Can One “Become a Resident” in the Land of Israel in the Middle of the Second Festival Day?
HaMa'ayan – 5773
Rabbi Dr. Michael Abraham
Outline:
Introduction
The dispute between the Rosh and his teacher
The halakhic ruling
Explaining the dispute: back to the question of “becoming a resident”
Explaining Maharam’s view: “Once It Was Set Aside at Twilight”
Implication: “Once Set Aside Because of the Previous Day”
Three side points
A secondary consideration of “lo plug”
One who was sane and became insane
Rabbi Genihovsky’s riddle, and another one
Conclusion
Introduction
In an article published about Rabbi Abraham Genihovsky, of blessed memory (hereinafter: RAG), head of Tchebin Yeshiva and a disciple of the Chazon Ish, who passed away at the beginning of 5773, the following incident was related, among other things:[1] RAG’s parents lived in Belgium and came to visit Israel. On the second festival day observed in the Diaspora, a poor man came to them and asked for charity, and RAG’s mother took out money and gave it to him. The astonished father wondered how she could do this in the middle of the second festival day, and she explained that that morning she had decided they were staying in the Land of Israel, and therefore, from her perspective, it was no longer a festival day. In that way she tried to compel her husband to agree to remain in the Land of Israel so that she would not be causing desecration of the festival.[2]
RAG discussed this question for many years: can a person really decide in the middle of the day that he is no longer a resident of the Diaspora? Once he raised this question in his lecture at the yeshiva, noting that he had found no resolution for it in any halakhic source. A student then arose, the son of Rabbi Natan Gestetner, of blessed memory, and related that a Jew had once appeared before his father and asked this very question in actual practice. In response to RAG’s inquiry, he said that his father had replied that he did not know how to answer, and that such a question should be asked of the Chazon Ish.[3] It turns out that he did refer the question to the Chazon Ish, who answered that he too had been asked this question many years earlier,[4] and had not known how to answer it. In the first case, the Chazon Ish sent the question in a letter to Rabbi Chaim Ozer, rabbi of Vilna. He replied that one may indeed assume the status of a resident of the Land of Israel in the course of the festival itself, though he brought no proof for his ruling. The newspaper reports that RAG was very happy to hear that his mother had acted in accordance with Jewish law, but he still remained puzzled as to the source of Rabbi Chaim Ozer’s ruling.
Of course, two assumptions underlie this entire discussion: (a) one who intends to return abroad must observe the second festival day even while in the Land of Israel; (b) in the Land of Israel the second festival day is not observed even nowadays. Both of these assumptions are accepted in practical Jewish law, although each is disputed among medieval authorities (Rishonim) and halakhic decisors; see the lengthy discussion in Minchat Yitzchak, vol. 4, secs. 1–4, and much more. For purposes of this discussion, we will of course assume both.
Given those two assumptions, it seems that two principal questions remain:
- If there is indeed no relevant source obligating a person to continue observing the second festival day, then why is there any room for doubt? In plain terms, surely one who has decided to become a resident of the Land of Israel is no longer obligated in the second festival day. Why, then, did all these halakhic decisors refrain from ruling decisively and remain uncertain, when they had no source indicating that in such a case one must continue to observe it? This implies that there was some genuine ground for doubt, only they could not resolve it. It is not clear what the two sides of that doubt are.
- Once we understand the reason for doubting whether one must continue observing the second festival day even after deciding to become a resident, we must still understand how, and on what basis, Rabbi Chaim Ozer nevertheless ruled as he did.
My assumption is that their doubt was not about human intention—whether such a decision is really final and decisive—because that is only a technical uncertainty, and there would be no point in asking someone else and issuing a general ruling on that basis. It is fairly clear that these decisors had a substantive doubt in the laws of the second festival day.
In this article I will try to answer both questions: (a) to explain what the doubt was; (b) and, although one does not challenge lions after their death (see the words of the Rosh cited below), with due respect I will nevertheless also try to point to a source that settles this law, and thereby justify Rabbi Chaim Ozer’s ruling.
The dispute between the Rosh and his teacher
The Tur, Yoreh De'ah sec. 396, cites a dispute between the Rosh and his teacher, Maharam of Rothenburg:
One whose father or mother died while he was a minor, and he came of age before thirty days had passed: Maharam of Rothenburg wrote that he must mourn once he comes of age, and he does not count from the day of burial; rather, he counts the seven and the thirty entirely from when he comes of age. But if thirty days passed before he came of age, the decree of seven and thirty no longer applies to him, and he completes the twelve months from the day of burial. But my father and master the Rosh, of blessed memory, wrote that since he was a minor at the time of burial, even if he came of age within the thirty, or even within the seven, the entire law of mourning no longer applies to him.
