What Is a Mitzvah I: The Role of Intention (Column 342)
What distinguishes a mitzvah from a good act: reason does not replace command
The piece opens with a double question: what is a mitzvah, and when is an act considered the performance of a mitzvah. Even if there are actions that reason would obligate even without a verse, that does not cancel the need for a command. On this view, reasoning can interpret a norm that already has a source, but it does not by itself generate a norm with the status of a Torah mitzvah. The starting point is therefore that without a command there is, at most, a good act, not a mitzvah.
Rabbi Navat’s claim: intention only takes an act out of mere happenstance, and 'fulfilling one’s obligation' was wrongly inflated
Rabbi Navat, whose essay triggers the discussion, argues that explicit intention to fulfill one’s obligation in shofar blowing and the like is not only unnecessary but actually introduces artificiality. In his view, when a person comes to synagogue to hear the shofar, the act itself already defines him as engaging in the mitzvah; intention is needed only in incidental cases, such as someone walking in the street who hears a shofar without engaging in the mitzvah. Therefore, on his view, even the notion of 'intending not to fulfill' does not really exist, and 'fulfilling one’s obligation' is only a minimal threshold, not the essence of the mitzvah. In the background stands his criticism of a 'Leibowitzian' conception that sees mitzvot as formal obedience and empties them of content and purpose.
Why the command creates obligation rather than merely revealing value: the traffic-light analogy and 'greater is one who is commanded'
The piece rejects this at the root. It accepts that mitzvot have purposes, benefits, and meanings, but argues that the obligation stems from the command and not from the benefit. As with a red light: even without a law there is good reason not to take the risk, but only the law creates an obligation. Every mitzvah therefore has two dimensions: its benefit or goal, and obedience to the command. This is also the meaning of the dictum 'greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does': the commanded person gains not only the benefit in the act but also fulfills the will of the Commander.
Rambam and Sefer HaChinukh: acting from reason is not a mitzvah, and punishment without warning does not create a prohibition
To ground this, the piece cites Rambam in Hilkhot Melakhim: a gentile who keeps the seven Noahide laws because they are rational is not one of the 'pious among the nations'; only one who does them because God commanded them counts as such. Sefer HaChinukh likewise stresses that punishment alone does not create a prohibition; without a prior warning, it would seem that a person merely 'pays a price' for his act rather than violating God’s will. The conclusion is that mitzvah and sin are defined first of all through one’s relation to the command, not through the good or evil the act produces.
In synagogue there is often implicit intention, but religious folklore is not mitzvah-performance
At this point the piece is willing to accept part of Rabbi Navat’s claim: someone who comes to synagogue to hear the shofar probably already implicitly intends to fulfill the obligation, so explicit intention is not always required. Indeed, the rabbinic examples of a mitzvah without intention generally involve cases where no such intention is self-evident. But that does not mean intention is unnecessary; it means only that sometimes it is already present. Therefore, a person who is in synagogue for cultural, national, or emotional reasons, but does not see himself as bound by the command, is not thereby performing a mitzvah even if his religious experience is very intense.
Intention is not merely the opposite of metasek: it elevates the act into command-fulfillment
The piece uses the halakhic distinction between metasek and one who acts unintentionally. A metasek acts incidentally, without awareness of the act; one who acts unintentionally acts consciously, but for another aim. This shows that intention is not merely what removes an act from accidentality. Awareness of the act already takes one out of metasek, whereas mitzvah-intention adds another layer: it turns the act into fulfillment of a command. Explicit intention therefore does not damage the mitzvah but improves it; this is also why some halakhic authorities saw value in saying 'leshem yichud' or understood the blessing over mitzvot as a focusing of intention. That also explains why it is halakhically plausible that explicit intention not to fulfill one’s obligation could indeed prevent fulfillment.
The deeper dispute: is the divine command a disclosure of value or the creation of obligation
According to the piece, Rabbi Navat treats the command almost as a declarative statement: God informs us what is good and what is bad. Against that, it argues that an imperative is categorically different from a descriptive statement: it does not merely reveal value but creates obligation. This leads to the broader discussion of natural law versus positivism: does law bind because it is correct, or because it was enacted by a competent authority. The piece adopts a positivist stance here as well with respect to halakha: the force of a mitzvah comes from the command, even if the command also has reason and purpose.
The implications: a non-believer does not perform a mitzvah, and the Kantian analogy sharpens why
This approach yields sharp conclusions: someone who does not believe in God and Sinai, or does not regard himself as bound by mitzvot, may still be objectively obligated, but in practice cannot perform a mitzvah and perhaps cannot even commit a sin, because his mitzvah-acts and transgressive acts are not done because of the command. Therefore, putting tefillin on a non-believer or keeping Shabbat as culture are not, on this view, mitzvah-performance. The piece reinforces this through an analogy to Kant: just as a good act becomes moral only when it arises from commitment to morality, so a good act becomes a mitzvah only when it arises from commitment to the command. The Talmudic case of giving charity 'so that my son may live' does not contradict this, because the side motive is added on top of acting for the sake of the mitzvah, not in its place.
At first glance, the concept of a “mitzvah” seems simple: that which the Holy One, blessed be He, commands. And what is the fulfillment of a mitzvah? Carrying out something that God has commanded. Still, there are borderline cases that are not unequivocal: consider, for example, time-bound positive commandments for women, who are not commanded in them. When a woman performs such a commandment, is that indeed a mitzvah? Is it not merely a good deed (or perhaps not even that)? Or maybe there is no difference at all between the two?
The question is: what, in general, is the difference between a mitzvah and a good deed? Svara (reasoning) is sometimes presented as a substitute for a command (“Why do I need a verse? Reasoning suffices!”), and therefore the existence of a verse seems insignificant. Its apparent purpose is merely to reveal to us what we would not have known on our own. For example, no one would have thought that eating pork is something bad had the Torah not told us so; therefore it commands us not to eat pork. But if so, there is truly no essential difference between a mitzvah and a good deed. On the other hand, it is clear that there are mitzvot we would have known even without the command (by reasoning), such as the prohibition of murder, honoring parents, helping others, and the like—yet the Torah nevertheless commands us concerning them. There must therefore be some significance to the command beyond its revealing that a given act is deemed worthy or unworthy in God’s eyes. Indeed, in my article on reasonings (svarot) I showed that reasoning is not a full substitute for a command. I argued there that without a command there are no mitzvot. Reasoning has a status like that found in a verse only when the reasoning serves to interpret a law that has a scriptural source. But a reasoning that innovates an entirely new law is law without a verse and therefore cannot be De’oraita (Torah-level) law. The conclusion (detailed there as well) is that for an act to be a mitzvah a command is required; reasoning alone is insufficient. That pertains to the definition of the concept “mitzvah.” Now we must ask: when is a given act considered fulfillment of a mitzvah? For example, is a mitzvah performed without intention still considered the doing of a mitzvah?
