Be'er Bulletin – 5764

Dedicated to Cohort B of 'Be'er' at the end of the year (5764)

0. General Introduction: Jewish law, commandments, and what lies beyond them

It is commonly accepted that the foundation of the entire Torah is Jewish law. Yeshayahu Leibowitz already formulated this sharply (as was his way), saying that various sects and movements were included within Judaism, or departed from it, not because of their outlooks, but solely in light of their commitment to Jewish law. For example, Hasidism, despite its innovative views that seemed to many to lie outside the traditional framework, is today included within the framework of halakhic Judaism (what is now called 'Orthodoxy'). By contrast, Karaism and the like were decisively placed outside the boundary solely because of the absence of commitment to Jewish law. Many have already noted that even Spinoza, who is today regarded as a heretic because of his views, was excluded from traditional Judaism mainly because the conclusions of those views entailed a lack of commitment to Jewish law.

And yet, despite all this, there are quite a few extremely fundamental aspects of the Torah that do not enter the system of commandments. It is clear, however, that this does not always happen because they are less important; sometimes it is precisely because of their great importance. As we shall see below, some of the most basic spiritual-religious obligations do not enter the system of commandments precisely because of their importance. As our discussion proceeds, we shall see that some of them do indeed have halakhic expressions, but these are only partial.

There are quite a few examples of this basic principle. We shall discuss some of the most important of them, one by one.

1. The commandment of repentance.
2. Character refinement.
3. Torah study.
4. Love of God.
5. Choice.

Those among these examples that do appear in the enumeration of the commandments appear immediately at its beginning (and therefore they are also detailed in Maimonides' Book of Knowledge, which is the first and most basic of the fourteen books of the Mishneh Torah). This indicates that they constitute the most fundamental basis of the Torah and of the service of God. As we shall see below, even those that do appear there are not included in Jewish law in their entirety, but only in a small part of what they are. And there are some that are not included in the enumeration of the commandments at all (choice, and according to some views also character improvement and repentance).

In the course of discussing these topics we shall see several different mechanisms that can explain this unique phenomenon: why such basic matters do not fully enter the system of commandments.

It should be noted that most of these matters are discussed by Maimonides within the Laws of Repentance. Later in our remarks we shall draw conclusions from this regarding the nature of these laws in Maimonides.

In light of the above, questions arise regarding commandments such as faith in God, which do enter the system of commandments despite being among the cornerstones of Torah and Jewish law. Therefore, we shall conclude with a discussion of the commandment of faith, which opens Maimonides' enumeration of the commandments.

1. The Commandment of Repentance

Nachmanides, in his commentary on Deuteronomy (beginning of chapter 30), states simply that there is a commandment to repent. This commandment is derived from the verse (ibid.): 'and you shall return to the Lord your God' (and you shall return to the Lord your God).

By contrast, Maimonides in the Laws of Repentance (7:5) writes that this verse is a promise from God that Israel will ultimately repent. As Nachmanides himself already notes (ibid.), according to Maimonides this is not a positive commandment but a prophecy and a promise.

Now there is a well-known contradiction in Maimonides' writings regarding the commandment of repentance. On the one hand, in the Book of Commandments (commandment 73) he writes:

'He commanded us to confess the sins and iniquities we committed before God, and to state them together with repentance.' (He commanded us to confess the sins and iniquities we committed before God, and to state them together with repentance.)

If so, in the Book of Commandments the matter of confession is presented as a conditional commandment. If one repents, he must say confession together with the repentance. Repentance itself is not mentioned at all in Maimonides' enumeration of the commandments.

And this is the conclusion drawn by the author of Minhat Hinukh (commandment 364), who explains that if one did not repent, he incurs no punishment at all for not repenting (he is punished only for the transgression he committed). He adds that even if one repented but did not confess, he did not violate any positive commandment of confession, for this is not an obligatory commandment at all (it is an 'existential' commandment: one who performs it receives reward, but one who does not perform it has not nullified anything).

In light of what emerges from Maimonides' words quoted above, this is clear and straightforward. It is unreasonable that someone who repented but did not confess should be worse than someone who did not repent at all.

Admittedly, this last consideration is based on the assumption that there is no doubt that repentance, even if it is not included in the enumeration of the commandments, has positive value. We shall return to this point below.

Against all this, in the enumeration of the commandments before the Laws of Repentance he writes:

'One positive commandment: that the sinner should return from his sin before the Lord and confess.' (One positive commandment: that the sinner should return from his sin before the Lord and confess.)

From here, apparently, a different picture emerges. A person who sinned is commanded to turn back from his evil deeds, and in addition he is also commanded to confess. Here repentance is an obligatory positive commandment (so that one who does not perform it sins thereby by failing to perform a positive commandment), and it appears that it is indeed included in the enumeration of the commandments.

Various approaches have been suggested in explaining Maimonides' view. We shall propose here one approach, based on the principle established at the outset of our remarks.

Maimonides holds that repentance is a great spiritual level, and it is clear that there is a full obligation to repent of our evil deeds. But in his view such an obligation has no place within the framework of the enumeration of the commandments. This is an obligation outside the halakhic framework.

