that “nothing stands in the way of danger to life except those three listed,” and illustrates this with a flask of water in the desert and the dispute between Ben Petora and Rabbi Akiva (“and your brother shall live with you”). The text challenges the Rashba, who builds the permissibility on the idea that the owners “are obligated to give it to him for free and keep him alive,” and argues that even if the owners are obligated to save him, it does not follow that the endangered person has a right to take by force—just as a poor person is not entitled to take charity by force even if there is an obligation to give. The text infers from the Rashba that he found it necessary to say “there is no prohibition of theft here,” because in his view, had there been a prohibition of theft, there might indeed have been grounds to prohibit it—and in that sense he comes close to Rashi’s conceptual position, even if he does not rule like him in practice.

“Hohfeld’s Table” and the Claim that Choshen Mishpat Is the Discourse of Rights in Jewish Law

The text presents “Hohfeld’s table” as a legal principle according to which every duty corresponds to a right, and reports a common claim that “in the halakhic world there is no discourse of rights, only a discourse of duties.” The text argues that this claim is mistaken, and that Jewish law does in fact have a discourse of rights, and its name is Choshen Mishpat. The text defines Choshen Mishpat as the collection of laws in which the foundation of the obligation is one person’s right vis-à-vis another, whereas in Yoreh De’ah the obligations are commandment-based duties that do not begin with another person’s right.

Charity and Interest: Obligation without a Right of Legal Claim

The text explains that charity and interest belong to Yoreh De’ah because the poor person or the borrower does not possess a legal right of claim in the sense found in Choshen Mishpat, even though an obligation is imposed on the giver. The text argues that in the case of charity, “the religious court will coerce me under the law of coercion regarding commandments,” but it will not act “in order to vindicate your rights,” and formulates this by saying that the disabled do not have “rights”; rather, what one decides to give is charity, and they “can request” but not “demand.” The text discusses fixed/usurious interest, which “is extracted by judges,” and clarifies that despite the coercion, this still does not involve a right of the borrower, but coercion of the lender to fulfill a commandment.

The Story of Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky: The Borrower’s Status as a Witness, Not a Litigant

The text tells a story in the name of Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky, head of the London religious court, about a borrower who sued for the return of interest, and the court ruled that it was not fixed/usurious interest and refused to give reasons. The text relates that the borrower wanted to appeal and demanded an explanation, and Rabbi Abramsky answered that the court was correct because the borrower was not a litigant but a witness, since coercion to return interest is “under the law of coercion regarding commandments” and not the realization of the plaintiff’s monetary right. The text uses the story to support the claim that interest, even though the religious court is involved, still remains within the framework of Yoreh De’ah and not Choshen Mishpat.

Vayikra Rabbah on Alexander of Macedon: The Religious Court Acts Only When Rights Are Violated

The text brings a midrash in Vayikra Rabbah about Alexander of Macedon and an “African” king, in which buyer and seller argue over who should receive a treasure found in the ground, and each wants to give it to the other. The text argues that there is no place here for litigation in a religious court, because “no one is violating the other’s rights,” and therefore there is no plaintiff claiming that his rights were violated. The text distinguishes between “asking a rabbi” to clarify the theoretical law and appearing before a religious court as plaintiff and defendant, and argues that the religious court is designed to protect violated rights, not to intervene where no claim of violated right is being made.

The Difference between a Rabbi and a Judge: The Rental Story in Yerucham

The text tells a story about a former student who rented an apartment and agreed with the landlord to ask the rabbi what the law was, and the rabbi answered him on the assumption that those were the facts. The text relates that the landlord protested, “How can you issue a legal ruling without hearing me,” and explains that the rabbi had not issued a judicial ruling but answered a rabbinic query, whereas a judge must investigate the facts, hear both sides, and look for evidence. The text uses this story to illustrate that a binding decision of a religious court belongs to the framework of rights and claims, not to a general question of legal instruction.

Solving “Be Killed Rather than Transgress Theft” in Rashi: Ownership as Territory

The text returns to Rashi and argues that the point is not the severity of “you shall not steal,” but the fact that the money is “yours,” and ownership creates a right that is not nullified by another person’s danger to life. The text suggests that the prohibition against harming property is not only “the prohibition of theft,” but “a reflection of your right,” and formulates this as “considerations of territory,” in which every person has a sphere of control and decision that only he is authorized to decide about. The text argues that this is “not because of its severity” but “because of its character,” and therefore even if prohibitions are overridden by danger to life, a person still has no mandate to make decisions regarding someone else’s territory.

Examples of Territory: “Do Not Covet,” a Pursuer over a Shekel, and Zimri and Pinchas

The text brings a joke from a “clownish” friend about choosing between “you shall not steal” and “you shall not covet,” and argues that even if there were some calculation of prohibitions here, it would not justify taking a book, because “that book is mine” and the decision about it is entrusted to the owner. The text presents the example of a threat, “Either you give me a shekel or I’ll kill you,” and argues that it is permitted to kill the aggressor under the law of a pursuer, because the decision about the shekel belongs only to the owner and he is not obligated to give it. The text brings the law of Zimri and Pinchas in tractate Sanhedrin and the question raised in Kli Chemdah in the name of the Gerrer Rebbe—why Zimri could kill Pinchas if he could have saved himself by “stopping the sin”—and answers that “he is not obligated to stop sinning for him,” and therefore anyone who threatens him because of his choice is considered a pursuer. From this it follows that the discourse is not built on a scale of severity but on authority over one’s territory.

The Law of the Pursuer: Two Levels according to the Brisker Rav, and the Debate over Morality and Jewish Law

The text cites in the name of the Brisker Rav on Maimonides that in the law of the pursuer there are two things: “there is no prohibition of murder in killing him,” and also “there is an obligation upon me to kill him.” The text presents a classroom debate over whether “common sense” allows killing for the sake of a shekel, and the speaker insists that in his view there is “no problem at all,” and even “a commandment,” when that is the only way to defend oneself, and broadens the discussion to a thief, a burglar tunneling in, and an article he wrote in Techumin on the matter. The text also presents a claim about “using Jewish law as a spade to dig with,” and that when one tries to use Jewish law to harm another, it “nullifies itself,” illustrating this with the rule “a person cannot prohibit something that is not his.”

Summary of the Position: The Rigidity of Choshen Mishpat and the Expansion of Binyan Tziyon