In this column I will try to clarify certain aspects in the definition of the concept “mitzvah” and in the definition of fulfilling a mitzvah—points that are rather easy to miss—by linking the two questions I raised (what a mitzvah is, and what counts as fulfilling a mitzvah). What led me to take up the matter were two sources brought to my attention in recent weeks: a column by Rabbi Menachem Navat about intention in mitzvot and a lecture by Rabbi Asher Weiss regarding sitting in the sukkah. Both touched on defining the concept of a mitzvah and presented opposing views. In this dispute I tend to side with Rabbi Weiss (even if not entirely), and in the coming columns I will try to explain the basis of the disagreement and justify my position.
Rabbi Navat’s Claim
Rabbi Navat opens his column by mentioning a directive of some rabbi who demanded that one be careful to intend to fulfill one’s obligation (to be yotzei) in the mitzvah of shofar blowing. Rabbi Navat argues that such intention is not only unnecessary but even detrimental, for it introduces an artificial component into the mitzvah. One who intends to fulfill the obligation assumes that the mitzvah is something objective that exists somewhere “out there,” detached from what he is doing here, and he directs his heart toward it. He presumes that the mitzvah has some content beyond the very performance of it now, and that intention must join the act of the mitzvah in order for us to be yotzei. But when a person blows the shofar or comes to the synagogue to hear the shofar, he is certainly doing so to fulfill the mitzvah. What more is needed beyond the fulfillment itself? The very intention indicates that fulfillment alone is not enough; this mistake adds nothing and even detracts.
As is well known, there is a dispute in the Talmud and among the poskim whether mitzvot require intention (to fulfill one’s obligation). Even according to the opinion that does not require intention, it is clear that intention is needed—only that, according to that view, it does not invalidate the mitzvah. Rabbi Navat contends that when the halakhic authorities spoke of the need for intention in mitzvot they only meant to distinguish fulfilling a mitzvah from the status of “metassek” (one who acts unwittingly). He writes that if someone happens to be walking down the street and hears the sound of the shofar, this is not an act of mitzvah but of metassek. He is not fulfilling a mitzvah at that moment—he is merely walking down the street—and the mitzvah occurs of itself without his awareness. In such a case he must intend to fulfill his obligation, and only then will hearing the shofar in the street count as a mitzvah. But when someone comes to the synagogue, he is engaged in the very act of the mitzvah, and there no intention is required.
Rabbi Navat notes that from the conception that demands an objective intention as an addition to the act of the mitzvah, the confusing (or confused) concept of “intending not to fulfill one’s obligation” (negative intention) has arisen. In his view, there is no such thing as an intention not to fulfill: either you intend to fulfill or you do not intend to fulfill. But a positive intention not to fulfill does not exist. Intention is meant to define the act as the performance of a mitzvah rather than as an accidental act—nothing more. Hence, when there is no intention the act is accidental and therefore not a mitzvah; but if the act is not accidental, no intention can strip it of its status as an act of mitzvah. This is an objective description of the act, and no intention can change it.
I will note that I am certain Rabbi Navat is aware that some of the Rishonim and many Acharonim hold that there is indeed such a thing as an intention not to fulfill. I therefore assume he is not denying the existence of such views (he is not claiming that the cited rabbi invented a new idea), but is only expressing his own stance and arguing that they are mistaken.
He then adds that, similarly, the concept of “fulfilling one’s obligation” (yetziah yedei chovah) has in our day lost its original meaning. He argues that this concept originally described the minimal threshold required to fulfill the mitzvah (like the intention required for one who is walking down the street, as described above), which also determines whether and when there is a need to repeat it (because one has not fulfilled the obligation). But today this concept has become the constitutive essence of doing a mitzvah: a mitzvah must be performed “in order to be yotzei,” and only then is it a mitzvah. In his opinion, “fulfilling one’s obligation” in its original meaning is a minimal concept that determines that the mitzvah has been performed in the most “thin” sense: I have discharged my obligation, and no more can be demanded of me (as in the contemporary idiom: “he did it just to be yotzei”). He claims that performing a mitzvah in such a fashion diminishes it rather than elevates it.
At the end of the column he explains that this change in the meaning of “fulfilling one’s obligation” stems from the now-common conception of mitzvah as a response to a categorical imperative—doing the act solely out of obedience to the command, rather than the act itself. But mitzvot also—and perhaps primarily—have meaning, benefit, and purpose. They are not merely objects of obedience. These definitions empty the mitzvot of their content and aims and shrink them into formal acts of obedience to duty alone (the essence of “Leibowitzianism”).
Critique
As is known, I hold the “thin” conception that Rabbi Navat describes. For me, the entire meaning of the term “mitzvah” is that there is a command regarding it. This does not mean that mitzvot have no aims and meanings of their own (benefits they seek to achieve or harms they seek to prevent), but the obligation to perform them stems solely from the command. Consider, for example, crossing at a red light. There is no doubt that the legal prohibition of crossing on red has meaning, a goal, and internal logic (so that we do not get hurt). Still, were there no law duly enacted about it, there would be no obligation to do so. Even without the law it would be entirely reasonable not to cross on red, but clearly there would be no duty. Only legislation (=command) creates the obligation.
From here follows the conclusion that every mitzvah or transgression has two aspects: (1) obedience to the command, or rebellion against it; (2) the benefit or harm the command seeks to achieve or prevent (the aim and meaning of the mitzvah). R. Elchanan Wasserman noted this in his Kovetz Ma’amarim, in the essay “Teshuvah,” where he brought a source from Derekh Hashem by the Ramchal. But there are earlier sources as well. For example, the dictum of the Sages “Greater is one who is commanded and acts than one who is not commanded and acts” is interpreted by Tosafot ha-Rosh and the Ritva (with slightly different formulations) as follows: one who fulfills the mitzvah when he is commanded both attains the benefit and obeys the command of his Creator; whereas one who does so when uncommanded attains only the benefit but does not fulfill the command.
Therefore, in my opinion, there is indeed significance to intending to fulfill one’s obligation. When a person crosses on green or refrains from crossing on red because it seems reasonable to him and the alternative is dangerous, that is a different situation from a person who does so because of the law. The former perhaps has not broken the law, but he has not truly kept it either; the latter observes the law (=the mitzvah). What confuses many is that in state law such intention is not required. The legislator does not demand of us to observe the law with intention to be yotzei, only to observe it—period. Our motives do not interest him. But that is only because, in civil law, the point is not to “fulfill” it but merely not to violate it. In contrast, in halakhah there is an obligation to fulfill the command and not only to avoid transgressing it, and therefore intention to fulfill one’s obligation (or intention for the sake of the mitzvah) is required there.