For this reason, in his Book of Commandments, where Maimonides counts the commandments included in the Torah's formal enumeration, the commandment of repentance does not appear as a positive commandment. The reason is that in that enumeration Maimonides counts everything we were commanded in the Torah as a commandment. But in his Mishneh Torah, Maimonides seeks to gather everything that a Jew is obligated to do (whether because it is commanded, or for some other reason, such as rabbinic commandments, health practices, correct beliefs, character traits, and the like). Therefore, there the obligation to repent does appear. So even according to Maimonides there is an obligation to repent, but it is not considered a positive commandment.

The reason the obligation to repent is not included in the enumeration of the commandments is that including it there would change its basic character. Someone who repents by virtue of a command is not like someone who does so out of an understanding that he must return from his evil deeds. Of course, this does not detract in the slightest from the force of the obligation to return. On the contrary, this consideration shows that the obligation to return is so fundamental that including it in the enumeration of the commandments would diminish its value and place it as merely one among the 613 commandments.

2. Character Refinement

A discussion similar to the one we conducted regarding the commandment of repentance can also be held regarding the obligation to work on and improve our character traits.

Some enumerators of the commandments include the obligation to improve our traits within the positive commandment of 'and you shall walk in His ways' (and you shall walk in His ways). Maimonides in the Book of Commandments (positive commandment 8) writes as follows:

'The eighth commandment is that we are commanded to emulate Him, may He be exalted, to the extent of our ability. This is what He said (Deuteronomy 28): "And you shall walk in His ways." And this command was repeated when He said (Deuteronomy 10 and Deuteronomy 11): "to walk in all His ways."'

'And the explanation given is: Just as the Holy One, blessed be He, is called compassionate, so you too should be compassionate. Just as the Holy One, blessed be He, is called gracious, so you too should be gracious. Just as the Holy One, blessed be He, is called righteous, so you too should be righteous. Just as the Holy One, blessed be He, is called pious, so you too should be pious. This is the language of the Sifrei (at the end of Ekev).'

'And this command was repeated in another formulation, when it says (Deuteronomy 13): "You shall walk after the Lord your God." It is also explained (Sotah 14a) that its meaning is to emulate the good deeds and noble traits by which God, may He be exalted beyond all comparison, is described metaphorically.'

In other words, Maimonides understands this as an obligation to imitate God's good actions and noble traits.

On the other hand, there are those who do not find a clear halakhic source for the obligation to improve one's traits. I am not sure whether this stems from disagreement with these words of Maimonides, or because the commandment to walk in God's ways does not include the full obligation to improve our traits (for several reasons, and this is not the place to elaborate).

For example, it is well known that Rabbi Hayyim Vital (the foremost disciple of the Ari) asked: why did the Torah not command us to improve our character traits? He answers that the obligation to improve one's traits is a precondition for a person to be subject to command at all. If one needs to be commanded to improve his traits, the command will help him nothing.

Some formulated this differently: improvement of character traits is part of the most basic form of being human. If someone is not within the category of a human being in this sense, one cannot command him in commandments.

Let us bring an example of this from that well-known story about the yeshiva student who reached the chapter 'A man betroths [a woman],' and began meeting pious maidens for the sake of fulfilling the important commandment of 'be fruitful and multiply.' After some time he rejected them all, saying that he had not found anyone suitable for him. The spiritual supervisor in that yeshiva called him in and told him that he needed to work on improving his character traits, because he seemed to be arrogant. It was implausible that not a single one of all those lovely young women was suitable for the splendor of his exalted self.

After a year of intensive character work, the student returned to the supervisor and told him that he was ready to begin the process again. But it seems that nothing had changed. He once again rejected all those same young women he met, exactly as in the previous round. When the supervisor asked him how this fit with the intensive character work he had done over the course of the year, the student answered: 'If last year, when I was arrogant, not one of those girls suited me, then all the more so now, after a year of work, when I am already famously humble, not one of them will suit me.'

This is exactly what someone looks like who works on his traits because there is a commandment, or a clause in Jewish law, requiring him to improve them. Character refinement must come from self-awareness of the importance of the matter, not from submission to a command.

Rabbi Kook, in several of his letters, formulates this even more sharply. The Sages teach us a revolutionary idea: 'Greater is one who is commanded and performs than one who is not commanded and performs.' Whatever the explanation may be, it is clear that there are matters regarding which our basic intuition still holds true: specifically the greater person is the one who is not commanded and does. We are dealing here with several examples of such matters. Character refinement is one of the clearest among them.

3. Torah Study

It is one of the commonplaces that Torah study is the foundation of the entire Torah. Sages throughout the generations have greatly expanded upon the importance of this commandment. Thus Maimonides writes in commandment 11:

'It is that He commanded us to study the wisdom of the Torah and to teach it. This is what is called Torah study, as it says in the section of the Shema: "And you shall teach them diligently to your children"… And there (in the Sifrei) it says: "And you shall teach them diligently"—so that the words should be sharp in your mouth. If someone asks you something, do not stammer, but answer him immediately. And this command has been repeated many times… and the encouragement regarding this commandment, and the duty to be constantly diligent in it, is scattered throughout many places in the Talmud.'