The text concludes that the phrase “be killed rather than transgress theft” in Rashi is not counted among the three cardinal sins because it does not stem from severity but from the character of the boundary of ownership and decision-making authority. The text describes a reality in which the owner of the stack is “wicked” and refuses to let a person save himself at the cost of his property, and the determination is that “the Holy One, blessed be He, will settle accounts with him,” but no one else has the right to force him. The text notes that Binyan Tziyon expands the principle toward “all prohibitions between one person and another,” and presents this as a direct continuation of understanding Choshen Mishpat as a structure of rights that defines the limits of coercion and intervention by the religious court.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, let’s begin. We’re dealing with the relationship between study and halakhic ruling, and in the previous lecture, which was the first in the series, I tried a bit to define the relationship between Torah and Jewish law, aggadic literature, the word of God, the will of God. I spoke about the purpose of halakhic study—that even though halakhic study is the focus of Torah study, study is not a means of knowing what to do; rather, it has intrinsic value. I brought the examples of the wayward and rebellious son and the condemned city. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter brings this to show that “study it and receive reward” is the principle learned from the passage of the wayward and rebellious son. Meaning, you study the passage of the wayward and rebellious son, which is a halakhic passage—that is, in the end it has conclusions that would obligate action in practice—but in reality it is never implemented. And apparently it never will be implemented in the future either, as the Talmud says: it never was and never will be. So why study it? If study were only a means of knowing what to do, then there would be no need to study it. But no, we study it because it is halakhic study. Halakhic study ends in a practical conclusion, but that doesn’t mean the study is merely a means of knowing what to do. Rather, halakhic study is essential in itself; that is the essence of Torah. Torah is instruction, right—that was the first Rashi we saw. I brought proof for this from women’s obligation in the blessing over Torah, even though they are exempt from the commandment of Torah study. The Magen Avraham and the Mishnah Berurah say that they are obligated to learn the laws relevant to them. Studying in order to know what to do is an obligation imposed on them as well, but that still does not contradict the fact that they are exempt from the commandment of Torah study. So that means that studying in order to know what to do is not Torah study. Someone can be obligated in that and still be exempt from the commandment of Torah study. Maybe we can summarize this—and before I move on to the next stage, we can summarize it through Rashi’s words at the beginning of Parashat Bechukotai. I’ll share it for a moment. The Torah there says: “If you walk in My statutes, and keep My commandments, and do them.” So there are three things here: “walk in My statutes,” “keep My commandments,” and “do them.” Now, seemingly, those are just three different descriptions of the same thing. “Walk in My statutes” means to do the commandments. “Keep My commandments” also means to do the commandments. “And do them” also means to do the commandments. So in total it says the same thing three times in three different formulations. So Rashi says there as follows: “If you walk in My statutes”—could this mean fulfillment of the commandments? When it says “and keep My commandments,” fulfillment of the commandments is already stated. So how do I understand “if you walk in My statutes”? That you should labor in Torah. So in effect, “keep My commandments” is fulfillment of the commandments, and “walk in My statutes” is laboring in Torah. Then what is still left? Rashi says: “And keep My commandments”—labor in Torah in order to observe and fulfill, as it says, “And you shall learn them and observe to do them.” I have some suspicion that there is a textual issue in Rashi here, because he explains “keep My commandments” twice. Ah—there, good. Siftei Chachamim says exactly that. I saw there was a note from Siftei Chachamim, and he really points it out. He says: “This is the correct reading: when it says ‘and do them,’ fulfillment of the commandments is already stated,” and not “when it says ‘keep My commandments.’” Why? Because “keep My commandments” is what Rashi explains here. Okay? So what’s happening here, really? It means like this: “and do them” is fulfillment of the commandments. “If you walk in My statutes”—that you should labor in Torah—that’s Torah study. And “keep My commandments” means: labor in Torah in order to observe and fulfill. Now why are these three different things? There is doing the commandments, there is studying Torah, and there is studying in order to fulfill, in order to do. At least one of those three seems redundant. But no, none of them is redundant. Why? There is one value, which is fulfillment of the commandments. There is a second thing, which is studying in order to know how to fulfill the commandments, which is really just preparation for a commandment. And the third thing is “if you walk in My statutes”—that you should labor in Torah—which is the value of study in itself, not as a means of knowing what to do, even though again, I’m speaking here about studying Jewish law, not other subjects. But even the study of Jewish law is not a means of knowing what to do; it is an intrinsic value, a value in itself, alongside being an instrument for another value. So that more or less summarizes what we saw last time, and now I want to move on to the next chapter, or the next part. I want to speak a bit about the relationship between Torah and Jewish law, but not in the sense of the non-halakhic parts of Torah versus the halakhic parts. Rather, within Jewish law itself there is a dimension of Torah and a dimension of Jewish law. I want to sharpen that a bit, and I’m going to do it through a discussion of the meaning of Choshen Mishpat—right, “law,” the law of the Torah, if you like. Basically, the starting point for this matter is that you can look at Jewish law and divide it into different categories. Now there are different divisions—for example, Maimonides divided it in a certain way, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi with the six orders of the Mishnah and the tractates in each order also divided it in a certain way. The last division, or the most accepted one, is the division of the Tur, which continues into the Shulchan Arukh and Arukh HaShulchan and everybody else, all the commentaries on the Shulchan Arukh—which is basically a division into four sections. The division of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, and Maimonides’ division to a large extent, are divisions by content. Meaning, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi divided it by Zera’im, Mo’ed, Nashim—each content area is an order, and the order is divided into different tractates within it. Maimonides already divided it into fourteen books, where each book groups together several collections of laws, but it still seems that the division is a division of contents, where there are more general subjects that branch into more specific subjects, and so on. The Tur’s division is fundamentally different from the earlier divisions. The Tur did something really revolutionary in his division, because he divides the halakhic world into four parts. The halakhic world he speaks about is really only the laws that apply nowadays, but at least those laws he divides into four parts, and those four parts are basically two that are four. Orach Chayim deals with our daily conduct, Even HaEzer with personal status, Choshen Mishpat is the legal sphere, and Yoreh De’ah is prohibition and permissibility. Now those categories I just mentioned—forbidden and permitted, daily life, the legal aspect—notice, that is not a subject division. It is not determined by content or by topics. It is a categorical division. Meaning each of those four headings is a category, not a subject. There is here a category of legal laws. Now under it there are various topics, but the heading itself is not a topic. Suppose someone doesn’t understand the meaning of what legal laws are—he won’t know what to look for in Choshen Mishpat. In Maimonides there is no problem knowing what to look for. You want to know what belongs to Orach Chayim—sorry, to Zera’im—I don’t know, commandments dependent on the Land, you go to the book of Zera’im. You want vows and oaths and things like that, Hafla’ah, laws connected to speech and so on, damages, acquisition, and the like—so it’s very easy to find your way around or search for what you want. Why? Because the division is by content. And if I know what I’m looking for, I go to the book dealing with that content and leaf through it until I find it. In Choshen Mishpat—no, sorry—in the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh, the headings, the four main headings, are not content headings. They are categorical headings. This is prohibition and permissibility, this is personal status, this is law, monetary law and legal matters, and this is daily life. So it is not a content division, it is a categorical division. Now this division—this division itself is divided into a sub-division, two sub-categories. Here you have the four parts of the Shulchan Arukh divided into two sub-categories. One category is what’s called “rabbinics”—Orach Chayim and Yoreh De’ah—and the second category is “judicial law”—Choshen Mishpat and Even HaEzer. Two sections are judicial law and two sections are rabbinics. And again, over each pair of sections sits a category. Right, “rabbinics” and “judicial law” is not a subject division at all; it is a clearly categorical division, where those two broad categories are divided into four more detailed categories, and within each such category there is a collection of legal compilations that are already topic-based. There it’s no longer a categorical division but a division by subject. So there is subject division in both the Shulchan Arukh and the Tur, but above the subjects there also sits a categorical division. And that is a very great innovation of the Tur. So I want to try a bit to understand what this division of the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh really means, what stands behind it—what are these categories, really?

[Speaker B] Could it be that these categories too—that this division forces a certain mode of study on us, or that the mode of study forces the categories? I didn’t understand the connection to mode of study. I mean, if you divide it like that, you’re basically creating a certain kind of study, a certain kind of conceptual framework in the study itself.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? I don’t see why. What, do you have to study Choshen Mishpat differently than Even HaEzer?

[Speaker B] No, just that the division itself creates a different kind of perspective on what you’re learning. I don’t have enough knowledge to describe it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It belongs to a different category—that much you said; that’s the categorical division, by definition. But I don’t see why that means you have to study it differently.

[Speaker B] The question is whether it stems from a certain kind of study, from a certain method of study.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t think there’s supposed to be a difference in the method of study between these sections.

[Speaker B] Right, I was trying to connect it to this topic of study and halakhic ruling, sort of.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, we’ll still get to how it’s connected; the connection is more indirect, which is what I’m talking about. Maybe. But I want to sharpen the difference between the various categories a bit. Look, the difference between, say, Orach Chayim and Yoreh De’ah is pretty understandable. This is prohibition and permissibility—not tied specifically to certain times or to daily life, but to laws that concern what is forbidden and permitted. Orach Chayim—right, festivals, morning prayer, what we are obligated to do in our daily life. Choshen Mishpat and Even HaEzer are the legal sections of Jewish law. Even HaEzer is personal status, and Choshen Mishpat is the legal part—monetary law, or the legal part of Jewish law. It’s not only monetary law; also laws of the religious court, laws of testimony, and the like, or laws of punishment—those too, insofar as they exist, are in Choshen Mishpat, because punishment doesn’t really apply nowadays. In any event, it is the legal sphere that is not personal status, so people generally tend to connect it with monetary law. Now when I ask myself what exactly is the common denominator of all the laws included in Choshen Mishpat—what do they have in common? Why did the Tur choose to put all of these under the heading Choshen Mishpat? The first answer that comes to mind, I think, is that basically these are monetary laws between one person and another. Every monetary obligation between one person and another—that’s Choshen Mishpat. Leave aside for the moment laws of claim and counterclaim, laws of evidence, testimony, and judges, which may be the framework within which law operates. Let’s talk about the actual content in Choshen Mishpat—loans, custodians, damages, contracts, all kinds of things like that, agency, partnership, and so on. So what do all these things have in common? Why do they all seem to the Tur to belong to the same category, which he calls Choshen Mishpat? Seemingly, because it’s monetary law between one person and another. But that simply cannot work. That cannot be the definition. Why? Because there are also laws that are monetary law between one person and another, but they do not appear in Choshen Mishpat; they appear in Yoreh De’ah. The same is true of the laws of interest. That too is monetary law between one person and another, but it does not appear in Choshen Mishpat; it appears in Yoreh De’ah. So the definition of monetary law between one person and another is apparently not the precise definition of Choshen Mishpat. It is probably related—hard to ignore the correlation—but it is not an exhaustive definition. It is not the final definition of what Choshen Mishpat really is. In order to understand…

[Speaker D] Seemingly, Rabbi. Yes. Seemingly in charity and interest it’s different, because charity and interest are something that is my prohibition, not something like a loan between two people.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean?

[Speaker D] No, it’s not like a loan, where a loan is something that two people are involved in, and they claim against one another… A gift, a gift. They claim against each other.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A gift is in Choshen Mishpat.

[Speaker D] Right, that’s a claim, that’s a claim.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A claim? A gift is a claim? Why?

