What Do Piglet, the Lonely King, and the Prohibition of “Lo Tasur” Have to Do with Each Other? (Column 443)
With God’s help
Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.
Some time ago I received an email from a Jew named Daniel Kaner, and this is what he wrote:
A few months ago I listened to your class, where you mentioned in a certain context Piglet’s sign from Winnie-the-Pooh: “The offender will be punished” — with no mention of the offense. Yesterday I saw Piglet’s sign at the Arena Mall in Herzliya:
He was referring to what I said in that class about the dispute between Rambam and Ramban on the commandment of “Lo Tasur” (“Do not deviate”), where I mentioned the sign that hung on Piglet’s house in A. A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh, which says: “The offender will be punished,” without specifying who the offender is or what one must do to be punished. When I asked, Kaner replied that in the sign’s surroundings there was no hint of what offense was at issue — meaning it really is Piglet’s sign (good thing enough time has passed and Milne’s copyright has expired).
Since I enjoyed this so much, I can’t resist writing a post to explain the deep meaning of this marvelous sign. May it be pleasant to the listener.
The Dispute Between Rambam and Ramban Regarding “Lo Tasur”
Halakhah assigns the Sages two kinds of roles: to legislate and to interpret. The interpretive role entails authority to determine interpretation and the derivation of the verses. The product of interpretation is a Torah-level law (de’oraita) determined by the Sages. This role is accompanied by authority — that is, the Sages possess the authority to determine that this is indeed the binding interpretation of the text. The legislative role entails authority to enact ordinances and decrees; the products of legislation are rabbinic laws (derabbanan).
As is well known, Rambam and Ramban disagree on how to understand the commandment “Lo Tasur” and on the source of authority to legislate. Rambam writes in several places that this verse is the source of the Sages’ authority both to interpret and to legislate. For example, in Hil. Mamrim 1:2 he writes:
“Anyone who does not act according to their instruction transgresses a negative commandment, as it is said, ‘Do not deviate from the word that they tell you, right or left.’ We do not administer lashes for this prohibition because it was given as a warning for a matter punishable by execution by the court, for any sage who issues rulings against their words is executed by strangulation, as it is said, ‘And the man who acts presumptuously…’ Whether these are matters learned by tradition (oral law) received person to person, or matters they derived by their own understanding through one of the hermeneutic principles by which the Torah is expounded and it appears to them that the matter is thus, or matters they made as a safeguard for the Torah and according to the needs of the time — namely, decrees, ordinances, and customs — each of these three categories we are commanded to obey; and one who transgresses any of them violates a negative commandment. As it says, ‘According to the Torah that they instruct you’ — these are the ordinances, decrees, and customs which they teach the public in order to strengthen the religion and repair the world; ‘and the judgment that they say’ — these are the matters they will learn from the law by one of the principles by which the Torah is expounded; ‘from every matter that they tell you’ — this is the received tradition passed from person to person.”
Thus, in his view, “Lo Tasur” is the source of the Sages’ authority both to derive and interpret the Torah (where the results are Torah-level laws)[1] and also to enact ordinances or issue decrees and safeguards (where the results are rabbinic laws).
Ramban, in his glosses to the First Root, cites Rambam’s sources where this view is spelled out, and then comments:
“Behold, the master builds a high wall around the words of the Sages, but it is like a broken breach, a leak in a lofty wall that suddenly will collapse; for it is an unsound view in most places in the Talmud. For according to him, one who uses an attached object [on Shabbat], such as leaning on a tree, or moving a needle from sun to shade on Shabbat, or saying to a non-Jew and having him do [work], or even taking an extra-long stride — all of these are transgressions of a positive and a negative commandment from the Torah, and he should be liable to forty lashes, except that he exempted him there (in Judges, Mamrim 1:2) because it is a prohibition that is given as a warning for a matter punishable by death at the hands of the court, for any sage who rebels against their words is executed by strangulation… And according to this view, he would be lashed according to the opinion in the Talmud that ‘a prohibition that is given as a warning for capital punishment is still lashed,’ as mentioned in ‘Mi She’heshikh’ (Shabbat 154b). And according to this view we should be extremely stringent with rabbinic matters, for they are all Torah; there is no distinction among them, and there is nothing in the Torah more severe than a shevut [rabbinic restriction] of theirs, except in matters of karet or capital crimes, not in matters of ordinary prohibitions; for all their words are both a negative and a positive commandment. But our Sages throughout the Talmud say the opposite, for they treat all rabbinic matters leniently…”
He argues that according to Rambam there should be no leniencies in rabbinic laws as compared to Torah laws, for in his view anyone who violates a rabbinic law thereby violates the Torah’s “Lo Tasur.” Thus, for example, doubtful cases of rabbinic law ought to be ruled stringently rather than leniently. Immediately afterward, Ramban demonstrates — with impressive erudition — sources throughout the Talmud showing that the Sages were lenient in rabbinic law more than in Torah law. Finally he proposes a possible explanation of Rambam’s view, and rejects it:
“And perhaps you will stubbornly say, according to the master, that when they said everywhere to be lenient in matters of the Scribes, it was with their waiver and condition, that they conditioned in the decrees and safeguards they made for the Torah, and likewise in their commandments, that we should proceed leniently in them in order to distinguish and separate between what is Torah law and what is their law — even though in all of them we are commanded by the Torah; and that the doubts in their matters were not truly fit to be permitted except because of this condition they made from the outset. But these are not acceptable words, nor sound in principle.”
He suggests that even according to Rambam, although all rabbinic laws are grounded in “Lo Tasur,” there is still room for leniency, since those who established the laws could also have chosen not to establish them; therefore, even if they prohibited something, they could set certain leniencies regarding it — “they said, and they said” (i.e., the mouth that forbade can permit). Yet Ramban claims this explanation is implausible (without explaining why).