The case is that of a minor whose father or mother died, and who comes of age within the thirty days of mourning. The question is whether he must mourn under the law of a delayed report, that is, beginning from when he becomes obligated, or whether he is exempt from that mourning altogether. It appears that the Tur rules like his father, the Rosh.
The source is the Rosh at the end of chapter 3 of Moed Katan (sec. 96). At the outset he cites the ruling of his teacher, Maharam of Rothenburg:
Rabbi Meir, of blessed memory, wrote: If a person’s father or mother died while he was a minor, and before thirty days had elapsed he became thirteen years and one day old, it seems to me that he is obligated to mourn once he comes of age for the seven and the thirty, and he counts not from the day of burial but from when he becomes an adult. This is like one who heard a recent report during a festival, who mourns after the festival and counts the seven and the thirty. And although there the festival days, while they do not count toward the seven, do count toward the thirty, here the days that passed during his minority do not count even toward the thirty, for with a festival the reason the thirty-day observances—namely laundering and haircutting—apply is that those restrictions also apply on the festival, since one may not cut hair or wash clothes on the festival. But during minority, mourning does not apply at all. Likewise, if he was a minor during the thirty and came of age only after the thirty, this is like a recent report during a festival that becomes a distant report after the festival, where mourning applies for only one moment, and the decree of seven and thirty no longer applies to him. Nevertheless, he completes the twelve months for his father and mother from the day of burial, and not from the day he became an adult.
Maharam rules that the minor is treated under the law of a delayed report, that is, he is obligated in mourning. Still, there is room to distinguish between such a case and an ordinary delayed report, as he himself writes:
And although one can make some distinction between hearing during a festival and the present case—for there the person is subject to obligation, only the day is what causes the delay, whereas here the person is not subject to obligation at all—and if so, we might say that since at the time of death he was not fit to mourn, he should be exempt forever.
But in the end he rejects this distinction, and brings proof for his view from the principle that there is no deferral with respect to commandments:
That is not so, for there is no deferral with respect to commandments, as stated in the chapter Kisui HaDam (87a). So too it says in Yevamot, in the chapter Arba'ah Ahin (33a), in a case where he produced two pubic hairs on the Sabbath, the prohibitions of non-priestly service and Sabbath came upon him together. And although at the twilight of that Sabbath he was a minor and was not obligated with respect to the Sabbath, we do not say that since he was deferred at twilight he is deferred for the whole day from the prohibition of that Sabbath. End quote.
His second proof comes from the passage in Yevamot 33a. There, in the course of a discussion of the rule that one prohibition does not take effect on top of another, the Talmud takes it as obvious that a minor who comes of age in the middle of the Sabbath is obligated to continue observing the Sabbath (and therefore if he performed labor or entered the Temple, the prohibitions of non-priestly service and Sabbath labor take effect upon him simultaneously). Thus we see that his having been “deferred” from that Sabbath does not exempt him from continuing to observe it. So too, Maharam of Rothenburg argues, in the case of a minor who comes of age during the days of mourning.
The Rosh, later in that discussion, opens with an apology, but in the final analysis he disagrees with his teacher. In his view, the minor is exempt from mourning when he comes of age. At the beginning of his remarks he accepts the reasoning that distinguishes between an exemption caused by the day and an exemption rooted in the person:
And although one does not answer the lion after his death, it is Torah, and I must learn; and I adopt that line of reasoning that distinguishes between a case where the person is subject to obligation and only the day causes the delay, and a minor who, at the time he ought to have mourned, was exempt because of his minority; the obligation of mourning departs from him forever…
He then brings proofs for this claim. For our purposes, however, what matters more is his rejection of Maharam’s proof from the passage in Yevamot:
And the proof he brought from one who produced two hairs on the Sabbath is no proof, because the end is not dependent on the beginning, and it is like the second Passover according to Rabbi, since at the end of the Sabbath he encountered the obligation and is obligated to keep the Sabbath.
The Rosh explains that there is a major difference between a minor who comes of age on the Sabbath and a minor who comes of age during mourning. What generates the obligation of mourning is the death of the father. If the son is a minor at that moment, then he is deferred from that commandment at the time the obligation took effect, and the question is whether, when he comes of age, the obligation can reappear. But on the Sabbath, my obligation to observe the Sabbath at any given moment in the middle of the day arises from that very moment, not from some earlier moment. Therefore it makes no difference that the person was a minor at the onset of the Sabbath up until now, because in the case of the Sabbath, the obligating factor is not the moment of entry into the Sabbath; rather, at every moment there is a new obligation generated by that moment itself. Indeed, Maharam’s words appear, at first glance, very puzzling. We will later try to explain his view.
The halakhic ruling
In Korban Netanel on the Rosh there, halakhic authorities are cited who ruled like Maharam (Rabbeinu Yerucham and the Bach, who is also cited by the Shakh there; see also the Taz there, subsec. 2, who discusses the matter at length).
