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The Meaning of the Realm of Kodashim (Column 556)

A Look at the Relationship between the Service of God and Halakha

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.

This past Shabbat I gave a class in Lod, and in honor of the beginning of the book of Vayikra I addressed the meaning of the realm of Kodashim (sacrificial law). I would like to present the main points here (they are based on my essay, “Shanah Alav ha-Katuv le-‘akev – On the Meaning of Command in Kodashim”).

Shanah Alav ha-Katuv le-‘akev

As is known, there is a rule in the laws of sancta (Torat ha-Kodashim) that we require “shanah alav ha-katuv le-‘akev”—that the verse repeated a matter in order to make it indispensable (me‘akev). Throughout the Torah, when there is a command, it is taken as binding and indispensable; if it was not fulfilled, one has not discharged the obligation. For example, the laws of tzitzit and tefillin are, by default, indispensable—unless there is a special source and reason that they are not. By contrast, in the realm of Kodashim Hazal tell us in several places[1] that a mere command is presumed not to be indispensable, unless we have a special source teaching that it is. How does the Torah teach that a given command is indispensable? There are a few ways. For example, if the Torah repeats the command (i.e., “repeats it”—mishneh). Hence the rule that in Kodashim “we require that the verse repeated it in order to make it indispensable.” There are other indicators as well, such as the word “ḥukah” (“statute”) in the relevant passage, which also teaches that the command there is indispensable.

At first glance, this is quite puzzling. Sometimes there are differences between Kodashim and ḥullin (non-sacrificial matters)—for example, in eating sancta the day follows the night, unlike in ḥullin, and more. But such differences likely relate to the substance involved. By contrast, the rule “shanah alav ha-katuv le-‘akev” is a hermeneutic rule. Prima facie, rules of interpretation should not differ between Kodashim and ḥullin, since the Torah is read in the same way everywhere. If a biblical command is meant to be indispensable, that ought to be true across halakhic domains; and if a repetition is required to teach indispensability, that demand should apply throughout biblical law.

Indeed, some later authorities argued that this rule applies across all areas of biblical law.[2] But it is difficult to accept this claim against the consensus of the commentators. The proofs brought in support are not decisive, and this is not the place to elaborate. In any case, according to the great majority of commentators, the rule applies only in Kodashim.

And that really does demand explanation. Why should the hermeneutic rule for the sacrificial passages differ from the rules used elsewhere in biblical law? Moreover, I have not found, in Hazal or the Rishonim, any explicit source for this rule. One would expect it to be a halakha le-Moshe mi-Sinai or some tradition, but as far as I know, there is no hint in the sources of its origin. Apparently, then, the foundation of the rule is logical, and therefore it needs no revealed source. Yet I have not found a rationale among the commentators that clarifies its meaning and validity—particularly its unique application to Kodashim.

Clarification: What does le-‘akev (“indispensable”) mean?

There is a common misunderstanding regarding the term “‘ikkuv” (indispensability) in Halakha. When we say that something is not indispensable, people often assume it is optional, a merely ideal fulfillment. If you do it—great; if not—nothing happened. Thus, in the Mishnah, Menahot 38a:

“Tekhelet does not invalidate the white, and the white does not invalidate the tekhelet; the arm-phylactery does not invalidate the head-phylactery, and the head-phylactery does not invalidate the arm-phylactery.”

On that (mistaken) reading, adding tekhelet threads to tzitzit is merely optional. Note that this would also make the arm and/or head tefillin optional (indeed, both optional)—which is absurd. When we say that tekhelet does not invalidate the white, it means that if you affixed only white threads you did not forfeit the mitzvah of the white threads; but you did nullify the positive command of tekhelet (even if not counted as a separate mitzvah, there is clearly a full Torah obligation here). It is like taking only three species on Sukkot—except that there, lacking one species invalidates the others, so if you lacked the etrog you did nothing at all. In tzitzit and tefillin there is no invalidation: what you did still counts; but what you omitted is a classic bitul ‘aseh (neglect of a positive command).

For our purposes, then: When we say that in Kodashim “we require that the verse repeated it to make it indispensable,” the meaning is that in the ordinary case (if the Torah does not inform us that the rule invalidates), if you failed to do what the law prescribes you indeed neglected that rule; but what you did perform is not lost.