After discussing Rambam’s view, Ramban begins to explain his own:
“It is explicitly stated in ‘Mi Shemeto’ (Berakhot 19b): ‘Great is human dignity, for it overrides a negative commandment in the Torah.’ Rav bar Sheva explained before Rav Kahana: ‘It refers to the negative commandment of Lo Tasur.’ They laughed at him. He said to them: ‘Lo Tasur is also Torah!’ Rav Kahana said to them: ‘A great man has said a word — do not laugh at him. All rabbinic matters they based upon Lo Tasur merely as a support, to strengthen them; but because of human dignity the Rabbis did not decree in that case.’ Here it is explained that this negative commandment of Lo Tasur is like the other negative commandments of the Torah; but their [rabbinic] words they supported upon this negative commandment only as an asmachta, a mere support for reinforcement, and there is no actual Torah warning inherent in that negative commandment with respect to their words…”
That is, “Lo Tasur” is indeed the basis for the Sages’ authority — but not with respect to legislation, i.e., not with regard to rabbinic laws (ordinances, decrees, and safeguards), for in those matters the law is more lenient than Torah law. So for what, then, is “Lo Tasur” said? What remains is interpretation. Ramban now explains this:
“In any case, the master’s generalizations are mistaken. But the clear and untainted truth is this: that we should make known that this negative commandment of Lo Tasur applies only to what they said in interpreting the Torah — such as matters expounded by gezerah shavah, bin’yan av, and the other thirteen hermeneutic principles by which the Torah is expounded, or by the meaning of the wording of the verse itself; and likewise to what they received as halakhah to Moses at Sinai, the Oral Torah. If they see that a thing is prohibited or permitted from the Torah according to the derivation of the verse or its interpretation, or a tradition from Moses our teacher — and he [the judge] sees the opposite — he is obligated to nullify his view and accept what they said.”
In his view, the Sages’ authority to interpret and derive the Torah is grounded in “Lo Tasur.” But their authority to legislate (i.e., to establish rabbinic law) has no source in the Torah. In this he disputes Rambam, who sees “Lo Tasur” as the source also for legislative authority.
The question that now arises is: according to Ramban, why must we obey the Sages? If, in his view, there is no source for their authority to enact and decree rabbinic law, then upon what, after all, does their authority rest?
A Bird’s-Eye View of the Rambam/Ramban Dispute: The Short Blanket
The picture that emerges here is very problematic — seemingly a “short blanket” that cannot cover both head and feet. Rambam maintains that the source of the Sages’ legislative authority (to establish rabbinic law) is “Lo Tasur,” but then one must explain why we find various leniencies in rabbinic law. Ramban, by contrast, precisely because of this, maintains that “Lo Tasur” cannot be the source of their authority to establish rabbinic law — only to interpret and derive the Torah. But in his view it remains unclear what does ground the Sages’ legislative authority.
RA”U, in his Kuntres Divrei Soferim, presses the question even further. According to Ramban, not only can we not base the Sages’ authority on “Lo Tasur,” we cannot base it on any other scriptural source either. For any source we bring from the Torah will convert violations of rabbinic law into violations of Torah law, thereby reviving Ramban’s difficulty with Rambam: why are rabbinic laws treated more leniently than Torah laws? Moreover, he writes there that sevara (reason) cannot serve as a source either, for sevara is de’oraita (as the Talmud often says: “Why do I need a verse? It is a matter of logic!”). (But see my article on sevarot, where I explained that the picture is not so simple.) If so, there cannot be any source — of any kind — for the Sages’ authority to legislate.
Ramban himself, in the passage quoted above, writes that rabbinic laws are supported by “Lo Tasur” only as an asmachta, not as an actual source. But an asmachta does not resolve our difficulty. If that verse is not a genuine source, what, then, is the real source? And if there is none, why obey them at all? An asmachta can accompany a Torah law that has some other solid grounding, or it can serve as a scriptural “support” for a rabbinic law that is based on a valid enactment or decree by a duly empowered court. But the asmachta itself is not a halakhic source.[2]
On the face of it, we have here an insoluble problem: any source we propose will trigger Ramban’s challenge (why leniencies in rabbinic law?), and if there is no source, we face the challenge of why to obey the Sages at all. This is the “short blanket,” and it seems there is no way to cover the whole body — that is, to present a picture that resolves all the difficulties regarding the Sages’ legislative authority. In my book Ruach HaMishpat and in my essay on the First Root in Yishlach Sharashav, I surveyed several approaches proposed by later authorities to address this difficulty, but none seems to heal it fully. There I explained that the only plausible way out is to adopt Rambam’s view together with Ramban’s proposed solution (“they said, and they said”). But we saw that Ramban himself did not adopt this solution (for reasons unknown), so at least on his view the difficulty remains. Moreover, if we find a solution to the short blanket — that is, a picture that resolves both difficulties even according to Ramban — then there will be no impediment to claiming that Rambam agrees with it as well (i.e., that there is no real dispute between them; perhaps it is only a misunderstanding, and in substance Ramban holds exactly as Rambam does).
The Acharonim’s Distinction in Rambam
In the first passage from Ramban that I quoted, he proves that according to Rambam, one who violates a rabbinic prohibition thereby violates a Torah-level negative commandment, since Rambam in Hil. Mamrim 1:2 explains why we do not administer lashes for “Lo Tasur”:
“Anyone who does not act according to their instruction transgresses a negative commandment, as it is said, ‘Do not deviate from the word that they tell you, right or left.’ We do not administer lashes for this prohibition because it was given as a warning for a matter punishable by execution by the court, for any sage who issues rulings against their words is executed by strangulation, as it is said, ‘And the man who acts presumptuously…,’ whether these are matters learned by tradition and are the Oral Torah, or matters derived by their understanding through one of the hermeneutic principles and it appears to them that the matter is thus, or matters made as a safeguard for the Torah and as the hour requires — that is, decrees, ordinances, and customs — each of these three categories we are commanded to obey; and one who transgresses any of them violates a negative commandment. ‘According to the Torah that they instruct you’ — these are the ordinances, decrees, and customs which they will teach the public to strengthen the religion and repair the world; ‘and the judgment that they say’ — these are the matters they will learn from the law by one of the principles by which the Torah is expounded; ‘from every matter that they tell you’ — this is the received tradition passed from person to person.”
He attributes the exemption from lashes to the rule that this is a prohibition “linked to a warning for capital punishment.”[3] It follows that, were it not for this, one would indeed receive lashes for “Lo Tasur,” even in cases where the person violated a rabbinic ordinance or decree. Ramban proves from here that in Rambam’s view, anyone who violates this prohibition (even by violating a rabbinic enactment) transgresses a Torah-level prohibition, and if not for the rule of “a prohibition linked to a warning for capital punishment,” he would even be liable to lashes.
This is a very novel claim and hard to square with the Talmudic sugyot. Simply put, the Talmud indicates that one who violates a rabbinic prohibition is not lashed for the very reason that it is rabbinic — irrespective of the rule about prohibitions linked to capital punishment.