This is the reason that the Rambam writes at the end of the Laws of Kings:
Anyone who accepts the seven commandments and is careful to perform them is of the pious among the nations of the world and has a share in the World to Come—provided that he accepts and performs them because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them in the Torah and informed us through Moses our teacher that the children of Noah had already been commanded concerning them. But if he performs them because reason dictates so, he is not a resident alien, nor of the pious among the nations, nor of their wise.
The Rambam says that if a person fulfills a mitzvah due to “the dictates of reason,” i.e., because it seems to him rational or moral, that is not a mitzvah but at most a good deed. Note that he writes this about the seven Noahide commandments which are, in his words, “commandments to which the mind inclines”—that is, commandments which certainly have value, meaning, and purpose beyond obedience to the command. And that is exactly my point. In halakhah, motives do matter. If a person fulfills the mitzvah not on account of the command, it is not the fulfillment of a mitzvah.[1]
A clear expression of this conception is found in the Sefer ha-Chinukh, mitzvah 69 (the prohibition of cursing a judge), which states:
For it does not suffice to mention the punishment in a commandment without a warning. This is what our Sages always say: “We heard the punishment; from where [do we derive] the warning?” The matter is that if what comes to us is only the information of a penalty, namely that “one who does such-and-such will be punished so-and-so,” it would imply that it is up to anyone who wishes to accept the penalty and not mind the pain to transgress the commandment, and in doing so he would not be opposing the will of the Blessed God and His command. The commandment would then revert to a sort of commercial exchange, as if to say: whoever wants to do such-and-such shall pay such-and-such and do it, or shall steel himself to bear such-and-such and do it. But that is not the intent of the commandments. Rather, God, for our benefit, forbade us certain matters and informed us, for some of them, of the punishment that will befall us immediately, aside from the violation of His will, which is harsher than all. This is what they said everywhere: “He did not punish unless He first warned,” meaning: God does not inform us of the punishment that will come upon us for transgressing a commandment unless He has first informed us that His will is that we not do the act for which the punishment comes.
To establish a prohibition on some act, it is not enough that the Torah states a penalty for whoever does it. In addition, the Torah must also present a warning. Why? Because if there were only a penalty and no warning, we might think that while the act incurs a penalty, this does not mean there is a violation of the divine will (or command).[2] In effect, the author of the Sefer ha-Chinukh argues that even the penalty does not bring the norm in question into the corpus of halakhah; for that, an explicit command is necessary.[3] His words sharpen the significance of the command and of an act being a mitzvah beyond its benefit and purpose, which merely express its being a good deed. The penalty (in a court; I am not speaking of heavenly punishment—see the next passage) is imposed for violating the command, that is, for an aveirah, and not for doing a bad thing per se. The same holds for doing a mitzvah: a mitzvah is when one fulfills a command, not merely when one does a good deed.
I stress that I bring here the words of the Rishonim not as a conclusive proof against Rabbi Navat (he has every right to disagree with them), but to show that this conception is far from the absurdity he portrays, and certainly not a recent invention. This is the conventional halakhic conception of the term “mitzvah,” and to me it is also very logical. There is a difference between doing something for some benefit—even a spiritual one—and doing it as a response to God’s command. Intention comes to say that I am acting as a response to a divine command.
From this we also understand why I disagree with his claims. Indeed, regarding his initial claim I can fully agree (even though it too is disputed among Rishonim and Acharonim): if a person goes to the synagogue, there is no need for him to explicitly intend to fulfill his obligation, for his very presence there amounts to implicit intention (otherwise, why is he there?). Note that all the examples brought in the Talmud of mitzvot performed without intention are indeed of the sort “walking in the street and hearing the shofar” (blowing to make music; or hearing the voice of a scribe reciting Shema, etc.), where there is no implicit intention and hence explicit intention is required. But the fact that explicit intention is not needed for shofar in the synagogue is not because intention “thins out” the performance of the mitzvah, as Rabbi Navat writes, but because in practice there is clearly intention implied. In truth, intention is meant to add to the performance of the mitzvah and not merely to set a minimal threshold. It is what turns our act into a mitzvah. In situations where it is clear there is no intention to be yotzei—for example, one who is in the synagogue because it is his ancestral custom or national folklore, but he does not believe in Sinai and in divine commands (or in the obligation to obey them)—his hearing of the shofar is not a mitzvah, even if he is in the synagogue before the ark, wrapped in a tallit and weeping with emotion.
Incidentally, it seems to me that this also follows from the halakhic distinction between “eino mitkaven” (one who does not intend the prohibited result) and “metassek.” A “metassek” is someone who acts accidentally, like a person walking down the street whose body tears leaves off a bush growing at the side (the melakhah of reaping on Shabbat). In contrast, “one who does not intend” is someone who performs an act with full intention but aims at a different goal—for example, one who drags a bench from place to place and creates a furrow in the ground (which is building or plowing on Shabbat). We see from here that intention is not merely to remove a person from the category of metassek; it is something higher. Even one who “does not intend” has already left the category of metassek, and still he is not a person who intends. What removes me from the category of metassek is awareness that I am doing the act; but intention is something higher, and in the context of mitzvah it not only removes us from metassek but elevates the act and causes it to be deemed a mitzvah.
From here you understand that Rabbi Navat is not correct in claiming that intention harms the mitzvah. When I intend, I elevate the act to the level of mitzvah; therefore, even in cases where intention is not required because there is implicit intention (as in shofar in the synagogue), if a person explicitly intends he elevates the act even further into the realm of mitzvah. Clearly, explicit intention is superior to implicit intention. Someone who explicitly intends is, by definition, more focused on the meaning of his act, and therefore his mitzvah is of higher quality. This is why several halakhic decisors (especially Acharonim) wrote that it is desirable for a person to state with his mouth that he intends the mitzvah (“LeShem Yichud”).[4] This reflects an understanding that intention is an enhancement in the performance of the mitzvah and not merely a way to remove the act from the category of metassek.
For this reason it also seems to me very reasonable (certainly possible, and by no means absurd) that if I perform an act with the opposite intention—that is, with the intention not to be yotzei—then indeed I will not be yotzei. Intention does not merely remove me from the category of metassek; it elevates my act to the status of fulfilling the command (doing a mitzvah). The dispute is whether this is indispensable or not, but there is no doubt that there is a qualitative advantage here.
It seems to me that Rabbi Navat’s error is that he misses the difference I described above—regarding the red light—between the rationale of the law and its being legislated and binding. He views the command at Sinai as mere disclosure. In his view, when God commanded not to eat pork, He merely revealed that there is a problem with eating pork. For him, the command is nothing but a descriptive statement. But that is not so. A command is categorically different from a descriptive statement. When God commands us, He adds another layer beyond the fact that the act has harm or benefit: He adds the obligation incumbent upon us to do it. Hence, one who performs a mitzvah without intention is like one who is “not commanded and does”—that is, he performs the act and attains the benefit that is in it, but without fulfilling his Creator’s command. He attains only one of the two outcomes that the act of a mitzvah is meant to express and achieve.