[Speaker D] What are the laws of gifts? There’s some issue there—someone didn’t agree, gave a gift and then retracted, there was some story there.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There can also be issues in charity. Someone doesn’t want to give charity even though he’s obligated. Okay. Fine, I… what you’re saying is related; I just want to sharpen it more. So in order to understand this a bit better, I’ll formulate it differently, or I’ll present it through a certain paradox that exists in Choshen Mishpat. On the one hand, it turns out that Choshen Mishpat contains the most rigid and most severe laws there are, and on the other hand, it turns out these are the most flexible laws there are. Right—Adino HaEtzni, King David, who made himself gentle like a worm, but when he went out to battle he was hard as cedar. So that’s Adino HaEtzni. Choshen Mishpat too is a kind of Adino HaEtzni. It has the most flexible side imaginable and at the same time also the most rigid side imaginable. I’ll start with the rigid side. In the Talmud, in the chapter HaKones in tractate Bava Kamma, the Talmud discusses whether a person may save himself through another person’s property. There is an aggadic passage there that King David sent the mighty warriors to bring him water—right, but “water” means Torah; they were really going to ask a halakhic question to the Sanhedrin. What happened there? The Talmud discusses a situation where there were barley stacks and the Philistines were hiding behind the barley, and the question was whether it was permitted to burn the barley in order to fight the Philistines. So King David sends his warriors to ask the Sanhedrin this question: may a person save himself through another person’s property? Can you destroy or damage someone else’s property in order to save yourself? So the Talmud says, they sent back to him—and I’m quoting to you now, Bava Kamma 60b: “Rav Huna said: these were stacks of barley belonging to Jews, and the Philistines were hiding in them, and he asked: what is the law regarding saving oneself through another person’s property?” That’s how David asked the Sanhedrin. “They sent back to him: It is forbidden to save oneself through another person’s property, but you are a king, and a king may breach a path for himself, and no one protests.” Okay? So basically the claim is that it is forbidden to save oneself through another person’s property, but a king is permitted, because a king can declare property ownerless and the like, so a king can. But in simple terms, a private individual cannot save himself through another person’s property. Now notice what is written here. What is written here is that if someone threatens me with a gun and says to me: if you don’t, I don’t know, burn someone’s stack, I’ll kill you—am I allowed to burn someone’s stack so that he won’t kill me, in order to save myself? The answer is no, it’s forbidden. Or if he is hiding behind someone’s stack and aiming a gun at me, and the only way for me to deal with him is to burn the stack—it is forbidden for me. I have to die. There is a rule here of be killed rather than transgress theft. That is basically what is written here. Now this is astonishing. The medieval authorities, the Rashba and Tosafot and the others there, are very astonished by this. We know there are three cardinal sins: idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and murder. We never found anywhere that theft is one of the severe transgressions for which one must be killed rather than transgress. So in fact Tosafot there explains the question differently: “What is the law regarding saving oneself through another person’s property?”—the question was whether he must pay after he saved himself because of danger to life. The question was not whether I may burn the stack in order to save myself; obviously that is permitted. The only question is whether, after I burned the stack, I have to pay the owner of the stack, or whether I am exempt. So the question is only a monetary-law question, but obviously theft is overridden by danger to life. I’m allowed to burn the stack; that’s not the question. Theft—or damage, in this case; not theft, but damage—is overridden by danger to life. The only question is whether one has to pay. That’s how Tosafot explains it. But Rashi, at the end of the page there, explains it in the plain sense: “and to save him, so that they should not burn it, since it is forbidden to save oneself through another person’s property.” Meaning, he explains that the Talmud is discussing a halakhic question in the laws of causing damage—not in the laws of compensation for damages, but in the laws of causing damage. Am I allowed to burn the stack in order to save myself? Two possibilities—permitted or forbidden—and the Sanhedrin’s practical answer was that it is forbidden. Forbidden. Only a king has a special rule; a king is permitted because he can declare property ownerless and so on, but an ordinary person is forbidden to do this. Now these words are very astonishing, as the medieval authorities already note. This is the plain meaning of the Talmud, yes, that is clear. The plain meaning of the Talmud is that “what is the law regarding saving oneself through another person’s property” does not mean “must he pay?” That’s strained, as Tosafot says, as most of the medieval authorities say. It is clearly strained in the language of the Talmud. But on the other hand, as they say in the yeshivot: if you have to stretch either the language or the reasoning, better to stretch the language than the reasoning. And the reasoning behind reading the Talmud according to Rashi is very hard to accept. Why on earth should one be killed rather than violate the prohibition of theft? It’s not one of the three cardinal sins. So there is some difficulty here. In fact—I heard this once in the name of Rabbi Lichtenstein—he said that this Rashi is a mistaken gloss of a student. There cannot be such a Rashi; it is impossible that there should be such a thing as be killed rather than transgress theft. I think that is simply not true. Rashi writes it, and it can even be justified, and I can bring proofs for it from a passage in Ketubot as well, but I won’t get into that here. Basically the question is how we understand Rashi’s view. But I’ll say more than that. Not only is this Rashi’s view; some of the medieval authorities who disagree with Rashi don’t really disagree with him in a fundamental way. Look, for example, at what the Rashba writes. In a responsum of the Rashba, part 4, he says as follows: “What I wrote seems to me obvious, and I am close to saying that I should not even have needed to write it, because it is so obvious—that nothing stands in the way of danger to life except those three listed,” only the three cardinal sins. “Imagine for yourself: someone was in the desert and dying of thirst and found his fellow’s flask of water—should he die and not drink? Even on condition that he will pay? And how can he be called a thief, when the owners are obligated to give it to him free of charge and keep him alive—so much so that Ben Petora taught in tractate Bava Metzia: two were walking on the road and one of them had a flask of water; if both drink, both die, but if one drinks, he reaches civilization. Better that both drink and die than that one should see the death of the other.” And Rabbi Akiva only disagreed there because the verse says, “and your brother shall live with you”—your life takes precedence over your fellow’s life. But apart from a case of preserving my own life—meaning, if giving up the water would not cost me my life, but it’s just that the water is mine and I don’t feel like giving it to you—I am obligated to give. Rabbi Akiva also agrees to that. Rabbi Akiva only disagrees with Ben Petora where if I give you the water, I die; there, your life takes precedence over your fellow’s life. But if the water is simply mine and I want to keep it for myself and not give it to you—you can’t say I may steal it? Of course not. I am obligated to give the water to someone else. So he says: you see from here that if you yourself are obligated to give me the water, how can it be said that when I take the water from you I am considered a thief? Now this argument in itself is puzzling. Because the fact that you have to give me the water—and this comes close to our topic—the fact that you have to give me the water does not mean that I am allowed to take it, that there is no prohibition of theft here. The water does not belong to me. There is an obligation on you—like charity, “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood.” You have an obligation to save me and give me your water. But that is your obligation. I have no right. I cannot take that water by force just because you are obligated to give it. Just as, for example, a poor person comes to me and asks for charity. I don’t want to give him charity, even though let’s say this is a situation in which I really am obligated by law to give him. I don’t want to give. Can he take it from me by force? If he takes it from me by force, he is a thief. He cannot take it by force. And the fact that I am obligated to give him money does not mean that the money is his, or that if he takes the money he is not a thief. There is an obligation on me to give him the money. If I don’t give him the money, I have committed a transgression; the Holy One, blessed be He, will settle accounts with me. But you cannot take my money. The same thing here. The Rashba says: since he was obligated to give me the water, or to let his barley be burned in order to save me, therefore obviously I too am allowed to burn his barley. But that’s not correct. Since he is obligated to let his barley be burned—but I have no right to his barley. So the Rashba’s argument is puzzling. But what is he saying? Let’s ignore that difficulty for a moment. What is he saying? Basically, in such a situation there is no prohibition of theft here. If you take that barley and burn it in order to save yourself, there is no prohibition of theft here, because he himself should have given you his barley to sacrifice for the sake of saving your life. Why does he need to get to that point? Because he argues that if there were a prohibition of theft here, then apparently it would be forbidden to do it. Otherwise why do you need to reach the conclusion that there is no prohibition of theft? Especially since that conclusion is itself puzzling, as I said before. The simpler conclusion would be: there is a prohibition of theft here, but it is overridden by danger to life. And the Rashba says no, this is not considered theft, because he is obligated to give me the money or the barley himself. Why does he need that strained conclusion, that there is no prohibition of theft here? Because he apparently understands that if there were a prohibition of theft here, then indeed it would be forbidden. Why? This is danger to life. Nothing stands in the way of danger to life except the three cardinal sins. So why not here? So one can infer from the Rashba himself that in principle he probably agrees with Rashi’s position, not with Tosafot’s. If there were a prohibition of theft here, the Rashba too might say not to take it. He says there is no prohibition of theft here for a certain reason that I don’t fully understand. So that is what he claims. There are other medieval authorities who say this too; I won’t go through all the sources now. So that means that Rashi’s position is not quite as isolated as it seems. Bottom line, it is an isolated view; bottom line, all the medieval authorities agree that one may burn it—the question is whether one must pay or not. But in their reasoning you can see that some of them at least join Rashi: if there were a prohibition of theft here, then it would be forbidden. They claim there is no prohibition of theft here. They disagree with him on the final practical ruling, but from the standpoint of the underlying conception—whether the prohibition of theft is overridden by danger to life—there are other medieval authorities who are in Rashi’s camp. Okay? That is what seems to emerge from the passage here. Now the question…

[Speaker F] But sorry, the Rashba brought specifically the case of Ben Petora, if I’m not…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] mistaken—what’s his name—

[Speaker F] which was a case of danger to life there.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s talking about danger to life. What do you mean?