Therefore several acharonim (see references in the Sefer HaMafte’ach in the Frankel edition ad loc.) have written that even Rambam does not mean to claim that anyone who eats poultry cooked in milk thereby violates a Torah-level prohibition. Rather, they maintain, only one who does so because he categorically rejects the Sages’ authority violates “Lo Tasur” on a Torah level. But if he does so because his appetite overcame him, then he has violated only a rabbinic prohibition. According to this approach, the “Lo Tasur” prohibition forbids principled rebellion against the Sages’ authority, but does not impose a Torah prohibition on every rabbinic infraction. On this reading, Rambam’s statement that one would have received lashes (were it not for the “linked to capital punishment” rule) applies only to such principled rebellion. An ordinary rabbinic violation would not be subject to lashes at all, since there is no Torah prohibition involved. This, of course, greatly narrows the dispute between Rambam and Ramban.
The Difficulty with This Distinction
This distinction makes sense as an understanding of “Lo Tasur.” But on further reflection one sees that it revives the very difficulty it sought to solve. If the verse “Lo Tasur” does not address ordinary violations, then whence the prohibition to do them? What is the basis for forbidding eating poultry with milk? Suppose I accept the Sages’ authority in principle, but I am tempted to eat poultry with milk because I very much desire it. These later authorities explain that even if I do so, I have not violated “Lo Tasur,” since I did not rebel in principle. If so, the obligation to refrain is not grounded in “Lo Tasur” (otherwise such an act would be a violation of “Lo Tasur”). Why, then, is eating poultry with milk forbidden?
Now Rambam ends up in exactly the same position as Ramban; it turns out that neither has explained the source of the duty to obey the Sages. I now wish to argue that Rambam must be joined to Ramban’s claim cited above: that the duty to obey rabbinic laws is grounded in “Lo Tasur” as an asmachta. We are left to explain how asmachta can change the picture, despite my earlier claim that an asmachta cannot serve as a true source.
Winnie-the-Pooh, The Little Prince, and “Lo Tasur”
Let us return to the distinction the later authorities make in Rambam, and look at the prohibition of poultry with milk. According to them, if I ate poultry with milk because I do not recognize the Sages’ authority, I violated “Lo Tasur.” But if I ate it only because my desire overcame me, I did not violate “Lo Tasur.” To resolve the problem — why obey at all? — I will add another, logical difficulty: We have seen that the command of “Lo Tasur” does not actually obligate me to obey the Sages; it only obligates me to recognize their authority in principle. I can do whatever I like, violate any rabbinic law I choose, so long as I recognize their authority in principle. But what is the meaning of recognizing an authority that tells me nothing? What is the meaning of recognizing the authority of some body without any obligation to obey any of its directives? Am I to pay lip service, reciting that I recognize the Sages’ authority and am entirely submissive to their orders, while at the same time allowing myself to violate them at will? This is a very strange demand, and certainly does not express obedience to the Sages’ authority. An empty authority is no authority. There is no such thing as authority that commands me without any duty on my part to obey those commands.
I now return to the sign mentioned at the beginning of the column. On Piglet’s cottage there is a sign, “The offender will be punished,” without specifying who the offender is or for what he is punished. Does that sign have any content? The managers of the Arena Mall in Herzliya apparently thought so, but I am curious to hear their explanation. Unless we define and clarify the offenses in question, the sign about punishing offenders is meaningless. Likewise, unless it is specified what I am to do and which commands I must obey, a command concerning the Sages’ authority is meaningless. Likewise, unless I actually obey their commands, my “commitment” to them is meaningless.
In this connection I am reminded of another children’s story, The Little Prince by Saint-Exupéry. Chapter Ten tells of the star on which the prince met the lonely king. I bring the entire chapter here, for it beautifully illustrates the problem we are dealing with (the text is taken from Project Ben-Yehuda, in Aryeh Lerner’s translation):
| Chapter Ten: The Planet of the Lonely King
The little prince reached the region of the asteroids “326,” “327,” “328,” “329,” and “330.” He began to visit them, in order to broaden his horizons and find something new to occupy his mind. On the first of these tiny stars there lived an old king. He was dressed in purple and ermine and sat upon a simple yet splendid throne. “Ha!” cried the king when he saw the little prince. “Here is a subject!” “How did the king recognize me if he had never seen me before?” wondered the little prince. He did not yet know that the world is very simple for kings, who see all men as subjects subject to them. “Come closer so that I may see you better!” said the king — who was delighted, since at last he had someone over whom to reign. The little prince glanced around for a place to sit and rest from the fatigue of the journey. But the king’s magnificent robe covered the whole planet and left no room. So he remained standing, and yawned from tiredness. “It is not proper to yawn in the presence of a king,” said His Majesty. “I forbid you to do so!” “I cannot help it,” replied the little prince, embarrassed. “I have traveled a long way and have not slept…” “In that case,” said the king, “I order you to yawn. For many years I have not seen anyone yawn, and yawns interest me greatly. Yawn again — that is an order!” “Your order frightens me… I can no longer…” murmured the little prince, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Well then,” said the king, “I order you to yawn sometimes and sometimes to…” The king stammered a bit, and his face showed irritation, for he demanded respect and could not bear to be disobeyed. Yet, since he was kind-hearted and considerate, he always tried to issue only commands that could reasonably be obeyed. “If I were to command one of my generals,” he liked to say, “to fly from flower to flower like a butterfly, or to compose a tragedy, or to turn into a seabird — and if the general did not carry out my order — whose fault would it be: the general’s or mine?” “If you please — Your Majesty,” said the little prince politely, “may I sit down?” “I order you to sit at once!” said the king, gathering a fold of his splendid robe with royal pride. The little prince marveled and said to himself: This planet is very, very small — over what, then, can this king reign? “Your Majesty,” said the little prince, “forgive me if I ask a question…” “I order you to ask!” the king hastened to reply. “Tell me, O king — over what do you rule?” “Over everything!” answered the king quite simply. “Over everything?” With a light gesture the king indicated his planet, the other planets, and all the stars and constellations. “Over all that?” marveled the little prince. “Yes — over all that!” replied the king. For he was not merely a local monarch but a universal sovereign. “And do the stars obey you?” “Certainly!” said the king. “They obey at once. I tolerate no insubordination!” The little prince was amazed at such authority. If he had possessed authority like that, he could have seen the sunset not merely forty-four times a day, but seventy-two, or a hundred, or even two hundred — and all without moving his chair! He was saddened as he remembered his small, abandoned planet. Then he ventured to ask the king for a favor: “I should like to see a sunset… If it please Your Majesty — command the sun to set…” “If I were to command a general,” said