Indispensability in the requirement of lishmah in offerings

In the essay mentioned above I discussed at length the differences between lishmah (acting “for its sake”), intention, and the various components of lishmah. Here I will not enter into that. For us, the Mishnah at the opening of Zevahim states:

“All sacrificial offerings slaughtered not for their sake are valid, but they do not count for the owners as fulfilling their obligation—except for the Passover offering and the sin-offering.”

The Mishnah teaches that a thought of “not for its sake” (she-lo lishman) does not invalidate the offering; it is brought as usual (and the Gemara explains that one may not further alter it—e.g., a burnt-offering slaughtered she-lo lishmah is still forbidden to have its blood thrown she-lo lishmah). But it does not discharge the owner’s obligation. The two exceptions are the Passover and the sin-offering, which, if offered she-lo lishman, are invalid as offerings.

Let me repeat what I clarified above: Saying that lishmah does not invalidate the kasherut of the offering does not mean there is no duty to offer lishmah. Clearly there is; if you did not, you failed in the rule of lishmah. But the offering itself is still valid (though it does not count for the owner’s obligation, as the Mishnah says).

In Zevahim 4b the Gemara asks: “Perhaps where he slaughtered not for its sake the offerings should be invalid?”—i.e., lacking lishmah should invalidate the offering (whereas, as noted, in most cases an offering is not invalidated by a she-lo lishmah thought).

Tosafot there (s.v. ve-eima)[3] ask: how could the Gemara have considered invalidating an offering for lack of lishmah when in Kodashim there is a rule that “we require that the verse repeated it to make it indispensable”? With regard to changing the sanctity (shinui kodesh), invalidation should not follow, since we have only a single source? [4] Tosafot resolve this by discussing the details of the sugya; this is not the place to elaborate.

In the responsa of the Ḥatam Sofer (ḤM, Addenda §204), he cites in the name of R. David Deutsch (henceforth: the RDD) an answer to Tosafot’s question based on the Ritva in Yoma.

Distinguishing prohibitions and positive commands: the Ritva’s view and qualifications of it

The Ritva, Yoma 53a, s.v. ḥad le-‘onesh, explains that Rava holds there is a prohibition against bringing the incense without the smoke-raising ingredient (ma‘aleh ‘ashan), and therefore no additional verse is needed to teach that this is indispensable. His intent is that for prohibitions (lavin, “do-not” commandments) the rule “we require that the verse repeated it to make it indispensable” does not apply; that rule applies only to positive commands (‘aseh), not to prohibitions.[5]

Before proceeding, note that the Kehillot Ya‘akov (Zevahim §5, s.v. ve-ḥazinan) raises several objections to the Ritva and from them arrives at two qualifications:

  • There are prohibitions whose entire essence is to warn us to fulfill a positive command.[6] For such prohibitions, duplication would be required even according to the Ritva; in these cases the prohibition, too, would need repetition to be indispensable.
  • A prohibition inferred from a positive command (lav ha-ba mikhlal ‘aseh)—though technically classified as a positive command—does not require repetition to be indispensable.

Thus, it appears the Ritva’s distinction is not between the formal halakhic categories of positive commands and prohibitions, but between the content of the directive: if the content is to refrain, no repetition is needed for indispensability; if the content is to do, there, repetition is required. The conclusion is that the dividing line is not the legal status of the mitzvah, but whether its practical content is a prevention or an action. Hence a prohibition inferred from a positive—though legally a positive command—is in substance a prevention and therefore does not invoke the rule that “we require repetition to make it indispensable.” Conversely, a prohibition that functions to ensure a positive action—though legally a prohibition—has the normative content of a positive action; therefore repetition is required to make it indispensable.

An answer to Tosafot’s question

In light of the Ritva, the RDD explains: since there is a prohibition against entertaining a thought of “not for its sake” (i.e., changing the offering’s sanctity), this is a lav, and therefore no further source is needed for indispensability. This prohibition is derived from the verse “lo yeḥashev” (“it shall not be considered”).