As a matter of practical Jewish law, however, we have already seen in the Tur that he rules like the Rosh. So too in the Beit Yosef there:
Rabbeinu Yerucham, after bringing the words of Rabbi Meir and the words of the Rosh, wrote: Nevertheless, the words of Rabbi Meir, his teacher, are words received by tradition, all the more so for stringency. But this does not seem right to me, for we hold that the law follows the later authorities, and we also hold (Moed Katan 18a) that in mourning the law follows the lenient opinion. Therefore we adopt the view of the Rosh.
And in the Shulchan Arukh, Yoreh De'ah 396:3, the ruling is likewise according to the Rosh:
A minor whose father or mother died—even if he came of age within the seven days—the entire law of mourning no longer applies to him, and he is not obligated in it.
The reason for ruling like the Rosh is given in the Beit Yosef there: the law follows the lenient opinion in matters of mourning. That is, this is not a substantive determination but rather an application of the general rules of halakhic decision.
Explaining the dispute: back to the question of “becoming a resident”
As already mentioned, what matters for our discussion is not the mourning question itself, but rather the dispute over the proof from the passage in Yevamot. As noted, Maharam’s proof seems very puzzling. What does the Sabbath have to do with mourning? Is there really, with respect to the Sabbath, an obligating moment at the beginning of the day from which one becomes obligated to observe the rest of the Sabbath? It is not at all clear why Maharam connects this question to the rule of deferral with regard to commandments.
In explaining his view, it seems that he understood that indeed, even on the Sabbath, the first moment is what obligates the observance of the rest of the day. Therefore, if there were such a thing as deferral with regard to commandments, then anyone who was deferred at the first moment (twilight) would no longer be obligated to observe the rest of the Sabbath. Yet precisely from that point one sees, in the passage in Yevamot, that in practice there is no deferral with regard to commandments, and therefore—even though this is in fact his conception of the Sabbath, namely that there is a constitutive moment at its beginning—he is nevertheless obligated to observe the rest of the Sabbath.
We thus learn that beyond the dispute between Maharam and the Rosh about mourning and about deferral in commandments, the root of their dispute over the proof from Yevamot is a deeper question: how one understands the obligation to observe the Sabbath, and consequently the novelty of the passage in Yevamot. According to the Rosh, the obligation to observe each moment on the Sabbath arises from that very moment itself (unlike mourning), and precisely because of this a minor who comes of age in the middle of the Sabbath must complete the Sabbath; this is not a case of something deferred and then restored. By contrast, according to Maharam, the obligation to observe the Sabbath is constituted by the first moment (twilight), and from that moment one becomes obligated to observe the later moments of the Sabbath as well (just as in mourning). According to this, the novelty of the passage in Yevamot is that there is no deferral with regard to commandments, and therefore the minor who comes of age in the middle of the Sabbath must continue observing the rest of it.
We can now understand the implication for the question of becoming a resident, with which we began. Maharam of Rothenburg apparently views the festival as a single unit of time rooted in its first moment. That is the constitutive moment from which the obligation to observe the festival is generated. If so, there is certainly room to doubt that even if one decides in the middle of the second festival day to become a resident of the Land of Israel, one may still be obligated to continue observing it until the end, since after all, at the obligating moment an obligation arose to observe the whole festival day. According to the Rosh, however, each moment of the Sabbath or festival stands on its own and obligates by its own force, and therefore it is clear that in his view there is no need to keep observing the remainder of the festival after one has decided to become a resident of the Land of Israel.
Thus we can now understand both of the questions raised above: (a) the reason for doubting whether one must continue observing the second festival day even after deciding to become a resident is that there was a real possibility that the obligation established at twilight obligates the observance of the entire festival day; (b) as for Rabbi Chaim Ozer’s ruling, that too now becomes clear. We saw that, in practice, the law is like the Rosh, and therefore each moment of the second festival day stands on its own. Once the decision has been made to become a resident of the Land of Israel, there is no further reason to continue observing the whole of the second festival day.
Explaining Maharam’s view: “Once It Was Set Aside at Twilight”
As an aside, I will try to explain Maharam’s position more fully, since on its face it seems puzzling. Why think that on the Sabbath or a festival there is a constitutive moment from which we are obligated to observe the rest of the day, and therefore that if we were exempt at that moment then, according to the view that there is deferral with regard to commandments, we are no longer obligated to continue observing it? Prima facie, the obligations of Sabbath and festival at each and every moment are independent and arise from those moments themselves. That is precisely the reasoning of the Rosh, and on that basis he challenges Maharam. At first glance, this really seems self-evident.