the king, “to flit from flower to flower like a butterfly, or to write a melancholy drama, or to turn into a seabird — and if that general did not carry out the order — whose fault would it be: the general’s or mine?” “Yours!” replied the little prince firmly. “Right!” cried the king. “One must demand from each only what he can perform. Authority is grounded in reason. If you command your people to throw themselves into the sea, they will rise up in rebellion. I am entitled to obedience because my orders are reasonable.” “And my sunset?” reminded the little prince, who, having asked a question, never let it go. “You shall have your sunset — I will demand it with all my authority. But, according to the wisdom of my administration, I prefer to wait until the conditions are favorable.” “When will that be?” asked the little prince. The king consulted a thick volume — a timetable — and said: “It will be… very soon… this evening, at around 7:40. Then you will see with your own eyes how they obey me!” The little prince yawned again. He regretted the sunset he had missed, and was beginning to grow somewhat bored. “What have I to do here?” he said to himself. “I shall continue on my way!” “Do not leave!” said the king, who swelled with pride at having a subject. “Do not leave — I will appoint you minister!” “Minister of what?” “Minister of… justice!” “But there is no one here to judge!” “That is not known to me,” said the king. “I have not yet surveyed my realm. I am very old. There is no room for a carriage, and I am not strong enough to walk…” “I have looked carefully,” cried the little prince, casting a glance to the other side of the planet, “and there is no one there either…” “In that case,” said the king, “you shall judge yourself — and that is the hardest thing of all. It is harder to judge yourself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself well, it will prove that you are truly wise.” “That is true,” said the little prince. “But I can do that anywhere; I do not need to live on this planet specifically…” “Hmm… hmm…” said the king. “I believe that somewhere on my planet there is an old rat. I hear him at night. You can judge that rat. From time to time you can condemn him to death, and thus his life will depend on your justice. But each time you must grant him a pardon — we must be economical with him, for he is the only rat we have.” “I do not like to condemn to death,” said the little prince, “and I think I must continue on my way.” “No!” said the king. The little prince had made ready to depart, but he did not wish to sadden the old king. He turned back and said: “If Your Majesty truly wishes to be exactly obeyed, he could give me a reasonable order — for example, to depart from here within one minute. I think the conditions are favorable…” The king made no reply. The little prince hesitated for a moment; then he sighed, bade the king farewell, and set out on his journey. “You shall be my ambassador!” the king called after him with all the dignity of a monarch. “How strange are the ways of grown-ups,” thought the little prince as he went on his way. |
Here, too, the same insight emerges as from Piglet’s sign: there is no meaning to abstract authority without a concrete duty to obey the commands of the authority-holder.
The Meaning of Asmachta
We can now return to explaining Rambam’s and Ramban’s views, and see how we can “lengthen our short blanket.” When the Torah commands us, “Lo Tasur,” it truly intends only to prohibit rebellion against the Sages’ authority. But there is no meaning to the Sages’ authority and to a prohibition on rebelling against it if there is no duty to obey the Sages’ commands. It cannot be that I do not rebel against their authority, yet allow myself to violate all their directives. From here it follows that the very existence of this verse implicitly presupposes a duty to obey the Sages’ orders. Without that, the command “Lo Tasur” would lose its meaning. Note well: this does not mean that anyone who violates a rabbinic directive thereby transgresses the Torah’s “Lo Tasur.” Not at all. The verse forbids only principled non-compliance (rebellion, i.e., committing an offense out of denial of their authority), but at the same time it indirectly reveals that there must be some sort of duty to obey their specific directives. Were it not so, their abstract authority would be meaningless.
The conclusion is that “Lo Tasur” does not command us, for example, not to eat poultry with milk; rather, it forbids eating poultry with milk out of principled rebellion against the Sages who prohibited it. Yet from that command we infer indirectly that eating poultry with milk is prohibited, and consequently we learn that there is a prohibition even when one eats poultry with milk “merely” out of desire. One who eats poultry with milk has not violated “Lo Tasur,” for the verse does not command that; but the verse does implicitly presuppose that such eating is forbidden. That prohibition is what we call a rabbinic prohibition, and indeed it is lighter.
Lengthening the Blanket
In this way, the verse “Lo Tasur” truly serves as an asmachta that teaches the duty to obey the Sages’ commands. But unlike ordinary asmachtot, here there is no need for a separate source parallel to the asmachta. This is a special kind of asmachta, for the verse “Lo Tasur” indirectly reveals that such a duty exists, even though it does not explicitly command it.
To sharpen the point, in the books cited above I contrasted “Lo Tasur” with the prohibition “Lo Yachel Devaro” (“He shall not profane his word”) concerning vows. If a person vows not to eat bread, then, should he eat bread, he has violated the Torah’s “Lo Yachel.” The general command “Lo Yachel Devaro” is a general statement that becomes specified and applies separately to each particular vow. I called that relationship “specification.” By contrast, the relationship between “Lo Tasur” and a particular rabbinic command is not one of specification but of asmachta (what I there called “branching”). The difference is that “Lo Yachel Devaro” does not speak only of eating out of principled denial of the validity of vows, but simply forbids violating vows. But “Lo Tasur” speaks of subordination to an authority, and subordination by its nature addresses only the general duty to obey. As we have seen, however, from that there branch off prohibitions for one who violates specific rabbinic directives such as poultry with milk, and the like.
Now all the difficulties are resolved: we have a source for the duty to obey every rabbinic directive — yet this is not a Torah prohibition, so doubts are ruled leniently and there are no lashes (unless one violates out of principled denial of the Sages’ authority). We also understand why “Lo Tasur” functions as an asmachta, and nevertheless suffices as a grounding for rabbinic prohibitions.
Moreover, since this is the only way I can see to lengthen the short blanket — that is, to answer all the problems in the sugya without leaving any uncovered — it is reasonable that both Rambam and Ramban agree. If I am correct, then their dispute is only apparent. It seems that Ramban simply did not understand that Rambam, too, means that “Lo Tasur” is only an asmachta from which rabbinic prohibitions branch, and not a standard Torah source from which they are specified.
[1] Admittedly, Rambam’s view in the Second Root is that the product of a derivation is rabbinic law, in contrast to the view of virtually all other early authorities — especially Ramban (in his glosses to the Second Root). I will not enter that here.
[2] This remains true even if we adopt Ritva’s view (his Hiddushim to Rosh HaShanah 16a) about asmachtot, that an asmachta is not merely a mnemonic device but an expansion of the written law according to its spirit. Even so, if the result is not the law actually written in the verse, its force is only because the Sages extended the verse by way of asmachta — and the question “why obey them?” remains.