However, the Ḥatam Sofer notes there that according to Tosafot above this does not seem to follow the Ritva, since Tosafot assume that “we require repetition to be indispensable” even with respect to the prohibition of changing sanctity. Perhaps, though, Tosafot hold that there is no lav here at all, which is why they pose their question. And indeed one can further argue that according to most views there is no prohibition in a mere lack of lishmah; rather, the absence of lishmah disqualifies (from achieving appeasement, ritzuy). Many hold that “lo yeḥashev” applies only to a thought of piggul that invalidates the offering, not to any thought of she-lo lishmah (see details in my essay there).

Before I return to gather the threads, I must preface the sugya of prayer times.

The meaning of the time of prayer

The Mishnah and Gemara at the beginning of the fourth chapter of Berakhot (26a) deal with the times of prayer. The Mishnah states:

“The morning prayer is until midday; R. Yehudah says: until four hours. The afternoon prayer is until evening; R. Yehudah says: until pelag ha-minḥah. The evening prayer has no fixed time; and the Musaf prayer is the entire day (R. Yehudah says: until seven hours).”

And the Gemara asks:

“Does everyone hold ‘until midday and no longer’? But did not Rav Mari son of Rav Huna son of R. Yirmiyah bar Abba say in the name of R. Yoḥanan: if one erred and did not pray ‘Arvit, he prays twice at Shacharit; if he missed Shacharit, he prays twice at Minḥah! [Answer:] The entire day he can continue praying.”

The Gemara wonders: why say “until midday and no longer,” when we already hold of a possibility of “make-up” prayers at the time of the next prayer?[7]

The Gemara resolves:

“Until midday—he is given the reward of prayer in its time; from then on—he is given the reward of prayer, but not the reward of prayer in its time.”

That is, until midday one receives the reward of “prayer in its time”; thereafter one receives reward for praying, but not the reward of “in its time.” In other words, one may pray after the time, but the prayer is not complete, and the reward is not full. Put differently, the time does not fully invalidate prayer. If one prayed “out of time,” one still has a prayer (one does not lose what one did), but one did not perform the mitzvah of prayer in its time. How are we to understand this distinction? From where does the Gemara derive the assumption that the command regarding prayer does not invalidate? In what way is it different from other commands?

It seems this depends on the dispute between the Rambam and the Ramban regarding prayer.[8]

To understand this, let us first recall their dispute about the mitzvah of prayer. As is known, the Rambam counts a Torah-level mitzvah to pray (Sefer ha-Mitzvot, positive command 5):

“The fifth command is that He commanded us to serve Him, may He be exalted; and this command is repeated several times, as it says (Exod. 23:25), ‘And you shall serve the Lord your God’; and it says (Deut. 13:5), ‘And Him shall you serve’; and (Deut. 6:13), ‘And Him shall you serve’; and (Deut. 11:13), ‘and to serve Him.’ And although this command is of the ‘general’ commandments (as I explained in the fourth principle), it has a particularization in that He commanded prayer. And the language of the Sifrei: ‘“and to serve Him”—this is prayer.’ And they also said: ‘“and to serve Him”—this is study.’ And in the Mishnah of R. Eliezer son of R. Yose the Galilean (ch. 12, p. 228) they said: ‘Whence the root of prayer among the commandments? From here: “The Lord your God shall you fear, and Him shall you serve.”’ And they said (Midrash Tannaim in Midrash ha-Gadol, Parashat Re’eh): ‘Serve Him with His Torah; serve Him in His Temple’—i.e., to go there to pray in it and toward it, as Solomon explained (1 Kings 8; 2 Chron. 6).”

However, all the details (times, text, number of prayers, etc.) are, even according to him, rabbinic. The Ramban, in his glosses there, sees prayer in all its particulars as rabbinic, without a Torah-level root (except for prayer in a time of distress). Let us now return to the distinction that emerges from the sugya in Berakhot.

