On Mezuzot and Their Influence (Column 334)

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.

With wishes for a full and speedy recovery to Racheli

A few weeks ago, the daughter of an acquaintance of mine who was crossing the street was hit by a car whose driver was careless. She was hospitalized for complex surgeries and, to this day, suffers severe pain and is undergoing a difficult rehabilitation process. The driver who hit her, apparently racked with guilt, sent her a message—which he said he received from some rabbi—that she should check the mezuzot in her home, since that might be the reason she was injured (“tried and tested”). I thought the discussion that followed between us is worth a column.

Initial reaction

This direct, transcendent, prophetic-style message aroused considerable anger in its recipients, and understandably so. The driver, who acted carelessly and brought about bitter and painful consequences (we should understand that this is literally a change to one’s entire life course in a single sudden moment), is placing—however indirectly—the responsibility on the victim instead of taking it upon himself. I’ve mentioned here more than once a quip I once heard attributed to R. Chaim Kanievsky. A yeshiva student whose car was stolen asked him what he should correct in his character traits and deeds so that his car wouldn’t be stolen again, and R. Chaim replied that he should correct his car lock and, even more so, his diligence in using it. In our case, rather than recommending that the victim check her mezuzot, it would be better for him to check his own driving habits and improve them.

That is the instinctive and obvious response to such a suggestion. But when I heard about it, I told her that I see the driver’s proposal in a less negative light. First, I assume he did this with good intentions. His heart smites him for what he caused, and he feels helpless. He has no other way to fix what happened through his fault, so he tries to help in various ways, even if strange. Perhaps there’s a lack of tact here, but one can understand where it’s coming from (though of course it’s easy for me to offer assessments, advice, and recommendations, and to work on someone else’s character. I’m standing on the sidelines and was not harmed).

I’d like to examine the matter from several angles, on two principled levels: 1) to discuss the attitude toward such a proposal under the hypothetical assumption that checking mezuzot does in fact help; 2) to discuss whether it truly helps.

Diagnosis and assistance

What would we say if the driver suggested to the victim treatment methods (go to such-and-such a doctor, take such-and-such a medication, and the like)? I assume some annoyance would also arise here, but it would seem more reasonable to us. In that case, there’s no blaming the victim but rather an attempt to help her as he understands it. Yet the suggestion to check mezuzot can also be seen that way. In his view, a flaw in a mezuzah could have caused the accident, and at the same time fixing it could apparently also aid in recovery.

Beyond that, even if fixing the mezuzah is only a diagnosis of the reasons for the injury and not a means of repair, wouldn’t it be appropriate for a driver who truly thinks so to raise the matter with the victim? If that is indeed what he believes caused the accident, it’s worth helping her prevent future accidents—and perhaps along the way also help her fulfill the mitzvah of mezuzah properly (a non-kosher mezuzah, even if it causes nothing, still entails neglecting a positive commandment).

Consider a person who genuinely believes a defect in the mezuzah is what caused the accident. Would we expect him not to raise this suggestion? For the sake of discussion, let’s assume he does so after apologizing and without accusations (after all, the defect could certainly be the result of a mistake and likely wasn’t the victim’s fault). Why is this “blaming the victim”? Perhaps it somewhat shifts blame away from him (and even that isn’t really correct in traditional thinking, which sees these as two independent planes—though in my view that’s a logical folly), but it certainly doesn’t lay blame on her. Beyond that, this is a suggestion that might help improve the situation going forward. Isn’t it the obligation of the one who caused the whole affair to try to help repair it and prevent similar incidents in the future?

Now let’s consider other statements. If the driver had told the victim that she didn’t exercise enough, smoked cigarettes, or didn’t eat a healthy diet, and therefore her injury was so severe—would that be a problematic statement? Clearly such statements are infuriating. Moreover, here there is indeed blaming her. But on the other hand, on the assumption that it’s true, would we expect him not to say it? People tend to be offended by such statements, but there isn’t much logic in that (no one is perfect. See Column 218). The more important question is whether these statements are true or not. If they are, why not say them—for both the past and the future? Again, one could recommend refraining from saying something that won’t be received well, certainly if it’s hurtful and the statement is unlikely to help. But I am considering the principled matter: is there any flaw in the statement itself? It seems the opposite is the case—there’s even an obligation to say it. Incidentally, I hope that the discussion I’m conducting here does not itself cause such hurt.