In the laws of muktzeh (objects set aside from use on the Sabbath or festivals), we find the rule, “once it was set aside at twilight, it is set aside for the whole day.” This rule concerns a case in which an object’s muktzeh status is removed in the course of the Sabbath or festival (for example, a base on which a muktzeh object had been resting, when that object falls off during the day). In such a case, the law is that the prohibition of muktzeh remains in effect until the end of the Sabbath or festival (later I will comment on the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon, and on the practical ruling in this regard).
At first glance, the principle of “once set aside” says exactly what Maharam says: the moment of twilight determines the status of the object for the entire day. If so, we seem to have found a clear rabbinic source for Maharam of Rothenburg’s conception. If the Rosh is right that every moment of the festival or Sabbath stands on its own, then it is hard to understand why the status of the object at twilight should determine the prohibition for the entire Sabbath or festival.
The common understanding of this rule, however, is not like that. In Afikei Yam, vol. 2, sec. 17, several medieval authorities are cited (Ba'al HaMaor and others) who wrote that the rule that something remains set aside for the whole day is based on the law of prior preparation. With regard to the Sabbath and festivals, there is the verse and let them prepare what they bring, meaning that objects must be prepared in advance for use on the festivals. At the beginning of tractate Beitzah, however, we find a dispute regarding this law of preparation, and in Pesachim we find Rabbah’s view that muktzeh is prohibited by Torah law (it is possible that this follows his position at the beginning of Beitzah, as one also sees in Rashi there, 2b). In practical law, according to almost all opinions, the prohibition of muktzeh is only rabbinic. But even if it is rabbinic, both medieval and later authorities bring several proofs that the Sages established the prohibition of muktzeh as a rabbinic derivative or extension of the law of preparation. An object that was not prepared before the day began is muktzeh and is prohibited for use and handling on the Sabbath or festival. If so, it is now clear that the rule that an object remains set aside for the whole day follows directly from this conception: if an object was prohibited at the day’s twilight, it is obvious that it was not prepared beforehand. Therefore it remains prohibited for the whole day, because, after all, it was not prepared.
According to this understanding, which several medieval authorities and indeed most later authorities take for granted, the rule that something remains set aside for the whole day cannot serve as a source for Maharam’s conception. According to this explanation, it is a specific principle in the law of muktzeh, and nothing can be inferred from it about the nature of time-bound obligation in Jewish law. Certainly nothing can be derived from it with respect to the prohibitions of labor, as though there were a constitutive moment from which we become bound by those prohibitions for the entire day (do we ever find such a rule regarding the prohibitions of labor?).
But in truth, the plain wording of the principle—“once it was set aside at twilight, it is set aside for the whole day”—does not really sound like that understanding at all. The language suggests that the moment of twilight really is the determining moment for the whole Sabbath; there is indeed a constitutive moment here. What leads those medieval and later authorities to interpret it otherwise? Because they assume, on grounds of logic, that a constitutive moment is impossible. They assume that the obligations of the Sabbath or festival at every moment arise from that moment and not from any prior moment. Therefore they are forced to press the language in order to explain the logic of this rule.
By contrast, I wish to argue that Maharam actually understood the rule differently. He understood it literally: twilight is the constitutive moment, and one who was not obligated then is no longer obligated to observe that Sabbath or festival.[5] It is worth noting that in the responsa Eretz Tzvi (Fromer), sec. 44, the author discusses someone who crosses the international date line and asks whether he is obligated to begin observing the Sabbath. He makes the answer depend on our very inquiry, and suggests such an understanding of the rule that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day.
There he connects this rule to the words of the Avnei Nezer, Orach Chayim sec. 89, subsec. 4, who investigates, with respect to all time-bound Torah obligations, whether the obligation takes effect anew at every moment or not. The author of Eretz Tzvi rules there that the obligation does not take effect at every moment. Something similar is discussed in the responsa Binyan Tzion, sec. 34, regarding one who ate in the middle of Yom Kippur: is he still obligated to continue fasting for the remainder of the fast?[6] Maharsham cites a Rashba in Kiddushin 21 who explicitly obligates this, and that is also the consensus of the later authorities. In any event, from there one sees that the obligation to fast, which is a time-bound obligation, applies separately to every single moment—like the view of the Rosh in Moed Katan cited above, which we also saw is the accepted practical ruling.
Implication: “Once Set Aside Because of the Previous Day”
In any case, if we return to the question of how to understand the rule that something remains set aside for the whole day, it seems to me that the matter depends on a dispute among medieval authorities regarding something set aside because of the previous day. There is a discussion among the medieval authorities regarding a case such as an etrog on the last day of Sukkot: is it muktzeh or not? On the seventh day the etrog was set aside for its commandment, but on the eighth day there is no longer any commandment to take the four species. On the other hand, during twilight between the seventh and the eighth it was still set aside because of doubt. The question therefore arises whether we say that once it was set aside then, it remains prohibited on the eighth day as well, or not.