According to the Rambam, the Gemara is straightforward. On his view there is a Torah-level obligation to pray, but no fixed time by the Torah. Therefore, one who prays after the time fixed by the Sages has fulfilled the Torah mitzvah of prayer. He has not, however, fulfilled the rabbinic rules that establish times for prayer. Hence he receives reward for the Torah-level prayer, but not the full reward of “prayer in its time” as the rabbinic law requires.[9] I would note that even according to the Rambam there is some awkwardness in the phrasing, for the Gemara should then have distinguished between Torah and rabbinic levels rather than between “in its time” and “not in its time.”[10]

What will the Ramban say? How does he read the Gemara’s distinction? If the entire concept of prayer is rabbinic—both the very obligation and its details—why assume that one who prays “out of time” has fulfilled anything? Why think the Sages’ time-fixing is not indispensable? One could force an interpretation that even according to the Ramban there are two tiers within the rabbinic institution: first, a basic obligation to pray without fixed details; second, an obligation to follow the Sages’ particulars. But this is strained. Why would the Sages legislate that way? Where would the Gemara derive it from, and why not read all rabbinic enactments this way?

It appears that the Ramban, too, recognizes the existence of prayer-as-object (ḥefẓa shel tefillah) on the Torah level, and that his dispute with the Rambam is only whether we are commanded by the Torah to pray or not. The Ramban would agree that one who prayed before Sinai performed an act of prayer as part of his avodat Hashem (service of God).[11] In Hiddushei ha-Graḥ[12] a distinction is made, in the Rambam, between the fulfillment of the mitzvah of prayer and the object of prayer; and he adds:

“Even for those who disagree with the Rambam—this is only regarding the obligation; but its fulfillment and essence are, for all, Torah-level.”

What did the Sages add atop the Torah-level reality? It is implausible that after Sinai—and certainly after the Sages instituted prayer—the primal, natural prayer was uprooted. One who prays, in whatever form, is still engaged in prayer. When the Sages added the details of the laws of prayer, they surely did not intend to uproot natural prayer; rather, they established a new obligation so that even one who does not wish to pray (and, per the Ramban, is not obligated by Torah law) would be obligated. If so, one who prayed not in accordance with the Sages’ particulars is certainly no worse than one who prays in the basic, Torah-level sense. He surely did not commit a prohibition, and his act has value as avodat Hashem—even if he did not fulfill the specific rabbinic law.

Think of Abraham our forefather praying. He did not necessarily follow the later rabbinic enactments, and yet clearly his act had value as service of God. Now I do the very same thing. Is it reasonable that because Torah was given or the Sages legislated something, my act has lost all value? Certainly not. It still has the value of avodat Hashem, just as it did for Abraham. True, I did not fulfill the additional tier that the Sages added (which Abraham was not obligated in), but that does not invalidate the first, natural tier.

This, then, applies both according to the Rambam and the Ramban. As we saw, the Ramban agrees that there is such a thing as prayer even before the Sages’ enactments. On his view there is no Torah obligation to pray, but one who prays—his prayer is a prayer. Beyond that, as a second tier, the Sages instituted prayer in the mold they set; but the first tier remains.

Now, when we ask about one who prayed the morning prayer after its time, the answer is clear: his prayer is an act of value and certainly constitutes service of God. The Sages’ enactment did not uproot that. He did not fulfill the rabbinic mitzvah of the morning prayer, since he did not do what they prescribed, but he certainly prayed. Hence the Gemara says he receives reward for prayer, but not the reward of prayer “in its time.”

The distinctive nature of the Kodashim domain

The starting point of this account regarding prayer is that prayer is avodat Hashem (see the Rambam cited above), a service with a natural dimension that exists prior to command and Halakha—i.e., beyond formal halakhic obligation. In contrast, refraining from eating pork or keeping Shabbat—such acts have no religious value absent a command.

If so, it is clear that in the entire sphere of Kodashim we are in the same situation. It is true that we “discovered” that prayer is “service,” but the source is of course the sacrifices; that is where the service originates.

Accordingly, it stands to reason that regarding sacrificial service as well, if a person offered a sacrifice intuitively, out of a natural religious impulse, there is avodat Hashem there. Even if he did not act in accordance with Halakha, ultimately a sacrifice was offered and service was performed—just like the offerings of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and others before Sinai. We can call this the “ḥefẓa (object) of service,” analogous to the “object of prayer” according to the Ramban. In reality, service occurred, even if not precisely according to the rules. It is implausible that after the Torah was given, someone who offered a sacrifice like Abraham’s would have his act deemed valueless. The Torah comes to add atop the natural tier, not replace it. Therefore, even if one failed to observe the halakhic details, there is still service in reality, and he will receive reward for it.