The statement “murder is evil” is not equivalent to “murder is forbidden.” On the moral plane one could perhaps debate the point, but on the religious—and even the legal—plane there is a very great difference between the two statements. This obviously leads to the debate on natural law versus legal positivism, which I will not enter here. Rabbi Navat apparently holds the view of Aquinas, who espoused natural law (the law obligates because it is correct), whereas I espouse legal positivism (the law obligates because it was legislated by a duly authorized institution in a proper process). For the positivist, a law may express value and a worthy purpose (and it is even desirable that it do so), but its force derives from legislation, not from the value it contains. According to positivists, legislation creates the law; it does not merely direct our attention to the fact that the act in question has value (it is a command, not merely a description). By contrast, proponents of natural law think that legislation merely ensures that we will all remember and note that the act is obligatory and that this is how one ought to behave (the law is a descriptive statement).
Indeed, in my view halakhah is nothing but a categorical imperative (in contrast to Rabbi Navat’s view): a command imposed upon us that we are obligated to fulfill. That command is what renders it binding. It is not binding merely because the command is reasonable (though that is also true in my opinion, even if we do not always understand its reason), but primarily because it is the law—that is, because God commanded us to do it (as in the red-light example).[5] The intention accompanying the act comes to say that we are doing it because it is the law (because God commanded it), and that is what transforms our act from a good deed into the fulfillment of a mitzvah.
For this reason I have often argued (see my article here) that a person who does not accept the obligation to keep mitzvot, or who does not believe in God and in Sinai, cannot fulfill a mitzvah (as follows explicitly from the Rambam above in Laws of Kings), and in my view cannot transgress either. He is, as it were, excluded from the entire system (of course, he is obligated by it, but he cannot fulfill or violate it until he returns in repentance to faith in God and the obligation to His commands), since he does not act on the basis of the command but for other reasons. His “mitzvah-acts” are not mitzvot, and his “transgressions” are not aveirot. For this reason, in my view, a non-believer’s donning tefillin in the street has no significance as a mitzvah (perhaps it has value as folklore or as a connection to the tradition of the generations). If he did so in the morning and repented at noon, and came to ask me, I would tell him that he must put on tefillin again with the full blessing, because in the morning he did not fulfill the mitzvah. Observing Shabbat from an Ahad Ha’am-style conception (that is, cultural identification: “More than Israel kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath kept Israel”) has no value as a mitzvah, because it is not done in order to fulfill an obligation.
A Look at the Moral Act
In the third book of my trilogy (and also in part C of the fourth dialogue in the first book) I drew an analogy between the categorical imperative in morality and the mitzvot in halakhah. In both systems, an act has moral or halakhic significance only if it is done out of a motivation connected to fulfilling and being bound to the system (moral or halakhic). In Kantian moral theory (with which I fully agree, and I even think that anyone who disagrees is confusing morality with something else), an act becomes moral only if it is done out of the motivation “to fulfill one’s obligation,” i.e., to obey the categorical imperative. A person who helps another simply because he feels like it, or because he is by nature kind-hearted, is not acting morally. He is acting well, but not morally. A moral act is an act done out of commitment to the good.
And here, too, one could say that a person who gives charity to the poor is already doing so to benefit another, and therefore intention to fulfill the moral (or mitzvah) obligation would only spoil the act. But here as well, in my view, that is incorrect. When one intends to do so in order to behave morally, one elevates the act; now, beyond benefiting the poor person, it also expresses my commitment to morality. The same holds for the halakhic act (fulfilling the mitzvah).
Incidentally, in the Talmud (Pesachim 8a) we find the following statement:
It was taught: One who says, “This sela is for charity so that my son will live,” or “so that I will merit the World to Come,” this person is a completely righteous individual.
We see that one who gives charity to the poor need not do so from a religious motivation. Admittedly, this seems to contradict the very law that mitzvot require intention (and I already noted that according to all views some intention is needed; the dispute is only whether it is indispensable). Some wished to infer from here that interpersonal mitzvot do not require intention.[6] I disagree. It is quite clear that the person who gave charity to the poor did so “for the sake of the mitzvah,” only that his deeper motivation was that, in its merit, his son would live or that he would merit the World to Come. Precisely his intention, which turns the act into a mitzvah, creates the merit by which he is worthy of the World to Come or of aid for his son’s life.
So much for the discussion of Rabbi Navat’s words. In the next column I will turn to discuss Rabbi Weiss’s lecture and its connection to what I have written here.
[1] Incidentally, the commentaries wonder what the Rambam’s source is. Yesterday I thought that his source could be the midrash about Sinai, where God went around to the nations to ask if they wished to accept the Torah. They asked what is written in it and rejected the offer. By contrast, Israel responded immediately with the declaration: “Na’aseh ve-Nishma” (“We will do and we will hear”). And indeed, in Shabbat 88a it is told of a heretic who mocked Israel for this and called them “an impulsive people who put their mouth before their ears.” The difference between the approach of the nations and that of Israel is precisely this point: the nations wish to accept the Torah only on the basis of identification with what is written in it, while Israel accepts it solely because of the command (there is no need to examine what is written). In several places I explained that this is the difference between a “principle of general value” and a “principle of particular value,” and that accepting the Torah and performing mitzvot must be on the basis of a general principle, not a particular one. See the beginning of the third book in the trilogy, and also my article here. Perhaps this is the Rambam’s source—though in my opinion it is also simple reasoning.
[2] By way of comparison, in Israel’s statute books there is no explicit prohibition of theft or murder; rather, it says that “one who steals” is subject to such-and-such a penalty. Justice Haim Cohn pointed this out in his book The Law.
[3] In an article by Rabbi Dov Landau (Rosh Yeshiva of Slabodka in Bnei Brak) that I once saw in some memorial volume, he brought two examples of a situation with a penalty but no warning. The first is the law of one who suppresses his prophecy; see what is written about this in Minchat Chinukh, mitzvah 516, section 1 (which relies on the words of the Sefer ha-Chinukh cited here). The second appears in Rabbeinu Gershom’s commentary to Temurah 3b, where according to his reading the Gemara entertains the possibility that a person could swear a true oath that the Torah requires of him and yet incur a penalty (though Rashi seems to interpret the Gemara there differently). I note that in both cases such a situation is raised only as a possibility but is rejected in conclusion. In the final analysis, as the Sefer ha-Chinukh writes here, there is no case in the Torah of a penalty without a warning.
[4] The well-known debates around reciting “LeShem Yichud” deal only with its content—i.e., addressing entities other than God, kabbalah, angels, etc. I do not know of anyone who objects to the very intentionality that the recitation expresses. Were it phrased simply as: “I intend to fulfill the mitzvah in order to discharge my obligation,” or “for the sake of God,” I expect no one would object, and most would even praise it. Many explain the need for blessings over commandments in this vein—as a kind of intentional focus at the time of performance. All these certainly do not accept Rabbi Navat’s premise that intention comes only to remove a person from the category of metassek.