[Speaker F] No, the story of the flask of water that he’s obligated to share—that’s specifically in a case of danger to life maybe. Maybe what? Maybe specifically when it comes to danger to life, maybe he says that the obligation to give creates the possibility for the other person to take from him, and that this isn’t considered theft. Maybe in a situation of danger to life there is this hierarchy.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Danger to life is danger to life.

[Speaker F] What? Are you trying to answer my difficulty on the Rashba? I didn’t understand. Yes, yes. To say—no, that the Rashba is not proving in general that if it were some other subject, like charity—for example, with charity, it’s true that just because I’m obligated to give charity, that doesn’t mean the poor person can seize it from me by force. But when it comes to danger to life, since I really am obligated to share, then the other person does not violate any prohibition if he takes it from me by force. Because I think maybe there is a distinction that has to be made between a classic obligation and an obligation that involves danger to life.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What distinction? You can say there is a prohibition of theft here, but because it’s danger to life, we permit the prohibition of theft. But why say there is no prohibition of theft here? That’s exactly the difference. I’m not arguing with the Rashba over the fact that he permits it; Tosafot permits it too, everybody permits it. That’s fine, because they say the prohibition of theft is overridden by danger to life. But the Rashba argues that there is no prohibition of theft here, not that it is overridden. Now why is there none here? So what if I am obligated to give? I’m also obligated in charity.

[Speaker F] Why didn’t he bring… okay… no, yes, I would ask why the Sages didn’t bring a proof from charity, but apparently there are no Talmudic passages saying the same thing regarding charity.

[Speaker H] You can connect

[Speaker G] the two

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] into one.

[Speaker F] What? I wasn’t the one speaking, even though it was in French, it wasn’t me speaking.

[Speaker C] But actually from the Rashba at the beginning it sounds like he argues that it can’t be that there’s anything besides the three things, right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] His wording at the beginning seems…

[Speaker C] When he starts, it really seems that he argues that theft can’t possibly stand in the way of…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s not willing to accept anything except the three cardinal sins.

[Speaker C] Right. According to what he says, theft too—just that here specifically it isn’t theft.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but the point… but I think that what can reconcile both of them is this contradiction.

[Speaker C] Or that robbery just can’t exist in this case, so he says robbery can’t exist.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. Meaning, his claim is apparently that essentially, whenever there’s a problem like this, there won’t be any prohibition of robbery here. So automatically the prohibition of robbery is not one of the three cardinal sins. But hypothetically, on the conceptual level, on the level of—

[Speaker C] On the conceptual level he also agreed that… on the conceptual level he also agreed that it could be beyond the three things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because otherwise it’s hard to reconcile his two points. Right. So I want to understand a bit what really stands behind this approach, the approach that says I need to… that there is “be killed rather than transgress” with respect to robbery. So the claim is basically the following. In the legal world it’s common to talk about the Hohfeld table. The Hohfeld table basically says that corresponding to every duty I have toward you, there stands a right that you have with respect to me. Say, if I caused you financial damage, then you have a right to receive compensation from me; automatically I have a duty to give you that compensation, to compensate you. If I robbed you, same thing. If I borrowed, you have a right to get the money back from me, and therefore I have a duty to repay the loan. There’s always a right corresponding to a duty, and a duty corresponding to a right. That’s true even vis-à-vis the public, say. There is an obligation toward… always duty opposite right. Your right can be toward a specific person or toward the public, it doesn’t matter. But whenever there is a duty on one side, there is a corresponding right on the other side. That’s the accepted view in the legal world. In the halakhic world, many people commonly say—I’ve read this in many places—that there is no discourse of rights, only a discourse of duties. Meaning, in the halakhic world, when I have to give you something, it’s not because you have a right to receive it, but because the Holy One, blessed be He, obligates me and I have a duty to do it. On that view, I’m basically standing before the Holy One, blessed be He, and not before the person in front of me. Suppose I give you charity—then I do it because the Holy One, blessed be He, obligates me, not because you have a right to receive charity from me. That’s the claim. That claim is wrong. In Jewish law there definitely is a discourse of rights, and that discourse is called Choshen Mishpat. And that is the definition of Choshen Mishpat. I asked earlier what the definition of Choshen Mishpat is. Choshen Mishpat is the collection of all the laws whose basis is the right of one person against another person, another company, whatever. The duty begins—the duty I have toward you begins—from a right you have with respect to me. That’s the claim. Let’s take a look for a moment, let’s go back to Choshen Mishpat. I asked what all the laws connected to Choshen Mishpat have in common. Now I’m proposing a suggestion. It’s not just interpersonal duties, monetary duties between one person and another, but monetary duties toward another that are grounded in a right the other person has over me. Now I asked: if so, why are charity and interest found in Yoreh De’ah and not in Choshen Mishpat? Simple answer. Because charity and interest are indeed monetary duties I owe another person, but they do not begin from a right the other person has with respect to me. So, for example, with charity, unlike a lender for instance—if I don’t repay him the loan, he takes me to religious court, sues me. If I caused damage and don’t pay, they take me to religious court. They bring me to court and obligate me to pay. If I robbed, yes, anything I obligated myself to in a contract, it doesn’t matter, a guardian who didn’t guard properly, and so on. In all those cases, if you don’t pay, he takes you to religious court, because I have a right to receive. In charity and interest, I have a duty to give you the money—you’re poor, or fixed interest that is recoverable in court—I have a duty to give you the money, but you do not have a right to receive it. The practical difference is that if I don’t pay you charity, don’t give you charity, you can’t go to religious court and sue me, because you have no right; you have no standing. The court will coerce me under the law of coercion to perform commandments, so it will force me to fulfill my duty, but it won’t be acting here to realize your rights, because you have no right to receive. I’ve spoken about this more than once regarding various demonstrations by disabled people in the past, where they wanted their rights. They have no rights. What’s decided to be given to them is charity. You have no right; you can’t sue for it. This whole discourse that “it’s owed to you”—nothing is owed to you. Now of course it’s proper to make sure people live in a reasonable way and not leave people in the street and without the ability to live. Of course that’s an obligation imposed on society and on each of us, but it’s not their right. They can’t claim it; they can ask for it. That’s a very big difference. Same thing with interest. With fixed interest, the rule is that it is recoverable through the judges. Fixed interest means Torah-level interest, stipulated in advance: I borrow such-and-such and pay it back with such-and-such interest. When the interest is stipulated in advance, that is Torah-level interest. Otherwise it is a trace of interest or rabbinic interest. Fixed interest is recovered by the judges—that’s the rule. Now apparently that means that interest specifically is in fact your right, because the religious court forces me to return the interest to you, which means you can sue me for the interest back. So listen to a story. Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky tells a story—he was the head of the London religious court. There is a pamphlet on monetary law—actually I don’t remember whether it’s his or his father-in-law Rabbi Yerushalimsky’s—but it’s a story he tells. He says that one day a Jew from the London community comes to him and says, listen, I was in religious court. I borrowed money and he lent it to me with interest, the lender. I paid him back the money with the interest, and I sued him in religious court because fixed interest is recoverable by the judges. Now the court ruled that they do not force him to return the interest, because this is not fixed interest. So I asked them to give me their reasoning—write for me what grounds they judged me by, yes? Give me the reasoning for the judgment. Why? Because then I can go and appeal before Rabbi Abramsky, who was head of the supreme religious court of London, over the local courts. Okay. So they were unwilling to write their reasoning for him. So he comes to Rabbi Abramsky and says, “You murdered and also inherited”—not only are they not obligating him to return the interest to me, they’re also unwilling to write the reasoning. So Rabbi Abramsky gave him a third slap in the face. He told him: they are right on both counts. Why? So he told him, look: fixed interest is recovered by the judges, but this is Yoreh De’ah—in my terminology, Yoreh De’ah, not Choshen Mishpat. What does that mean? When I force the lender to return the interest to the borrower, I do it under the law of coercion to perform the commandment. Since you are obligated to return the interest to him, if you don’t do it I will force you, just as I force you to build a sukkah. Part of the religious court’s role is also to coerce observance of commandments, so I will force him to return the interest to you. When you come to religious court and say, so-and-so took interest from me and I want it back, your status in court is the status of a witness, not a litigant. You are not the plaintiff. The money is not owed to you. He is obligated to give it to you, but the money is not yours by right. Why will we take the money out of him? By coercion to perform the commandment. And that is not in order to realize your rights—you have no rights. You agreed with him, you gave him the interest willingly. There’s no robbery here, there’s nothing. In the chapter “What Is Interest?” it appears that it is robbery; never mind, that passage is problematic. But simply speaking, it’s not robbery, and therefore in religious court you serve here in the role of a witness: you are simply testifying that he took interest from you. You are not the plaintiff.