Blaming the victim

Another comment regarding blaming the victim: in a hypothetical case where the victim really is at fault, is it forbidden for the perpetrator to blame them? Again, we can talk about tact and the duty not to hurt them further after they’ve already been harmed, but in principle I see no flaw in this. On the contrary, there’s a duty of “surely reprove your fellow.”

Usually, however, the picture isn’t black-and-white. In many cases the perpetrator is at fault, but the victim also bears contributory fault (this apparently wasn’t the case here, but as noted I’m discussing the principle). In such a situation, does the mere fact that someone was harmed and that the perpetrator is at fault prohibit us from also blaming the victim? I’ve written here in the past about arguments against blaming the victim. For example, in cases of rape and harassment, claims arise that part of the cause is revealing women’s clothing. Clearly in such cases the perpetrator is at fault and no one is trying to absolve him. Still, does the fact that the woman is the one harmed mean it’s forbidden to attribute contributory fault to women? In my view, in some cases they do bear contributory fault, and it is certainly fitting to mention it. And even if not, it’s worth arguing about it rather than forbidding the expression of the claim.

This applies in particular to social phenomena, where there is an inherent gap between the question of fault in the specific case and societal processes. I can say that the perpetrator is at fault and should be punished severely, and at the same time propose a policy that women dress more modestly so that people with low thresholds for arousal or with problematic self-control won’t be led to harm them. There’s a difference between the claim that the perpetrator isn’t at fault and the claim that there’s a segment of the public that might come to such acts if women walk around in immodest dress. There’s no contradiction between the demand that a person restrain himself and the claim that it’s worthwhile to prevent such events in advance.

The same is true in cases of provocation. The legal system also recognizes provocation as an argument for reducing blame and punishment. Even if the perpetrator is at fault, if the victim provoked him, that lessens his guilt. Moreover, when a person provokes an entire public, it’s reasonable that within that public there will be a few with less self-control who might come to problematic actions. Again, this doesn’t absolve any of them of responsibility for their actions, and yet society should formulate policy that also includes prevention. Feminist discourse forbids raising such arguments, but I’ve expressed my view on political correctness here more than once. In my eyes it’s part of the problem, not part of the solution. When such theses and claims are banned, public debate and policy are lacking, and then we all pay the price. And again, even if it’s not true, it’s still important to discuss it.

In Column 43 I cited as an example the ban on Jews ascending and praying on the Temple Mount—a matter that somehow slips under the radar of our local champions of human rights. In that context, Ariel Sharon’s ascent to the Mount is still considered a provocation, and many still consider him responsible for the intifada that broke out afterward. The fact that Arabs rioted and murdered doesn’t really interest them. Ariel Sharon the provocateur is the sole culprit. There, for some reason, people are unwilling to blame the violent murderer and attribute everything to provocation. Again, even if someone thinks Ariel Sharon was a provocateur and should not have been allowed to ascend the Mount, blaming him for what happened seems to me entirely equivalent to blaming women’s clothing for acts of rape. In both cases, the claim is that the victim bears contributory fault, but that doesn’t remove guilt from the perpetrator. Both claims are true, and both should be on the table. Moreover, in my personal view, a person’s right to pray anywhere he wishes so long as he’s not disturbing others is far more natural and self-evident than the right of women to wear whatever they like anywhere. The fact is that there is a ban on walking naked in the street and most of the public agrees to that (though even that is sometimes breached nowadays. I assume that too is only a matter of time).

Of course, the question of boundaries can arise here. To what extent is it appropriate to limit potential victims so that they won’t be harmed? Where is the line between illegitimate victim-blaming and demands made of the perpetrator, and legitimate pointing to contributory fault? I won’t get into that, but you can see a bit about it here.

Guilt versus responsibility

Another point that arises in our context is the distinction between guilt and responsibility, which I discussed in Columns 61, 67, and many others (see Column 283 for references to several of them). There are situations in which a person is not guilty but does bear responsibility for what happens because of them. For example, a country like the Soviet Union, where millions of citizens were captive under a tyrannical regime, cannot place all responsibility for its deeds on the regime. Without the citizens it wouldn’t have happened. I argued there that beyond the question of guilt, the citizens bear responsibility for what happens because they acquiesce to the situation—even if any reasonable person in such circumstances would behave similarly.