One of the strongest expressions of the importance of the commandment of Torah study is the concept of 'neglect of Torah study' (which already appears in the Talmud, and is also hinted at in Maimonides' wording above). Whenever a person is not studying Torah, not only does he fail to receive reward for the commandment, he is punished for the prohibition of neglecting Torah study.

A piquant example of the depth of this principle can be seen in a famous difficulty. There is a well-known saying of the Sages: 'Torah study is set aside for the reading of the Megillah' (Torah study is set aside for the reading of the Megillah). Several commentators asked: what neglect of Torah study is there here? Is the reading of the Megillah not itself included in the category of Torah study?

Some answer this in light of the Hazon Ish's determination that there is a concept of 'qualitative neglect of Torah study.' There are types of Torah study that are included in the commandment of Torah study, but since they constitute an inferior kind, they contain an element of neglect of Torah study. This is neglect in terms of the quality of the study. The reading of the Megillah is an important commandment because of publicizing the miracle, and everyone is obligated in it on Purim. Yet reading the Megillah is still regarded as qualitative neglect of Torah study compared to analytical study of Jewish law. The depth of analysis in Torah is what defines the quality of the study.

And yet, precisely against the background of all that has been said above, we find a surprising law. In the Talmud (Menahot 99b), Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai rules (of all people! In the Talmud there he is presented as one who is stringent regarding Torah study, against the view of Rabbi Yishmael[1]):

'Anyone who recites the Shema morning and evening thereby fulfills the commandment, "This book of the Torah shall not depart from your mouth."'

From here it follows that it is enough to recite the Shema morning and evening in order to fulfill the obligation of the commandment of Torah study. If so, it is not clear how one can explain the treatment of every moment in which one is not studying Torah as 'neglect of Torah study.'

Admittedly, one could still have said that 'shall not depart' is only one of the commandments of Torah study (in Maimonides above we saw that the command was repeated several times). But perhaps there are additional commandments that obligate us to meditate upon it constantly.

However, from the plain meaning of the Talmud in Nedarim it appears that this is not correct. The Talmud in tractate Nedarim (8a) brings the following law:

'Rabbi Giddel said in the name of Rav: One who says, "I will rise early and study this chapter; I will study this tractate," has made a great vow to the God of Israel.'

That is, an oath to study a chapter of Torah is a valid oath (and not a vow). The Talmud then objects:

'But is he not already under oath, and an oath cannot take effect upon an oath?'

That is, an oath to do something a person is already bound by Jewish law to do cannot take effect. The Talmud answers:

'This is what he teaches us: since he could exempt himself by reciting the Shema morning and evening, therefore the oath takes effect upon him.'

The Talmud is saying that Rabbi Giddel teaches us a novel point in the laws of Torah study. Following Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai's statement above, Rabbi Giddel teaches us that in fact there is no obligation to study a particular chapter or Mishnah, and therefore this oath is an oath to do something one is not already obligated to do. Such an oath is valid. If so, it follows that there is no Torah-level obligation, from any verse whatsoever, to study Torah beyond the obligation to recite the Shema morning and evening.

It should be noted that the medieval authorities there disagree on this point. From the Rosh's commentary there (and so too from the words of the anonymous commentator printed in place of Rashi) it appears that indeed there is no obligation at all to study Torah beyond reciting the Shema morning and evening. The Ran disagrees and maintains that there is an obligation to study all the time, but this is not really a Torah-level obligation. In any case, it turns out that there is no ordinary positive commandment to study all the time, or to study the whole Torah. How does this fit with the concept of 'neglect of Torah study'?

Here again we encounter an exceedingly fundamental Torah matter, Torah study, which seems to be something about whose importance all commentators and halakhic decisors agree there is no measure (it is explicit in the Talmud in several places that neglect of Torah study is a grave sin for which one is punished). Even so, it is not fully included within the formal halakhic framework (the enumeration of the commandments). True, in Maimonides' enumeration of the commandments it does appear (and it is even said there that there is an obligation to study every moment), but from the Talmud and the medieval authorities cited above it appears that it does not have such a halakhic status.[2]

Let us note that Maimonides indeed does not discuss in detail the obligation of Torah study in the Laws of Repentance. In the final chapter he briefly discusses the duty to study for its own sake, and even this appears to be part of the general duty to serve God for His sake and out of love. Perhaps this follows from his different approach to this commandment, as we saw above (perhaps he understands that this is a regular commandment like the others, unlike the Ran and the Rosh mentioned above). See more on this in the chapter below on the meaning of the Laws of Repentance.

4. Love of God

Another commandment, which also appears at the beginning of Maimonides' enumeration of the commandments, is the commandment to love God. Thus he writes in commandment 3:

'It is that He commanded us to love Him, may He be exalted. This means that we should contemplate and understand His commandments and His actions until we apprehend Him and delight in that apprehension with the utmost delight. This is the obligatory love.'

'And the language of the Sifrei (parashat Shema) is: Since it says, "And you shall love the Lord your God," I do not know how one loves the Omnipresent. Therefore Scripture says: "And these words, which I command you today, shall be upon your heart." From this you come to know the One who spoke and brought the world into being.'