[5] This distinction parallels a distinction I have often drawn between formal authority and substantive authority.
[6] On this matter, an illuminating article by R. Ariel Finkelstein is about to be published in the upcoming issue of the journal of the Hesder Yeshiva in Netivot.
Discussion
I didn’t understand the connection. It seems to me you were a bit too quick to write a response.
I’m not sure there is really any difference between what you say and what Rabbi Navot says beyond terminology.
What you call “implicit intention” (which is not necessarily an active intention passing through a person’s mind, but only a stance and approach toward the act) is what R. Navot calls “the intention is the very body of the act.”
There are clear differences. I mentioned there the issue of opposite intention, and the question whether there is an added value to intention even when there is implicit intention. That is exactly what I wrote: although regarding implicit intention there is practical identity, the conceptual foundation is completely different. He argues that intention is not needed, and I argue that it is needed, except that it is present.
Good week,
Thank you for the article.
For a long time I’ve wanted to ask about intentions in the mitzvah of separating challah.
Lately, organized “challah separations” have become common in order to pray for healing, and for various other requests attached to the blessing.
(Common messages go around such as: “Looking for 100 women to separate challah this coming Friday… for the recovery of …”).
Is there any additional value to the mitzvah of separating challah beyond the obligation to separate challah incidentally while preparing it? Is there any additional value to prayer when it is attached to separating challah?
Or perhaps it is enough that the very occasion serves as a trigger to gather women for prayer.
It reminds me a bit of deliberately arranging shiluach haken, only of course without the accompanying suffering of animals. At most there is eating without need. ?
I’d be happy to hear your opinion.
More power to you.
Although it is not really proper to deal with motives but rather with arguments, still it seems to me that R. Menachem is lamenting sanctimoniousness or “religious-guy” irritability, and forgetting the plain simplicity of God, the human being, and the act of the mitzvah. That is to say, precisely out of an excessive desire to relate to God’s will beyond the act of the mitzvah, one may end up forgetting the Holy One, blessed be He, and the mitzvah He gave.
Regarding the distinction between a command (halakhic) and an indication. What about the reason for the command? After all, it is likely that the command is not arbitrary but rests on some purpose or metaphysical mechanism that has already been created, so the command is a result, and in effect an indication that the cause exists. Can there exist in the world two things identical in every respect that differ only in that one is commanded and the other is not?
These challah-separation events always look to me like the dust of idolatry, and I think that usually there is an actual halakhic prohibition involved. Women think that separating challah has a mystical effect, and that is a real prohibition (“healing oneself through words of Torah”). If they only think these are circumstances more conducive to the prayer having an effect, then it is not prohibited, only simply incorrect (in my opinion). But in my view prayers don’t help at all, so perhaps my opinion is not relevant on this matter.
I did not write in praise of “religious-guy” irritability. But the claims that there is no such thing as opposite intention, and that intention detracts from the mitzvah-act, are incorrect. As for motives, I see no value in discussing them.
Clearly they can exist. The same act before the revelation at Mount Sinai was not a mitzvah but at most a good deed. After the command, it became a mitzvah.
I wrote explicitly that in my opinion there are reasons for commandments. What does that have to do with the discussion?! There is a reason for the prohibition against running a red light, and still there is no obligation so long as there is no law forbidding it.
Contrary to Tosafot HaRosh and the Ritva, from the Sefer HaChinukh there is no contradiction to Rabbi Navot. The Chinukh only claims that in prohibitions there is a principled prohibition and not merely fear of punishment. If, hypothetically, there were a prohibition for which we knew there was no punishment, it would still be forbidden because God revealed to us that it is forbidden. And if a person refrains from doing it because God forbade it, he will receive reward for that. This does not require intention toward the prohibition, only an understanding that the act is forbidden.
Regarding putting on tefillin: from my experience with people who put on tefillin, someone who puts on tefillin knows that this is a divine command and puts them on as a commandment.
The Chinukh sharpens the claim that the command is what defines the transgression.
As for putting on tefillin—obviously. I wrote that too (implicit intention).
What do you mean by “healing oneself through words of Torah”?
Even according to Rabbi Navot’s approach, mitzvot require there to be a commander; otherwise he would hold that mitzvot do not require intention, and a person fulfills his obligation even in mere preoccupation, such as one who blows the shofar for music and the like.
I thought that in the rabbi’s requirement of intention there is a recursive element (I intend to intend to intend to intend…) and perhaps that is what bothers Rabbi Navot.
Regarding fulfillment of a mitzvah by someone who does not recognize the obligation: is he different from someone who acts while not being commanded? True, “greater is one who is commanded and acts,” but from that it sounds as though even one who is not commanded has some value in the act, and seemingly that is the evaluative element in the mitzvah that exists even without the command.
Of course there must be a commander, but according to him it remains only in the background. On his view, explicit intention detracts from the value of the act because it expresses that there is something in the mitzvah beyond the act itself.
I see no regress at all in my approach.
As for one who is not commanded, perhaps there is value in it (I discussed this), but it is not a mitzvah.
On what basis does the rabbi determine that when one who is not commanded acts there is value in it, yet it is not a mitzvah?
After all, the Gemara itself refers to him only by saying that the commanded one is “greater” (than one who is not commanded).
Only greater? But his counterpart did not perform a mitzvah at all. (Because he was not commanded in it.)
Likewise, Tosafot in Kiddushin and the Ritva wrote that he is considered greater because he has an evil inclination that prevents him from fulfilling it,
which means that the “greater” difference is that the other one does not, in fact, fulfill a mitzvah at all (despite receiving reward for it).
Another point: according to your view, if one who is not commanded does not fulfill a mitzvah,
we nevertheless find that even for something one is not commanded to do, one may recite a blessing (“and commanded us”)
as in the case of a woman who fulfills the mitzvah of tzitzit,
and likewise she blesses over a positive time-bound commandment.
Again, if there is no mitzvah here at all, why should they recite a blessing?
I didn’t understand the question from the Rishonim. I myself wrote that several of them said so, except that I am not inclined to agree.
As for the Gemara, it does not mean that the non-commanded person fulfills a mitzvah, but that there is value to his deeds. Therefore, greater is one who is commanded and acts, because that is also a mitzvah.
Moreover, in the Gemara and the Rishonim all this is said about mitzvot in which there are those who are commanded in them, but they are being fulfilled by someone who is not commanded (such as a woman, a gentile, or a blind person). But in our case we are talking about praying for rain, where there is no one at all who is commanded in this.