[Speaker D] So why didn’t they actually force him?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because they thought it wasn’t fixed interest. Okay. But he argues: then give me the reasoning, because I want to appeal; I think it is fixed interest. Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky says to him—without getting into the question whether it really was fixed interest or not, that’s a halakhic question—but why didn’t they give him the reasoning? Because they are not obligated to give him reasoning. Reasoning is given to a litigant. Meaning, if I ruled against you and in your opinion your rights were violated, you can ask me for reasoning in order to appeal. But here your rights were not violated—you are not the litigant, you are not the plaintiff, you are a witness. A witness cannot ask the religious court to write why they ruled one way or another. And therefore they were right not to give you the reasoning, because you are not a litigant. That shows us that just like charity, so too interest actually belongs in Yoreh De’ah and not in Choshen Mishpat. Even if the religious court is involved here, it is involved under the law of coercion to perform commandments. This is not a claim to which the court is responding. In claims under Choshen Mishpat, the court acts as the plaintiff’s agent. It is essentially saying: the plaintiff’s rights have been violated; I will see to it that they are restored to him, that is, that they are no longer violated. I am protecting the plaintiff’s rights. In interest and charity—charity too is coercible—the coercion in interest and charity is not intended to protect anyone’s rights, but to obligate the person to fulfill his duties. Like building a sukkah or putting on tefillin or whatever. If a person doesn’t do it, then the religious court coerces him. Meaning, all the court’s involvement there is not Choshen Mishpat-type involvement; it is Yoreh De’ah involvement, coercion to perform commandments. And therefore both interest and charity do not belong to Choshen Mishpat but to Yoreh De’ah. What is the idea behind this? That basically the duties to return fixed interest or to give charity to a poor person are duties imposed on me, but this does not begin from rights you have with respect to me. In contrast to all the topics that appear in Choshen Mishpat, where my duty to pay you is grounded in your right to receive from me. And automatically in Choshen Mishpat, if I don’t pay, don’t fulfill my duty, you can take me to religious court and sue me. But in Yoreh De’ah, if I don’t fulfill my duty, you can’t do anything. You can complain to the religious court so that they coerce me to fulfill my commandment, but you can’t sue me. You have no standing as a plaintiff because you have no right; your rights were not violated. This reminds me of a story in Vayikra Rabbah. There was a story there about Alexander of Macedon who came to Africa. He heard there was some very wise king there. He went to see how the king judged his people. So a case came before him—this is how the midrash tells it—a case of two people, one of whom says, look, I sold a field or courtyard, I don’t remember exactly what, to the other fellow, the other litigant. Now, excuse me, he sold me a field. So the buyer came and argued as follows: he sold me the field. I dug in that field and found a treasure of gold, gold coins. I want to return it to him, because I didn’t buy that—I bought the field. But he’s not willing to take it from me. I want to return the coins to him and he’s not willing to take them. So the other one says—and the African king asks the other one: why aren’t you willing to take it from him? Because I sold him the field and everything in it. If it turns out there was a treasure there, then he gained from it. It’s his, not mine. And so each one wants to give the treasure to the other. So what did the African king do? He said: do you have a son? Yes. Do you have a daughter? Yes. Let them get married, and the two of them will receive the treasure. So this is like the story of Yonatan ben Uzziel—you know, I’m a Litvak. So this midrash is wonderful for Hasidim, but I ask the question: fine, but what really is the law? Leave me now with the son and daughter and “they lived happily ever after.” Those are children’s stories. I’m asking you: what is the law in such a case? Who is right? There is no discussion of this anywhere. They don’t discuss it. Why not? It’s an interesting halakhic question. Who is right? The answer is: there’s perhaps a little bit about coins found inside a wall in “These Are Found Items,” okay, never mind. In this specific discussion there is no halakhic treatment. Why not? Simply because neither party is violating the other’s rights. In the dispute here, no one comes to religious court and says: protect my rights, my rights were violated. On the contrary—I say, I don’t want to violate his rights; I want to pay him. And he says, leave it, I have no rights here, what do you want from me? So if neither of you is claiming that his rights were violated, then stop bothering us. Marry off the children and leave me alone. The point is that the job of the religious court is to protect someone’s rights when those rights have been violated. But if there is no discussion here of someone whose rights were violated, then what exactly is the case? What? Leave me alone, draw lots, do whatever you want. It’s not my business. I do not intervene where no one’s rights have been violated. You can ask such a question in “These Are Found Items”; you can ask a rabbi’s question: in your view, does this money belong to the seller or to the buyer? Excellent, asking a rabbi is perfectly fine. You can’t bring it to religious court, because the religious court is supposed to protect violated rights, and there are no violated rights here. This is a question of prohibition and permission; it is a question in Yoreh De’ah, not in Choshen Mishpat.

[Speaker D] Are there other commandments involving two people where this would be the situation, besides the commandments of charity and interest?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, I don’t remember, but maybe there are. Why does it matter?

[Speaker I] Maybe a father’s obligations to his son and the obligation of honoring parents?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Honoring parents is from their money and not yours, according to Jewish law. There’s an opinion in the Talmud that it’s from your money, so maybe that too would in fact belong here. But in practice, the halakhic decisors rule that it’s only from their money. There’s the well-known story about Rabbi Chaim—a yeshiva student came to him and said, we have vacation, my parents want me to come home, but traveling by train is expensive, and in the end I’m not obligated to honor them from my own money, only from theirs. Rabbi Chaim said to him, you’re right—go by foot. That’s the famous story around this issue. But yes, according to that opinion, which is not accepted in practice, maybe that too would belong here, and so on. Anyway, where did these rights the rabbi is talking about suddenly come from?

[Speaker J] But Rabbi, where did these rights you’re talking about suddenly come from? From where? Who granted a person any right at all? Where did it spring from? From the Torah. So the Torah is obligation, it’s commandment. If there weren’t the Torah’s commanded obligations, then there would be no obligation and no right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You have a right, and the other person has a duty corresponding to it.

[Speaker J] But that right—the reason I’m obligated to relate to this new invention called a right is because the Torah commands me as an obligation. So the source is duty, not right. I don’t understand. If the Torah didn’t tell me that I must respect rights, then no one could say “I have a right,” because where did you get that right from? Why should you have a right?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not true. Once the other person has a right, you have a duty to respect it. No further statement is needed.

[Speaker J] Someone is asking where this right sprang from.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Just a moment, one second, I’m getting exactly there. One more second.

[Speaker G] Rabbi, why is there no discourse of rights here? If one says the treasure is his and the other claims the treasure is his, then there’s a question for the religious court, not just for a rabbi.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The other’s, not his.

[Speaker G] Yes, yes, but in the case where both say it’s theirs.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, then fine, that’s a question for the religious court. Okay, that is indeed a question for the religious court. I’m saying: or if I simply want to know what the law is, even if we have no dispute, we just want to know what the law is, then you can ask a rabbi’s question. That’s fine in property law—who acquired it, contract law, whatever. But you can’t conduct a court proceeding in religious court. You can’t come as plaintiff and defendant to court. If your rights weren’t violated, you have nothing to look for there. Now I remember another story. There was once—I was once in Yeruham—and there was some Jew there, yes, an immigrant from Russia, who had apartments; he rented apartments to people. After I left Yeruham and moved to Petah Tikva, a former student of mine from Yeruham called me; he had rented an apartment from that man, from this Yeruham fellow, and there was some dispute between them. The question was whether he owed him or didn’t owe him; there was some dispute there. So he said that he and the landlord had agreed that whatever I said would be fine. Meaning, that he would ask me; that landlord also knew me. So I told him, look, this is not a Torah court case. In a Torah court case, both of you have to come, you have to examine the evidence and everything. You’re asking me what the law is in such a situation? I can tell you what I think the law is. In this case I told my student that I thought he was right; from what he was saying, it seemed to me that he was right. If those are the facts—I don’t know, because the other side wasn’t there in the conversation. So he went to the landlord and said, here, he said I’m right. The fellow immediately calls me and says, wait, you didn’t hear me—how can you rule without hearing me? So I tried to explain—I don’t know to what extent he understood it—I tried to explain to him that I had not issued a judicial ruling. I wasn’t sitting there as a judge; I was sitting there as a rabbi. And therefore he doesn’t have to listen to what I said. Someone comes to me with a question: given such-and-such a question, and these are the facts, what is the law? I can tell him: if those are the facts, then that is the law. A judge is not a halakhic instructor. A judge determines what is to be done. Therefore the first thing a judge has to do is clarify the facts. It’s not enough for one guy to tell me the facts. Maybe he’s lying, maybe he’s mistaken. You have to hear the other side, look for evidence, decide what the facts are, and then decide what to do. But when you ask a rabbi’s question, all that means is to tell you: assuming that this is the situation, that is what Jewish law says. The other side is not obligated to anything. I’m not a judge whose words both parties are obligated to carry out. That was an answer, so to speak, in Yoreh De’ah. It was a halakhic answer, not a religious court verdict. Okay? So that’s exactly the same idea we saw in charity and interest, or in this story from Vayikra Rabbah. In short, what I want to say is that there is a discourse of rights in Jewish law. And the discourse of rights is what Jewish law calls Choshen Mishpat. Choshen Mishpat is the collection of laws that begin from a person’s right, and my duty toward him is grounded in the right he has over me. The laws that belong to Yoreh De’ah or other areas are duties imposed on me, even if they relate to someone else, but that other person does not have a right vis-à-vis me. Therefore it does not belong to Choshen Mishpat. That is basically what… in Choshen Mishpat.