Maimonides then details that we are charged with making God beloved to other people, and that we should preach, call, and bring everyone back to His service and to faith in Him, as Abraham our father did.

The details of the laws relating to love of God appear in chapter 2 of the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah. There Maimonides details that the basic obligation is:

'to contemplate His great and wondrous works and creatures, and from them see His wisdom, which has no measure or end; immediately he loves, praises, glorifies, and longs with a great longing to know the great Name.'

Immediately afterward Maimonides begins to spell out, over the course of three chapters, his cosmology (spheres, angels, and the like), as part of the path to love of God:

'According to these matters, I will explain great principles from the works of the Master of the universe, so that they may serve as an opening for one who understands to love God, as the Sages said concerning love: "From this you come to know the One who spoke and brought the world into being."'

It is worth noting the difference between the two formulations: in the Book of Commandments Maimonides states that one should contemplate His commandments and His acts in order to delight in apprehending Him. Here Maimonides states that we must contemplate His works and His creatures, and this is also what emerges from the discussion that follows immediately afterward.

In any case, it is quite clear that contemplation is only an instrument of the commandment. There is no commandment to study the natural sciences; rather, this is an instrument of commandment, through which one fulfills the commandment of love of God. The intention with which one studies determines whether there is fulfillment of a commandment here or not. The same is true regarding 'contemplation of His commandments,' in the formulation of the Book of Commandments. Here too it appears that Torah study is an instrument for fulfilling the commandment of love of God. Of course, Torah study is also a distinct commandment in its own right, and we have already addressed that above. But, as we already noted above, according to Maimonides himself the status of this commandment is not really clear.

Now at the end of the Laws of Repentance Maimonides returns to deal with love of God. The entirety of chapter 10 is devoted to the obligation to serve God out of love and not out of fear. This, according to Maimonides, is serving God 'for its own sake.'[3] In law 2 and law 3 Maimonides writes as follows:

'One who serves out of love occupies himself with Torah and commandments and walks in the paths of wisdom, not because of anything in the world—not from fear of evil and not in order to inherit the good, but he does the truth because it is truth, and ultimately good will come because of it… This is the level to which the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded us through Moses our teacher, as it is said: "And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might." And when one loves God with the proper love, he will immediately perform all the commandments out of love.'

'And what is the proper love? It is that one should love the Lord with an exceedingly great and intense love… like one lovesick, whose mind is never free from love of that woman with whom he is obsessed constantly, whether sitting or rising, even while eating and drinking… And the entire Song of Songs is a parable for this matter.'

It is puzzling that it is specifically in the Laws of Repentance that Maimonides spells out the definition of the commandment of love of God. In the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah, where the main discussion of love of God is found (as is explicit in the enumeration of the commandments at the beginning of those laws), there is only a laconic discussion, dealing mainly with the path to love and not with the definition of the commandment itself.

Maimonides concludes the chapter in the Laws of Repentance as follows:

'Therefore a person must devote himself to understanding and gaining wisdom in the sciences and insights that make his Creator known to him, according to the capacity that a human being has to understand and attain, as we explained in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah.'

Here, in effect, everything Maimonides wrote in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah is included: the obligation to know God intellectually as a path to loving Him.

It seems that the solution to this problem also lies in the principle on which we are insisting in these pages. The commandment to love God is a commandment like any of the other 612 commandments. But the principle of love of God as a foundational principle in the service of God is one of the cornerstones of Torah and of the service of God in general. This principle does not enter the formal halakhic mold, because bringing it into that mold would diminish it.

The elementary halakhic threshold, which obligates everyone, is to learn about reality and about the commandments in order to arrive at love. That is what is detailed in the laws of love of God (which appear in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah). The practical obligation is far broader. In truth, a person must be constantly absorbed in the love of God. He must also fulfill all the commandments out of love of God.

Of course, fulfilling commandments out of love of God would itself constitute fulfillment of the commandment of love of God, but this is not a halakhic obligation imposed on everyone. The reason is that if it were imposed as an obligation, it would neutralize its central value (as we saw above regarding character traits). And perhaps there is also another reason: perfect love is a great spiritual level that it is difficult to demand of everyone. Jewish law sets as a requirement only the minimal threshold demanded of each person according to his ability.

In any case, it is clear that there is no concession or diminution here in the value of the obligation to love God. The reason it is not fully included within the halakhic framework and the enumeration of the commandments is precisely because of its greatness and importance, not because its value is lesser.

But it seems that here an additional explanation appears, of a different character from those we have encountered thus far, for the fact that love of God is not included in the enumeration of the commandments in full. Maimonides determines in the fourth principle (compare also his words in the ninth principle) that one must not count among the commandments directives that encompass the whole Torah. His examples are 'You shall keep My statutes,' 'You shall keep My charge,' 'You shall be holy,' and the like.

Some of these directives are not counted because they contain no practical content beyond the obligations already included in the other commandments. They are a repetition without independent halakhic content. But in some of them (such as 'You shall be holy,' and see Nachmanides' commentary at the beginning of Parashat Kedoshim) it seems that there lies the principle that something too basic cannot be included in the enumeration of the commandments. This is a root that accompanies each and every commandment, and logically it cannot be counted as merely one of the other ordinary commandments.