I answered your second question both here and in the column.
a. The proof from before the giving of the Torah seems weak to me, because there is a difference in time and in addressee.
b. As for the claim itself (“clearly they can exist”)—that would mean that the reason for the command is not “sufficient,” and an additional (non-necessary!) decision by the Holy One, blessed be He, is required. So let me ask this way: are there sufficient reasons for commandments? I understand that in your opinion the answer is no. Have I understood correctly?
c. The example from law does not seem relevant to me, because as you remarked (note 2), the law is basically only a description of the punishment system. Prohibitions exist only in halakhah and morality.
a. Only a difference in time. The addressees are the whole people of Israel, so only the difference in time remains. I do not see why that changes anything. In my opinion it is very good proof.
b. Of course they can exist in principle. But when there is a reason to command, the Holy One, blessed be He, will presumably also command. As with a red light.
c. An excellent example. The law also deals with prohibitions, and punishment is only a consequence. But it has no positive commands. This is explained in detail in my aforementioned book.
b. How is that so obvious? Are you assuming here that God has free choice, and does not always do what is right and good simply because He is good? If there is a reason to command, then why only “presumably” will God command? Why is it not more logical to think there are sufficient reasons for commanding? The point here is unclear to me.
What I meant to say is that the Gemara does not mean that one who is not commanded has no mitzvah at all,
because otherwise they would not define the commanded one merely as “greater,” since the other one (who is not commanded) did not fulfill any mitzvah at all.
The attempt to explain that here it is only about the greater value of the deeds of the commanded versus the non-commanded
—is valid only on the assumption that the one who is not commanded certainly does fulfill a mitzvah, and therefore the Gemara searched for such subtle distinctions.
As we find in the Rashba (Bava Kamma 38), who was puzzled that the Gemara there compares a gentile who studies Torah
to a High Priest—“for if so, what have we left for one who is commanded and acts?”
What have we left? He (the gentile) did not fulfill the mitzvah at all.
An unnecessary “not” slipped in. It should read: if there is a reason to command, then why only “presumably” will God command.
I’ve lost track of this pilpul. The Holy One, blessed be He, could theoretically refrain from commanding what ought to be commanded, but in practice He does command it. A human legislator also has the choice not to legislate what is right, but usually does. That’s all.
I explained. I see no point in repeating it yet again.
According to the Chinukh’s words, what is the force of the Noahide commandments? For example, regarding murder, it does not say “You shall not murder” but “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed,” which is a punishment and not a command.
An interesting question. Apparently it comes out that on his approach, with בני נח this really is a sanction and not a prohibition. Unless in their case there is no condition that there be a prior warning, or they had a warning not in the Torah. I don’t know..
Thank you for the response and for increasing Torah. I wrote a response column and will copy it here.
Some time ago I wrote a column here in which I expressed my view on a halakhic topic concerning intention in mitzvot. In that column I made several claims: a. There is no need for a positive intention specifically to intend to perform mitzvot—for example, to be in the synagogue and hear the shofar and, in addition, to intend to fulfill one’s obligation of shofar-blowing. My claim is that the fulfillment itself is the intention. I am here in order to fulfill the mitzvah of shofar, not for some other purpose. b. I claimed that not only is such an intention unnecessary, but such intention actually detracts from the mitzvah, because it shifts the mitzvah elsewhere. The basic mitzvah ought to be centered on the shofar, whereas this intention diverts a person’s consciousness to something else—to responding and obeying the command. c. I claimed that the whole halakhah stating that mitzvot require intention (according to that view) is only to exclude mere preoccupation; that is, someone who performs a mitzvah incidentally, without any awareness of the mitzvah, has not fulfilled his obligation according to this view, but the moment I am not merely preoccupied, I have fulfilled my obligation. (These are also the examples in the Talmud: one who blows for music, or Persians forced him to eat matzah, and similarly one who was reading from the Torah and the time for Shema arrived, which the Gemara establishes as one reading for proofreading.) d. I claimed that there is no such thing as intending not to fulfill one’s obligation when I perform a mitzvah-act—even though certain Acharonim spoke of such a concept. Since there is no external object of intention that I can negate or affirm, intention is a simple matter: the mitzvah-act itself, done as a mitzvah. e. In addition, I argued against the constricting concept of “fulfilling one’s obligation,” which from a concept defining the minimum of a mitzvah has become a concept defining the essence of the mitzvah. f. And in the end I argued that this has become prevalent because of conceptions that view halakhah as a categorical imperative, and therefore as something whose value lies in obedience rather than in the content of the mitzvah itself.
At the time, many commented on what I wrote, but I did not have the leisure and time to respond properly. Now Rabbi Michael Abraham has posted a column on his site regarding these matters (link in the first comment), in which he expresses his opinion on the subject and disputes what I wrote. This is an opportunity both to respond to his words and more generally to respond to the various claims that were raised then.
I will briefly lay out Rabbi Michael Abraham’s words. His main claim is that the meaning of a law is expressed precisely because it is a command. There may be value to things even without the command, but it is the command that gives the mitzvah its binding force. For example: clearly there is logic in not running a red light even without the law, but only the legal command gives it binding force. If so, one must distinguish between the meaning of the mitzvah and its legal dimension and commanding dimension. Therefore, Rabbi Abraham argues, when halakhah requires intention, it requires intention that corresponds to the command, since that is the essence of the mitzvah—namely, intention to fulfill one’s obligation.
Later in his remarks Rabbi Abraham claims that this is also true in morality, and he identifies with the Kantian position that identifies morality with the intention of commitment to doing the good.
In addition, various claims arose concerning the issue itself, and I will try to address them as well, briefly.
Regarding Rabbi Abraham’s remarks: clearly I accept the fact that there are two parts to a mitzvah—the part of the purpose of the mitzvah, and the part of the command, that which obligates me to obey. This needs no elaboration, since it is obvious that if we were left to decide for ourselves what is right to do and what is not right to do, we would not determine it exactly according to Torah law. There is a gap between what comes naturally to us and what the Torah requires, and what bridges that gap is the command.
For me, the question is not the existence of this division itself, but rather the question of what is primary. What is the essence of the mitzvah and what is secondary. In my view, clearly the meaning and purpose of the mitzvah are what is significant in performing a mitzvah, not submission to obedience (I wrote an article about this on the Tzarich Iyun site called “This Is the Statute of the Torah,” link: https://iyun.org.il/article/%D7%96%D7%90%D7%AA-%D7%97%D7%95%D7%A7%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%AA%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%94/?fbclid=IwAR0dVqpx7skk40qpt_pJKnw2H4RL77HAHhvztFb77-YIvEsjWmuLsZVJtgo ).
The obligation is merely an instrumental tool to bring us to the meaning and the purpose, but it is not the purpose itself. That is why I think the concept “to fulfill one’s obligation” is a minimum concept—not because I deny the distinction and claim that a mitzvah consists of nothing but its purpose and meaning and there is no need for a command at all, but because I claim that the command is the lower component; the essence of the mitzvah is its inner meaning.
