The Laws of Forbidden Labor – Lesson 21

Table of Contents

• Conceptual introduction: inadvertent violation, unintentional action, a labor not needed for its own purpose, and mere involvement
• Unintentional benefit: when it is impossible and one does not intend it
• In a rabbinic-level doubt we are lenient, nullification by majority, and something that will eventually become permitted as a model of “temporarily overridden”
• The person’s connection to the act, result versus action, and Sabbath rest as “rest imposed on the person”
• Where destructive action fits: object-status, person-status, and the complication of intention
• The tendency of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda: intention versus “what you see with your eyes”
• Kim lei be-rabba minei as a test case: the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot regarding destructive action
• Two conceptual practical differences: “both constructive and destructive” and “neither constructive nor destructive”
• Ohr Sameach on the laws of Jewish holidays: a labor not needed for its own purpose versus destructive action, intention versus reality
• Tosafot in Beitzah and a fishing net: fitting the distinction between future and present
• Opening the topic in Sabbath 105: one who tears in anger, destructive action, and a labor not needed for its own purpose

Summary

General overview

The lecture lays out a conceptual framework for exemptions in prohibited Sabbath labors and distinguishes between claims of lack of culpability and the absence of any transgression at all. It does this through examples of unintentional action, a labor not needed for its own purpose, inadvertent violation, and mere involvement, and by comparing them to leniency in rabbinic-level doubt, nullification by majority, and something that will eventually become permitted. It then raises the question of where destructive action belongs on the map: is it exempt because there is no prohibited labor here at all, or is there a transgression with only an exemption from punishment? The discussion is tied to the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot in tractate Bava Kamma regarding kim lei be-rabba minei. Later, the lecture opens the Mishnah in Sabbath 105 about one who tears in anger or over his dead, and the Talmud attributes liability and exemption there to the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon over a labor not needed for its own purpose, while raising the difficulty of how that fits with destructive action and what the fundamental relationship is between destructive action and a labor not needed for its own purpose.

Conceptual introduction: inadvertent violation, unintentional action, a labor not needed for its own purpose, and mere involvement

The lecture establishes that inadvertent violation is a claim of lack of culpability: a transgression was committed, but the person is not culpable, and therefore there is no stoning, only a sacrifice. So the claim relates to punishment, not to the very existence of the transgression. The lecture argues that unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose are claims about the absence of a transgression, not about lack of culpability, because the person knows what he is doing, and nevertheless, according to Rabbi Shimon, the act is permitted or exempt because it is not defined as performing the prohibited labor. The lecture illustrates this with dragging a bench and making a furrow, and with digging a hole when one needs only the dirt, and explains that there is no obligation to “avoid” the possibility of a prohibited result when no labor exists here at all. The lecture places mere involvement as depending on a conceptual dispute: the simple reading in the Talmud places it on the side of absence of transgression, but Rabbi Akiva Eiger, in responsum 8, innovates that it is close to inadvertent violation, that there is a prohibition here, except that the Torah’s novelty is that there is no sin-offering. From this comes a practical difference regarding the rest of one’s slave: whether one must stop a slave who is doing labor in a case of mere involvement.

Unintentional benefit: when it is impossible and one does not intend it

The lecture brings the example of walking on a road where there is the smell of idolatry and explains that the permission in a case where it is impossible and one does not intend it is not built on compulsion, but on revealing that there is no intention to benefit. The lecture cites medieval authorities (Rishonim) in tractate Pesachim that even when there is an alternative route that is only slightly longer, one may still choose the shorter route without being considered a transgressor, because the issue is not “lack of culpability” but that there is no transgression at all. The lecture explains that the test of “it is impossible” is not a claim of “what could I have done,” but an indication that the choice of route is not motivated by an intention to smell the odor of idolatry.

In a rabbinic-level doubt we are lenient, nullification by majority, and something that will eventually become permitted as a model of “temporarily overridden”

The lecture presents leniency in rabbinic-level doubt and nullification by majority as cases where the permission is not necessarily saying “there is no prohibition at all,” and brings proof from the law of something that will eventually become permitted, where they are stringent in cases of doubt and even prevent eating through nullification when one can wait and permit it entirely. The lecture explains the view of most medieval authorities (Rishonim), as opposed to the Ran in a certain context, that the stringency regarding something that will eventually become permitted stems from the principle: “Instead of eating it in a prohibited state, eat it in a permitted state.” From here it follows that the permission is given in situations of need and not as a definition that there is no problem here. The lecture proposes a rationale for nullification by majority based on “the Torah had concern for the property of the Jewish people,” so as not to cause the loss of a large quantity of permitted food because of concern or because of a prohibited minority. From there it concludes that a conscientious person can be stringent in rabbinic-level doubt or in nullification, because there is still a “price,” even though Jewish law does not require it.

The person’s connection to the act, result versus action, and Sabbath rest as “rest imposed on the person”

The lecture argues against the claim that the prohibition of labor on the Sabbath stems only from the result, and clarifies that even if the result defines the category of prohibition, a connection between the person and the act is still required in order to attribute a transgression to him. The lecture uses the example of an act done by a non-Jew, and a comment about the Mekhilta and the Beit Yosef regarding telling a non-Jew to do something, to show that the discussion is not only about a “result in the world” but about how the act is defined as a person’s prohibited act. The lecture establishes that the prohibited act is the person’s “doing,” not merely “something that happened in the world,” and therefore unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose are described as a situation in which “you did not perform the prohibited labor,” even though a certain result occurred.

Where destructive action fits: object-status, person-status, and the complication of intention

The lecture presents destructive action as an act whose destructiveness is a central defining feature, and raises the question whether it belongs on the side of absence of transgression, like unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose, or on the side of transgression with exemption, like inadvertent violation. The lecture suggests an initial distinction according to which unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose depend on the person’s intentions and goals, whereas destructive action seems to depend on the nature of the act itself, and therefore it is more a rule in the object-status than a rule in the person-status. The lecture adds the possibility that destructive action may nevertheless take on a person-status dimension when the destruction is done for some purpose, such as one who tears in anger and gets the “benefit” of venting rage, and says that this is not simple and will be discussed later.

The tendency of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda: intention versus “what you see with your eyes”

The lecture presents a general view according to which Rabbi Shimon follows a person’s intention, while Rabbi Yehuda follows the visible act, and connects this to their dispute about unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose. The lecture brings an example from reasoning based on the verse in the prohibition against taking a widow’s garment as collateral, where Rabbi Shimon limits the law according to its rationale, while Rabbi Yehuda applies the law to every widow based on the text itself. The lecture brings the story of the cave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai in tractate Sabbath as illustrating a moral-conceptual dispute: Rabbi Yehuda sees public benefit and requires gratitude, while Rabbi Shimon examines the inner intention and argues that everything was done “for their own benefit.” The lecture notes that with destructive action it becomes clear that there is also a dispute between them, but in a kind of “reversed” way, and defines this as a central point for the continuation of the discussion.

Kim lei be-rabba minei as a test case: the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot regarding destructive action

The lecture cites the teaching from the school of Chizkiyah in tractate Bava Kamma, according to which even those liable to capital punishment who acted inadvertently are exempt under kim lei be-rabba minei, and illustrates this with theft committed while tearing produce loose on the Sabbath inadvertently. The lecture asks whether destructive action, or other exempt acts such as unintentional action and a labor not needed for its own purpose, creates kim lei be-rabba minei, and states that simply speaking, if there is no transgression, there is nothing that can exempt one from monetary liability. The lecture quotes Tosafot in tractate Bava Kamma, who bring Rashi’s view that destructive action exempts “for the same reason that inadvertent violation is exempt,” and therefore kim lei be-rabba minei applies; but Tosafot reject this, arguing that with destructive action “there is no prohibition of labor,” and therefore kim lei does not apply. The lecture concludes that the dispute is whether destructive action means the absence of transgression, as Tosafot hold, or whether there is a prohibition and only an exemption, as Rashi holds, and suggests tying this to the inquiry whether “destructiveness exempts” or whether “constructiveness is a condition of liability.”

Two conceptual practical differences: “both constructive and destructive” and “neither constructive nor destructive”

The lecture uses the logic of twilight and the model of an androgynos and a tumtum to set up two practical conceptual differences for the inquiry whether destructiveness exempts or constructiveness creates liability. The lecture states that an act that contains both constructiveness and destructiveness may incur liability if the presence of constructiveness is enough to obligate, but it may be exempt if the mere presence of destructiveness exempts. The lecture also states that an act that has neither constructiveness nor destructiveness may be exempt if constructiveness is a condition of liability, but it may incur liability if only destructiveness exempts and there is no destructiveness here.

Ohr Sameach on the laws of Jewish holidays: a labor not needed for its own purpose versus destructive action, intention versus reality

The lecture brings Ohr Sameach on Maimonides regarding separating challah on a Jewish holiday, and in the case of the first day of Passover, where one bakes so that the dough should not become leavened and in order to avoid violating the prohibition against it being seen, even though there is no way to eat the impure challah. The lecture quotes Ohr Sameach as defining this as a labor not needed for its own purpose, because the baking is not for the sake of eating but so that there should not be dough that becomes leavened, and compares it to carrying out something so that “it should not be in the house.” The lecture emphasizes that Ohr Sameach argues that the exemption of destructive action is not only “destructive action” but also “it is neither constructive nor destructive,” and from this it follows that constructiveness is a condition of liability. The lecture brings a further distinction of Ohr Sameach, according to which a labor not needed for its own purpose is determined by the person’s intention even if he is mistaken in Jewish law, whereas destructive action is determined by the objective reality of constructiveness or destructiveness. Therefore there can be a state that is “needed for its own purpose” from the standpoint of intention, but “destructive action” from the standpoint of reality.

Tosafot in Beitzah and a fishing net: fitting the distinction between future and present

The lecture quotes Ohr Sameach, who challenges this from Tosafot at the beginning of tractate Beitzah, where they prohibit trapping on a Jewish holiday out of concern that one may trap impure fish, and Tosafot describe this as a labor not needed for its own purpose even though the person trapping thought he would catch pure fish. The lecture suggests a resolution according to which, when at the time of performing the act it is still possible that pure fish will come, the non-realization of the person’s intention depends on the future, and is therefore defined differently from a halakhic mistake about a fixed situation that cannot be “turned around.” The lecture parallels this to Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s distinction against the Taz regarding a doubtful inevitable result: a doubt about the future, which is not an inevitable result, versus a doubt about the present, which is a doubtful inevitable result.