Love of God too, beyond its importance and fundamental character, is a comprehensive commandment. As we saw, all the commandments are to be performed out of love. If so, there is a logical problem in including this obligation itself in the enumeration of the commandments. Just imagine: how could one fulfill the commandment of love of God itself (if it itself were included in the enumeration of the commandments) out of love? Or not out of love?

In other words: absurdly enough, the enumeration of the commandments includes only commandments that can also be fulfilled not for their own sake. The commandment of love of God cannot be fulfilled in that way.

5. Choice

The subject of choice is discussed in chapters 5-6 of the Laws of Repentance. True, some commentators derived such an obligation from the verse 'and you shall choose life' (and you shall choose life), but I know of no halakhic decisor who included the obligation to choose within the enumeration of the commandments.

Seemingly, this is the most basic obligation imposed upon every person. Why is it specifically this one that we do not include in the enumeration of the commandments?

The answer is very simple. Precisely because of its fundamental nature, the obligation to choose cannot be included as an ordinary commandment in the enumeration of the commandments. In another formulation, one can say: if a person does not choose, what sense is there in commanding him to choose?! Would this commandment arouse him to choose any more than all the others? Or, in a third formulation: the commandment to choose is included in each of the 613 commandments, for the obligation to fulfill any given commandment includes a fundamental element of choosing to fulfill it. The commandment to recite Grace after Meals includes, obviously, an obligation to choose to recite it.

This claim also has implications that are not quite so trivial as one might have thought. Is it preferable to educate a child, or a student, toward independent thinking and autonomous decision-making, even at the price that he may choose not as we want him to? Or is it preferable that he perform commandments, even if only by rote?

The prophets' condemnation ('their fear of Me is a commandment of men learned by rote') and that of the Sages, of performing commandments out of habit, is clear. But one cannot necessarily infer from this that it is preferable to develop autonomous service of God when there is a risk of losing everything, rather than service of God out of habit, which is 'safer.'

Educators and sages disagree on this question. Of course, the answers are not exhausted by a simple yes or no. There are different degrees of autonomy, which also depend on the age of the students. Still, one point can be extracted from the above consideration: autonomy matters, and this is the fundamental obligation incumbent upon each of us—to choose his or her path.

Extreme expressions of the importance of this obligation can be found in two places (one according to the plain meaning of Scripture, and the other as an extension of a popular homily).

The prophet Elijah says to the people at Mount Carmel (I Kings 18:21):

'How long will you keep hopping between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; and if Baal—follow him.'

There is a tendency to see these words as a form of provocation, or a demagogic argument. But in my humble opinion Elijah means them literally: it is better that they go after Baal out of choice than that they continue the service of God out of inertia.

The second example is from Rebecca our matriarch. When Rebecca was pregnant with Jacob and Esau, the verse says, 'she went to inquire of the Lord,' and the Sages explain that the reference is to the study hall of Shem and Ever. The Sages and other commentators already sensed the difficulty in the verse: what was troubling Rebecca, that she went to seek the Lord in the study hall of Shem and Ever?

Perhaps this can be deciphered from the answer she receives:

'Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall separate from within you; one people shall prevail over the other, and the elder shall serve the younger.'

In light of this answer it becomes clear what the Sages explain in the Midrash: Rebecca felt that when she passed houses of idol worship, the fetus in her womb tried to burst out and emerge. And when she passed study houses, it again tried to emerge. This situation embarrassed her: what did that fetus in her womb actually want? Therefore she goes to seek the Lord. God answers her, through Shem and Ever, that there are two sons in her womb, not one. One tends to emerge near houses of idol worship, and the other near study houses.

Up to this point this is explicit Midrashic teaching. The popular homily adds a further question: why did this answer calm Rebecca? Is the fact that she has two different sons really better than one son who is internally torn? The well-known answer is: two sons are preferable—one Haredi and one heretic—rather than one son who merely straddles both camps.

In our terms, we would formulate it somewhat differently: the explanation is that she did not really think this was a son who was torn, but rather a son who was 'hopping between two opinions.' He does not choose; he is dragged along. Therefore, when they are near houses of idol worship he wants to emerge, and the same is true near study houses. The environment determines his actions, his outlook, and his thoughts. To this God answers her that these are two sons, each of whom chooses his path autonomously: one chooses evil, and the other chooses good. But both choose; neither is merely swept along.

The conclusion is that this is indeed a better situation than one who is 'hopping between two opinions.' Therefore Rebecca accepts the answer and is calmed in her distress.

What this means is that choice is itself an obligation, and therefore also a value. There is an obligation to choose (even if one chooses evil). On the second level there is an additional obligation: to choose good. These two levels together cannot be included in the enumeration of the commandments. The first level, for the reasons spelled out above. And the second level, because one cannot command someone what to choose. The very essence of choice is that it is free. Each person chooses what he decides upon. Were that not so, there would be no choice here.

The Torah and God certainly expect us to choose the good, but a command to do so is a self-contradiction. This is the logical problem we encountered with regard to the service of God (and, to some extent, with regard to character traits), but here it appears in a much sharper and more extreme form.