[Speaker E] Firstborns and tithes, Rabbi—is there a matter of rights there? Again: firstborns and tithes with respect to a priest?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know. There is some room for discussion, yes—whether perhaps this is tribal property in terumah and priestly gifts; there is some room for discussion—

[Speaker E] discussion whether it is—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the tribe’s property. But simply speaking, that’s Yoreh De’ah. It’s not… in any case, the benefit of disposal is mine too. In any case, the claim is that this is what makes Choshen Mishpat distinctive. Let’s return for a moment to Rashi. I asked, according to Rashi, how can there be “be killed rather than transgress” with respect to robbery? After all, there are only three cardinal sins. It seems to me that the answer is also rooted in the same distinction I made here. And basically what Rashi is saying is this: the prohibition of robbery is overridden in the face of saving life. There is no prohibition of robbery. But I still cannot burn your barley. Not because of the prohibition of robbery, but because it is yours. And you have a right over that thing—you are the owner. I cannot do anything to your property, not because of the prohibition of robbery, but because it is yours. Here—this is the answer to the question asked here earlier—here there is your right, but the duty the Torah imposes on me does not exist, because the prohibition “do not rob” is overridden in the face of saving life. But since you have a right over this property, your right says that I am forbidden to take from you. That prohibition is not the prohibition of “do not rob,” but the reflection of your right. So all prohibitions imposed on me are overridden in the face of saving life except for the three cardinal sins, including the prohibition “do not rob”—that too is overridden in the face of saving life. It’s just that it’s still forbidden for me to take or damage your property, not because of the prohibition “do not rob”—that was overridden—but because the property is your property. In other contexts I called this “territorial considerations.” What does that mean? Every person has some kind of territory under his control, in his ownership. For example, his property is part of his territory. I am not allowed to enter another person’s territory, not because there is a prohibition on me—or not only because there is a prohibition on me—but first and foremost because it is his territory, and only he can make decisions about what happens in his territory. Therefore, even if I have no prohibitions on me at all, that’s irrelevant. I do not make decisions about his territory not because there are prohibitions on me, but because it’s not my territory; I cannot make decisions there.

[Speaker D] Territory overrides saving life?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. It overrides not because of its severity.

[Speaker D] Yes, yes, but what did we gain? So the Rabbi removed robbery and moved to territory. Territory is still strange—that saving life… it’s not connected to prohibition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The three cardinal sins are sins such that because of their severity, saving life is set aside before them. The prohibition of robbery is not because of its severity, not because it is severe; it is because of its character. You can’t make decisions—

[Speaker G] Meaning, this is not a halakhic consideration.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A meta-halakhic consideration. Yes. Let me sharpen that a bit more. Look. I had a friend—a friend in Bnei Brak, not a close friend, a friend in Bnei Brak—who was a joker. Once we were sitting around a table, and he saw by someone a book he was reading that he had been looking for a long time. He says, look, I have two options. Either to take the book from you and violate “do not rob,” or to leave the book with you and violate “do not covet.” Now since in any case I’m violating a prohibition, then at least let the book be with me. So I’ll rob it and that’s that. Now of course there’s a mistake there about “do not…” never mind; there are mistakes here in the definitions of the law, and he knew it very well—he was a Torah scholar. But let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that he was right. Would that really justify his taking the book? The answer is no. Why? Because that book is mine. Decisions about that book are entrusted to me alone. You cannot make decisions about something that belongs to me. Not because of the prohibition. The mandate to make decisions about my territory belongs only to me, only to the owner of the territory. That’s it. Take another example. When someone threatens me with a gun and says, look, either you give me a shekel or I kill you. Okay? Am I permitted to kill him first under the law of a pursuer? Apparently why not? Give him a shekel and he’ll leave you. Since when are you allowed to kill for a shekel? It seems very clear that I’m allowed to kill him under the law of a pursuer. Why? Because decisions about my shekel are mine alone. Now if I decide not to give you the shekel and because of that you’re going to kill me, then you have the status of a pursuer. I am not obligated to give you the shekel. The decision about the shekel is mine. Now you can say that on the halakhic level, a right to a shekel does not override lives. What, because of that are you allowed to kill a person? It’s not because of that. I kill him under the law of a pursuer. But why shouldn’t I just give him a shekel and get out of this? Because I’m not obligated to give him a shekel. Decisions about my shekel are mine alone. The proof of this is Zimri and Pinchas. The Talmud in Sanhedrin says that if Zimri had turned around and killed Pinchas, he would not be liable for it. Pinchas would have the status of a pursuer. Even though the Holy One, blessed be He, gave him His covenant of peace, and one who has relations with an Aramean woman may be struck by zealots—yes, Jewish law of course permits Pinchas, and even views what Pinchas did favorably—but still he has the status of a pursuer. So the Kli Chemda asks, in the name of the Rebbe of Gur—the Kli Chemda at the end of Parashat Balak brings it in the name of the Rebbe of Gur—a question: after all, a pursuer may not be killed if you can save yourself by injuring one of his limbs. And if you can save yourself without killing the pursuer, or save the pursued without killing the pursuer—say, shoot him in the leg—then you may not kill him. If you can save the pursued without killing the pursuer, there is no permission to kill the pursuer. The Rebbe of Gur says: I don’t understand. Zimri could have saved himself by killing himself, without killing Pinchas—he could just stop sinning. If he had stopped sinning, Pinchas would not have killed him. So where did the permission to kill Pinchas come from? So the Kli Chemda says: he is not obligated to stop sinning for him. He wants to sin. Now once you threaten to kill me if I sin, then you have the status of a pursuer and I may kill you. Notice how amazing this is. It means that my right to sin stands against his life—the life of a righteous man, Pinchas, not that of a wicked man threatening me with a gun. And I am allowed to kill Pinchas because of my right to sin. Now this is a sin—the Holy One, blessed be He, forbids it, He forbids it. But you cannot demand of me that I not sin. That’s my business with the Holy One, blessed be He. So if the right to sin allows me to kill the pursuer, then my right over money that really belongs to me, this shekel that really belongs to me—what sin is there in keeping that shekel? There all the more so I’m allowed to kill someone who threatens me. Even though I could have given him a shekel and saved myself. What do we see here? That the discussion of whether you can make decisions about something belonging to my territory is not conducted in terms of severity. It is not because of the severity of the transgression that it overrides saving life. Rather there is simply a categorical rule that says: what belongs to my territory, only I make decisions about it.

[Speaker J] The rule—

[Speaker E] To transgress it, Rabbi—what is the severity of it, that I’m violating this thing? I have a right, I have an obligation not to transgress; I have an obligation not to violate the other person’s right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But that—

[Speaker E] that obligation—what do we do with it? Why shouldn’t that obligation be overridden in the face of saving life?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because that—because the obligation can be overridden, but my right remains. And the right keeps continually generating obligations on you again. It won’t help to override those obligations, because you won’t override my right through your life-saving need. And as long as I have a right, you cannot enter here. It’s like—think of it as though there were a real wall here. You can’t enter, not because of the severity of the wall, but because the wall doesn’t let you enter. So here of course it’s a normative wall, not a physical wall, but still it’s like a wall.

[Speaker K] But what—what about the pursuer’s right to his life? I can’t hear. I asked: what about the pursuer’s right to his life? Is this some kind of exception, where here you save your life at the expense of the pursuer’s life?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, his right to life, if he’s threatening my life? Only if I could have been saved without killing him, then that’s different. But here the way to be saved is to invest a shekel—I don’t want to invest a shekel. Is he forcing me to invest a shekel? Of course not. I’m not willing. That’s my decision. Maybe the Holy One, blessed be He, won’t like my decision—I’m not even sure about that. But that’s between me and Him. You have nothing to do with it. And if you threaten me because I won’t give you the shekel, I’ll kill you under the law of a pursuer.