Opening the topic in Sabbath 105: one who tears in anger, destructive action, and a labor not needed for its own purpose

The lecture presents the Mishnah in Sabbath 105: “One who tears in anger, and over his dead, and all who act destructively are exempt,” and “one who destroys in order to repair, his measure is like one who repairs,” and interprets the last part as referring to the exceptions of tearing in order to sew, erasing in order to write, and demolishing in order to build, including the measures for liability. The lecture brings the Talmud’s question from a baraita in which “one who tears in anger, in mourning, and over his dead is liable,” and resolves it by saying that this is a dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon depending on a labor not needed for its own purpose. The lecture emphasizes that at first the Talmud frames the dispute in terms of a labor not needed for its own purpose, not in terms of destructive action, but later asks that even Rabbi Yehuda agrees that for destructive action one is exempt, and then Rabbi Avin answers that one who tears in anger is “constructive” in that he provides “relief to his impulse.” The lecture presents the difficulty that emerges: when there is some benefit in venting anger, this is not destructive action but a labor not needed for its own purpose, and when there is no benefit, then apparently this is destructive action. But then the question arises of the “pure case” of destructive action, and what the exemption of destructive action adds beyond a labor not needed for its own purpose, especially according to Rabbi Shimon. This point is defined as the million-dollar question for the continuation of the topic.