In light of what has been said here, it is not clear whom we should regard as the greater educational failure: one who chooses evil, or one who does not choose at all (even if he performs some commandments out of habit). One violates the command at the first level, and the other at the second.

But usually this is a false dilemma. In our classes in the month of Elul we noted that, in practice, one who truly chooses almost always chooses the good. Sin is almost always the result of being swept along, that is, of non-choice. Therefore a state of full choice of evil is almost entirely theoretical (we presented this through the philosophical problem of weakness of will).

Hence the simple assumption is that one who chooses evil probably did not truly choose. If so, the sinner's failure is usually double: he both failed to choose and did evil. We thus learn that the dilemma presented above is theoretical only. In practice, the educational goal is to create a student who truly chooses (not merely feels that he chooses), and then he will generally also choose the good, and truly so.

The conclusion is that the main work incumbent upon us with respect to our power of will and choice lies in the situation where we face the dilemma whether to choose. We must choose to choose, and the rest will generally follow of itself.

By the way, it is worthwhile to do exercises in choice. We can set before ourselves various challenges beyond the obligations imposed on us, solely in order to strengthen the choosing dimension within us and make it dominant.

Let us add that when one goes into the army, one can think about the same dilemma. There is an ideal in military education of creating as disciplined a soldier as possible. On the other hand, it is important to create a thinking soldier with initiative. The risk is that such a soldier may refuse an order, take initiatives that may be mistaken, and the like. Therefore there is a tendency to educate soldiers closer to the pole of discipline, and farther from the autonomous pole. Even when attempts are made to instill values in soldiers, this is done through fixed orders and fixed formulas (problematic in their own right) of 'IDF values.'

This too is one of the reasons that refusal of orders, from various directions, arouses almost automatic opposition. There is a conditioned social reflex to denounce those who refuse orders. But it seems to me important also to see the virtue in a soldier who refuses an order. The orders he does obey, he carries out מתוך identification, and therefore he will carry them out better. And of course, if orders are given that ought not be obeyed, he truly will not obey them.

The dosage is of course important. One does not refuse an order over every nonsense matter. But when it crosses a red line, we are certainly obligated to refuse it. This is not only every soldier's right. It is his duty!

6. The Meaning of the Laws of Repentance

In light of all that has been said until now, we can now return and ask ourselves what the content of Maimonides' Laws of Repentance actually is.

At first glance these laws contain a random collection of topics, and there does not seem to be any connection among them. Repentance itself, of course, occupies a central place (five chapters: chapters 1-4 and chapter 7). The subject of choice occupies two chapters (chapters 5-6). The subject of reward (the world to come and the days of the Messiah) occupies two chapters (chapters 8-9). And the obligation to serve God for His sake and out of love occupies one chapter (chapter 10). What do all these have in common?

First, it is worth noting that three of the topics discussed until now are included in the Laws of Repentance (love of God, choice, repentance). Torah study is not really discussed there, true, but perhaps this follows from Maimonides' view that it is indeed a regular commandment (see our remarks there).[4] Character traits are mentioned in 7:3, but they do not occupy a central place. The main discussion of traits is in the Laws of Character Traits (in Maimonides, following the Sages, 'de'ot' means character traits, not ideas and opinions as in modern usage). But above we saw that even the traits, according to Maimonides, are included in the enumeration of the commandments, and therefore they are in the category of a regular commandment.

If so, the obvious conclusion is that the Laws of Repentance are in fact the laws of choice. Here are included the fundamental laws that are not found in the enumeration of the commandments. These are the laws that, because of their fundamental nature, were not counted in the enumeration of the commandments, or appeared there only at an elementary and partial level, and not in their full manifestation in the service of God. In another formulation: the Laws of Repentance are the laws of the service of God. These, by their very nature, cannot be fully included in formal Jewish law, because they constitute the underlying foundation of that law, and therefore must precede it and remain external to it.

This is also the reason that the discussion of choice is included specifically in the Laws of Repentance. As we saw above, every commandment includes within it a dimension of choice. A person must choose to bless, to pray, to honor parents, not to eat pork, and so on. But in the case of repentance, as in the other topics we have discussed until now, choice appears in its purity. The subject of the Laws of Repentance is choice itself, not any specific content of choice. In the terms of the previous chapter, which dealt with choice, we would say that the Laws of Repentance deal with level one (whether to choose) and not level two (what to choose). In that respect they differ essentially from all the other laws.

In Torah study, in love of God, in repentance, in character traits, and certainly in choice itself, the basic question—whether to fulfill or transgress—is not bound up with obedience to a command or violation of it. Improving character traits is not a commandment (according to some decisors), and therefore the decision to do so is autonomous. The same is true regarding Torah study (beyond the Shema morning and evening). The same applies to love of God (beyond the minimum detailed in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah). And so too regarding repentance (according to Maimonides' own view, according to which there is no positive commandment in the enumeration of the commandments to repent). In all these cases we must decide upon our path autonomously and out of full choice, not because of a command. Therefore it is specifically here that the power of choice appears in its purity, and therefore it is specifically here that Maimonides places his discussion of the subject of choice (Laws of Choice!?).