I would therefore suggest that this is why, in Kodashim—just as in prayer and in all domains of service—the default is that a rule is not indispensable unless the Torah tells us so. If you did something not in accordance with the rule, you did not lose the basic value of your act, though you did not fulfill the added tier (recall the clarification about ‘ikkuv in Halakha).

Of course, there are cases in which the Torah wishes to invalidate prior modes of action; in such cases it repeats the rule or writes “ḥukah,” i.e., states it explicitly. There, non-compliance is disqualifying and transgressive. But the default is that if this is not stated, the rule is an added “upgrade” atop the natural tier and is therefore not indispensable. I will not enter here into the topic of constitutive vs. directive concepts in Halakha, which I have discussed elsewhere (see Column 192). The basic claim is that there are concepts that Halakha did not constitute ex nihilo; they already existed, and Halakha merely directs them (tells us how to do them properly). In such cases the halakhic addition does not invalidate; see there for examples.

Resolving the earlier difficulties

This provides a natural explanation for the rule “we require that the verse repeated it to make it indispensable.” It also explains why it is said only in Kodashim. Moreover, this explains why no explicit verse is required to teach the rule: it follows from simple reason (just as the notion of an “object of prayer” arises from reason without an explicit source).

But what happens when the rule in Kodashim is a prohibition? In that case, the Torah itself explicitly commands us not to do something—and thereby tells us that such an act is wrong (not merely “less than ideal”). Here it is clear that the Torah intended to uproot some previously natural, intuitive action. Hence it imposed a lav and did not suffice with a positive command (which, in Kodashim, is treated as a le-khatḥilah, an ideal). If so, the Ritva’s view—that in prohibitions the rule “we require repetition to make it indispensable” does not apply—is well explained by this account.

Consider the law of the time of prayer. The simple understanding is that the Sages instructed us to pray at a certain time (a positive command). Now imagine they had instructed not to pray after the time—i.e., a prohibition. In that scenario, one who did so would receive no reward at all; it would be a mitzvah haba’ah ba-‘aveirah (a mitzvah that comes through a transgression). Such a statement would invalidate the prayer. In fact, what we have is an instruction to pray at a time; therefore, one who fails to do so nonetheless has prayed and served God. Hence the Gemara in Berakhot assumes that the time of prayer is not indispensable.

From here we can also understand the two qualifications we saw above in the name of the Kehillot Ya‘akov. We noted that the Ritva’s dividing line is not the formal axis of prohibition vs. positive command, but the practical axis of prevention vs. action. If the directive declares some action wrong, then it has no value even without repetition in the verse. But if the directive instructs us to do something, then even if we fail to do it, the remaining act retains value as service—unless the verse explicitly tells us otherwise by repeating it. It follows clearly that the legal classification is not decisive; the question is the directive’s content. A prohibition that is inferred from a positive command is, in substance, a prevention and thus does not require repetition to be indispensable. Conversely, a prohibition whose purpose is to ensure performance of a positive act is formally a lav but substantively a positive instruction; there, repetition is required to make it indispensable.

Let me end with an explanation regarding indispensability in the rule of lishmah. We saw that Tosafot in Zevahim ask why the Gemara thought lishmah would be indispensable even without the verse’s repetition. According to what we have said, there is a very simple answer, even without relying directly on the Ritva’s principle (which, as we saw, may not be universally accepted). The fact that a prayer not according to the enactment is nevertheless a prayer is rooted in the fact that the person intends to serve God. If there is intention, then even if the act does not comply with all the halakhic details, in reality he served God and that has value as avodat Hashem. But mere lip movement without intention or motivation of avodat Hashem obviously accomplishes nothing. No one would call that service of God absent a command. The same applies to an offering brought she-lo lishmah: it is not avodat Hashem, and therefore it is indeed indispensable even without repetition in the verse. In matters of the basic motivation to serve God, no repetition is needed for indispensability.