In Tosafot, s.v. “Nema,” Beitzah 4a (see also Sukkah 10b, Tosafot s.v. “Ad,” and Beitzah 30b s.v. “Ad,” and elsewhere), it is written:
And one may say that we do not say that, by virtue of its status then, it remains prohibited, with respect to a day that is already past; we say this only prospectively, such as twilight at the beginning of a festival, or twilight of the Sabbath, when perhaps it is already Sabbath.[7]
By contrast, the Ritva on Sukkah 46b goes to great lengths to prove that although an etrog is not muktzeh—because during twilight one must be stringent and not take it (rather, one should take it before twilight)—in the case of the sukkah, even during twilight one must be stringent and sit in it if one wishes to eat, and therefore the sukkah will remain muktzeh even on the eighth day:
The reason is that, because with respect to the Sabbath and festivals it is written, “and let them prepare,” so that an ordinary weekday should prepare for the Sabbath while it is still day, the Sages relied on this to prohibit muktzeh on the Sabbath and festivals if it did not have actual prior preparation while it was still day, even if it does have preparation on the festival or Sabbath itself. Therefore, a sukkah that was set aside for its commandment on the seventh day, at twilight, did not have preparation for the eighth day while it was still daytime, and so it is prohibited for the whole day. But an etrog, which is not fit at twilight, its set-aside status is removed while it is still daytime on the eighth, and it is prepared for the eighth; therefore it is permitted…
We thus see that according to him one does say that something remains set aside because of the previous day.
At first glance, this dispute depends on how one understands the rule that something remains set aside for the whole day. Tosafot’s reasoning is that even if the sukkah is prohibited at twilight out of doubt, the entire prohibition exists only because twilight may belong to the previous day. If so, there is not even one moment on the eighth day itself at which the sukkah was prohibited, and therefore, either way, it is permitted throughout the entire eighth day. If it was prohibited at twilight, that means twilight belongs to the seventh day, in which case there is certainly no basis to prohibit the sukkah on the eighth day by saying that once it was set aside, it remains so. And if the sukkah was not prohibited during the twilight of the eighth day, then certainly there is no reason at all to prohibit it on the eighth day on that basis. Either way, then, the sukkah is permitted on the eighth day.
What does the Ritva hold? In the passage cited above he explicitly writes that the law of muktzeh is based on a rabbinic extension of the law of preparation. Therefore, according to his view, even if the object was prohibited throughout the seventh day, after all it was not prepared for the eighth, and therefore it should be prohibited. In his view there is no need for a moment on the eighth day itself at which the object is prohibited in order to prohibit the whole day. It is enough that it was prohibited throughout the seventh day. Therefore, according to him, one says that something remains set aside because of the previous day.
What do Tosafot hold? From Tosafot it emerges clearly that for an object to become prohibited by virtue of having been set aside, there must be a moment of prohibition in that object on that very day itself—that is, on the eighth day. Therefore, according to them, a prohibition because of the previous day does not generate the rule that it remains set aside for the whole day. Thus Tosafot understood that rule like the aforementioned Eretz Tzvi: once the object is prohibited for one moment of the day, it is prohibited for the rest of the day, and not because of the law of preparation. My claim is that Maharam of Rothenburg understood it the same way. There is an underlying conception here regarding the essence of time-bound obligations of Sabbaths and festivals: all of them are generated by the first moment, which serves as a constitutive moment for the obligation to observe that day. This is not merely a special rule in muktzeh, as would seem from the Ritva and Ba'al HaMaor.
Three side points
Three points that require clarification in this matter are: muktzeh for half a Sabbath, the law of nolad, and the practical ruling regarding the principle that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day. We will consider them briefly.
A. In the passage in Beitzah 26b, there is a discussion whether there is muktzeh for half a Sabbath or not, and as a matter of law we rule that there is not. The case is that of an object that was permitted and then became prohibited in the middle of the Sabbath, and later became permitted again (for example, a muktzeh object placed on a base on the Sabbath and later falling off it during the day). In Afikei Yam there, he already notes that if the understanding of muktzeh is that the object is prohibited because it did not undergo prior preparation before the day began, then it is hard to understand why there would even be a possibility of muktzeh for half a Sabbath. After all, the object was permitted at twilight, and therefore it did undergo prior preparation. He explains there that according to that view, the object is regarded as though it had been newly created, and therefore it is not considered prepared beforehand. This is like nolad (see below). However, the author of Eretz Tzvi cites this very passage as proof for his view. It should be noted that as a matter of law we hold that there is no muktzeh for half a Sabbath, and it may be that this itself is the point of dispute, so no proof can be brought from there.