It seems that this is also the reason that in these laws Maimonides departs from his usual method and tries to persuade us to repent. Rabbenu Yonah does the same in his Sha'arei Teshuvah. So too does Rabbenu Bahya, author of Duties of the Heart, in his book, with respect to all the traits. Ethical works by our medieval authorities are rare; this is a genre that is mainly modern. But in these areas, already the medieval authorities try to persuade us to do what is incumbent upon us.

The whole of chapter 7 of the Laws of Repentance in Maimonides is devoted to arguments of persuasion. We find nothing like this anywhere else in his Mishneh Torah. In chapter 7 Maimonides writes:

'Since permission is granted to every person, as we have explained, a person should strive to repent and shake off his sins, so that he may die as one who has repented, and thus merit life in the world to come.'

'A penitent should not imagine that he is far removed from the level of the righteous because of the sins and transgressions he committed. This is not so. Rather, he is beloved and cherished before the Creator, as though he had never sinned. Moreover, his reward is great… And our Sages said: In the place where penitents stand…'

'All the prophets commanded repentance…'

'Great is repentance, for it brings a person near to the Divine Presence… Repentance brings near those who were distant: yesterday this person was hated before the Omnipresent, detestable, far off, and abominable. Today he is beloved and cherished, near and dear…'

'How exalted is the level of repentance. Yesterday this person was separated from the Lord, the God of Israel… he cried out and was not answered… he performed commandments and they were torn up before his face… today he is attached to the Divine Presence… he cries out and is answered immediately… he performs commandments and they are received with calm and joy… and more than that, they are desired…'

The reason for this unique phenomenon is that with respect to the other commandments, persuasion can be based on the very basic obligation to fulfill God's commands in the Torah. Perhaps one can add to this also the punishment imposed on one who does not fulfill his obligations. But in these contexts that appear in the Laws of Repentance, there is no command in the full formal sense, and therefore the punishment is also not explicit (though it exists). Therefore it is specifically in these areas that the sages try to persuade us. They are trying to influence us to choose the correct path autonomously, even without the existence of a full command.

7. Faith

In light of all that has been said thus far, a difficult question arises with even greater force.

The first commandment that appears in the enumeration of the commandments, and therefore clearly the one Maimonides regards as the most fundamental, is the commandment of faith. Maimonides writes as follows:

'The first commandment is the command with which we were commanded to believe in divinity. That is, we are to believe that there is a cause and source who brings all existing things into being. This is His statement, may He be exalted: "I am the Lord your God."'

'And at the end of tractate Makkot (23b) they said: "613 commandments were told to Moses at Sinai. What verse teaches this? 'Moses commanded us Torah.'"'

'That is, the numerical value of the word Torah is 611. And they challenged this and said: "Is that indeed the numerical value of Torah? It is 611." The answer given was: "'I am' and 'You shall not have' we heard directly from the Almighty."'

'It is thus clear to you that "I am the Lord" is among the 613 commandments, and it is a command concerning faith, as we have explained.'

The problem involved in including the commandment of faith within the enumeration of the commandments is self-evident. First, there is a circularity here: if I do not believe, then nothing can be commanded to me, and certainly not that I believe. Beyond that, the very command to believe is paradoxical. If I do not believe, how is the command supposed to help me? Faith, in its essence, is an autonomous matter left to the determination of each person. Someone who does not believe cannot do so by force of a command.

In fact, all the reasons we have encountered until now for not including certain directives in the enumeration of the commandments exist here as well, and with even greater force, regarding the commandment of faith. But here there is at least one point beyond all that has been said thus far: apparently, faith cannot be an obligation at all. This is not merely a formal problem—whether to include it in the enumeration of the commandments or not. In the other matters discussed above, our claim was that these are full obligations, but that because of their importance they cannot formally be included in the enumeration of the commandments. But in the case of the commandment of faith we are dealing with something that cannot be considered an obligation at all. Not even an extra-halakhic obligation, or an obligation outside the formal system of commandments. Faith is a condition for entering into obligation to the system of commandments. It cannot be included within it, and it is also the condition for it.

First, it should be noted that Maimonides himself also seems to sense this difficulty, for he takes the trouble to prove from the Talmud in Makkot that this is indeed one of the 613 commandments. The need to bring proof for his view indicates that Maimonides himself felt the difficulty.

It seems that the fundamental explanation of this question lies in a basic misunderstanding regarding faith. There is a widespread feeling today that faith is a matter of personal decision. Some believe, and some do not. Like any dispute dealing with outlooks and values, there can also be dispute about faith. Some go so far as to say that faith is something essentially opposed to thought and to the use of reason. They add that if there were proof, or any rational consideration, we would not need faith.

This is a fundamental mistake. The Torah's assumption is that faith is present in every person. If it were not there, not only could it not be commanded; its emergence could not even be expected. The concept of God cannot be generated through human decision. Either it exists within us or it does not. Descartes' anthropological argument claims that the very presence of such a concept within us testifies to the existence of God Himself. The common discourse about each person's subjective God, whom each person creates for himself, is mistaken and misleading.