Okay, now we’re going to start talking about destructive action. At the end I’ll also comment on something enduring, but that’s only after we finish the issue of destructive action. But first, some kind of introduction, even on the conceptual level. Right, we already saw in previous sessions too—and this is a thesis I come back to a lot—that if before starting to learn a topic, you begin with some conceptual analysis of the concepts involved, that can help unravel various complications. When you do conceptual analysis here, you immediately get to the focal point of the problem, because as you’ll see, all the entanglements in the Talmud and in the medieval authorities revolve around this point. So look, what we’ve seen until now: we saw unintentional action, labor not needed for its own sake, inadvertent transgression, and mere involvement / mistaken engagement. Those are basically the four things we’ve covered so far. I said that these categories divide into two subcategories. The category of inadvertent transgression is a category that says: I’m not guilty. A transgression was committed, but I’m not guilty. And if I’m not guilty, then there’s a sacrifice—not stoning, not a punishment of the religious court, but a sacrifice. But the claim of inadvertent transgression is a claim of lack of culpability. By contrast, unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake are claims of absence of a transgression, not lack of culpability. And we talked about how in both unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake—I drag a bench and a furrow is made, or I dig a pit and need only its dirt—there is no inadvertence here at all. I know exactly what I did. Nobody can say, “I’m not guilty because I didn’t know something or didn’t notice.” What do you mean? I’m completely responsible; I knew exactly what was going to happen here. Beyond the question of an inevitable result—I’m not talking about that now, we said that’s not relevant—I know exactly what’s happening here and I did it, and amazingly enough, exactly what was expected to happen happened. Okay? You can’t say you’re not guilty. So why are you exempt? According to Rabbi Shimon, exempt—indeed permitted—because you didn’t commit a transgression. Not because you aren’t guilty. You didn’t commit a transgression. You’re allowed from the outset to drag the bench even though you know a furrow might be made. Why? After all, you know a furrow might be made. You can’t say, “I was under duress, inadvertent, I’m not guilty.” No. Because if I’m dragging the bench in order to move the bench, and not in order to make a furrow, then the act is not an act of making a furrow. That’s permitted. It wasn’t prohibited, and therefore I don’t need to try to avoid it. If I have the option of dragging the bench somewhere no furrow will be made—say there’s pavement—and another option to drag it over sand where one might be made, if it’s an inevitable result then it’s prohibited, but if it’s not an inevitable result a furrow might be made with some probability. Is it preferable to go over the pavement? No. Even though there it’s clear no furrow will be made and here maybe yes. So why take the risk that maybe I’m doing prohibited labor on the Sabbath? The answer is: because I’m taking no risk at all; this isn’t prohibited labor on the Sabbath. It isn’t doing labor on the Sabbath. There’s no transgression here. It’s not a claim of lack of culpability like in inadvertent transgression. Okay? The same with labor not needed for its own sake, also with unintentional action. I brought the example from tractate Pesachim there of “it is unavoidable and he does not intend it.” The Talmud there says, and the medieval authorities bring that example there—the example is from tractate Avodah Zarah, I think—but the medieval authorities there bring this example: what happens if I’m walking on the road, I need to get somewhere, and on the way there’s a shop that has the smell of idolatry? And it’s prohibited—appurtenances of idolatry—it’s prohibited to derive benefit from idolatry. Okay? So ostensibly, am I allowed to go that way? The answer is yes, it’s allowed. If I have no other route, it’s allowed. Why? After all, I’m smelling idolatry. Not only am I smelling idolatry, I’m not even under duress. I could have chosen not to go. I’m not talking about needing to go because of saving a life. Even with saving a life there might be room to discuss appurtenances of idolatry; it may be that one must be killed rather than transgress. But I’m not talking about that. There’s no life-threatening issue. I want to go somewhere, get there, buy something, take a walk, I don’t know, do something there. And on the way there’s a store with the smell of idolatry. You may go. That’s “it is unavoidable and he does not intend it.” And the Talmud there ties that to Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda regarding unintentional action. You see that the issue isn’t—what you’re claiming here isn’t “I’m not guilty.” Because if the claim were “I’m not…” The claim is not “I’m not guilty”; the claim is: there’s nothing to blame me for. I didn’t commit a transgression. Such a thing is not a transgression. And I said there more than that: the medieval authorities write there, in Pesachim, several of them write there: what if I do have another route—but it’s 50 meters longer. Fifty meters. To avoid violating appurtenances of idolatry, take the route that’s 50 meters longer—what’s the problem? Can you really tell me “I was under duress, what could I do?” This route is 100 meters and that route is 150. Much longer, I’m under duress. What duress? To avoid violating appurtenances of idolatry, walk another 50 meters. No, you’re not obligated. If the route is 10 meters longer, you can still go this way. But what about appurtenances of idolatry? There’s no prohibition. The issue is not lack of culpability—this is the point people don’t understand. The issue is not lack of culpability; the issue is that this isn’t a transgression. There’s nothing to blame me for. And therefore one doesn’t need to try to avoid it. If someone wants to act with extra piety, beyond the letter of the law, and doesn’t want to benefit from idolatry because it somehow spiritually dulls the soul—fine, everyone with his own considerations. But halakhically, you don’t have to do that. And I also explained why. I said that what’s going on—what’s the connection between the sugya there and the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda? It’s a whole story from another world, very complicated. But I’ll say it here roughly. I say as follows: if you have a route that’s 20 meters longer and you went this way—what does that actually mean? No, if you have another route 20 meters longer than this route and you went this route, you went this route because it’s shorter. But if you have another route of the same length, or even shorter, and you went through here, then why did you go through here? Because you wanted to smell the smell of idolatry. So the point is not coercion. What “it is unavoidable and he does not intend it” means here—the “unavoidable” isn’t because you’re under duress. Rather, the “unavoidable” tells you that you don’t intend it. Because if you have no other option, then the fact that you went this way isn’t because you intended to smell idolatry; you went because you needed to get somewhere. The “unavoidable” is a device that reveals that the person had no intention. It’s not “unavoidable” in the sense that he has a coercion claim—unavoidable, what could I do? That’s the point. And that’s the whole idea of unintentional action. The idea of unintentional benefit that does not come to him for its own sake is absence of transgression, not a claim to exemption based on coercion. I’ll maybe give you another example I didn’t talk about last time. Rabbinic doubt is ruled leniently. Right? There is nullification in a majority even at the Torah level—yes, if something is nullified in a majority then you may eat the prohibited item if it is nullified in the majority. Fine? Is there any value in avoiding it? Right—is it fully permitted or merely pushed aside? Ostensibly not, right? What do you mean? If it’s permitted, then it’s permitted; don’t be over-righteous. Meaning, if it’s permitted then it’s permitted, right? Ah, I ate something prohibited? Well, maybe as a pious practice—people say it dulls the soul, I don’t know exactly—even though many halakhic decisors will tell you that if it’s permitted then it also doesn’t dull the soul. What dulls the soul isn’t pig molecules; it’s the prohibition. Okay? So if there is no prohibition, then it also doesn’t dull the soul. That is probably a dispute among the medieval authorities in tractate Ketubot on page 60 about nursing from a gentile woman. But still, that’s the common conception. Fine, it’s permitted, so what’s the problem? There’s also no reason at all to be stringent. But there’s good evidence that this isn’t true. Specifically there’s a counterexample. Why? The Talmud in tractate Beitzah and elsewhere says that with something that will later become permitted, we are stringent. What is something that will later become permitted? Something that is prohibited now, and a time will come when it will be permitted. Right? For example, I don’t know, Sabbath prohibitions. After the Sabbath, they no longer apply. Set-aside items. There’s a question whether that counts as something that will later become permitted, but just for the example. Okay? So a set-aside item is something that will later become permitted. Why? Because now, on the Sabbath, I’m forbidden to move it, benefit from it, whatever—but if I wait until after the Sabbath I can. Okay? So the view of most medieval authorities, except for the Ran—the view of most medieval authorities, first of all the Talmud itself—the Talmud says that with something that will later become permitted, we are stringent. What does that mean? It means that regarding rabbinic doubt in a case of something that will later become permitted, we rule stringently, not leniently. Fine? The same with nullification. If you have nullification in a majority, in principle you may eat it according to the law, but if it is something that will later become permitted—wait until tomorrow and it will be permitted—then no, don’t eat it. Okay? Now the Ran has a different approach in the laws of nullification; he claims it’s a case of one type mixed with the same type, not important right now. But the position of most medieval authorities—so too Rashi in Beitzah on page 3 and others—the position of most medieval authorities is that the stringency regarding something that will later become permitted stems from the fact that instead of eating it in prohibition, eat it in permission. Why permit you to violate a doubtful rabbinic prohibition if you can wait and not need to stumble into a prohibition? So why take risks that maybe you’ll violate a prohibition—or with nullification? Right, wait until after the Sabbath and then you won’t need to take the risk here; maybe you ate something prohibited. With nullification you certainly ate something prohibited, not just maybe. You definitely ate it along with lots of permitted food. Okay? So instead of eating it in prohibition, eat it in permission. And then what does that mean? It basically means that there is value in not eating it in prohibition. Because if it were permitted—exactly—if it were completely permitted, then rabbinic doubt would be ruled leniently because there is no prohibition at all, no problem, and no need to try to avoid such a thing, or nullification in a majority. So what room is there for the law of something that will later become permitted? That law tells you: look, why permit you to eat something prohibited if there’s an option to permit it freely, to eat it with no problem at all? But if right now you’re not permitting me anything—there is no prohibition at all—then what’s the issue? Why do I need to look for easier or safer options? Therefore it is quite clear that the Talmud understands that these permissions of nullification and of ruling leniently in rabbinic doubt are permissions granted when there is no better alternative. If I have another option, then don’t do it. What does that mean? It means that these really are arguments, let’s call them, regarding punishment, or arguments to ease things for the person. This is “pushed aside,” not “fully permitted.” Okay? There is a prohibition here, but we don’t demand that standard from you; you may be lenient. And if you have another option, then use the other option. What? The item is nullified; it doesn’t exist. Not true. So halakhically… no, no, that’s exactly what I’m showing you—not true. So what is nullification? Nullification means that you may eat it as though the prohibited item does not exist. Obviously; the fact that it’s only “as though” isn’t our issue—obviously the pork is there. You’re saying halakhically it’s considered as though the prohibition is nullified. Why? Because they want to permit you to eat. What’s the idea behind it? I think—and now this is already speculation about the rationale of the verse—but what’s the idea? The idea is this: suppose one piece of prohibited meat fell into fifty kosher pieces of meat. Now if they tell me, “Look, Torah-level doubt is ruled stringently, you have to be strict,” it comes out that I lose fifty kosher pieces of meat just in order not to stumble over one piece. That’s an excessive demand; the Torah doesn’t demand that of me. Exactly—the Torah has compassion for the property of Israel, for the possessions of Israel. If it’s a large quantity that you lose in order maybe to violate a prohibition involving a small quantity, the Torah does not demand that of you. Okay? If it’s one against one, then fine. One prohibited piece to ban one permitted piece—in order to avoid one prohibited piece, we’ll do that. But once it’s two, then no, as a matter of basic law. Later on it becomes sixty and so forth, but fundamentally already from two and up, no. So you see this is basically an idea that says: it’s not that you aren’t eating a prohibited item; you certainly are eating a prohibited item. It’s just that there are things the Torah does not demand of you. That’s a substantial loss. Fine? But in a place where you can wait until after the Sabbath and eat it with no loss at all, eat everything—then what’s the problem? Why permit you to eat a prohibited item? So you see that this permission is an after-the-fact permission. It’s not that there is no prohibition; rather, they “forgive” you, so to speak. Okay? Therefore, for example, I really think, based on the law of something that will later become permitted, that a conscientious person should be stringent. If a conscientious person wants to be stringent in rabbinic doubt or with nullification involving a Torah prohibition, he’s not an ignoramus. A conscientious person should be stringent. Right—why not? The Torah doesn’t require it, Jewish law doesn’t require it, but if someone wants to be cleaner in this regard, excellent, all is well. Okay? What do you mean? You said that with rabbinic doubt they say there’s no punishment because… No, in this case it isn’t about punishment. With rabbinic prohibitions there is no punishment. It’s not about punishment, but the point is: we permit it to you because of some pressure or something like that. But there is a prohibition here, meaning there is a price. Yes. In my eyes, when it’s permitted there is no prohibition. But if you have the option to eat it in a completely clean, unquestionable way, then no—then there is a prohibition. That is exactly the whole idea of the law of something that will later become permitted. Did you want to comment on something, Yair? I wanted to say that there’s still a difference. All these things—in doubtful cases where we rule leniently, even nullification—it’s as if we’re talking about permissions, you called it after the fact, but they’re permissions concerning a matter. There is some challenge, some problem, and we stamp it “permitted,” stamp it “forbidden,” but we see the problem; we sit and deliberate: permitted or forbidden. By contrast, on the Sabbath, in the cases we’re