In our matter, this comes up in the context of driving on the road. We often see drivers who drive recklessly and yet not every time do events occur that cause injury to people or property. There are also drivers who don’t break the law or who drive relatively reasonably (even if somewhat beyond legal limits), as most of us do, and nothing happens. Do we blame them for anything? If their behavior is reasonable—then no.[1] Consider a driver traveling 100 km/h on a highway where the limit is 90. If nothing happened, no one thinks to blame him. But if he caused an accident and injuries to people or property, the responsibility lies with him. That is, our attitude toward a person is determined not only by their behavior but also by the consequences that result from it. Yet as far as the person’s guilt is concerned, it makes no difference whether there were consequences. His lawbreaking is the same in both cases. And still, the responsibility placed upon him differs in the two scenarios.

Let us assume for the sake of discussion that the driver who hit that victim wasn’t driving in a highly unusual manner. I suspect many of us do similar things, though usually without injuries. That of course lessens his degree of guilt, though the responsibility remains on his shoulders. In such cases there is some measure of wrongdoing and guilt, but it’s a guilt found in any reasonable person. Yet there are cases in which there’s no guilt at all, and still we impose responsibility. For example, the case of a minor or a person lacking reason who is “pursuing” (e.g., opening fire in the street). They lack understanding and don’t grasp the problematic nature of their act, so they have no guilt. But responsibility is placed upon them nonetheless, and by its force we kill them (the law of a “rodef,” a pursuer) to prevent the harm they might cause. In many cases the responsibility to prevent the consequences that flow from your actions rests upon you even if you bear no guilt. Again, I won’t enter here into the question of boundaries and criteria (when lack of guilt leads to lack of responsibility, and when there can be responsibility without guilt).[2]

From such a perspective, one can perhaps understand the offending driver, even if we don’t remove responsibility for his deeds. My claim is that imposing responsibility is certainly justified, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I view him as wicked. As a victim, it’s naturally hard for me to think that I myself occasionally do such things (and fortunately so far without severe consequences), but I think this perspective is correct. If that driver did nothing extremely aberrant, the fact that harm occurred doesn’t increase his guilt; it only places responsibility for the consequences upon him. Again, psychologically, for the victim and their relatives it’s hard to see things this way, but essentially this is the right view.[3]

We now arrive at the discussion about the proposal itself to check mezuzot.

Is a mezuzah even relevant?

All the arguments I’ve raised thus far indicate that we can view the offending driver’s suggestion to check mezuzot with less severity. He’s not such a great villain (though of course responsible for the consequences of his acts). His intention was likely positive, and in his view this proposal might indeed help. So why does it still sound so infuriating?

In my opinion, it’s hard to separate this from the question of whether checking mezuzot actually helps. My sense is that underlying the resentment is the assumption (which I fully share, of course) that this is a foolish suggestion with no substance. Again, I assume the driver himself believed it had substance and raised it in good faith, believing it to be helpful—but the anger toward him is also understandable: you killed and also inherit?! You drove carelessly and now you also offer foolish suggestions? Careless and thoughtless! This resentment reflects a theological view that mezuzot have no relevance to the harms and troubles that befall us, or to our fate in general.

I won’t re-enter here the exhausting discussions about providence, mysticism, deviations from the laws of nature, and so forth. We’ve had our fill. Nor do I intend to delve into sources regarding the segulot of the mezuzah (“Shomer Daltot Yisrael”—“Guardian of Israel’s Doors”). I only wish to point out that, to the best of my assessment, most readers would share the resentment I described toward this suggestion, which, in candid conversation, indicates that they don’t really believe mezuzot change anything regarding our fate.

I say this because the mantras we habitually recite about divine assistance and individual providence, and about everything that happens being decreed from above—and likewise that mezuzot determine our fate—are mantras spoken lip-service only. I don’t assume people who say them are usually lying. In my assessment they live in denial and self-deception. We’ve grown accustomed to the principles of faith in which we were educated and feel the need to identify with them. So we say them—sometimes out of a feeling of conviction and sometimes out of frustration that, deep down, we don’t really believe all that (a weakness of faith and the counsel of the evil inclination); but the truth is that we really don’t believe it.