[Speaker K] Yes, so the pursuer basically lost his right to life.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, by virtue of being a pursuer. The question is whether such a case is defined as a case of pursuit. Because if I can give him a shekel and save myself, then one might say he isn’t really a pursuer at all—he’s not threatening my life, he just wants a shekel. But since I have the right not to give him the shekel, then he really is a pursuer. Once he is a pursuer, he has no right to life. The Rabbi of Brisk discusses this on Maimonides—the Griz on Maimonides. He says that with regard to the law of a pursuer, two things were said. First, there is permission and obligation to kill him. And second, he has lost his right to life. There is no prohibition of murder in killing him. Two things. There is no prohibition of murder in killing him, and beyond that there is also an obligation on me to kill him. Two different levels.

[Speaker D] But the Rabbi is speaking formally, whereas substantively it’s obvious that there’s a “no” here. Even if it’s not a halakhic prohibition, obviously this is something that needs to be straightened out, let’s call it that. Obviously it’s a problem. This thing doesn’t belong. It doesn’t belong that a person should kill someone over a shekel—even if we say that halakhically, formally, this and that. Substantively it doesn’t belong.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] As for the shekel, in my opinion not only does it belong, it’s obvious that that’s the case.

[Speaker D] What is obvious that that’s the case?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In my opinion there is absolutely no problem killing a thief. For a shekel?

[Speaker D] Over a shekel?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Over half a shekel, over ten agorot. Why? I don’t owe him a penny.

[Speaker D] You don’t owe him a penny, but how does killing over that make sense?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Don’t be ridiculous—he comes into my place, he gets a bullet in the head. Why?

[Speaker D] Why not? Why? Because murdering a person isn’t worth a shekel.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not obligated to give him the shekel.

[Speaker D] Even a thousand shekels isn’t worth it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he’s not threatening me but only trying to take a shekel—not that he’ll kill me if I don’t get the shekel—that’s already another discussion. I claim that even there one may kill him. But that’s a dispute in the laws of “one who comes in through a tunnel”; I had an article about that in Techumin, and the Techumin editorial board got upset. There was an interesting story there. The article was eventually published, but it’s an interesting story.

[Speaker E] But Rabbi, I saw in the Beit Yosef that he brings an opinion apparently regarding this thing the Rabbi mentioned, about bandits coming to town, that it’s permitted to kill them because it could lead to danger to life, because people won’t give to them. So there’s apparently an opinion that it’s because people won’t give to them, but not because that’s what should be done—rather because people don’t want to give.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They don’t want to give. Because they don’t want to give, I’m allowed to murder? Let them give.

[Speaker E] It will happen, it will definitely happen that way, because people won’t give up their money.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s their problem—let them give it up. There’s no such thing—what do you mean they won’t give up? No, this takes us back to the rationale of “one who comes in through a tunnel,” because there too the Talmud gives that same rationale. The Talmud there also says that a person does not stand by his money, and therefore the person won’t give up the money and so he will kill him. I explained in that article that in my opinion this is a fiction. You don’t need that for the permission to kill him.

[Speaker D] I don’t understand how you can kill a person over a shekel, it’s not clear to me.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] With a gun.

[Speaker J] No, no, not how. Not how. If a person is forbidden to kill over one shekel, then also over two shekels and three shekels and all your property and everything you have.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Nothing at all—you don’t need a thousand shekels, ten agorot. I’m not willing to give it to him. What do you mean, he’ll threaten me with a gun? Why?

[Speaker D] That’s not from the law of rights. It’s not from the law of right; it’s from the fact that it can’t be that a person murders someone. It has nothing to do with rights; this is not rights discourse at all. It’s a discourse of: you don’t murder a person over a shekel.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, no, I don’t understand. You’re making two different claims. First of all, yes, you can—there is absolutely no problem murdering a person over a shekel, in my opinion. No moral problem, no halakhic problem, nothing. In my opinion it’s a commandment to kill him. That’s one. And two: what do you mean, why is this not about right?

[Speaker D] No, I mean there are two discourses. There’s the discourse of rights—formally, what belongs to me, what doesn’t belong to me. There’s another discourse, about whether a person can kill a person over a shekel. Not if he can—he can, I can do many things. Should he do it? It seems to me not sensible to do it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m claiming that also—he shouldn’t, but he may.

[Speaker D] Is it permitted—sorry, it just doesn’t make sense. How can it make sense to kill a person over a shekel?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course. What do you mean? No, I don’t understand. Do you really understand what’s happening here? The person is basically doing what? He is basically relying on the prohibition of murder, on the fact that I’ll be careful about—

[Speaker D] Prohibition—wait, he’s insane. What difference does it make that he’s insane?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s not insane; he’s exploiting me. Let him exploit? The Talmud says in Bava Kamma 117, I think, something like that—the Talmud says there that someone who informs on another’s property is killed. One who informs on property is killed. Now there are medieval authorities and later authorities there, and it appears as practical law in Maimonides and in the Shulchan Arukh—as practical law, yes, he is killed. Now, some want to claim that if he informs on property and so on, in the end it can lead to danger to life. But there are quite a few decisors—and also the plain wording of Maimonides and the Shulchan Arukh—that this is not because of lives.

[Speaker D] Rabbi, you’re still answering me with a formal answer. I’m asking substantively.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean formally? What is “formal”? This is practical halakhah. It is permitted to kill him—it is required to kill him, not merely permitted.

[Speaker D] So the reasoning I’m now suggesting probably has to say like those decisors who say that it’s because he will also cause people to die.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m telling you no—decisors say it’s not because of that.

[Speaker D] No, I’m saying—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Some decisors do say that it’s because of that, but others say not, and that is the plain sense of the Talmud and of Maimonides and the Shulchan Arukh—that it’s not. And what is the idea behind this? The idea behind it—I mean, the moral idea, leave rights aside for a moment—that’s one issue. What is the moral idea behind it? This person is basically doing what? He’s relying on my righteousness. Meaning, he is using Jewish law as a spade to dig with. What do I mean? He is relying on the fact that I won’t kill over a shekel, and that’s how he’ll get the shekel from me; afterward he’ll go to someone else and get a shekel from him too; then he’ll go to someone else and get a thousand shekels from him too. In the end, once Jewish law serves someone as a spade to dig with, Jewish law cancels itself so that you won’t succeed in exploiting me by means of Jewish law. You will not be able to use Jewish law in order to exploit me. Why shouldn’t I break him apart?

[Speaker D] What permission is there to kill him?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One second—of course there’s permission; it’s a commandment to kill him.

[Speaker D] No, I’m asking what the point is in killing him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Simply smash him, okay—you don’t need to kill him—

[Speaker D] you don’t need to kill him for that, there’s no permission to kill him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what do you want? That you should give him a shekel or not give him a shekel? Beat him up! Fine, if you can beat him up then obviously you don’t need to kill him—what are you talking about? I’m talking about a situation where I have no choice: either I give him a shekel or I kill him. I have no other way to escape. And if there is another way to escape, then obviously you don’t need to kill him.

[Speaker D] So sorry, then I still need to give the shekel, fine.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s what I’m saying—not true. Because someone who exploits Jewish law in order to extort money from people, Jewish law nullifies itself and says, “You will not be able to use me as a shield.” An example of this: a person cannot render forbidden something that is not his. If I now render something forbidden that belongs to you, I’m basically using Jewish law to harm you. In such a place Jewish law says, leave it, I’m void. No—it does not become forbidden, because you cannot use Jewish law to harm someone else. If you do that, there is no Jewish law.

[Speaker C] But couldn’t it be that that’s not the point—that he’s exploiting Jewish law—but rather that I’m allowed to kill him from the very fact that he’s now coming to kill? Giving the shekel, I’m not obligated.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s not coming to kill; he’s coming to take a shekel.

[Speaker C] He’s threatening to kill—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] for a shekel: “If you don’t give me a shekel, I’ll kill you.” If he took a shekel without threatening to kill, it wouldn’t be permitted to kill him. The point here is that right now he’s coming with a threat to kill.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And his threat to kill is in order to get the shekel. If he gets the shekel, he won’t kill me. Right, but I don’t want—

[Speaker C] to give him the shekel, and there’s no problem in not giving it. Now I kill him because he’s threatening to kill as a result of the fact that it’s my right—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] not to give him the shekel. Not because of exploiting Jewish law, not because he’s exploiting—

[Speaker C] Jewish law.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because if you had given him the—

[Speaker E] shekel—if it weren’t your right, then he’s not coming to kill; give him the shekel. Right, so I’m saying that’s the same rationale. And maybe there’s also the rationale of “a person putting himself into coercion”? What? Maybe it’s connected a bit to this idea that a person puts himself into a situation of duress?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “A person puts himself into coercion” is a claim of exemption from my own transgression, but what’s the permission to kill him?