discussing, it’s not labor. Right, and that’s why I brought the example. I brought these examples in order to get us out of the Sabbath framework and say: there we see that in principle it’s permitted, but the fact is that if you can avoid it, you are required to avoid it. Meaning, the fact that they permitted it doesn’t mean there is no problem. It means they permit it to you, like the kind of punishment argument I mentioned regarding inadvertent transgression. Okay? By contrast, with unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, there is no problem at all. At the Torah level—labor not needed for its own sake is probably a rabbinic prohibition—but at the Torah level there is no problem. Even if you have another option, you may do this; you don’t need at all to try to avoid it. There won’t be a law of “something that will later become permitted” here. So if the thing could later become permitted—right—would they forbid me now to do it on the Sabbath? No. Why? Because there is no prohibition. In a case where there is a prohibition and they merely permit it to me, then yes—wait until after the Sabbath; why permit it to you? Here there’s nothing to permit; there is no prohibition. Do you understand? That’s the point. It’s not the same as something that will later become permitted in rabbinic doubt or nullification in a majority. I know you said that in your opinion the prohibitions ultimately do derive from outcomes. The prohibition of labor on the Sabbath is because of the result that… No. Once there is a prohibition, it is defined by the result, but that doesn’t mean that whenever the result occurred, you automatically violated a prohibition. If the result happened through a gentile, did you violate a prohibition? Of course not. There’s the Mekhilta, right, on “for six days labor shall be done,” and they discuss the passive wording, wanting to say that instructing a gentile is prohibited at the Torah level, precisely because of this, because in the end the result happened, even if through a gentile. But here the Beit Yosef says that’s an asmakhta; it’s not… So that leans more in the formal direction, that what bothers us more is the act of labor that… Obviously. The result—even if you say the result defines the prohibition—obviously the person’s connection to the act is what is prohibited, not the act in itself. And here you have proof that it’s not the result that matters. The result may be some kind of… No, no, I claim it isn’t. It could be that the result is what matters, and still, if I have no connection to that result, then I didn’t commit a prohibition. So it’s unrelated; they’re two different things. That’s why I say there’s no proof. What you said about the result here—these are things where there is a connection. But the claim you made was that it’s not labor. No—why is it not labor? Because I have no connection to it. This action is an action that is not the prohibited action. The action—not the thing that was done. Not the result and not the person, not the connection and not the result—but rather what was important… No, no, no, no. The person’s action, I claim. The person’s action was not a transgression. Yes, that’s what I’m claiming. Not my connection and not… No, the connection means that it’s not a human action—that’s the connection. The point was that it’s something in the process of what a person does; we’re not trying… No, but you understand that something that happened in the world is not a prohibition, unless it is connected to me in some way. Otherwise what does it have to do with me? Meaning… No, no, no, the Jewish law says that if it is unintentional action or labor not needed for its own sake, it is not connected to me; I didn’t do it. A furrow was made here—what do you mean? Factually a furrow was made here. What does “it’s not labor” mean? I didn’t do it. I think you did do it, but you didn’t do the labor. That’s the same thing. You didn’t do the prohibited labor—that’s what you didn’t do. I don’t care—obviously you did something. No one says you didn’t drag the bench. You have to stick to one of these formulations. If you say the exemption is because I didn’t do it, then you can’t say it’s because the labor is not the prohibited labor. No—the doing of this thing is not the kind of doing prohibited on the Sabbath. Sabbath rest applies to the person, not to the world. What do you mean either I didn’t do the act, or else the exemption is because the act was not done intentionally? The act, not the result. Exactly, not the result. No, yes, the act is a human act. Right, but my exemption is not because I detached myself from the result. Yes, it is. You did not perform an action—that’s the same thing. Meaning, you did not perform a prohibited action. I’m not talking about the result; in any case it’s not about the result. You did not perform a prohibited action. So you can say that a prohibited action occurred and I’m not connected to it, or you can say that what I did is not a prohibited action. I think those are two formulations of the same thing. So that’s regarding inadvertent transgression versus unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake. What about mere involvement / mistaken engagement? We dealt with this, right? Meaning, we discussed the question of which side of the equation it belongs to. In the Talmud’s simple view, mere involvement belongs to the camp of unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake. Meaning, it’s not a prohibition at all. At the end we saw Rabbi Akiva Eiger in Responsum 8, where he wants to argue that there is a prohibition here, like inadvertent transgression. It’s just inadvertent transgression that doesn’t require a sin-offering. The Torah’s novelty is that with mere involvement this is the sort of inadvertent transgression that does not require a sin-offering, because it really is a kind of inadvertent transgression—we saw that, okay? And therefore I said that Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s great novelty is that he connects mere involvement to the category of inadvertent transgression. Meaning, there was a transgression here, but you have arguments regarding punishment, and here even better arguments than in inadvertent transgression, because you don’t even have to bring a sin-offering. Fine—but these are still arguments regarding punishment. Therefore, if you could avoid it in a case of mere involvement, you ought to avoid it exactly as with something that will later become permitted. And that’s the practical difference Rabbi Akiva Eiger brings—it’s not me saying it; it’s him. Well, you’re saying: for example, if you see your slave resting, then your slave’s rest is incumbent on you. You have to make sure your slave rests—“so that your slave and your ox and your donkey may rest,” and so on, right? Must you prevent him? He’s performing an act through mere involvement. Now if he is acting through mere involvement, he himself cannot avoid it because he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, right? So there’s no point discussing whether a person must avoid doing labor through mere involvement. If it’s mere involvement, you don’t know that you’re doing labor. But he says yes, there’s another practical difference: if my slave’s resting is incumbent upon me, and he performs labor through mere involvement, do I need to stop him? If there is a prohibition involved, then when he does it through mere involvement he’ll be exempt, but a prohibition has occurred, and I must stop him because his rest is incumbent upon me. But if this thing is not a prohibition at all, like if I see my slave doing something unintentionally, let him do whatever he wants. There is no need to stop him because no prohibition has occurred, even though his rest is incumbent upon me. Fine? No prohibition has occurred at all. But I said that this Rabbi Akiva Eiger is a very great novelty, meaning the simple view is certainly not like that. The simple view is that mere involvement belongs with unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, meaning it’s not a prohibition at all. Now the interesting question is: what about destructive action? Where is destructive action located on this map? And from here I want to begin our discussion of destructive action itself. On the face of it, when you do an act—what is destructive action? Say I burn wood. Fine? Now when I burned the wood I basically ruined the wood, or I injured someone, or something like that. I performed an act of damage; it doesn’t repair anything, it damages. Okay? And for that a person is exempt. Okay? Right? Now the question is which side of the two sides I described earlier this belongs to. Is it an argument about punishment, some kind of “they forgive me for it because it’s destructive”? Or no—when I do destructive action, that simply isn’t the kind of action the Torah prohibited on the Sabbath. The Torah prohibited constructive activity on the Sabbath—that’s the Sabbath labors, right? Intelligent labor, as in the Tabernacle. But acts that damage, the Torah did not prohibit. Here: with building, with demolishing you damage. Demolishing—no, no, we’ll see that. There are several exceptions: tearing in order to sew, right? But didn’t he perform labor? Well, that’s exactly the point. But demolishing in order to build—those are the exceptions, because demolishing is a labor defined from the outset as a labor that is essentially destructive, but it is done for the sake of what will come after it, like tearing in order to sew, like erasing in order to write. Okay, those are the three exceptions. “I sent you to repair and not to damage.” That’s not relevant here. Why is it relevant here? It isn’t clear, but it’s not relevant here. Here the question is what the Torah prohibits. With an agent, the question is whether he is carrying out my will. No, it’s unrelated to the Torah’s laws. If he damaged, then I didn’t appoint him as my agent for that—so “I sent you to repair and not to damage” is something else. In any case, for our purposes, on the face of it destructive action actually seems to belong to the camp of mere involvement and labor not needed for its own sake, okay? Basically this is not a prohibition. It’s not a prohibition, not that I have some arguments like “please forgive me,” not “I deserve a lighter punishment” or “I don’t deserve punishment” or anything like that. But what—why is it prohibited? Rabbinically? Not rabbinically. Labor not needed for its own sake is also prohibited. That’s unrelated. The Sages prohibit things lest one come to do something else; that does not mean the thing has to have an intrinsic problem. On the contrary, there is a major novelty from the later authorities, even though it’s almost explicit in Maimonides, that among rabbinic prohibitions on the Sabbath, among rest-prohibitions, there are two kinds. There is one kind that is a decree lest one come to do something else, but in itself it is not problematic. And the second kind is something that itself has the Torah-level problem but at a lower degree, so it doesn’t cross the threshold of Torah prohibition. Right? For example, someone who selects food from waste. Selecting waste from food is the classic selecting. When you select food from waste, some say that basically you have the same problem as ordinary selecting, only the problem appears at a lower degree, so the Torah did not prohibit it, but the Sages did. Why did they prohibit it? Not out of concern that you might come to select waste from food, but because this itself is problematic; it’s just that its problematic nature is of a lower degree, so it is only a rabbinic prohibition and not a Torah prohibition. Okay? By contrast, if someone rides a horse on the Sabbath and there is concern he may break off a branch—right—nobody will say that someone riding a horse on the Sabbath is harvesting rabbinically. You are not harvesting; you’re riding a horse. There is concern that you may harvest. So here this is certainly a prohibition of the first type, meaning a prohibition that says: concern lest you come to do something else, but this act itself is not problematic. And there are sides, by the way, in the medieval and later authorities who discuss which of the two is more severe, and there are arguments both ways. Why? Because one could say that a prohibition made because of a Torah prohibition is more severe, because you might actually come to a Torah prohibition. In the rabbinic case—say, you select food from waste—you are selecting food from waste; that itself is problematic, not because you’ll come to select waste from the food. Fine. But it can’t become a Torah prohibition, so maybe it’s lighter. On the other hand, selecting food from waste has a problem in itself, whereas when you ride a horse on the Sabbath you didn’t do anything problematic at all. The whole problem is only that maybe you’ll come to break off a branch, at which point there would be a problem. But if I didn’t come to break off a branch, then I only rode a horse on the Sabbath; nothing happened. So maybe that’s actually lighter. Fine, there are arguments both ways. In any case, for our purposes, this means that mere involvement and destructive action belong to the camp of unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, and probably mere involvement too, if not for Rabbi Akiva Eiger—right? It belongs to that camp where it’s basically not a transgression. Still, there is something to note within this category itself. There is something that may be different. Why? Because unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake are exemptions stemming from the person’s intentions and purposes. The labor itself is done the same way as ordinary labor is done; it’s just that your purposes or intentions are not what is required to prohibit it. You drag a bench and make a furrow—if you had dragged it in order to make the furrow, you’d be liable to stoning. It is done exactly the same way as in the unintentional case. What’s the difference between unintentional and intentional? Your intentions: whether you’re dragging it for the sake of the furrow, or you’re dragging it in order to move the bench from place to place, right? The same with someone who digs a pit but needs only the dirt. You dig in exactly the same way. The only question is: what is your target, what is your goal? Do you want the pit, or do you want the dirt? Right? Right, it depends on the person. In other words—and this sharpens what we discussed earlier—inadvertent transgression is certainly an exemption in the person, right? You do the act, a prohibited act, but you didn’t know, so okay, they forgive you; you don’t deserve the court’s punishment, bring a sacrifice. Okay? With unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, I said there is no transgression—not merely that the person is not guilty, but that there is no transgression. But the absence of transgression here is because of the person and not because of the act-object, because the act was carried out exactly in its full form, meaning the way it is done in a full prohibition. The whole difference is only your intentions, right? In the person there is a difference in how he approaches doing this act. That’s unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake. In destructive action, the act itself is not an act done the way the Torah speaks of it. You are performing a damaging act. The act is a different act. It does not depend on the person; it doesn’t depend on what you intended to achieve through this thing. Rather, the act in itself is an act of damage. The nature of the act causes it not to be prohibited, not the person’s intentions. So notice: there are actually three categories—or two that are really three. One category is inadvertent transgression and mere involvement according to Rabbi Akiva Eiger: an act that is basically a transgression, but your culpability is reduced, if there is any at all. Okay? Unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake are acts that contain no prohibition at all. But why is there no prohibition? After all, physically the act was done. Because the person’s intention or goals were different. Okay? So this is because of the person, and therefore there is no prohibited act. There is still a personal dimension here. In inadvertent transgression it’s entirely the person. Here, the person’s dimension means there is no prohibited act. In destructive action, it’s a rule in the object—the object-character of the act—because the thing itself is a damaging act. It doesn’t relate to the question of what my goal is, what I want to achieve through this thing—ostensibly. What I want to achieve, we’ll still discuss, but that’s how I’m talking right now. So it doesn’t relate to what I want to achieve, but to what the act did: it simply damaged. We’ll see later that what I just said now is really not simple at all, but this is an initial analysis, an initial conceptual analysis. I’m just reminding you—I think I mentioned this when I spoke in the classes on unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake—it’s well known, and many have pointed this out, that the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda in these two matters—unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake—reflects some general tendency of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Shimon goes after the person’s intentions, and Rabbi Yehuda goes after what we see with our eyes. Meaning: what did you do? I don’t care what your intentions were. Therefore Rabbi Shimon exempts in labor not needed for its own sake and unintentional action, because the intentions were different, and Rabbi Yehuda says: I don’t know what you did—I don’t care what your intentions were. You did it, you are liable. Okay? That’s the simple conception. Where do you see this? You see it, for example, in interpretation based on the rationale of a verse. Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda disagree about whether we derive law from the rationale of a verse or not. Rabbi Shimon does, and Rabbi Yehuda does not. For example, “Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral.” Right? “Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral” means you may not take collateral from a widow. Rabbi Shimon says: only from a poor widow; from a wealthy widow it is permitted. Why? Because the reason for the verse clearly applies only to a poor widow. Okay? Rabbi Yehuda says: whether wealthy or poor. Why? I don’t know the reason for the verse; I know what it says. What does it say? It says “Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral,” so any widow. Meaning, Rabbi Yehuda goes after what we see with our eyes, while Rabbi Shimon goes after what’s behind the words. By the way, that’s why Rabbi Shimon—as a side note, we recently passed Lag BaOmer—that’s why Rabbi Shimon is the figure of the hidden dimension. He looks at what is happening behind things. And Rabbi Yehuda looks at what is happening in practice. Where do you see this most clearly? It’s in the Talmud in tractate Shabbat, right? Around the story of the cave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. What happens there? The Sages discuss there: “How fine are the works of this nation.” And Rabbi Yehuda ben Gerim, and afterward they pursued them and Rabbi Shimon fled to the cave and so on. So: “How fine are the works of this nation.” Right? Rabbi Yehuda says—this is Rabbi Yehuda speaking—“How fine. Look, they established marketplaces, roads, bathhouses,” all kinds of things like that. Rabbi Shimon says: they did everything for their own benefit. They did it for themselves. What is the dispute there? Rabbi Yehuda says: look, if they did us good, why should I care what their intentions were? If they did us good, they deserve our gratitude. Rabbi Shimon says no—let’s stop and think why they did this good. What were their intentions? This is unintentional action. Okay? And therefore he says they do not deserve gratitude. This is a moral practical difference, right? Does someone deserve gratitude for something he did for me even though he did not really intend to benefit me? He did it for his own reasons, but in practice something good came to me from it. Right, like what they say about Moses and the Nile, right? That Moses did not strike the Nile, only Aaron did, because the Nile had bestowed kindness on Moses. But the Nile did not bestow kindness on Moses. The Nile doesn’t decide to do things. Okay? The question is whether gratitude is owed to someone who did me good even though he did not intend to do me good. Okay? Right, there it’s obviously much more extreme. Clearly it’s much more extreme—I’m only saying that this is… What? “Do not throw a stone into the well from which you drank”? Yes, maybe that’s to educate yourself or something like that. In any case, for our purposes, what I want to say is that the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda in unintentional action and in labor not needed for its own sake basically indicates that in both of those cases, the issue is an issue in the person. The question is what you intend, what your goals are. And therefore Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda disagree about it. Okay? So I would expect that with mere involvement, for example, we don’t find a dispute between them. Fine—they don’t have to disagree about everything. But what happens with destructive action? It turns out that with destructive action too there is a dispute between them. Ostensibly that is also an indication of what is going on here. Except that here—exactly—it gets reversed. It gets reversed here, and that we’ll have to discuss further: how this story happens here, how Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda switched places in this sugya of destructive action. I’ll just add one more sentence for the sake of this introduction. It’s possible to bring the person’s intentions into destructive action as well. Meaning, if the person performs an act that is an act of damage, but he does it because he needs it for some purpose, then here, if you look at the act in itself, the act in itself is an act of damage. But if he himself does it because he needs it, as in tearing in his anger or over his dead relative—right? I tear in order to channel some rage I feel inside me, to release some rage I feel inside me. Then the tearing itself is the same tearing everyone does, right? But I did it for some need of mine. Does that help transform the thing so that it is no longer destructive? If so, that means that here too there is a personal dimension. And it’s not correct that destructive action is only a matter of the object-character, but rather, like unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, we’ll have to look at this more. If he comes to repair, then it depends on the person whether he wants to repair or not. What about tearing in order to sew, all those things? Those are already exceptions. I’m speaking even without the exceptions. There those labors are defined from the outset as such. But I’m talking about the other labors, not about tearing, building, and… demolishing in order to build. So I’m saying, but that is said only regarding the three labors of tearing, erasing, and demolishing. And there from the outset it is defined as demolishing in order to build, tearing in order to… it is defined that way. I’m talking about the other labors in which there is destructive action. What will happen if you do it in order to bring about some other repair? Will that then stop being destructive action? If so, that means there too the person’s intentions matter. It doesn’t depend only on how the act itself is done. Once again? The person’s? I didn’t say to exclude it—I’m posing a question. He said that he intends, and that’s what Rabbi Shimon claims all the time. I’m saying: we’ll have to examine this in the sugya of destructive action—whether there too the dimensions of the person really matter, or whether there it really is entirely a matter of the act-object. And we’ll see—no need to jump—we’ll still talk about it. I’m thinking of an example: breaking a vessel in order to remove its ritual impurity. Someone baking dough on a Passover festival so it won’t become leavened. I can’t use it; it’s impure dough set aside as priestly dough. I can’t use it. But I won’t wait until it becomes leavened, because if I wait a few minutes it will become leavened, and then I’ll violate “it shall not be seen.” So I want to bake it now. And one may bake on a festival, right? So I bake this thing, but I bake it so it won’t become leavened and I won’t violate “it shall not be seen,” like what you said earlier. So Tosafot discuss this—we’ll still talk about it. Actually not Tosafot, sorry, Or Sameach on Maimonides. But first I want to show you a dispute among the medieval authorities in tractate Bava Kamma. The Talmud there discusses the issue of “he receives the greater liability.” “He receives the greater liability” means that when a person, through one act, incurs two punishments, we impose the more severe punishment. For example, death and monetary payment, or death and lashes—then he incurs death and is exempt from the monetary payment or the lashes. Okay? With lashes and monetary payment, it’s a dispute among the Amoraim whether we give lashes or impose payment—this is Ulla and Rabbi Yohanan. But the Talmud there in Bava Kamma on page 35 brings in the name of the school of Hezekiah that the school of Hezekiah says that even those liable to death when acting inadvertently are exempt under “he receives the greater liability.” If someone did a transgression inadvertently—say, prohibited labor on the Sabbath inadvertently—fine?—and along with that became liable monetarily. Fine? Say he stole on the Sabbath, stole fruit from my tree. Fine? “One who picks a fig from my figs”—the Talmud in Bava Kamma on page 70, for those who know “returning money.” So I pluck the fig from your tree, and I steal it. Fine? But I don’t notice that it is still attached; meaning I act inadvertently regarding the plucking, the harvesting. Okay? But regarding the theft, no—I’m a thief; and in any event it doesn’t matter if I was inadvertent there, I’m liable anyway. Now the question is whether the stoning-prohibition I violated in harvesting on the Sabbath exempts me from the monetary obligation. Okay? And the answer is yes. Meaning, even those liable to death when acting inadvertently are exempt under “he receives the greater liability.” This is the school of Hezekiah, and that is also how Jewish law is ruled. Okay? What happens if someone did the act not inadvertently but as destructive action? Does that exempt you under “he receives the greater liability”? Destructive action. In inadvertent transgression he isn’t liable; in destructive action too he isn’t liable. What? In inadvertent transgression, “he receives the greater liability” exempts you. So what about mere involvement? What about unintentional action? What about labor not needed for its own sake? You did a Sabbath act—you detached that thing from the tree unintentionally, or in a case of labor not needed for its own sake, fine? So you incur monetary liability for the theft, and on the Sabbath too—you committed a Sabbath prohibition. But you didn’t commit a Sabbath prohibition—it’s unintentional action, labor not needed for its own sake. The question is whether “he receives the greater liability” applies here or not. I understand. There is—basically there is no transgression in that. If he didn’t commit a transgression, there’s no transgression. Exactly. Exactly. Exactly. Therefore, on the face of it, with inadvertent transgression—after all, there is a transgression, they just forgive me. In such a case the school of Hezekiah innovates that “he receives the greater liability” applies, because you did commit the transgression, the more severe transgression you did commit. True, you didn’t incur the punishment. But you did commit the transgression that carries that punishment. Okay? By contrast, unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake involve no transgression at all—it isn’t there. So there, ostensibly, there should be no exemption of “he receives the greater liability.” Fine? What will happen with destructive action? These assumptions—the assumptions are probably correct. With destructive action, there is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot in Bava Kamma page 35. So look. Tosafot there in Bava Kamma 35b bring Rashi’s view. It says: “Our Mishnah speaks of inadvertent transgression.” Rashi explained that Rava establishes the Mishnah in a case where he did not need the ashes and is exempt for the same reason that one who acts inadvertently is exempt. Someone who burned and does not need the ashes—that is destructive action. Okay? You burn wood and don’t need the ashes—that’s destructive action. Okay? “And he is exempt for the same reason that one who acts inadvertently is exempt.” And under “he receives the greater liability,” destructive action is exempt. And the wording doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t seem that this is destructive action; here it seems to be inadvertent transgression. Furthermore, it is not comparable to inadvertent transgression, because inadvertent transgression contains a prohibition of labor, whereas here there is no prohibition of labor. What are Tosafot claiming? That destructive action is not like inadvertent transgression, but like unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake, right? There is no transgression here at all. This is not an exemption from coercion. It’s not like inadvertent transgression. Therefore there can’t be “he receives the greater liability” here. Therefore, they say, rather one should say: our Mishnah speaks of inadvertent transgression, and in this respect it teaches us that it is analogous to his ox. Just as his ox is inadvertent, so too he is inadvertent, and nevertheless he is exempt because of the school of Hezekiah. And it is not speaking here about destructive action; it is speaking about inadvertent transgression. With inadvertent transgression there is an exemption under “he receives the greater liability.” With destructive action, there is not. And Rashi holds that even with destructive action there is an exemption under “he receives the greater liability.” What is the dispute? To which side of the equation does destructive action belong, right? Tosafot says destructive action resembles unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake: there is no prohibition at all here, not merely no punishment. There is no prohibition; it’s an absence of transgression. If you didn’t commit the more severe transgression, what would exempt you from monetary payment? There is no “he receives the greater liability.” But Rashi, who says there is such an exemption—what is he saying? That it’s like inadvertent transgression. In what sense is it like inadvertent transgression? Destructive action is not inadvertent transgression; he knows what he’s doing—he’s damaging. It’s like inadvertent transgression only in this sense: that according to Rashi, apparently like what Rabbi Akiva Eiger said about mere involvement, Rashi says that with destructive action there is a transgression. There is a transgression, it’s just that you are exempt—the Torah exempted you for some reason. But there is a transgression here, and therefore there is “he receives the greater liability” with regard to the monetary payment. So basically what I said earlier as something seemingly obvious—that destructive action belongs to the camp of labor not needed for its own sake and unintentional action—turns out probably to be a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot. Tosafot hold that way; Rashi apparently does not. And unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake? Yes, good question, I don’t know. Actually now I remember, there’s some Pnei Yehoshua that I saw referenced and never found where it is. Someone even wrote that it’s on this very sugya in Bava Kamma 35b. Pnei Yehoshua is cited by a work called Sefer Kovetz on Maimonides. Maimonides brings the law of extinguishing a fire on the Sabbath—right? You know chapter “All Holy Writings” in tractate Shabbat, chapter 16? So when a fire breaks out on the Sabbath, one may not extinguish it, okay? And one may not even rescue things from the fire, lest one come to