[3] Incidentally, this is not the common meaning of that term. Usually it means that if witnesses saw someone about to commit a sin punishable by death, and they warned him for lashes, he is not lashed because the penalty for that prohibition is death and not lashes. Here Rambam uses “a prohibition linked to a warning for capital punishment” differently: a prohibition for which there exists some situation incurring capital punishment never incurs lashes in any other situation. Thus with “Lo Tasur,” since the rebellious elder (a zaken mamre) who violates it is liable to death, the ordinary person who violates it is not lashed.
You explain that the verse of La Tesur indirectly reveals that there is an obligation not to eat chicken in milk. But again the question arises, if the verse does not command me - then who does? What does it mean that it only indirectly reveals or assumes that there is such an obligation, if it does not command me to do so?
In order for a prohibition to be created, a command is needed. Here there is no command, but there is a revelation that there is a prohibition. Therefore, there is no Law of Torah here, but it is clear that it is forbidden. For example, there are verses about moral behavior and the inner righteousness of the law (and you will do what is right and good, you will be holy) that are not commandments but revelations.
In grammar, too, a distinction is made between a commandment and an indicative sentence. The sentence: God would have you keep the Sabbath, is not a commandment but a revelation. The verse: Keep the Sabbath! is a commandment.
Thank you. And what is the validity of the prohibition if not the command? Is it like the obligation to morality, which we are obligated to even without being commanded to do so?
It is similar. There it is written explicitly, but in the form of an imperative. And here it is not written explicitly, but is learned by implication.
A. If we learn *from the verse* that there is an obligation to listen to the words of the sages, then how is this different from the doctrine of preaching from which we learn obligations from the Torah (and only with regard to punishment in some of the doctrines there is no punishment from the law) without there being a direct verse for this commandment, such as the commandment of Simchat Pesach, which is learned by inference from Simchat Atzeret, is the detection of an implicit assumption weaker than the inference from its meaning?
B. Does this mechanism of branching exist in other places in the Torah or only with regard to the authority of the sages. If it does not exist, then is there any idea why throughout the rest of the Torah God did not use this mechanism to reveal His will.
[And indeed, in principle, my mind does not at all grasp the differences between will and command, whether on the part of the Almighty who wills or on the part of the person who obeys, and even a division between different strengths of will does not seem to me to be a relief, but in this you have already written to me threefold in counsel and knowledge and sealed with a ring and there is no more to answer]
A. It really is not different. That is why Maimonides writes in the second root that sermons are in the status of the words of the scribes.
B. There are other places like this. See my article on the understanding and will of God: https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%A6%D7%95%D7%95%D7%94-%D7%A1%D7%91%D7%A8%D7% 90-%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%A6%D7%95%D7%9F-%D7%94-%D7%A2%D7%99%D7%95%D7%9F-%D7% 91%D7%A9%D7%99%D7%A2%D7%95%D7%A8-%D7%95%D7%90%D7%95%D7%A4%D7%9F-%D7%94
A. The Rambam had a doubt about the Korah? For example, he had a doubt about whether the commandment of the joy of Passover was fulfilled, if it was learned by reasoning. That is, in this regard, the Rambam did not command and forbade doubt, as in any doubt of the Torah, from their words.
I think not. The Ramban understood that it did. But a distinction must be made between a sermon and this reference. The sermon indirectly produces a command, whereas here there is only a revelation that there is a prohibition and not really a command. I am sorry, but I must return to this distinction between a will and a command.
But why and whence does one only reveal and the other create? A priori it would seem that a teaching quality that creates has less power than a teaching quality that reveals (identifying an implicit assumption), right?
This is not a distinction between creator and revealer. This distinction is between two types of sermons, and it depends on the question of whether the law existed before. In this sense, this interpretation of ”La Tesur” is creative and not revealing.
The sermon “Fear the Lord your God’ including תאח”ח, teaches that the expansion of the verse also requires fear of תאח”ח. There is a command here that is revealed in the sermon. But the interpretation of “La Tesur” does not reveal that the verse prohibits poultry in milk, but rather reveals that there is an additional category of prohibitions on what the sages command. Who prohibits? The will of God, but not the Torah (not a command).
What about the analytical-synthetic axis after the interpretation of the verse itself? Do not *interpret* to a principled authority. Now comes the new dimension of the sermon, “identifying implicit assumptions,” and reveals to us, seemingly completely analytically, even if on a theological track, that there is a desire that it is obligatory to always obey the sages. This is a creative sermon in the sense that the law was truly known to us only from the sermon, but it is an analytical creation (a revealing sermon). When we learn an obligation by inference (or in the plural from the word “the”), then it is a synthetic creation (a regular creative sermon). And a reference in a literal sense (a confirming sermon) is another case in which the analytical-synthetic axis is irrelevant. Is that true?
The question is what does it reveal. If it reveals that there is a different type of obligation, then it is not necessary that it will be a Torah obligation. It is possible for a verse to reveal analytically the existence of a rabbinical obligation. Just as a verse can reveal to us some fact (since there is an obligation to fear God, it is proven that God exists). Even if the inference is analytical, there is no necessity that there will be an identity between the character of the revealer and the character of the one being revealed.
Do we know that here it is a different type of obligation because of the nature of the inference (an analytical inference that reveals a hidden assumption, a branching assumption, always produces obligations of a different type) or is it possible that such an analytical inference would produce an obligation from the regular Torah?
When the nature of the inference is an interpretive sermon or in the measure of the sermon, like the rabbinic (if it is from the Torah) and like the inference, then the nature of the inference seemingly dictates that it will be an obligation from the regular Torah.
I think in principle yes. There may be a situation where indirect branching would produce the same type of imperative, but I can't think of an example right now.
Maybe when we learn the opposite of a verse, it is a branching (we discover that the verse assumed something specific) that creates a normal type of obligation?
This seems clear to me. But on the surface, it is a branching off like a regular midrash (because a midrash is also a branching off), and then there is nothing new in it.
Why is this a branching like a regular midrash (an expansion of the verse in some way, everything that somehow stems from it). Ostensibly, it is in no way possible to say that the opposite is an expansion of the verse or stems from it. We can only say that we understand that the verse implicitly implied a different obligation.
This is not an extension, but it is an inference that is similar in nature to an extension inference. A type of midrash. Not all aspects of the midrash are extensions. For example, in general and particular aspects there are also aspects of reduction. Two texts that deny each other are not an extension.
Okay Sami, here's the expansion. Why isn't reverse learning a mechanism for detecting hidden assumptions without a command?
1) If we learn the prohibition of eating chicken in milk indirectly, why wouldn't it be a prohibition from the Torah? (At least according to the Ramban, even the sermons of the Sages are considered prohibitions from the Torah).