Therefore, the basis of Maimonides' command is not a command to believe. Rather, it is a command not to deny what is already present within us. A person who declares himself to be someone who does not believe is also a believing person. He is merely denying that faith, for various reasons (some justified, and some perhaps less so). The command is to continue listening to that inner call, not to deny it, and also to act in accordance with it.

The proof Maimonides brings from the Talmud in Makkot is precisely for this principle itself: that faith is present in every one of us, and therefore there is a possibility of commanding us not to deny it. The fact that this is one of the 613 commandments is itself the proof of this principle.

Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, in his book Koveitz Ma'amarim, asks how one can fault an Eskimo who never heard of the revelation at Sinai, and also not of Adam or Noah, for not observing the seven Noahide commandments that are incumbent upon him. His answer is that every person contains the primary intuition that the world has a Creator, and therefore that we also have a role that He imposes upon us to carry out within it. Someone who does not understand the role, for whatever reason, is expected to embark upon a journey of search and clarification in order to determine what that role is. The demand implicit in the commandment of faith is to embark on that journey. At the end of the journey one discovers that everything was already present inside us. Like the Hasidic story (see, for example, Paulo Coelho) about the person who set out to seek a treasure under a bridge in distant Prague, only to discover that it was beneath the stove in his own house back in the village.

We thus learn that although there are obligations that, because of their fundamental nature, are not included in the enumeration of the commandments, the most fundamental obligation of all is nevertheless included in the enumeration of the commandments. If up to this point we could have concluded that the commandments are only second-order obligations, and that the most fundamental obligations are those not included within them, the commandment of faith comes and reveals to us a deeper layer. The foundation of everything is nevertheless found in the commandments. Even what lies outside the commandments, and seems deeper and more fundamental than they are, begins with them.

The inclusion of the commandment of faith in the enumeration of the commandments comes to hint to us that faith is already present within every person. From that point, which truly cannot be reached by command, and therefore God Himself plants it within us, all the other obligations emerge—those that are within the commandments and those that are not; those within the enumeration of the commandments and those outside it. This commandment is placed first, because the enumeration of the commandments also begins here. By the same token, everything begins from a point deep within us. Not under a bridge in Prague, but under the stove at home.

'It is not in heaven, nor beyond the sea…for the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it'. (It is not in heaven, nor beyond the sea… for the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.)

[1] Incidentally, the Talmud there tells of Ben Dama, Rabbi Yishmael's nephew, who had completed learning the whole Torah and asked his uncle whether he was now permitted to study Greek wisdom. Rabbi Yishmael answered him, in a sharp turn of phrase, that he could do so only if he found 'an hour that is neither of the day nor of the night' (an hour that is neither of the day nor of the night), since all day and all night one is obligated in the commandment of Torah study. And this is Rabbi Yishmael's approach, the one considered 'lenient' regarding Torah study.

[2] This also resolves a difficulty my students once asked me. In the Talmud in Menahot 99b, Ben Dama, Rabbi Yishmael's nephew, asks his uncle: 'Someone like me, who has studied the entire Torah, may he study Greek wisdom?' (Someone like me, who has studied the entire Torah, may he study Greek wisdom?). The difficulty is obvious: if he is asking Rabbi Yishmael this law, then apparently he does not know the whole Torah. If so, how can he base on that the desire to engage in Greek wisdom?

According to our remarks, the matter is very well explained. Indeed, this question is not included in the Torah (and not only not in Jewish law!). From the standpoint of the formal halakhic obligation, it is enough to recite the Shema morning and evening to fulfill the commandment of Torah study. Ben Dama, who knew the whole Torah, still did not know the answer to this question, because it is not included in the Torah. He is asking his uncle an extra-halakhic question, or a matter of Torah-guided judgment: what is fitting for one who has learned the whole Torah to do. And in my humble opinion this is the correct interpretation.

[3] I therefore remind you of what we saw in one of our classes in Maimonides' own words (Laws of Idolatry 3:6). There it emerges from his words that 'for its own sake' means without any motive at all (not even out of love). Food for thought!

[4] It should be noted that in the final chapter Maimonides does in fact make considerable use of Torah study, and of the obligation to do it for its own sake. But it does not seem there that he treats Torah study as a category separate from commandment-observance and the service of God in general.

True, the commentators there discussed Maimonides' citation of the saying of the Sages that one should serve not for its own sake and thereby come to service of God for its own sake. Some noted that Maimonides brings this only with respect to study, unlike the formulation in the Talmud, which also refers to commandment-observance.

In light of what has been said here, it is entirely possible that Maimonides deals with Torah study in the detailed laws, but at the end of the Laws of Repentance he deals with the obligation to study for its own sake. And indeed, this obligation is not included in Jewish law (and one who studies not for its own sake still fulfills the formal halakhic obligation). In this sense, we have here a situation parallel to what we saw with the commandment of love of God, which is also counted as a commandment, yet part of its subject matter (the non-formal part) is discussed in the Laws of Repentance.

It should also be noted that with respect to Torah study Maimonides speaks here of doing it 'for its own sake,' whereas with respect to the other commandments he writes that they should be performed out of love—'for His sake,' not 'for its own sake.'

In sum, Maimonides' position regarding Torah study still requires further analysis.