extinguish. Except food for three meals and so on, clothes for that day, and ritual accessories, sacred accessories, okay? A scroll and its case, and so on. That’s it. Beyond that, one may not rescue anything. Fine? So Sefer Kovetz asks: what do you mean it’s forbidden to rescue something lest you come to extinguish? Even if you come to extinguish, that’s labor not needed for its own sake, which is prohibited only rabbinically. And according to Maimonides, labor not needed for its own sake—he rules like Rabbi Yehuda, that one is liable. But in practical halakhah most decisors don’t rule that way; they rule like Rabbi Shimon. Labor not needed for its own sake is exempt. So how can you make a decree upon a decree? You’re forbidden to rescue lest you come to extinguish, but extinguishing itself is only a rabbinic prohibition. And he brings there in the name of that Pnei Yehoshua—this is the first reference I saw to that Pnei Yehoshua—that Pnei Yehoshua claims that labor not needed for its own sake is a Torah prohibition, not a rabbinic one, even according to Rabbi Shimon. It’s just that one is exempt from punishment, but it is a Torah prohibition. That’s his claim. It’s an interesting novelty. I never found that Pnei Yehoshua, so I don’t know where it is. I saw only references to it. But maybe that connects to what you said earlier. It could be that Rashi would indeed say, like the Pnei Yehoshua, that even unintentional action and labor not needed for its own sake belong to the camp of inadvertent transgression—to the camp of “there is a transgression, but you’re exempt for some reason,” okay? And then indeed in all of those he would say that “he receives the greater liability” applies. Because it seems that if that Pnei Yehoshua is indeed here in Bava Kamma 35b—and I didn’t find it here, in any case—but if he is here, then he says it precisely with respect to “he receives the greater liability.” So when he says labor not needed for its own sake is prohibited at the Torah level, what he means is: therefore there will be “he receives the greater liability” here, okay? Because it’s a Torah prohibition, even though according to Rabbi Shimon it is clear one is not punished. So it’s like inadvertent transgression—there is a prohibition, just no culpability or no punishment or whatever, but a prohibited act was committed. Therefore there will be “he receives the greater liability” here. I don’t know—maybe this Rashi is evidence for the Pnei Yehoshua; I don’t know exactly. In any case, the point I want to make is that there is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot over how to understand the exemption of destructive action. Is the exemption of destructive action an absence of transgression, or an exemption from punishment? Fine—that is basically the issue. There is a different conceptual inquiry in the laws of destructive action, and it can also be tied to this matter. Why is destructive action exempt? Is destructive action exempt because all the labors on the Sabbath must be acts of repair, and if there is a labor that is destructive then the Torah did not prohibit it? Or no—all Sabbath labors are prohibited in any case, but there is a rule that if you act destructively, they exempt you. Okay, that is basically the question. So before I go in and explain the matter more, on the face of it this seems to be a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot. Why? Because if you say that all the Torah prohibited was labor that contains repair, then it follows that if in this labor you are damaging, then it wasn’t prohibited, so there is no prohibition at all—it’s not an exemption; there is no prohibition. Because all that was prohibited is only constructive labor. What? All the prohibitions. What’s the problem? The prohibitions concern constructive labor. If you perform constructive labor, you violated a prohibition. What do you mean? All “do not do” commandments—prohibited labor is a prohibition. So the claim is that if you understand that all the Torah prohibited was labor that contains repair, as in the Tabernacle, as in creation, whatever, then in a place where there is damage or no repair, this simply isn’t included in the labors that were prohibited. That’s Tosafot’s view: with destructive action there is no prohibition at all; this is not what was prohibited. But if I understand otherwise—no, labors were prohibited whether they involve repair or damage. It’s labor. You sewed, trapped, sorted—whatever it is, you are liable. There is a special novelty in the law of destructive action: if that labor is destructive, then they exempt you. That is Rashi’s view. Therefore Rashi says the prohibition exists, but you are exempt. A practical difference is “he receives the greater liability,” because the prohibition exists, so “he receives the greater liability” applies. According to Tosafot, you didn’t commit a Sabbath prohibition at all, so what would exempt you from the monetary payment? There is no “he receives the greater liability.” Fine? So it could be that the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot is over whether damage is an exempting condition, or whether repair is needed in order to incur liability. Okay? Where could that have a practical difference beyond “he receives the greater liability,” which I already brought? In two cases. And this is always androgynos and tumtum. Androgynos and tumtum. The logic of androgynos and tumtum—not the androgynos and tumtum themselves, although maybe one could even apply it to them directly. What do I mean? There is male and female—that’s how it was, at least until a few years ago, right? In the world there is male and female. Okay. Now there are two hybrid creatures: the androgynos and the tumtum. The androgynos is one who has both male signs and female signs. And the tumtum is one who has neither male signs nor female signs. Covered up, right? It doesn’t matter, but at least from our perspective he has neither of the two sets of signs. These are two in-between states. Or take twilight, for example. Twilight is the subject of a three-way tannaitic dispute over how to relate to twilight. Is twilight a doubt—day or night? Meaning it is doubtfully day or doubtfully night, but what exactly is the doubt? Is it that you don’t know whether it is day or night? Or perhaps it is neither day nor night, but a third thing? Or perhaps it is both day and night. The Rogatchover says: what’s the practical difference? If there is a law that must be done by day, okay? Because day is needed. Then if twilight is both day and night, you can do it during twilight as well because it is also day. Why should I care that it is also night? In practice it is day, and this must be done by day, and I did it by day, since twilight is also day. But if twilight is neither day nor night, then you can’t do it during twilight because it has to be done by day, and twilight is neither day nor night, right? What if there is a law that is done by day not because day is required, but because night is forbidden? You do it by day because it is forbidden at night, not because day is required. Then everything flips, right? If twilight is both day and night, you can’t do it then, because it is also night and it is forbidden to do it at night. And if twilight is neither day nor night, then there is no problem. It is forbidden to do it at night, and this is not night. And it flips, right? Meaning if twilight is both day and night, or neither day nor night, it will depend on whether the reason you must do it by day is because day is required, or because night is forbidden. And that will reverse the laws between “both day and night” and “neither day nor night.” Like Rabbi Yohanan? Neither day nor night. Fine? Now the same thing for us. What happens in our case? What happens if there is a labor that contains both repair and damage? Fine? So if you say repair is needed in order to incur liability—not that damage exempts, but repair is needed in order to incur liability—then there was repair here. Why should I care that there was also damage? If you tell me that the presence of damage itself exempts, then in a labor that has both damage and repair, it could be that you are exempt, because there was damage here. True, there was also repair, but there was damage, and when there is damage, that exempts. Right? Just like twilight—the same logic. Yes, but the damage itself—but this is one labor. Yes, but it’s not an exemption for another repair. Why not? Why? This labor is a labor that damaged. But this whole exemption was newly taught—or you were told—about something that is itself damage. It is itself damage, but not only damage; could that exempt? But something that is repair—you said repair could… I didn’t say “could”—I said that is one possibility. That’s why I said it’s possible. No, but there’s reason to distinguish even if you go with that logic. No, no, I’m saying that’s why I said “possible.” Even if I go with that logic, one could say that here too there would be exemption despite the presence of both repair and damage. One could also say not. But if you tell me that absence of repair is what exempts, then here there is repair. Why should I care that there is also damage? The damage is irrelevant. That’s one practical difference. A second practical difference, like twilight, exactly the same thing. The second practical difference is: what happens with something that has neither repair nor damage? Tumtum. The previous case was androgynos. There was both repair and damage, right? Now I’m talking about tumtum. There is neither damage nor repair. What is the law of such a thing? If you say repair is needed in order to incur liability, then he is exempt, right? But if you say damage is needed in order to be exempt, then there is no damage, and you won’t be exempt—you’ll be liable. Right? What? We’ll encounter examples. All this is just introduction, conceptual introduction. We’ll encounter examples and look for them a bit, because the whole thing here is very complicated. That’s why I’m giving this entire conceptual introduction. Usually, logically, you’d say that what is not repair is damage. Meaning damage is not necessarily things that… I don’t know, I’m just throwing something out now—we’ll still have to clarify it—but say I dig a pit in a field, fine? But it’s a barren field. There’s nothing there. I don’t need this pit. On the other hand, it doesn’t damage anything either—it’s a barren field, what does it matter that there’s a furrow there? That’s what he wants. So that’s neither repair nor damage. Fine. You could ask then why I did it. I didn’t make some repair there, or “a field with repair” is not some category… No. Then you’re going back to what I said earlier. That’s called neither repair nor damage. You can say that this counts as damage, according to your view, and then you’ve basically said that something with neither repair nor damage is considered damage. Fine. Then you’re saying that halakhically. What is this? We haven’t yet discussed what damage is. No—damage means you ruined the wood, burned the wood, destroyed it. Something straightforward. You can define it—and you’re right—that one could define “damage” as simply the absence of repair. But then you’ve already defined it that way. I’m still asking the question. Okay. What? “The pit was empty, there was no water in it.” Yes, that is “a double exclusion comes to include.” It’s simple logic. The pit was empty, there was no water in it. And if it was empty, what does “there was no water in it” mean? It comes to tell you that only water there was not, but Rashi says snakes and scorpions there were. If there hadn’t been the doubling and they had said “there was no water in the pit,” I would not have said that there were snakes and scorpions there. Fine. The first class I gave here at the institute, I don’t know how many—fifteen years ago? I don’t know, something like that. More actually—maybe twenty. Sparcher came in here—Professor Sparcher from chemistry. A Torah scholar. He wrote an article about “a double exclusion comes to include,” and I argued with him in one of my articles, and at that very time I was giving some class here—I don’t remember what—and Sparcher walked in and said, “Sparcher was right,” and walked out. At first I didn’t understand what he was talking about because I didn’t know him at all; it was my first time here. Only later did I understand that he was referring to that article where I had argued with some Sparcher who had written something. I didn’t know who it was. Fine. Jews of the old type—they live Torah, and his reasoning is an existential matter for him. He doesn’t… what do you mean? He fights for his ideas. For him it’s like… I have a friend who taught in the midrasha in Pardes Hannah. And he told me: every so often, when there was a new teacher there, Rabbi Yogel would come along and accompany him, see what he was preparing for the class and so on, because it was very important to Rabbi Yogel how classes were prepared for students. So he told me it happened several times that he was sitting and talking with Rabbi Yogel about various matters. Fine, they finish. Rabbi Yogel goes home, he goes home, finishes, goes to sleep. At two in the morning he hears a knock on the door. Rabbi Yogel walks in: “Regarding what we discussed—” not even noticing that he had woken him or anything like that—he walks in: “Regarding what we discussed, I think Tosafot says this and Rashi…” As if—everything was alive for him. He lived it. This isn’t to his credit or to his discredit. These are people who live Torah. That’s good. In any case, those could be practical differences in the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot. Okay? Is damage itself an exempting factor, or is it the absence of repair that exempts? Meaning, repair creates liability, and the absence of repair is what exempts. There is an Or Sameach—I saw it earlier—Maimonides discusses in the laws of the festival what happens with setting aside priestly dough on a festival. Maimonides discusses the case where one can set aside priestly dough on the eve of the festival, but then it is forbidden to burn it on the festival. But if you set aside the priestly dough on the festival itself, then you may burn the dough on the festival—burn it when it became impure on the festival itself. Now he says there: what happens—he asks why not leave it until after the festival and burn it then. So why do you need to burn it? Right? It’s basically something that will later become permitted. Okay? So he says: what happens on the first festival day of Passover? On the first festival day of Passover—that’s what I mentioned earlier—if you wait with this dough, it will become leavened. Right? Wait 18 minutes or whatever amount of time, and it will become leavened. So you want to bake it so it won’t become leavened. Meaning, to fix it in place, make it into some kind of matzah. Fine? On the festival. Now you’re not doing it in order to eat it—you’re not allowed to eat it, since it is impure priestly dough. Okay? You’re doing it so it won’t become leavened. Okay? Now the question is whether this may be done on the festival. Why not? On a regular festival, it can. Right, but on the festival of Passover you’re not burning it, you’re baking it. You bake it in a way that you won’t be able to eat. All you want is simply that it not become leavened so that you won’t violate “it shall not be seen.” Okay? So Or Sameach says as follows: “One must understand that the primary labor of cooking and baking that existed in the Tabernacle was in a way that the bread would be eaten by means of the baking.” Right? When do you violate the labor of baking? When you bake bread in order to eat it, right? “And so too the cooking of dyes was needed for the work of the dyes. But here there is no need for baking, and baking is of no use for bread destined to be burned”—right? In the end this has to be burned, since it is impure priestly dough. I bake it in order ultimately to burn it; I don’t bake it in order to eat it, “for whether it is bread or dough, it is destined to be burned. Rather the baking is only so that it not remain dough and become leavened. If so, this is labor not needed for its