For this very reason R. Ḥayyim (the Graḥ)[13] writes that the basic intention in prayer is indispensable according to all views (even for the opinion that “mitzvot do not require intention”). Without that basic intention of avodat Hashem, such “service” is meaningless.[14]

We can now take one step further and answer the Ḥatam Sofer’s objections to the RDD. The RDD claimed that regarding a thought of she-lo lishmah there is a lav of “lo yeḥashev,” and therefore no scriptural duplication is needed to teach indispensability. We saw that, as the Ḥatam Sofer objects, this claim is problematic since not all agree that there is a lav of “lo yeḥashev” for she-lo lishmah thoughts that do not invalidate the offering (even in the Rambam there are divergent readings—though the Rambam does indeed appear to read it that way). But on our approach the matter is well settled. Even if the Ḥatam Sofer is right that there is no formal lav for she-lo lishmah, it remains clear that the demand for lishmah is, by its very nature, indispensable. Even without an extra verse commanding us to offer lishmah, one who failed to do so did not perform service—and that is indispensable, just as in the realm of ḥullin.

A note on moral commands

To conclude, let me briefly note an implication regarding moral commands. The Holy One rebukes Cain for murdering his brother Abel long before there was an explicit prohibition of murder. The assumption is that Cain should have known, from moral intuition, that murder is forbidden—just as each of us knows it. So why is a command needed at all? Why not rely on reason?

I usually answer that a moral prohibition does not require a command, since it is known from our moral intuition. The Torah comes to add a religious (halakhic) layer and to say that murder is not only morally forbidden but religiously forbidden as well. This follows from my view that entirely separates Halakha from Morality. But note that the halakhot of murder contain various leniencies (see Sanhedrin 77 and elsewhere): indirect causation (grama), “sof ḥamah lavo” (“the sun will eventually come”), bringing the matter near a fire (mekarev ha-davar eẓel ha-esh), precise calibration (meẓamẓem), etc. In several cases—even though I am fully morally guilty of killing—I may be exempt from the death penalty, and perhaps have not violated “You shall not murder.” How can this be? If I am guilty of killing someone, why should it matter that I did it left-handed, or by indirect causation, or by using the sun? Morally there is no difference: I am a thoroughgoing villain no less than a hands-on murderer.

Some want to infer from this that there is a distinctive halakhic-Jewish morality different from universal morality—that according to “Jewish morality” killing by indirect causation is less severe than killing by one’s hands. That is, of course, absurd. There is no “Jewish morality” and “other morality.” There is only correct morality and incorrect morality. God’s rebuke to Cain is on the basis of morality, not “Jewish morality.” But we do not need such a contrived answer. The simple, compelling explanation is another instance of the view I have laid out here: the Torah does not come to say that you are somehow less wicked if you killed via “sof ḥamah lavo,” for it does not come to subtract from what was known before Sinai and before the command. In the moral domain, as in the domain of service, the Torah comes to add to what existed—not to replace it. Therefore, one who killed via “sof ḥamah lavo” is a consummate moral villain, but not (necessarily) a consummate religious villain. In our terms: “halakhic murder” does not invalidate “moral murder.” Put differently: with respect to murder and moral norms, too, the Torah does not constitute the prohibitions and concepts; it directs them.

[1] See, for example, Zevahim 23b and parallels.

[2] See, for example, the Ḥazon Ish, Negaim §12:20 s.v. “ve-zeh de-be‘inan”; Kehillot Ya‘akov, Zevahim, end of §5, s.v. “hashta.”

[3] See also the Shitah Mekubbeẓet there, note 10, in the name of Tosafot ha-R. Peretz.

[4] One may note Zevahim 46b, which brings an additional source for this rule (from the word “‘olah”); see Tosafot in Zevahim 2a, s.v. kol ha-zevaḥim.

[5] The Kehillot Ya‘akov, Zevahim, note to §5, brings another proof from Menahot 59b: “The Sages taught: ‘He shall not put oil upon it’—and if he did, he invalidated it.” See Sha‘ar ha-Melekh (Laws of the Passover Offering 1:1—esp. s.v. “and see Ḥiddushei ha-Ritva”) for extended discussion; and Responsa Beit ha-Levi I, end of §30 (s.v. “ve-ra’iti le-Sha‘ar ha-Melekh”).