In other words, I didn't really understand what the chronology is according to you of the prohibitions of the rabbis? The prohibition of eating chicken in milk comes and teaches us (indirectly) that it is forbidden to eat chicken in milk, but how can it teach us this, since the Sages had not yet renewed this law at the time of the giving of the Torah?
I understood that the prohibition of eating chicken in milk prohibits a fundamental rebellion against the authority of the Sages, that is perfectly fine, but how does it prohibit a specific rabbinical prohibition?
2) It is not exactly related to the Torah, why didn't Luken look at the prohibition of eating chicken in milk from the consideration of a prohibition in general?
1. See the thread above us here (regarding the sermons). “You shall not depart” teaches that there is a prohibition against transgressing what the Sages have determined. And this is of course only when they have determined, and not everything exists in the giving of the Torah.
I explained in the thread how it prohibits.
2. I brought up that according to the Maimonides, it is not the one who was cut off for the warning of death in the synagogue.
1. I'll look into it further
2. This is the comment itself, why do we need to reach this consideration? There is something simpler and easier to implement "not in general"
But this is not a general prohibition. This prohibition only prohibits one thing: to disobey the sages. What do the sages say? Whatever they decide to say. We are not talking about many different prohibitions here. Even a prohibition on a vow that is detailed for all vows is not a general prohibition.
On the 11th of September (Barbara Tuchman's 110th birthday)
Regardless of the discussion about ‘La Tsur’, it seems on the surface that the sign warns that since there are security cameras in the place –, any criminal of any kind is expected to be punished since there is a ‘all-seeing eye’, and there have already been many cases where criminals have been caught and innocent people have been acquitted due to being filmed on security cameras.
Best regards, Hasdai Bezalel Duvdevani Kirshen-Kwas
It seems that the Da'un, who simply did not explain what the offense for which the offender would be punished, believed that logic requires that a certain thing is forbidden, and everyone should understand in their mind that it is not appropriate to do it. Therefore, there is no need for a commandment to determine that this is an offense, since it is a "black flag" on it. For example, there are the "Seven Commandments of the Children of Noah", which even those who do not know the commandments of Moses are supposed to observe "from the bottom of their hearts".
With blessings, Oth Yifron Nefshetim HaLevi
Another type of obligation teaches us the ‘lonely king’, who authorizes his ‘minister of justice’ to both judge and pardon. The right of pardon granted to a minister shows that he is the source of the secondary legislation he makes. He is the one who commanded and he is the one who can waive.
And this is not obvious. In our country, for example, ministers and other governmental authorities have the authority to enact ‘secondary legislation’, but whoever violates their regulations will be tried as a criminal in the courts of the state and the minister who amended it has no authority to delay criminal proceedings or pardon the violator of his regulation, since the ‘secondary regulation’ was part of the law of the state.
On the other hand, the ‘lonely king of the world’ He gave the leaders of the states in his commandments the commandments of ‘Laws’, the authority to be the ‘source of law’ and not just the ‘representatives’ of the chief king, because ’Dina de Malchuta’ fulfills a different need than the law of the Torah. The laws of the Torah are ‘royal decrees’ of the Creator of the world whose will is ‘determined and enduring’.
In contrast, ‘Dina de Malchuta’ is intended to arrange social life so that it brings maximum comfort and well-being to human society, and therefore must be flexible. Therefore, the ‘Minister of Justice’ is authorized to severely punish those who violate the rules of society, but he is also authorized to grant them leniency because it is essential to society.
If among the nations the authority to legislate is vested in the kings, in Israel this authority is vested in the teachers of the Torah and its authorized interpreters. They know more than anyone the wisdom and will of the Giver of the Torah, and therefore they are the ones who are worthy of enacting autonomous “subsidiary laws.”
With greetings, Hanoch Hanach Feinschmecker-Palti
In the book of Proverbs, there is a law and a law in the Bible,
The Ramban explains that the commandment of "be holy" obliges a person to expand the commandments of the Torah, whether by "making a reservation for the Torah" and withdrawing "from luxury and ugliness" or by "going beyond the law" as a commandment of the Torah "and doing what is right and good."
In this way, it can be said that just as the individual is commanded to impose restrictions and expansions on himself in order to fulfill the commandment of "be holy" Thus, it is incumbent upon the leadership of the public to impose restrictions and expansions on the public so that it may be worthy of the name of a “holy nation.”
Even what is stated in Moses, “There he gave them a law and a statute,” is explained by the Ramban as a secondary legislation whose purpose is to bring the people to proper behavior: “To endure hunger and thirst and to call upon the Lord in them, not through complaint, and laws by which they will live, to love one another and to behave according to the advice of the elders, and to be modest in their dwellings,” and to conduct themselves in peace with those who come into the camp, and moral admonitions, so that they may not be like the camps of the wicked, who commit every abomination and are not ashamed.”
And what is said in Joshua ‘And he established a law and a statute in Shechem’, the Ramban interprets: ‘They are not the laws of the Torah and the statutes, but the customs and the settlement of the states, such as “the conditions that Joshua stipulated” and the like’.
It could perhaps be said that the ’Torah’ is the act of the sovereign legislator, while the ’Rabbin’ are the act of the pedagogue who educates, who guides his students with straight guidance that will bring them to the desired goal – to be ‘a kingdom of priests and a holy nation’.
With blessings, Hanoch Hanach Feinschmer-Palti
In paragraph 4, line 1
And so it is said in Joshua ‘And he established for him a law…
[Even in David we found ‘establishing a law and a judgment’ in the sense of a social regulation, it is a regulation ‘because as a share he went down to war and sat on the vessels – together they would share’, about which it is said: ‘And it was from that day onward that he established it as a law and a judgment for Israel to this day’ (1 Samuel 30:24-25).
With blessings, Hafs Palti
To a good extent, Parashat Yaishlach Rav showed that the verse of Gid Hanesha does not constitute a commandment against the prohibition of Gid Hanesha, but rather an indication of the existence of the prohibition, as well as in the case of a woman's head covering.
And he stated there in the name of the Rabbi that every halakhic mitzvah or prohibition has two different dimensions: obedience/rebellion - correction/defect.
Whoever commits a transgression or performs a mitzvah does two things in doing so. When the Torah informs us that a certain action is harmful, then it is clear that it expects us not to do it. However, if there is no commandment here, whoever transgresses it will not be rebelling against a commandment of the Torah, but will only be in the dimension of defilement.