However, mainly, from this distinction there is a leap to the concept of intention, and that leap is not self-evident. Clearly the dimension of obligation and command is necessary and vital regarding mitzvot; the question is what is meant when we speak about “intention” in mitzvot. And here I will add a few things.
One can understand the concept of “intention” in different ways. a. Directedness, concentration, and devotion to the act (which is the special intention required in prayer, for example, and in similar mitzvot). b. Intention toward a certain content (for example: accepting the yoke of the kingdom of heaven in the mitzvah of Shema). c. Active intention to fulfill one’s obligation, meaning intention to do the mitzvah and perform the obligation. d. Intention in the sense of deepening the content and meaning of the mitzvah and “connecting” to it. e. Intention toward various contents that accompany the mitzvah, each according to his outlook (for example: to unite the Holy One, blessed be He, or to repair upper worlds), intentions common among kabbalists. Intentions of types a, b, and d I accept as meaningful intentions; by contrast, intention c (to fulfill one’s obligation) and intention e (intention toward other contents) seem to me to take the mitzvah somewhere else and disconnect from the meaning of the mitzvah.
What matters here is the discussion of whether mitzvot require intention. In my understanding, the entire discussion of whether mitzvot require intention belongs to none of these categories, and especially not to the category of active intention to fulfill one’s obligation. In my opinion, the intention in the law that mitzvot require intention is connected to what we today call awareness—awareness of fulfilling the mitzvah. Were this not so, then every mitzvah performed not for its own sake would count as a mitzvah without intention, and that is certainly not correct. If someone goes to synagogue to hear the shofar in order to please his father and not in order to fulfill his obligation, would we say he has not fulfilled his obligation? That seems absurd to me. It is clear to me that although he goes in order to please his father, he is nevertheless aware that the action he is now going to do is a mitzvah-action, and that is exactly what is needed. What is not included in this? Intention for music. That is, a person whose awareness is directed to something entirely different. He is not now performing a mitzvah but playing music. From the standpoint of the mitzvah, there is here only the technical action without any awareness. That is the discussion here.
Intentions of types a, b, and d (greater concentration, intention toward the content of the mitzvah, deepening and connection) are intentions that add to the mitzvah and do not detract from it, because they deepen the mitzvah. By contrast, intention to fulfill one’s obligation reduces the mitzvah to a technical performance. With that said, there are mitzvot in which active intention is indeed discussed, first and foremost in matters of sacrifices and piggul, but there are examples in other areas as well, such as making matzah and making tzitzit—things that depend on views of the Rishonim and are an issue in Pnei Yehoshua Tzafun? so I will not get into that here.
I now return to the main point. In mitzvot there are indeed two parts, the content and the command, but the command is only an instrumental tool of the Torah so that we arrive at the content; it is not the content itself. Therefore, when we discuss intention, we need to discuss the content and not the command. From the fact that the command is necessary and without it there would be no mitzvah, it still does not follow that the meaning of the mitzvah is only the command. These are two different discussions.
(I do not want to get into the question in ethics and Kant’s deontological morality here, because that is a completely different discussion. I will only note two points: the intention in Kant is a component connected to the definition of the law and the way I relate to the law, whereas in Torah the law is given to me; the intention in Torah is something else. Second, the intention required in mitzvot, unlike in law, is required because this is divine service, that is, worship, and not only a utilitarian act like not running a red light, where clearly there is no need at all for intention. So in my opinion the ethical discussion about intention and the halakhic discussion about intention are two different discussions.)
Rabbi Abraham brings Rambam’s statement distinguishing, with regard to Noahides, between one who performs the seven commandments because he responds to God, in which case he is one of the pious of the nations, and one who does so out of “the determination of reason,” who is “not of the pious of the nations nor of their wise.” From here he brings support for the idea that the meaning of the mitzvah-act lies precisely in responding to the command. First, this version in Rambam has already been shown to be incorrect. The true and correct version is: “not of the pious of the nations, but of their wise.” That is, this is another category, a category of sage and not of pious person, and certainly Rambam says this positively and appreciatively, not negatively. Second, the discussion in Rambam is connected to the general decision to keep these things, not to the dimension of intention. The discussion about intention and the discussion about decision are two different discussions. Certainly I keep the Shulchan Arukh because I accepted the Shulchan Arukh upon myself, but when I observe it I do not “intend” to keep the Shulchan Arukh. This is my main claim: the question of decision and the question of intention are two separate questions (as I said also regarding Kant).
Now regarding discussions that arose on the issue of intending not to fulfill one’s obligation: I will say briefly. In the Rishonim there is a well-known discussion regarding the sugya in Berakhot dealing with one who began a blessing over wine and concluded it over beer, and there there is a long discussion in the Gemara and the Rishonim, where the Rishonim ask why intention is an impediment and turns the mitzvah into an invalid one according to the view that mitzvot do not require intention. One of the explanations brought by the Rishonim (see Tosafot, the students of Rabbenu Yonah, and others) is that all that is meant by saying mitzvot do not require intention is only when he does not intend, but when he intends an opposite intention, even according to that view it does not help. The Ra’ah disputes these approaches and holds that even standing and commanded, there is no concept of opposite intention. Is there no place for these things according to what I wrote? No. The issue in this sugya is different: it deals with a blessing, whose whole meaning lies in being directed toward something (in the sense of intentionality, as the psychologists speak of it—Brentano, Husserl, and others). Clearly there is room to say that if it was directed to something else, it is not a valid blessing, because mumbling does not help here; the blessing must have direction. So this is not a matter of active intention not to fulfill one’s obligation, but of an intention that designates the blessing toward something else, and regarding that it certainly makes sense to say it is ineffective. Their words are not directed to our issue.
There is another discussion in the Rishonim in a responsum of the Rashba, who writes regarding the counting of the Omer that the congregation hearing from the prayer leader can recite the blessing over counting the Omer because he does not intend to fulfill his obligation through him. Again, this too is not relevant to our matter. All these discussions belong to a case in which I am performing a mitzvah and at one and the same time I want it not to be a mitzvah. The Rashba, by contrast, is talking about a completely different situation, in which the prayer leader is blessing. Clearly, if I do not want to join that, there is no problem doing so (after all, one needs the intention of both listener and speaker), so this discussion is not relevant to our matter. On the contrary, in another responsum the Rashba writes explicitly as I do, that the whole meaning of the law that mitzvot require intention is only to exclude mere preoccupation.
It is true that in the Acharonim this already develops into discussions about intending not to fulfill one’s obligation aimed at a mitzvah that I perform in full while making a condition or intending not to fulfill my obligation, and in truth with respect to these concepts I do not agree. But I do not recall such a discussion among the Rishonim.
Thank you for the response.