On the other hand, if there is no muktzeh for half a Sabbath, then at first glance this seems clearly to contradict what we have proposed. After all, the object is prohibited for a certain time, and then permitted for the rest of the Sabbath. This seems to show that each moment can be considered separately. But this is not conclusive, for it can be explained that precisely because the object was permitted at twilight, its status for the rest of the day remains open—in other words, that at every moment it is judged anew. A prohibition arising at some later moment in the day does not prohibit the whole day. Only a prohibition at twilight prohibits the whole day, because twilight is the constitutive moment.[8]
B. The law of nolad should also be reconsidered in light of our discussion. Prima facie, one who holds that nolad is a category of muktzeh does so because the object did not yet exist before the day began, and therefore did not undergo prior preparation. According to the views of Ba'al HaMaor and the Ritva, that alone is enough to prohibit it. But according to the understanding of Tosafot and Maharam, it is not enough that the object failed to undergo prior preparation (for that is also true in a case of something set aside because of the previous day); rather, it must have been prohibited for at least one moment of that very day. But an object that has just come into being was of course not prohibited at any earlier moment of that day, so why should they prohibit it? It may be argued that the prohibition of nolad is a separate prohibition, especially since one must distinguish among different types of nolad. The later authorities have already discussed this at length, and this is not the place for it.[9]
C. The practical ruling also requires discussion. The law of muktzeh is disputed among the tannaim: according to Rabbi Shimon there is no muktzeh; according to Rabbi Yehuda there is. In practice, most decisors rule like Rabbi Shimon with respect to the Sabbath and like Rabbi Yehuda with respect to festivals. Rabbi Akiva Eiger, in his glosses to the Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim sec. 308 (at the beginning of the section, and also on the Magen Avraham, subsec. 19), explains that the dispute among the tannaim concerns only the rule that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day; according to him, in practical law on the Sabbath there is no such rule. To be sure, certain forms of muktzeh do exist even on the Sabbath (those in which Rabbi Shimon agrees), but not this whole-day carryover rule. At first glance, according to this, one cannot say what we suggested here, because with respect to the Sabbath there would be no room to speak of a constitutive moment even according to Maharam and Tosafot’s understanding of that rule. However, many disagree with Rabbi Akiva Eiger on this point (chief among them the Ran; see Afikei Yam, vol. 2, sec. 19), and maintain that even on the Sabbath, as a matter of law, there is a whole-day carryover rule, and that the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon concerns the prohibition of muktzeh itself, and not only that specific rule.[10]
Our discussion of becoming a resident in the middle of the second festival day, however, concerns a festival and not the Sabbath, and with respect to festivals there is certainly, according to all views, such a whole-day carryover rule. Therefore, even without entering into this passage, it seems that Rabbi Genihovsky’s question can be resolved on the basis of Maharam’s words, as I explained above.
A secondary consideration of “lo plug”
There is room to discuss the question of becoming a resident from another, side consideration as well. In his discussion of the date line in the Kuntres Yud-Chet Sha'ot, the Chazon Ish writes, following the Kuzari, that the line passes 90° east of Jerusalem. But since that location falls within China, and it does not make sense that in one place on land people should observe the Sabbath while next to them others observe an ordinary weekday, he innovated that the line never passes through dry land, and thus “moved” it eastward to the coastline of China. On that basis he ruled that the day which the residents of Japan regarded as Sunday was in fact the Sabbath. His fundamental reasoning is that it is absurd to divide one stretch of land into two different dates, such that in the same place some observe Sabbath practice while others observe weekday practice.
According to this line of reasoning, someone raised the following objection (in the forum discussion mentioned above): is it not similarly absurd that a person should observe festival practice for half a day and ordinary weekday practice for the other half? To that I would answer on several levels: (a) some disagreed with the Chazon Ish on this point (Rabbi Tukachinsky, in Hayomam Bekadur HaAretz, and others); (b) beyond that, in the case of the date line there was the possibility of determining that the line passes through the sea and not through land. Here, however, we are not dealing with the placement of a line but with a substantive question. Therefore there is no alternative determination available here, except perhaps to require that sanctity be observed for the whole day. But that would impose an obligation with no basis, since this is a person who has already decided not to return abroad. Therefore the case here is not comparable to the date-line question; (c) one must distinguish between a single place in which some of its inhabitants observe the Sabbath and others an ordinary weekday—which is a conspicuous public matter—and a single individual who is, in fact, now following the custom of his place, because he is now in the Land of Israel. After all, if he were required to observe the rest of the festival day, he would be even more anomalous relative to his surroundings.