own sake,” because you are basically baking it not in order to eat it but in order not to have leaven. “Like one who digs a pit and needs only its dirt.” He doesn’t need the pit, only the dirt. “For the need is not for the essence of the baking, but only that it not remain dough. And like one who carries out from a house to the public domain”—right? For example, one who carries a corpse from a house to the public domain. So if he carries it from the house to the public domain, fine? The carrying-out is actually done so that it not be in the house, not so that it be in the public domain. So that’s labor not needed for its own sake. I remove it from here not so that it be there, but so that it not be here. What in the laws of set-aside is called “for the sake of its place.” Okay? “Since the carrying-out is not needed for its own sake; it is of no need to the corpse at all, only that it not be in the house. And see Tosafot in chapter ‘HaMatznia’ page 94b; according to how they explained the reason for labor not needed for its own sake, so too here.” So this baking of the bread is basically labor not needed for its own sake. And if so, maybe one can do it in order not to violate “it shall not be seen.” “And in this,” says Or Sameach, “it seems proper to discuss that what we spoke of regarding something not needed, that it is because it is not a repair—meaning, not only destructive action is exempt, but anything that is neither a repair nor damage is exempt.” What is he saying? Anything that is not repair and is not damage is also exempt. Right? He is basically claiming that repair is what creates liability, not that damage is what exempts. Therefore, if there is something that is neither repair nor damage, that too is exempt, because in the end there was no repair here. And in order to incur liability you need repair—that is Tosafot’s view. Right? It basically fits what I said about Tosafot. Okay? Why? Because he is basically saying that if there was no repair, no transgression was committed—not that damage exempts you. Okay? It depends on there being repair in reality. In reality. “But regarding labor not needed for its own sake, even in a case where he truly does not need it, but in his own mind thinks that he needs it, it is still considered needed for its own sake, as Tosafot wrote in tractate Shabbat 106.” What is he saying? He is saying there is a difference between the question whether the thing is destructive, and the question whether the labor is not needed for its own sake. And this is a sugya that will accompany us throughout this whole topic: what is the relation between destructive action and not needed for its own sake? Because they overlap tremendously—similar, maybe identical—and we’ll have to understand this. Not on the conceptual level I spoke about earlier, that both are “not a prohibition,” but literally in the definition. Meaning, every case of destructive action is basically labor not needed for its own sake. So it’s not clear why we need this category of destructive action at all, at least according to Rabbi Shimon. Okay, so Or Sameach claims that if a person thinks he needs the thing—he’s mistaken, in fact he doesn’t really need it, but that’s what he thinks—okay? Then regarding labor not needed for its own sake, this is considered labor that is needed for its own sake, even though in practice he won’t be able to use it. Say a person does something with an item from which benefit is forbidden, in order to give it to his dog. He thinks it’s permitted to give it to his dog, but really it’s forbidden. An item from which benefit is forbidden may not be given to a dog. Okay? But he doesn’t know; he thinks it’s allowed. So if he did this act in order to give it to his dog, that is called labor needed for its own sake, even though it’s forbidden to give it to his dog—it didn’t help. The need was never realized in the end. Why? Because what determines it is the person’s own thinking. The person’s thought determines whether it is needed for its own sake or not. But with destructive action, says Or Sameach, no. With destructive action, what determines it is reality, not the person’s thought. And if reality is—as you remember what I said at the beginning of the class—if reality is that this doesn’t help you, then it doesn’t matter that you thought it would help you. Okay? And this very much resembles what I said at the beginning of my remarks, that destructive action really differs from labor not needed for its own sake in that it is determined by the object-character and not by the person. He is basically saying the question is what the actual reality is; it doesn’t matter what you think. By contrast, with labor not needed for its own sake, what matters is what you think. Remember, this is Rabbi Shimon: Rabbi Shimon goes after what people think. Okay? Therefore it doesn’t matter if in fact you are mistaken and your thought is incorrect. If that is what you think, it is called needed for its own sake. “As Tosafot wrote in Shabbat 106, regarding one who wounds and needs it for his dog, that one who wounds and kindles with objects from which benefit is forbidden, believing he can give it to his dog…” Right? Someone does wounding or kindling with an item from which benefit is forbidden. Why? Because he wants to give it to his dog. Fine? So is he liable or exempt? He says this is called labor needed for its own sake. Why? After all, in practice he cannot give it to his dog, right? He cannot give it to his dog. So ostensibly this should have been labor not needed for its own sake. “And nevertheless…” But if he thought he could give it to his dog, then it is indeed needed for its own sake. Because “needed” or “not needed for its own sake” is determined by what he thinks, not by reality itself. But with destructive action, no. With destructive action it depends on whether you damaged, meaning: did you in reality repair or not repair? This is exactly parallel to what I said at the beginning of my remarks. “If so, even if we say that among the total dough there is one loaf that is not fit for him”—right, that separated piece of priestly dough—“nevertheless it is considered needed for its own sake, since he thought that if one of them were baked well he would eat it and separate another one. But if we say that he would not violate ‘it shall not be seen’ even if the dough became leavened, then this was not needed for the separated dough at all,” because there the baking repaired nothing at all, “and it is considered destructive action.” Right? True, it is needed for its own sake because he thought it was a repair, but from the standpoint of the laws of destructive action it is not considered repair; it is considered destructive action. Because regarding destructive action, what determines it is reality, not what you thought. Okay? “But if we say that there is a repair here in that it did not remain dough and did not become leavened so as to violate ‘it shall not be seen,’ then it is still labor not needed for its own sake.” To this one may properly reply: since he believed he needed it for eating, then it is indeed needed for its own sake. If he thinks he will be able to eat it, then it is needed for its own sake. He makes a very interesting distinction between labor not needed for its own sake and destructive action: destructive action is determined by objective reality—if you repaired, you repaired; if you damaged, you damaged; it doesn’t matter what you think about it. And labor not needed for its own sake is determined by what you think about the matter. Okay? So you see two things here. First, he says that something with neither repair nor damage still has the exemption of destructive action. That is like Tosafot, right? It basically means that repair is needed in order to incur liability, not that damage is what exempts. Second, he says that destructive action depends on the objective state and not on the person’s thinking. And in that it differs from labor not needed for its own sake. Now I remind you that this too fits Tosafot’s view, because Rashi, who disagreed with Tosafot in Bava Kamma page 35, said that destructive action is not like labor not needed for its own sake or unintentional action, but rather like inadvertent transgression. Right? Unless one adopts your comment—that I’m setting aside. It’s like inadvertent transgression. Basically there is a prohibition here. Okay? And Tosafot says: what do you mean? There is no prohibition here at all. So all along, it seems that what Or Sameach says here basically fits the direction of Tosafot, the position of Tosafot, which really is the more straightforward one. The more straightforward, accepted position is that if you act destructively, then you did not commit a transgression. It’s not that they exempt you. A practical difference would be if there is neither repair nor damage—all the things we discussed earlier, “he receives the greater liability,” and so on. Okay? He says—and this is just an interesting note—“And indeed we find in Tosafot at the beginning of tractate Beitzah, where they explained that the reason one does not trap on a festival is lest he trap non-kosher fish, which are not for the need of food preparation.” Why is fishing on a festival prohibited—putting a net into the water on a festival? He says: because maybe you’ll catch non-kosher fish, and then this is not food preparation; you can’t eat them. Okay? “And they wrote that if so, it would be labor not needed for its own sake.” Labor not needed for its own sake—you are basically doing that prohibited act because the prohibited act is really to catch kosher fish, and in the end what you actually did was trap non-kosher fish. Okay? Because of something they hold to be at the Torah level. No, the opposite: they ask, after all this is labor not needed for its own sake, so what is the whole discussion? Because you did it in order to catch kosher fish, but in the end this net caught non-kosher fish. But why isn’t this considered that you intended all of it? Yes, you perform the prohibited act, but for a different purpose—the purpose of kosher fish and not the purpose… The prohibited act is putting a trap in the sea, putting the net in the sea, right? Because that is trapping. Okay? But in the end, you did it for another purpose. “For the purpose of kosher fish,” and not the purpose… The act prohibited is to put the net in the sea; that is trapping. But if in the end it caught non-kosher fish, the question is why isn’t that labor not needed for its own sake? Actually one could argue about it. That is the claim, and in fact it is apparently almost explicit in the Talmud that such a thing is called labor not needed for its own sake. The Talmud regarding the infant there in tractate Menachot, for those who know—not important right now—someone who spread a net for fish and brought up an infant. Right? The Talmud there discusses labor not needed for its own sake. In any case, he says here: “If he trapped non-kosher fish, though he did not intend to trap them, this is labor not needed for its own sake, even though in his mind he thought that he would trap kosher fish.” This is difficult for what he said above. After all, above he said that everything depends on the person’s thinking. But now the person himself thought he would catch kosher fish, right? In the end non-kosher fish came up. In reality it didn’t happen, but from the standpoint of the person’s mind, he put the net there to catch kosher fish, right? So why is this called labor not needed for its own sake? According to Tosafot, doesn’t the person’s thinking determine whether it is needed for its own sake or not, rather than reality itself? Ostensibly, this is difficult for what Tosafot said above. Fine, it’s a rather weak difficulty. “And if we say that Tosafot do not disagree with one another, then to reconcile Tosafot with each other one must say: since at the time he spread the net it could have happened that kosher fish would come into the net, and his intention was not realized only because afterward they did not come into the net, then it is labor not needed for its own sake. Which is not the case with items from which benefit is forbidden that he kindled for his dog’s use: there the mistake was regarding the very matter of the kindling itself, which cannot be reversed.” Fine? This is a bit like what we saw in the classes on unintentional action, with an inevitable result looking backward and an inevitable result looking forward. Fine? Here there’s a situation. When I put the net in the water, no fish have yet come up. And I’ve already done my labor—I put the net in the water. At that stage, kosher fish could still come. Afterward it turned out that non-kosher fish arrived, meaning they came up. Okay? Such a thing is called labor not needed for its own sake even according to Tosafot. Why? Not because of the person’s state of mind. Not because of what he thought, but because in the end, when he put the net there, kosher fish really could have come. They simply didn’t come in the end. Later, they didn’t come—but they really could have come. When the person put the net down, he had no way to know what would happen in the future. That is not the same as someone who burns and needs it for his dog or something like that. Someone who burns an object from which benefit is forbidden and needs it for his dog. There, already now, if he knew the law, he would know that one may not give an item from which benefit is forbidden to a dog. He doesn’t know the law. Fine? Such a thing, says Tosafot, does not make the labor “needed for its own sake,” because you don’t know. But if something is wholly future-oriented, then it’s not a matter of your not knowing—it simply really isn’t settled yet. Meaning, what fish will enter the net later? Time will tell. This is like the distinction Rabbi Akiva Eiger makes—we saw it regarding unintentional action—Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s famous disagreement with the Taz. What about closing a chest with flies inside it? So the Taz says it is permitted. Why permitted? It’s unintentional action. I want to close the chest. Closing the chest may perhaps trap the flies, so I am trapping unintentionally. But yes, but that’s an inevitable result. If the flies are inside, they are certainly trapped. And the Taz says no, because you don’t know whether there are flies there. If there are flies, then they will certainly be trapped, but you don’t know whether there are flies there, so it is not an inevitable result. Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: not true. When something is not an inevitable result, that is when you drag a bench and maybe a furrow will be made and maybe not. That’s an inevitable result regarding the future; you don’t know what will happen. Here, you don’t know what is happening inside the chest right now. Either there is a fly or there isn’t. If you knew the true state of affairs and knew there was a fly inside, it would be a full inevitable result. Such a thing is called a doubtful inevitable result—which seems like an oxymoron. What do you mean, doubtful? If it’s doubtful, then it’s not inevitable. No, there is such a thing as a doubtful inevitable result. A doubtful inevitable result means that you have a doubt about the current state, and on one side it is an inevitable result, and on the other it isn’t. When does a doubt take something out of the category of inevitable result? When the doubt is about the future. You drag a bench and the question is whether it will make a furrow or not in the future. If there is doubt, that is called not an inevitable result. But if the doubt is about the past or the present, about the current state, that is called a doubtful inevitable result. Exactly the distinction of Or Sameach here. Exactly the same distinction. Fine. Actually, I could have made other distinctions here, because in my opinion this is not really compelled. There is intention in a general sense too—even if he puts down a net and starts thinking, it’ll catch this, it’ll catch that. You put down a net. No, that’s what he’s saying: the reasonable person thinks about it. It’s not impossible to ascribe intentions to a person. We’re talking about what a normal person thinks. You ascribe to the normal person the intention that he wants to catch these fish, wants to catch those fish—it’s a net. No, there’s no selection here. No, he thinks there will be kosher fish here. Maybe he doesn’t know there are non-kosher fish here. I don’t know exactly. No, there are lots of ways to distinguish. I think this distinction is very easy to make in a number of ways. Fine. So up to this point, basically, we’ve had a conceptual introduction with some initial illustrations. Okay? Let’s begin the sugya. The Mishnah in tractate Shabbat page 105—the main sugya—says as follows: “One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative, and all those who act destructively, are exempt. One who damages in order to repair, his measure is like that of one who repairs.” Fine? There are three parts in the Mishnah. In the opening clause: “One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative.” Right—someone tears because he is angry, venting his anger through tearing. Or he tears because of a dead relative, performs tearing over the dead. Okay? What is the law? Exempt. Exempt. One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative is exempt, and so too all destructive acts are exempt—not only this. Fine? Wait, before Maimonides—I’m talking about the Mishnah. Okay? So the first law is that one who tears in anger or over his dead relative is exempt. The second case: all destructive acts are exempt. Fine? On the face of it, this seems like two specific kinds of destructive action, and so too all other destructive actions. Okay? Although one could have read it differently. One could have said: one who tears in anger or over his dead relative is not destructive action at all. Why is he exempt? I don’t know—we’d have to think about that. And besides that, all destructive actions are also exempt. Fine? Two different laws. We’ll see in the Talmud why I’m sharpening that point here. Third part of the Mishnah: “And one who damages in order to repair, his measure is like one who repairs.” What is that? Those are the three exceptions, right? Tearing in order to sew, erasing in order to write, and demolishing in order to build. In all those cases, the labor is defined as labor even though in essence it is an act of damage. You tear, demolish, or erase—that’s destructive labor. But it is defined as labor—why? Because you do it in order to perform another labor that is constructive. Okay? The Mishnah says: these things—first of all, the exemption of destructive action does not apply to them, even though ostensibly you are damaging. The exemption of destructive action does not apply. Fine? These are the exceptions. Even though you are basically damaging, the exemption of destructive action doesn’t apply. Why? Because you’re really doing it for the sake of a future repair, and from our perspective that is defined as the repair of this labor. This is labor that contains repair. The repair is the future repair you are going to do. And the Mishnah adds: the measure—how much you need to tear in order to incur liability—is two stitches, because one who tears in order to sew, and with sewing the measure is two stitches; or in erasing in order to write two letters, and similarly with demolishing and building and so on. Okay? Those are the three parts of the Mishnah. The Talmud says: “But this raises a contradiction.” “One who tears in his anger, in his mourning, or over his dead relative is liable. And even though he desecrates the Sabbath, he has fulfilled the requirement of tearing.” Fine? There is a statement that one who tears in his anger… Fine. Now true, if he did this and committed a transgression, he nevertheless fulfilled the obligation of tearing. Fine? But that doesn’t interest us. What matters to us is just that he is liable. Because that seemingly contradicts the Mishnah, since in the Mishnah it says that all destructive actions are exempt. Right? And one who tears in his anger or over his dead relative, and likewise all such cases, is exempt. So the Talmud says: “His anger versus his anger is not difficult either. This is Rabbi Yehuda; that is Rabbi Shimon.” The source that says one who tears in his anger, in his mourning, or over his dead relative is liable—that is Rabbi Yehuda. And in the Mishnah, where it says one who tears in his anger and all destructive actions are exempt, that is Rabbi Shimon. “This is Rabbi Yehuda, who says one is liable for labor not needed for its own sake; that is Rabbi Shimon, who says one is exempt for labor not needed for its own sake.” We are talking now about one who tears in his anger or over his dead relative. At this stage, the Talmud does not mention the term “destructive action” at all, right? It does not appear here. It will come later. For now, it doesn’t appear. Here we have labor not needed for its own sake. You tear, and you tear not in order to sew, but in order to calm your anger, or you tear over your dead relative. Okay? So this is basically labor not needed for its own sake. Like one who digs a pit and needs not the pit but the dirt that comes out. You do the prohibited act, but for another purpose than the original purpose in the Tabernacle. Why? In labor not needed for its own sake. What did he tear? Tearing is forbidden on the Sabbath. Tearing is a labor. What? So here I’m saying if he doesn’t need… Why? He tore. On one hand he has a tear that is available for sewing, and on the other hand he calmed his anger. That’s exactly the point. That is labor not needed for its own sake. He tears not in order to sew, but in order to calm his anger, like one who digs a pit not for the pit but for the dirt. Of course there’s a purpose—he calmed his anger. What do you mean “there’s a purpose”? You’re saying there is nothing in the object. We’ll see that later. But for now, the Talmud says that basically this is labor not needed for its own sake. Not destructive action; that’s unrelated to destructive action. Tearing in anger is labor not needed for its own sake. Fine? Since that is so, when the Mishnah says that one who tears in his anger is exempt, that is Rabbi Shimon, who exempts labor not needed for its own sake. Now this statement—“one who tears in his anger, in his mourning, or over his dead relative is liable”—that is Rabbi Yehuda, who imposes liability for labor not needed for its own sake. At this stage, if so, I would say that there are basically two parts to the Mishnah. The first deals with the law of labor not needed for its own sake, and the second deals with the law of destructive action. Right? One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative—that is labor not needed for its own sake, for which he is exempt; that is Rabbi Shimon. And “all destructive acts are exempt” is due to destructive action. Two different laws. Okay? It’s a little strange, because they are brought together in one breath. It doesn’t even say: “One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative is exempt, and all destructive acts are exempt,” but rather: “One who tears in his anger or over his dead relative, and all destructive acts, are exempt.” It sounds much more like the same kind of exemption. And indeed this is destructive action. No, you could say that because it is over his dead relative or in his anger, maybe this is not destructive action, because there is some benefit to him from it. We’ll still see that—that is the continuation of the sugya. But I’m saying, first of all I’m looking at the language of the Talmud before I even start thinking about what it means. So there is a dispute here regarding labor not needed for its own sake. Okay? At this point I still have no idea what happens with destructive action. The Talmud says: “Granted that we have heard Rabbi Yehuda regarding repair—but regarding damage, have we heard him?” Here destructive action enters the sugya. Up until now this was labor not needed for its own sake. The Talmud says yes, you’re telling me Rabbi Yehuda is the author of that baraita which says: one who tears in his anger, in his mourning, or over his dead relative is liable. Right? Why? Because he imposes liability for labor not needed for its own sake. Fine—ordinary labor not needed for its own sake. But here it is destructive action. Here too Rabbi Yehuda should have exempted. Okay? “Granted that we have heard Rabbi Yehuda regarding repair—but regarding damage, have we heard him?” Rabbi Avin said: “This too is repair, for he provides satisfaction to his inclination.” Right? There is giving satisfaction to his Maker, and giving satisfaction to his inclination. So here he gives satisfaction to his inclination. Okay? What does that mean? So there’s no issue of damage here, but there is still the issue of labor not needed for its own sake. Right? Why is there no damage? Because there is a positive result here. I did this for some benefit; it calmed my rage, right? So it’s not destructive action. On the other hand, it is labor not needed for its own sake. Why? Because the standard tearer tears in order to sew, so he can sew it, right? Here he did it in order to calm his anger. That is like one who digs a pit and needs only its dirt. Meaning, the structure is like this: if in fact calming his anger were not here, or if it were not considered a benefit, or if that were not his purpose, then what would be here? Then it would be destructive action. Destructive action, not labor not needed for its own sake. Right? Now when there is the benefit of calming the anger, then what is it? Then it’s not destructive action because there is repair here, but it suddenly becomes labor not needed for its own sake. Right? Now there is room to discuss: what happens if I don’t have this calming of the anger, and then we said it is destructive action, right? Because I am basically tearing not in order to sew, but also not for any other purpose, because I’m not calming anger. So just—whatever, for no reason. Okay? So there is now room to ask why this is not also called labor not needed for its own sake. Why is it called destructive action? This too is labor not needed for its own sake. In fact, all the more so. Meaning, if you say that when I tear not in order to sew but for another purpose, that is labor not needed for its own sake and I am exempt for it—then if I tear not in order to sew but just for no purpose, then all the more so I should be exempt. Ah? For its own sake—say, for the need that existed in the Tabernacle—that’s a dispute among the medieval authorities. But here “for its own sake” means in order to sew; that is called “for its own sake.” So yes, there is a purpose here. But he doesn’t do it in order to sew. Labor needed for its own sake in the case of tearing is when you tear in order to sew. If you tear for another purpose, that is labor not needed for its own sake. So here it is not done for its own sake; it is labor not needed for its own sake. That is labor not needed for its own sake. Now I ask: if he calms his anger, then this is classic labor not needed for its own sake, right? There is no destructive action because there is repair here, right? But it is labor not needed for its own sake. Why? Because you basically did it not for the purpose that existed in the Tabernacle—in order to sew—but in order to calm the anger. So that I understand. What happens when I don’t do it in order to feed his anger? Just, whatever, just tearing. Okay? Then this is still not for the purpose that existed in the Tabernacle, because I’m not doing it in order to sew, but on the other hand I have no other need either, unlike calming anger. I would have said that in such a case all the more so he is exempt. Anyone who exempts labor not needed for its own sake would exempt here squared. Because in a case where you did it for some purpose, you did the act and there was a need for it—that’s more severe. Here you just do a pointless foolish act for which you have no need whatsoever—you should be exempt even more so. So I’m asking, then why do we need destructive action? Where is there destructive action? The Talmud says: granted, when he… meaning the Talmud says, if it’s not in order to calm the anger, then that really isn’t labor needed for its own sake; it’s destructive action. But if he wants to calm the anger, then that is labor not needed for its own sake and there is no exemption of destructive action here. Right? That I can understand. There is no exemption of destructive action because he isn’t damaging; he is repairing. And why is it labor not needed for its own sake? Because it is not the need of the Tabernacle; it is another need. But what happens when he does not do it in order to satisfy his anger? Even Rabbi Yehuda would exempt. By what definition? So I say: then the definition, on the face of it, is that this is destructive action and not labor not needed for its own sake. Now I ask why—it’s also labor not needed for its own sake. So the exemption of destructive action turns out to be unnecessary. “Let him derive it from there”—just exempt him already under labor not needed for its own sake. Ah, no—now there is room to discuss. According to Rabbi Shimon, who exempts labor not needed for its own sake, then all the more so he exempts here. But here we are speaking according to Rabbi Yehuda, and according to Rabbi Yehuda, labor not needed for its own sake does not exempt. Now there is room to discuss whether in something with no purpose at all, even Rabbi Yehuda would exempt—an extreme case of labor not needed for its own sake—and then even Rabbi Yehuda exempts. Or perhaps not. Therefore we need the exemption of destructive action. We need the exemption of destructive action because every destructive action is basically labor not needed for its own sake. Every destructive action is such a case. The only thing is: according to Rabbi Yehuda, labor not needed for its own sake by itself does not exempt. Therefore we need the exemption of destructive action to tell me that Rabbi Yehuda, in a case where it is also destructive action, though in principle labor not needed for its own sake would have required liability, nonetheless exempts. But according to Rabbi Shimon, who exempts labor not needed for its own sake, ostensibly the exemption of destructive action is unnecessary. We don’t need it. It is included within labor not needed for its own sake, all the more so. Maybe—I don’t know—perhaps the exemption of destructive action exists only for Rabbi Yehuda. The whole difficulty of destructive action in the Talmud here falls only on Rabbi Shimon. Okay, not the whole difficulty—it’s grasped here only regarding… we’ll see shortly on page 106, the Talmud suddenly transfers it to Rabbi Yehuda. All right, but here we’re in the first part of the Mishnah. So what’s the difference—not what is the basis of the exemption, but where is the case of pure destructive action? Meaning: there is no other exemption there—not labor not needed for its own sake, not unintentional action. Give me a case where it is labor needed for its own sake and intentional and everything is in order. Right, but it’s destructive. What? What sort of picture could there be? Any picture you think of is labor not needed for its own sake. Like someone burning wood—he damages the wood, and doesn’t need the ashes. Fine? So that is labor not needed for its own sake. He burns the wood not for the ashes, but why? Not even for another purpose, just pointless. So again, this is labor not needed for its own sake squared. So in truth destructive action is not substantially different; it is simply a more extreme case of labor not needed for its own sake. There is no case in which destructive action would be liable were it not for the law of destructive action. It will always be labor not needed for its own sake in any event, just according to Rabbi Yehuda. But according to Rabbi Shimon there is no such case. And that is the million-dollar question in this sugya: we need to understand how such a case is possible, and that will bring us back to all the introductions I gave—what is the relation between destructive action and labor not needed for its own sake, no labor, there is labor but there is an exemption, all the things we discussed earlier. All right, let’s stop here.