[Speaker E] If we say that it’s permitted for a person—there are several cases—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] such that we say it’s permitted for a person to place himself into—

[Speaker E] coercion, and then as a result you’ll reach danger to life. No, it doesn’t belong here—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] also, all the medieval authorities who say there that you may not place yourself into coercion agree with this law. It doesn’t depend on that dispute.

[Speaker H] There was also that court case with the man in the south—I forgot his name. Shai Dromi. What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Shai Dromi, exactly, right—I brought that up several times in the article.

[Speaker H] It’s exactly the same story, where in the end they acquitted him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They didn’t acquit him—he went to prison and got early release. They didn’t acquit him. But afterward the Shai Dromi law was passed; even that doesn’t really permit killing there, it just somewhat eases the… lowers the threshold for when killing is permitted. But there is no permission… In my opinion it is permitted. Meaning, I think morally it is permitted: someone who comes into my house—again, if I have no other way to stop it. No, if I have another way to stop it, then of course not. If I have no other way to stop it and he is using force in order to rob me, I’m allowed to shoot him in the head.

[Speaker D] According to the Rabbi, if we're talking, say, about a case where he doesn't want to do this to lots of people, let's say he's doing it specifically to one person. Now we're talking about… no, I'm saying, there's no concern here that he's using Jewish law as a mechanism to try to exploit this. He does it once.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He uses it once. So what?

[Speaker D] Would it still be morally sensible to do such a thing?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, to kill such a person?

[Speaker C] Can the Rabbi explain the statement the Rabbi made earlier, that you can kill him even if he isn't threatening to kill, just by the very fact that he entered the house?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The very fact that he'll take my money from me and I have no way to prevent it except by killing him. If I have a way to prevent it without killing him, then obviously…

[Speaker C] No, that's clear. But what's the justification for killing?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because he shouldn't come into my house. I'm claiming that this is the law of a burglar tunneling in. What the Talmud discusses there is danger to life; you need to look at my article. I go into this at length.

[Speaker E] It's permitted. But what the Rabbi is saying is with regard to Jewish law and morality. But in morality pure and simple, is the Rabbi saying that even morally, without the halakhic aspect, it also makes sense?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The halakhic aspect, what he called formal, is because I have a right. In the moral aspect, it's because someone who uses moral principles or principles of Jewish law as a shield for exploiting others, that shield is void.

[Speaker E] Moral principles, even without principles of Jewish law too?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Both morality and Jewish law. Fine. In any case, what I want to argue—I just need to summarize—what I basically want to argue is that "be killed rather than transgress" regarding theft is not about the prohibition of theft. Therefore, the prohibition of theft should not be counted among the three severe transgressions, because it isn't a prohibition that, due to its severity, overrides saving a life, but rather because of its character. The character of the prohibition is such that you cannot make decisions about my property, and therefore even if you're in a life-threatening situation, that's your problem—manage somehow. Again, of course, practically speaking, in most cases people also agree that you should do it, so there's no need to permit the prohibition of theft. But let's say there's some wicked person here who isn't willing for you to burn his barley even if you'll die, then according to Rashi you have to die and not burn his barley. Most medieval authorities (Rishonim) do not rule that way, so practically speaking it's probably not correct. But look, in Binyan Tziyon—maybe this alone is enough—but Binyan Tziyon expands this further. He has a whole series of several responsa, 186 and onward I think, some five or six responsa on this matter. He expands it to all prohibitions between one person and another. There is "be killed rather than transgress" regarding interpersonal prohibitions, not only regarding the prohibition of theft.

[Speaker D] Right, he agreed that he's wicked, but that there's a moral problem with what he's doing if he won't agree to let a person die rather than let his stack be burned.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, of course.

[Speaker B] No.

[Speaker D] A different weight.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wicked is wicked, just like the one who doesn't give charity or doesn't give the interest payment is wicked, but the other person cannot force him to do it. The Holy One, blessed be He, will settle accounts with him.

[Speaker B] The thief who arrives—once he reaches that point, does he lose his right to life, or from the outset?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does it mean, lose his right to life? But if the only way for me to defend my property is to kill him, then I'm allowed to kill him.

[Speaker B] So your property right overrides his right to life? Yes. Ah, okay. So then, murder is also connected to a right? My right to life, and from that your obligation follows?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is a right, despite the Radbaz that people always quote, that a person is not the owner of himself, but yes, in principle, yes. You have a right.

[Speaker J] Rabbi, but isn't it wrong to say that this ruling the Rabbi is talking about is because of a view of the collective? Because if we say that over a shekel you can, then all rights, all property holdings, lose their… each man would swallow his fellow alive, and the authorities wouldn't even be able to protect you. But if that consideration weren't there…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I'm saying, it could have been interpreted that way. I don't think so. In my opinion, even a private case that won't become a general law justifies it.

[Speaker J] For example, that law about a person who falls in love—and what's it called?—where they say he'll die of anguish if he doesn't… so the reason they say there is so that the daughters of Israel should not be ownerless, and that's this kind of microscopic perspective.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the Talmud says so that the daughters of Israel should not be ownerless.

[Speaker J] So why do they say there that he should die and they shouldn't give him the…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There? There it would be accessories to forbidden sexual relations; there is "be killed rather than transgress."

[Speaker J] But don't they also say there the reason that the daughters of Israel should not be ownerless?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The daughters of Israel are not ownerless. Let him converse with her from behind the fence—what? Okay, I need to stop here.

[Speaker E] Rabbi, regarding this—don't I have a moral obligation to save myself even if he doesn't want me to? I didn't understand.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don't have a moral obligation to save—

[Speaker E] Myself even if the other person doesn't want me to? What situation are we talking about? I don't understand.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the situation of burning the stack.

[Speaker E] The other person doesn't want it, but you can save—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yourself. If you can save yourself, then save yourself. You can't use his property in order to save yourself.

[Speaker E] But morally too—I understand what the Rabbi explained halakhically—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He explained, morally it seemingly doesn't clash? Morally, here there's a lot of room to hesitate.

[Speaker E] Thank you very much, Rabbi. Thank you.

[Speaker B] Thank you very much.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Thank you. Sabbath peace.

Study and Halachic Rulings – Lesson 2

Table of Contents

Summary

General Overview

The Value of Halakhic Study versus Knowing Practical Action

Rashi at the Beginning of Bechukotai: Three Distinct Values

The Division of Jewish Law: Content versus Category

What Defines Choshen Mishpat, and the Difficulty from Charity and Interest

The Passage in Bava Kamma: Saving Oneself through Another Person’s Property and the Dispute between Rashi and Tosafot

The Rashba’s Responsum and the Precision that He Is Not Far from Rashi

“Hohfeld’s Table” and the Claim that Choshen Mishpat Is the Discourse of Rights in Jewish Law

Charity and Interest: Obligation without a Right of Legal Claim

The Story of Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky: The Borrower’s Status as a Witness, Not a Litigant

Vayikra Rabbah on Alexander of Macedon: The Religious Court Acts Only When Rights Are Violated

The Difference between a Rabbi and a Judge: The Rental Story in Yerucham

Solving “Be Killed Rather than Transgress Theft” in Rashi: Ownership as Territory

Examples of Territory: “Do Not Covet,” a Pursuer over a Shekel, and Zimri and Pinchas

The Law of the Pursuer: Two Levels according to the Brisker Rav, and the Debate over Morality and Jewish Law

Summary of the Position: The Rigidity of Choshen Mishpat and the Expansion of Binyan Tziyon

Full Transcript

השאר תגובהלבטל

Table of Contents

Summary

General Overview

The Value of Halakhic Study versus Knowing Practical Action

Rashi at the Beginning of Bechukotai: Three Distinct Values

The Division of Jewish Law: Content versus Category

What Defines Choshen Mishpat, and the Difficulty from Charity and Interest

The Passage in Bava Kamma: Saving Oneself through Another Person’s Property and the Dispute between Rashi and Tosafot

The Rashba’s Responsum and the Precision that He Is Not Far from Rashi

“Hohfeld’s Table” and the Claim that Choshen Mishpat Is the Discourse of Rights in Jewish Law

Charity and Interest: Obligation without a Right of Legal Claim

The Story of Rabbi Yechezkel Abramsky: The Borrower’s Status as a Witness, Not a Litigant

Vayikra Rabbah on Alexander of Macedon: The Religious Court Acts Only When Rights Are Violated

The Difference between a Rabbi and a Judge: The Rental Story in Yerucham

Solving “Be Killed Rather than Transgress Theft” in Rashi: Ownership as Territory

Examples of Territory: “Do Not Covet,” a Pursuer over a Shekel, and Zimri and Pinchas

The Law of the Pursuer: Two Levels according to the Brisker Rav, and the Debate over Morality and Jewish Law

Summary of the Position: The Rigidity of Choshen Mishpat and the Expansion of Binyan Tziyon

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השאר תגובהלבטל