One who was sane and became insane
It was also suggested there in the forum that, in light of our discussion, one should consider the law of a person who was sane and became insane in the middle of the Sabbath or a festival. Prima facie, according to Maharam’s reasoning, he should have to continue observing the rest of the Sabbath, since at twilight he was sane and had already become obligated in the observance of the entire Sabbath. But it seems to me that this is not so, because even if, in terms of the pure law, we would obligate him to observe the Sabbath, an insane person or a minor is not a person subject to obligation. Therefore, even if in the abstract legal sense he is indeed obligated to observe the rest of the day, there is no addressee to whom that demand can be directed. This is a person who is not subject to obligation.
Rabbi Genihovsky’s riddle, and another one
For the elevation of the soul of RAG, of blessed memory (this article was written during the seven-day mourning period after his death), let us cite here something from his lecture on Kol HaLashon. There he deals mainly with the various halakhic implications of Rabbi Chaim Ozer’s ruling, regarding prayer, the three meals, Grace after Meals, Hallel, tefillin, and more. Several of his remarks there could be discussed at great length, but this is not the place. Here I will only mention that the lecture opens with a riddle: how can it be that three brothers, all children of the same father and mother, are standing in synagogue on the first day of the intermediate days of Passover; one recites full Hallel, the second recites half Hallel, and the third recites the first chapter omitted in half Hallel—Not to us, O Lord, not to us—while skipping the second chapter—I love that the Lord hears?
His answer there is that one brother is a resident of the Land of Israel, and his two brothers from abroad are staying with him on the first day of the intermediate days of Passover. The brother from the Land of Israel recites half Hallel as is done on the intermediate days, while one of the brothers from abroad intends to return abroad, and therefore recites full Hallel as on the first festival day (for him this is the second festival day observed in the Diaspora). The third brother recited the first chapter because he thought he was returning abroad, and then, in the middle of Hallel, decided to stay and become a resident of the Land of Israel. From that moment on he recited half Hallel, and therefore he says only the first chapter and not the second.[11]
Of course, one can expand the riddle to four brothers: one recites both chapters, the second recites neither of them, the third recites the first but not the second, and the fourth recites the second but not the first. How does the situation of the fourth brother arise?
If you have plowed with my heifer, you can find my riddle…
Conclusion
We began with Rabbi Chaim Ozer’s ruling regarding someone who decides in the middle of the second festival day to remain in the Land of Israel: such a person may stop observing the festival in the middle of the day. We wondered what the grounds for doubt were, and why the ruling was lenient. We explained that the sides of the doubt depend on the question whether the obligations of Sabbath and festival arise from a constitutive moment at the beginning of the day, or whether each moment constitutes an independent obligation. We saw that Maharam of Rothenburg and the Rosh dispute this question, and that according to most decisors the law follows the Rosh, which fits the rulings of Rabbi Chaim Ozer and the Chazon Ish. We then examined the implications of these two conceptions for the understanding of the rule that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day, and saw that here too one can identify a dispute among medieval authorities, with the concrete implication being the question of something set aside because of the previous day. We concluded with the riddle through which RAG, of blessed memory, presented the question, together with a slight expansion of it, which we leave as an amusement for the reader.
Abstract
We discuss a problem raised by Rabbi Abraham Genihovsky, of blessed memory, concerning a visitor from abroad who decides in the middle of the second festival day to remain in Israel. Several halakhic decisors ruled that he may stop observing the festival, and we explain both the grounds for doubt and the practical ruling. We show that the issue depends on the halakhic character of the obligation to observe festival days: is there a defining moment that establishes the obligation for the entire day, or does each moment stand on its own? We point to disputes among medieval authorities on this issue, especially in the context of the principle that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day in the laws of muktzeh. We conclude with an illustration in the form of a riddle, in memory of Rabbi Abraham Genihovsky.
[1] The newspaper Hamodia, Sabbath of Parashat Bereshit, 5773. The newspaper itself was not before me, and I take the report from the internet forum “Atzor Kan Hoshvim”: http://www.bhol.co.il/forums/topic.asp?whichpage=1&topic_id=2979781&forum_id=1364
After some time I was directed to RAG’s lecture on this topic on “Kol HaLashon,” delivered during the intermediate days of Passover, 18 Nisan 5767 (lecture 12 in the list of RAG’s 36 lectures; he is rabbi no. 33 in the telephone listing), where he addresses the matter. I thank my friend R. Eli Eisenberg for directing me to that lecture on “Kol HaLashon,” and also for pointing me to the responsa Lehorot Natan and to the incident cited in Yeshurun, vol. 11, which will be mentioned in the notes below.
[2] I will not enter here into the fascinating question whether this really works retroactively—that is, whether, when they decide not to return, that prevents the prohibition retroactively, or whether, if they do decide to return, it becomes clear retroactively that she violated the laws of muktzeh on the second festival day. This should be connected to the rule of “saving a blessing,” meaning a case in which someone recited a blessing and only afterward decided that he does not wish to eat (see on this in the fourth book in the series Talmudic Logic, Logic of Time in the Talmud, Michael Abraham, Israel Belfer, Dov Gabay, and Uri Schild, College Publications, London 2011; briefly in chapter 12 regarding conditions, and in greater detail, in connection with other contexts, in chapter 20).