[6] The source for distinguishing this type of prohibition is the Ramban, Ḥiddushim to Kiddushin 34a, regarding the mitzvah of a guardrail (ma‘akeh). Later authorities used his principle to resolve several difficulties in other contexts—see, e.g., Divrei Yeḥezkel by R. Yeḥezkel Bernstein (printed in Israel; publication details not listed), §15, branch 3 (p. 152), regarding feeding minors on Yom Kippur, and more.

[7] I will not enter here into the puzzling conflation in the Gemara between make-up prayers (tashlumin) and praying “out of time.” At that stage, it seems to identify the two; some Rishonim appear to maintain that identification even in the conclusion, but this is not the place to elaborate.

[8] See further in Midah Tovah, Parashat Toledot, 5767.

[9] All this depends on the definitions I proposed in that essay (loc. cit.); see there.

[10] Moreover, according to Tosafot, s.v. “de-amar,” Sukkah 3a, one who fails to fulfill the rabbinic requirement has not fulfilled the Torah-level obligation either. The Ran and others disagree.

[11] On the distinction between fulfillment and obligation in mitzvot, see my essay in Midah Tovah, Parashat Vayeshev, 5767.

[12] Laws of Prayer 4:1.

[13] There as well, in the laws of prayer.

[14] Such a basic intention can, however, be established via the mechanism of “stam lishmah,” as in the opening sugya of Zevahim; this is not the place to elaborate.

21 תגובות

  1. Hello, Rabbi. Really nice article!
    Why are prayer and sacrifice before the giving of the Torah defined as the work of God? And after all, there is no halakhic or moral obligation in this, and what is the meaning of the work of God that is not from the perspective of halakhic and morals?

    1. Chen Chen. I didn't understand the question. Prayer and sacrifices are the field called ‘Avoda’, both after and before the giving of the Torah. This is how we create a connection and stand before the Holy One. Precisely because there is no purely halakhic issue here, and it goes beyond moral matters.
      Before the giving of the Torah, there was no halakhic law, but the fathers prayed and offered sacrifices. This is a religious action that many people do without regard to halakhic law. This is the way to create such a connection. And of course, there is no moral issue here either.

  2. What does it mean to “make contact”? Apparently, as long as there is no specific obligation to pray, prayer is nothing more than a personal psychological need.
    {This is what Leibowitz claimed - http://www.leibowitz.co.il/leibaricles.asp?id=1}. How can one make contact with God?

    1. And if Leibovitz claims this, does that mean it's true? I didn't understand the question.
      If you think it has no value except for the psychological need, then that's your assumption, and that's fine. I think differently. A connection with God doesn't have to be a two-way conversation. I can create intentions for him and he can create intentions for me.

  3. What you wrote sounds very logical, regarding the lack of distinction, from a moral perspective, between whether it is a murder by hand, and whether it is murder by hand, but one must draw the line, for example, I will give an example, if someone who has influence, say, says or writes that it is necessary to kill such and such an anonymous person, and as a result, one of his followers did so, as we know the general rule, the words of the rabbi and the words of the student, etc. But from a moral perspective, did that person of influence also commit the moral offense of causing murder, as you wrote?

    1. I don't know if we need to delineate the boundary. It's certainly interesting, but not necessary. I don't have a clear boundary (although your case is certainly outside that boundary. It's not even a borderline case), and for the purposes of my argument it's not important either.

  4. I still don't understand clearly from you, is my case within the forbidden limit? Or outside the forbidden limit, or are you in doubt?

  5. I'll reiterate my question, what do you mean that my case is certainly outside this boundary? Outside the forbidden boundary? Does that mean that there is no moral claim against the one who caused the one affected by him to go and murder such-and-such an unknown person, as you paint with a moral prohibition of murder in the Gramma?

    1. Your case is very far from the limit and it is clear that there is no prohibition against murder on the instigator. You can understand why.
      I think I wrote here once about instigating and its meaning.