In the second book of my trilogy, and also several times here on the site, I noted that beyond arguments against individual providence and mystical influence of mitzvot, there’s also the sense that people don’t actually believe it (as the song goes: “And he thinks that children believe this”—Shalom Hanoch, “Sham Sham”). I pointed out that God-fearing physicians do not conduct medical research differently from their atheist colleagues. They don’t control for the influence of righteousness and mitzvot. Nor do religious members of an investigative committee into a plane crash, a failed military operation, or a wounded soldier. In a synagogue conversation they’ll explain that it was punishment for our behavior, but in the field, when they must find the cause of the crash or disease, they attribute it to natural laws and natural occurrences. COVID is explained by natural causes and treated by medical means, yet in synagogues you’ll hear learned theological explanations for the outbreak of the plague, heaven forfend.

When people do develop some awareness of this dissonance, a broad apologetic arises that speaks of “two planes” (see my book That Which Is and That Which Is Not, Gate Four)—that one can speak of a natural cause and, alongside it, a theological cause. These are baseless notions, as I’ve explained many times, and I won’t return to them here. Alongside this come admonitions about defects in fear of Heaven and in faith, and also pangs of conscience (that one feels toward oneself for doubting the hand of God and lacking perfect faith). Instead, I keep proposing a straighter path: simply acknowledge that we don’t believe this, and the reason is likely that our intuition tells us it’s just not true. This is not a flaw in faith nor a weakness and surrender to the inclination and to heresy that pulls us in, but rather a recognition of the facts and of my perceptions about them.

Back to the driver and the mezuzot

The main problem I see in the driver’s proposal to check mezuzot (incidentally, why not check his own mezuzot? He too has entered trouble!) is not a problem of tact. It’s a problem of weakness of mind. I told my acquaintance that, in my estimation, it may be precisely the frustration and helplessness he feels that lead him to offer suggestions he himself may not truly believe. A person who has caused harm and feels he has no way to help or fix it feels frustration and helplessness, and such feelings can lead him to adopt strange notions and suggestions, even if he himself doesn’t really believe them.

On mantras and well-wishes

Speaking of mantra-reciting, I’m reminded of various memes circulating these days on the net regarding COVID. Last year we surely wished all our friends a good and sweet year. Then, as every year, we spoke of “may the old year and its curses end, and may the new year and its blessings begin.” The past year and its blessings did not particularly impress me. If those are the year’s blessings, I prefer last year’s curses (who even remembers them?!). This led me (and also Dror Rafael) to think again about the meaning of these well-wishes.

I know these are wishes, not prophecies. There’s no principled problem with wishing people—to them and to us—a good year; and even if it doesn’t materialize, there’s no problem trying and wishing again (hoping that next year it will). Still, I have a sense of mantra-reciting that deserves further scrutiny. In any case, if there are those who believe that prayers and wishes truly determine our fate for the coming year (the Day of Judgment), I’d suggest they think again. It seems to me a more realistic view of these days sees them as days of soul-searching and acceptance of God’s kingship and our obligation to it, not the determination of our fate for the coming year (see Columns 27 and 241).

The way to deal with COVID is to find a vaccine (and also to wear masks). Likewise, the way to prevent traffic accidents and injuries is to drive carefully—not to check mezuzot. For all of us to note.

[1] See a note on this in my article on Halacha and reality.

[2] I think one of the criteria is the victim’s guilt. If the victim bears no guilt at all, then even if the perpetrator is not guilty, the responsibility to prevent harm still rests upon him. This is the case of a minor “pursuer.” If the victim could have defended themselves, perhaps there’s more room to remove responsibility from the perpetrator in the absence of guilt.

[3] This is why some early authorities hold that the pursued person themself is not obligated to save themself by inflicting non-lethal harm on the pursuer. If Reuven pursues Shimon, Levi is commanded to kill Reuven. But if Shimon can be saved without killing Reuven (he can be saved by injuring one of his limbs), then it is forbidden to kill him. However, the pursued person is in a state of self-defense, and in that state it’s hard to demand refined judgment of them. Therefore, those authorities hold that the pursued person may kill the pursuer even when it’s possible to be saved by non-lethal injury. In our matter, one can understand the victim’s anger at the perpetrator, yet there is room to raise arguments that tip the scales in his favor (and again, I, standing on the sidelines, of course find it easier to do so).