There is also room to discuss, even if this does work to repair the prohibition retroactively, whether the husband is obligated to comply and not return abroad merely so that his wife should not violate the second festival day (especially since the obligation is only rabbinic). As a matter of logic it seems obvious that he is not; see our discussion there, though this is not the place for it.
[3] After some time I was shown the discussion in the responsa Lehorot Natan, by Rabbi Natan Gestetner, vol. 12, secs. 27–30 (it is also mentioned in the lecture on “Kol HaLashon”). There one sees that the question was asked of the Chazon Ish at the beginning of 5710, and he immediately answered that one may stop observing the second festival day even in the middle of the day.
There, in sec. 27, he tries to bring proofs for this ruling, and in conclusion he infers from the Ritva on Eruvin 39a that there is no impediment to stopping in the middle of the festival day; see there. In the continuation of his discussion, secs. 28–30, the issue is only whether, when he accepted the festival upon himself on the festival night, he is obligated to complete it because of a self-imposed prohibition, but not whether this is an obligation by the basic law itself.
From all this it emerges that he deals only with technical questions (such as self-imposed prohibition and the like), but as to the basic law it is clear to him that one should stop in the middle. In this article we are dealing with the substantive question, and below we will see a possible side according to which, by the basic law itself, one should continue observing the whole second festival day.
It should also be noted that in the lecture on “Kol HaLashon” it is mentioned that Minchat Yitzchak, vol. 7, sec. 34, also ruled like the Chazon Ish, and cited there that Minchat Elazar, vol. 3, sec. 53, remained in doubt because he had accepted upon himself the sanctity of the day. In all these discussions, the issue revolves around the passage in Rosh Hashanah 30b, they treat that day as holy and the next day as holy. But that passage is not decisive, as Lehorot Natan, sec. 27, showed.
[4] In RAG’s lecture it sounds as though the Chazon Ish passed Rabbi Natan Gestetner’s question on to Rabbi Chaim Ozer, but that is of course impossible (Rabbi Chaim Ozer died in 1940, when Rabbi Natan Gestetner was an eight-year-old child; see Wikipedia, entry “Natan Gestetner”). I therefore assume that the Chazon Ish asked such a question (or a similar one) to Rabbi Chaim Ozer many years earlier. Indeed, I was directed to Yeshurun, vol. 11, p. 197, where it is reported that Rabbi Shach, of blessed memory, said that he was with Rabbi Chaim Ozer in 1934, when the Chazon Ish’s question arrived concerning a ship that reached the Land of Israel in the middle of the second festival day. The incident is also mentioned briefly, without a source, in the lecture on “Kol HaLashon.”
[5] Many medieval and later authorities discussed the rationale of the prohibition of muktzeh and offered several reasons beyond the law of preparation. But the Talmud explicitly indicates that muktzeh is connected to preparation, and therefore those other reasons only supplement that idea (or else they were stated only with respect to eating and not handling, or the reverse; this is not our concern here). Indeed, with respect to the principle that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day, almost all later authorities hold that it is based on the conception of muktzeh as an extension of the law of preparation. See Shevut Yitzchak, by Rabbi Drazi, sec. 1, and more.
[6] Other later authorities also discussed this. See Hamo'adim Behalakha, by Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, on Yom Kippur in chapter 2 (especially around notes 37–38), and also in my book Two Carts and a Hot-Air Balloon, gate 13, chapter 3, section 3, on the relationship between a law’s formal definition and its rationale.
[7] Specifically with regard to the etrog, however, there are opinions that say it is muktzeh because of the previous day, since it is set aside for the sake of its commandment; see Tosafot there. For our purposes here, however, only the principle matters.
[8] Note that the prohibition of muktzeh at those particular moments of the Sabbath when the object truly is muktzeh does not depend on the general whole-day carryover rule (that is, the rule that once it was set aside at twilight, it remains so for the whole day).
[9] See also at the beginning of Beitzah (2a) the discussion whether one who accepts muktzeh also accepts nolad, and the medieval and later authorities there.
[10] See, for example, Rabbi Shlomo Ona’s book Kovetz Inyanim beSugyat Muktzeh, sec. 15. See there also his discussion of the rule that something set aside at twilight remains set aside for the whole day.
[11] With regard to Hallel, however, there is room for discussion, for it turns out that he recited a Hallel that is neither complete nor half-complete, and it is not clear whether it would not have been preferable simply to recite full Hallel (after all, there is no prohibition in doing so).