I heard in a class on Sabbath from Rabbi Rimon that, similar to the practice of "teshvot" in the law of Shabbat, from which we also learn about the prohibitions of the rabbis on Shabbat according to the Maimonides (shabbats. And we must discuss how they differ from any other rabbinical prohibition), even when violating one or two rabbinical prohibitions, the rabbis do not violate "not to deviate." But when they violate a critical mass (wholesale) of rabbinical prohibitions that show disrespect for the sages in general, then they do violate them. This is a qualitative criterion from which quantity is derived. He said that even in shabbats, when they violate one or two, it still does not cancel the positive commandment of "teshvot," but when they violate a critical mass, then they cancel the positive commandment of teshvot. This is similar to a situation where a person commits a crime out of disgust and then also commits a desecration of God (according to the Maimonides). Usually, such transgressions are initially committed out of submission to the urge (to appetite), but after a while, it is as if the leash has been loosened from the perspective of the perpetrator, and then he observes it as if that prohibition did not exist. From that moment on (a critical mass of transgressions. “Because a person committed a crime and then repeated it, etc.) he already commits a desecration of God (not necessarily in this situation that he becomes converted to an appetite for that crime, but I don't know when that will happen and maybe there really is no difference)
Forgive me, these are nonsense. There is no permission anywhere to commit a “little” offense, when the Sages forbade a mukta they meant this. The mass does not matter at all, and I am not talking about “if you did give your words to the lessons”; what is this mass and how do we measure it?
Maimonides repeats his method here in many places that the Torah gave power to the Sages to define the vague prohibitions of the Torah, but they remain rabbis – only rabbis whose essence is from the Torah, what Maimonides calls “words of scribes” or “words of Kabbalah” (Yechud, Kiddushi Kesef, Chol HaMoed, and many more). For more information, see Rambam, Sama Shorseh B'nai, and Rambam and Benu'ak, ibid.
There is no permit, but it does not violate the "Do not deviate" rule.
As for how to measure, there is no algorithm for this and it is left to a person's heart and judgment (and the heart will see. And in a court of law they could decide when a person has already disrespected or not. Like when they decide to kill someone who violates the words of the writers). It's like the paradox of the pile. When someone collects clothes, they become a pile even without there being a defined measure for the amount of clothes and it is subject to the observer's judgment. Starting at a certain amount (which they don't know how to put their finger on), everyone will say that there is a pile of clothes here. This also happens in courts, which only after a certain critical mass of evidence (which is also determined by its strength) decide that there is no reasonable doubt that a certain person is no longer innocent.
Wonderful. But perhaps it is possible to reconcile the Rambam”s commandments of “do not deviate”. The intention is that the Torah gave the sages the power to decide when the prohibition is a violation of the Torah and when it is not. After all, the sages have the power to uproot something, at least in the Do and Do nots. It seems to me that there is a Mishnah for such a king.
The fact that they have the power to uproot falsehood does not mean that they have the power to establish a prohibition in the Torah. There is a mechanism of "written message to the sages", but it is only stated in certain places.
The expansion from the original prohibition of not turning away is rabbinic. (The commandment to listen to the sages is rabbinic.)
A duty that was strengthened because all Israel accepted it.
A very interesting idea.
The problem that arises in the Ramban's method is meta-halachic (what is the source of the sages' authority to legislate), while it sounds a bit like you are focusing on the Ramban's words to the Rambam's method only on the halachic problem (why are the rabbinic doubts lightened in the laws). Why don't you emphasize that the Ramban is saying something bigger, that supposedly if we adopt the Rambam's method, a bigger/more important meta-halachic problem will arise, that there is no longer a division between the Torah and the rabbinic???
I didn't understand the question. That's what the Ramban makes difficult. The difference regarding Kola and Ghumra in Spikot is just an example.
1. The explanation of the Rambam's words is very beautiful, but it is not possible to say unequivocally that even the Ramban agrees with the Rambam that the study of Tesur is implicit.
The Ramban believes that there is no exception to the rule of not tessur in the laws of the rabbis, even if one intends to deviate in the most extreme way, even if one is an old man of Memra. It is impossible to say that there is no disagreement that he explicitly writes this distinction between him and the Rambam. He explicitly writes this later in his words.
All of his interpretation of without tessur is solely in the interpretation of the Torah, as he interpreted the meaning of the matter - that the Torah should not be like two Torahs, etc. Therefore, even if there is a full reference, it is a tesor - according to the Ramban, it is in the style of references that are taken out of context and certainly not as the rabbi explained in the words of the Maimonides.
2. If so, why listen to the decrees of Chazal according to the Ramban - in my understanding, it is implied from his words that because the content of the words of the sages themselves is part of what we committed ourselves to at Mount Sinai and it is implied and branches off from the Torah in some way, as he says: "The Torah commands and interprets and announces and implies"). And I saw in the name of the gerash that it is clear that it is necessary to listen to them.
I don't remember at the moment that he writes that there is no exception to the rule of not deviating when it fundamentally violates the authority of the Sages. He does write that there is no zakon memra over the laws of the rabbis, but it could be the zakon memra. Although I am not sure that he thought at all about the distinction between the essential mir and the regular rabbinical prohibition, from the fact that ”not deviating” is a reference to the laws of the rabbis, it can be learned in my way.
The problem is that it is difficult to find another basis for the obligation to the laws of the rabbis, since even if it is a reason, it is a reason from the Torah (as the Kosh explains in the Kondash).
Perhaps it could be said that if the Torah forbade departing from their words in their interpretation of the Torah, it implies that one must listen to them in their decrees as well.
(Although here it is not really implicit and it would be possible to divide between interpretation and decrees)
Ultimately, it turns out that only the intentional looking is forbidden according to the words of the Sages, so a person who stumbles and transgresses the Sages' prohibition of appetite has not transgressed the prohibition at all and does not need to repent. Right?
Certainly, he violated the prohibition of the rabbis.
Thank you!
Here is the direction of Rabbi Yehuda Leon Ashkenazi zt”l (Manitou)
From the Manitou archive:
https://manitou.org.il/arcive/sfarim/sodivri1/1555-soivri1nispach
Appendix A: The Torah of the Father and the Torah of the Rabbi
It is said in the Talmud:
Who recites the blessing? The blessing ‘Who sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to light a Hanukkah candle’. And where did He command us? Rav Oya said: ’You shall not remove’ (Deuteronomy 17:11). Rav Nehemiah said: ‘Ask your father, and he will tell you; your elders, and they will tell you’ (Deuteronomy 23:7).
It seems that the verse that Rav Oya cites, which constitutes an agreed-upon foundation for the belief of the Sages, was enough for us, and what is the rabbinate's reason for bringing the additional verse that Rabbi Nehemiah cites?