  6. It's good that you made your opinion clear, let me just disagree with you firmly, out of respect of course, I thought to myself, that such a sharp definition and analysis actually leads to restraint, and more morality in opinion and in action, but I was wrong, because I specifically identify with your definition, and think just as firmly, that a murderer in the Grammar also includes under its boundary someone who incited and caused the person influenced by him to rise up and murder, and he is a moral offender under the most severe prohibition of "Thou shalt not murder"; Agam is exempt from death, and is defined as a Torah scholar who has not violated the prohibition of "Thou shalt not murder" And it is extreme and very dangerous, for society and humanity, and since this is how it works, the fear that each of us has, from this prohibition of "thou shalt not murder", and we distance ourselves from it as if from a bow, you, in your opinion, exclude this case, and I think to myself, how can it be that you and I agree on the basis of your definition, and more than that, even on the spirit of things, which you are actually trying to convey, which is to paint all types of murderers with this moral black stain, a lake that Torah has a difference in severity and punishment, so how is it that there is such a chasm between us, that I consider them to be that clearly immoral group of murderers in the grave, while you maintain that there is no trace of murder here, and that I am more moral than you? Unless you will show me where I am missing, in my moral vision?

    1. I don't understand what there is to explain here. Inciting someone to murder is not murder. He murdered willingly and by his own decision. Why should I be accused of murder? Maybe incitement, and I highly doubt that either.
      The fact that there is a chasm between us means nothing. That is the fact.

  7. I remember that the Tori Even says this regarding the issue of sacrifice for the sake of God (which he divides between other mitzvot that are required for the sake of God and sacrifice that are not required) that the rest of the mitzvot are not optional, i.e., these tefillin specifically, etc. However, regarding the issue of sacrifice, it is precisely the same in their eyes, and therefore does not require sacrifice for the sake of God. Is this known to the rabbi?

      1. He prophesied in the style of the Rabbi regarding the heftza demitzvah that belongs to the korban deika (perhaps from the aspect of the worship of God that belongs to it, as mentioned in Moreh Nevuchim… and also in the commentary on the Torah)

        1. I didn't see any of this in your description above. There you talked about a specific and non-specific item, and not about a demitzvah item. Do you have a source?

  8. According to your suggestion, it appears that the person prayed or offered a sacrifice in reality, meaning that he has an object of worship, but in any case he did not fulfill a mitzvah in this.
    Whereas the rule of a year on which the scripture says that in retrospect he did not only "offer an object of sacrifice" but that he did indeed perform a mitzvah.
    The difference between a no and a do in this matter is not clear to me. It is certainly possible that the Torah says "Do not do this" (no) but that still does not prevent. Why does a no automatically prevent and does not need a year on which the scripture says?

    1. In my opinion, this is the meaning that it does not hinder. For example, praying out of time is prayer but not a mitzvah of prayer. Therefore, a sacrifice not for its own sake is not a sacrifice in the natural sense either (meaning not only is it not a mitzvah of sacrifice, but there is no sacrifice here).

      1. When it comes to the law, the Torah tells us that it is a bad and wrong act. So, it tells us that this act also has no value beyond the system of mitzvot. It is a wrong act and not just not excellent.

  9. Wonderful article! Written clearly as usual, many thanks.
    B ’ Details for clarification:
    1. I didn't understand how all this fits into Rad”d's words, it seems that this is a new approach and does not belong to the words of the Ritva”a.
    2. The comparison from prayer to the law of the name of the sacrifice is seemingly a bit tight, since according to R” Chaim in connection with the intention in prayer, which is necessary, etc. We are talking about a person who prays and is the one who does the work, and prayer is a work of the heart, and therefore there is room to say that the main thing is his basic emotion, as our forefather Abraham prayed, but in the sacrifice in question it is the intention of the name of the priest and not of the sacrificer, from the viewpoint of the The priest does not have a job here like our forefather Abraham, but rather he simply performs a role as the representative of the sacrificer, and therefore it is less relevant to the work of the heart and more relevant to the taking of a lulav, writing a mezuzah, etc.

    1. I do not guarantee that it will be included. I said my own things, not his. But in the context of the text, it is certainly clear to me.
      Why is the difference between the priest and the owner important? The priest is a messenger (a messenger or a messenger, or both), and his intentions are considered our intentions. The sacrifices are work, even though they are performed by the priest.

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