Rabbi Hutner explains that what is special about the holiday of Hanukkah is that the Greeks wanted to separate the people of Israel from the Torah, and not just the Torah from the people of Israel.[2] The relationship between the people of Israel and the Torah is not only in terms of a people who strictly observe the laws of the Torah, but also a people who contain the Torah within them; a people who are themselves the Torah. This is emphasized in the prayer “On Miracles” recited on Hanukkah: “Let them forget your Torah.”[3] This is the meaning of the midrash: “Write on the horn of the bull that you have no part in the God of Israel.”[4]
The Greeks did not object to there being a religion in Israel like the other religions. But Israel's connection to the Torah is not like other religions: it is from the ’Father’ and not from the ’Rav’. The Torah of the Father is the Torah that is hidden in the souls of the sons by the power of the Father.
We pray to the ’God of our fathers’ and not to the ’God of the Father’, nor even to the ’God of Moses our Rabbi’. Therefore, the Gemara needs an additional special explanation of ‘You shall not remove’ in order to feel the special thing about Chanukah, which is the connection to ‘Ask your father and let your elders tell you and let them tell you’. That is, to the fathers who are the foundation and basis of the people, and to the Torah that the Greeks tried to uproot.
And in the transcript of the lesson on which the article is based:
https://manitou.org.il/arcive/mamarim/mamarim-manitou/1060-%D7%AA%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%90%D7%91-%D7%95%D7%AA%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%A8%D7%91-%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8
“Rabbi Yehuda said, Who is the one who recites the blessing? The one who recites the blessing ‘Who sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to light a Hanukkah candle’. And where was it commanded?” It is very interesting to see that the Gemara's question about the root of the rabbinic commandments is specifically asked in the context of Chanukah. There are many rabbinic commandments, but the question of where they were commanded is specifically here. “Rabbi Oya said: M’La tesur’ (from the verse ‘Thou shalt not turn aside from all that they shall say to thee on the right hand and on the left’) Who is this referring to? In the dayanim, we immediately see that the source or authority for continuing to study Torah is the dayanim, and here we meet in our topic the Torah of the Father, the Torah of the Rabbi. “Rabbi Nehemiah said: ‘Ask your father, and your elders will tell you, and they will tell you.'”
You see the difference: in one source the authority is the dayanim. In the other source the authority is the memory of the nation.
…
Therefore, we can understand the words of Chazal: “The words of the scribes are more beloved than the words of the Torah”.
Torah Sheva”p is based on the tradition of the nation - it is a family tradition that exists *by the right of the fathers*.
Rabbi Sherki on the essence of Tosheva”p
http://ravsherki.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1545:15451545-1545&Itemid=100513
And of course, our very agreement on what the written Torah is is based on the tradition of the nation and the division from the Torah and the rabbis is based on the words of the sages (who also determined which books were included in the Torah).
The tradition of the patriarchs preceded the status of Mount Sinai.
For the answer to the question of Didan, there is a clear “according to their opinion”
The Ramban who believes (to the best of my knowledge) that “doubt from the Torah to the Ḥumra is from the Torah” believes that if one transgresses (according to the Ramban) over “do not deviate” then his sfiq will also be doubt from the Torah to the Ḥumra and it is not logical to divide
But the Ramban who believes “doubt from the Torah to the Ḥumra is from the rabbis” certainly there is room to divide in the laws of the rabbis that their doubt will be valid because there are rabbinic opinions here (and if the Ramban held that doubt from the Torah to the Ḥumra is from the rabbis, he would certainly agree with this division)
Wouldn't that be so?
The connection is tenuous. The idea that "they said, they said" can be said even if there is doubt about the Torah's accuracy. And according to the Ramban, this is not a rabbinical argument, since he understands that for the Ramban, it is from the regular Torah.
Regarding Maimonides, he explains that one is not punished for this because it is subject to the warning of the death of the court of law – but it is subject to the warning of the death of the court of law only in matters for which a keret or tefillin is required (as stated in the law of the Elder of Mamre), that is, in violation of the authority to interpret (and also – not in every case).
Is this enough to exempt one from the punishment even in the prohibitions of the rabbis (authority to legislate)?
Obviously. It's the same law. By the way, according to Maimonides, there is an old man who is not a heretic even in the prohibitions of the rabbis.
The answer was actually in the body of the question: “It is impossible that a person who does not forbid anything forbids nothing, so in any case he must have come to give authority to the sages.”
What puzzled me about this was that the Rambam explicitly says that one who transgresses their words transgresses a “thou shalt not do.”
I was thinking of a different direction in all of this. Perhaps the prohibition against transgressing the words of the sages follows a certain “path.” First, one transgresses their words and then one transgresses a “thou shalt not do.” However, to the extent that we rule in the affirmative in the case of doubt, and define that their words were not spoken in doubt, then we will not reach the prohibition from the Torah at all. That is, the ruling on the grave is in the case of doubt about the Torah commandment itself, here there is a workaround, to assume that in the case of doubt, one takes the view that their decree was not spoken.
(Of course, we need to get into the nitty-gritty of what a doubt is and why it is ruled out as a valid question.)
This is a different formulation of "they said and they said", as suggested by the Ramban in the Rambam.
"And whoever transgresses the words of the sages shall die," which appears in various variations in the Talmud, where does this come from? After all, this is not just about the old man of Mamre, but about every person. Even if he does it alone, for himself.
This is not a halachic statement.
Since I'm a Winnie the Pooh fan, I have to point out that in English the sign says “trespassers will” and that's because it was broken. And Piglet thinks that's his grandfather's name. The translation of “the trespasser will be punished” doesn't seem right to me, and I saw in another translation that it was translated as “forbidden to” and maybe this translation is also more appropriate for your Torah because I don't see any problem with the sign “the trespasser will be punished” – A sign like that simply assumes that what constitutes a crime is something that is known.
A question that does not arise from the force of your words (and conversely, to a certain extent your words can answer the question.
According to the Ramban, why is it that when I engage in a rabbinic mitzvah and come across a mitzvah from the Torah, do I have the law of one who engages in a mitzvah?
In other words, why is there no law here for the words of the rabbi and the words of the student?
First, who said that a rabbi who engages in a mitzvah is considered to be engaged in a mitzvah? No. If you assume so, then my words can serve as an explanation. According to my suggestion, one who engages in this fulfills a commandment/will of God, but its validity is lower.
I haven't read the column yet, but “The offender will be punished” is not the sign of a pig, at least not in the original language and in the translation by Israelit and Shapira.
The source is “Trespassers W”‘, which actually has a crime but no punishment.
https://x.com/A_AMilne/status/1174197851586539521
https://naorlea.co.il/m/translation.asp?id=111