I’ll begin at the end. Regarding opposite intention, you yourself cited Rabbenu Yonah on Berakhot 12a, who brings this in the name of Rashbam, and there is no hint there that this refers specifically to blessings. He states it as a general rule in the discussion of whether mitzvot require intention, and that is how everyone understood them. But even on your view, that this refers only to blessings, one may ask why the blessing is required. You yourself explain that it is meant to create directedness of the act toward the mitzvah (intentional intention); if so, that itself contradicts your position, since you claim there is no need for that. It is enough that he performs the mitzvah, so why is intentional direction required?!
At the beginning of your remarks you wrote:
Regarding Rabbi Abraham’s remarks: clearly I accept the fact that there are two parts to a mitzvah—the part of the purpose of the mitzvah, and the part of the command, that which obligates me to obey. This needs no elaboration, since it is obvious that if we were left to decide for ourselves what is right to do and what is not right to do, we would not determine it exactly according to Torah law. There is a gap between what comes naturally to us and what the Torah requires, and what bridges that gap is the command.
And similarly later you wrote:
I now return to the main point. In mitzvot there are indeed two parts, the content and the command, but the command is only an instrumental tool of the Torah so that we arrive at the content; it is not the content itself,
But that is precisely what I explained in my remarks: the command is not merely the revelation of a fact as to what is proper in the eyes of the Holy One, blessed be He; rather, it has a dimension that turns a good deed into a mitzvah. On this we do not agree. The purpose of the command is not merely to bring to our knowledge something we would not have thought on our own. The command not to murder, for example, is entirely unintelligible on your approach. Therefore, contrary to what you say here, you definitely do dispute the commanding dimension in a mitzvah. You claim that a verse of command is a verse of indication—that is, a verse that describes and not a verse that commands. If I knew that this is God’s will, there would be no need for it. Would you say that even in the example of the red light? Astonishing! In the eighth root of Rambam you can see this explicitly: the command is a different kind of verse (and not merely descriptive/indicative). It seems to me that here lies the focal point of our disagreement.
The concept of intention, as I explained it, is not a leap (as you write here), but a necessary consequence of this distinction. If indeed the essence of the mitzvah is responding to the command (= fulfilling one’s obligation), then there is definitely logic in requiring explicit intention and not sufficing with implicit intention. Even if one fulfills one’s obligation with implicit intention, explicit intention elevates the act into the category of mitzvah. All five meanings you gave for the concept of intention are irrelevant to our discussion. It deals only with meaning c.
And therefore it is also incorrect to say that intention is required only to remove you from the category of mere preoccupation. That is absurd (and from the law of unintentional action and mere preoccupation one also sees that this is not so, as I explained in the column). If that were the situation, then simply being in synagogue when you hear the sound of the shofar does not help for the laws of intention. After all, that presence only tells us your motivation (what I called implicit intention), but you can still be merely preoccupied (not paying attention to the fact that you are hearing the sound of the shofar). So on your approach here there is not even implicit intention.
The version in Rambam is indeed “but of their wise.” I now saw that this is in fact printed here in the standard text before us, but that is only because I copied it from the Responsa Project. In my explanation one can see that I read it as he writes here. Therefore I argued that this is a good act (an act of wisdom) but not a mitzvah (an act of piety). I elaborated on this in my articles and in the third book of the trilogy.
I did not write anywhere that the meaning of the mitzvah is only the command. On the contrary, I explicitly wrote that it has value in itself. What I wrote is that what makes it a mitzvah is the command. And I do not see how one can disagree with that.
In the end, these things are utterly baffling to me.
I seem to have missed something in your line of argument.
You compare law and halakhah and claim that in law the point is not to “observe” it, but only not to violate it, unlike halakhah, where there is an obligation to fulfill the command and not merely not to transgress it. From here comes the basis for the rest of your argument.
My question is: what is the basis for this distinction between law and halakhah? What prevents us from defining halakhah too as requiring only “not to violate it,” similar to law?
The basis is empirical. The fact is that the law does not care about your intentions and motives, whereas halakhah does.
On second thought, the Chinukh דווקא supports Rabbi Navot. If the point of mitzvot is to do God’s will, as the rabbi elaborates in the second column with respect to Rabbi Asher Weiss’s approach, one could have sufficed with punishment alone, from which we would infer that the act is displeasing in God’s eyes. The warning added to the punishment reveals to us that not only is this displeasing in God’s eyes (which is why He punishes one who does it), but that in truth the act is forbidden.
It seems to me that the essence of Rabbi Navot’s approach is “Do the truth because it is truth.” And any additional dimension that is not on the side of truth is defective, even if it comes from the place of religious obligation. I admit that I identify very strongly with this position, and sometimes think this is the strength of secularity and secular people, who do things not even because of the desire to be good or religious, but because it is simply what is right in itself.
Regarding the tefillin people put on in the street:
a. You wrote that if he repents at noon, you would tell him to put them on with a blessing—this isn’t a threat; it is good for a Jew to put them on whenever he can, that is another mitzvah, and of course one should recite the blessing.
b. I think the Chabadniks proceed from the assumption that someone who comes to put on tefillin believes that there was a revelation at Mount Sinai and that he has some kind of obligation, but simply has not clarified it enough for himself, whether out of fear of commitment, laziness, or simple lack of awareness.
A person who does not believe he is obligated and does not believe in the revelation at Mount Sinai will not do such a ridiculous act and waste his time just to please a Chabad missionary.
A few comments:
1. A proof for Rabbi Navot’s conception is from the sugya in Rosh Hashanah 28, that even according to the view that mitzvot require intention, if one derived benefit he fulfilled his obligation, just as in the law of mere preoccupation with forbidden fats and illicit relations [this is true according to some Rishonim].
This is strong proof that the law of intention in mitzvot is simply not to be merely preoccupied in the mitzvah, and hence the parallel between the law of “since he benefited”
in mere preoccupation and the law of “since he benefited” in intention for mitzvot.
2. In some Rishonim [Ran on Rif, ad loc. 7b] in that sugya it is explicit that the discussion of intending not to fulfill one’s obligation applies to mitzvot and not only to blessings. This does not contradict what I wrote in the previous note, because the law of intention according to the view that mitzvot require intention differs from the law of intention according to the view that mitzvot do not require intention—think carefully.
3. An interesting proof that there can be a prohibition without a command is from the view of the Raavad and the Ra’ah that it is biblically forbidden to nullify a prohibition ab initio. Even though there is no hint of this in the prohibition itself [for at the time he eats it is already permitted, and then certainly he violates no prohibition]
Regarding footnote 1, which deals with the source of Rambam’s statement in Hilkhot Melakhim. Today it is fairly clear that the source is Midrash Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer, chapter 6, quoted below:
“The difference between the pious of Israel and the pious of the nations of the world: the pious of Israel are not called pious until they perform the whole Torah, but the pious of the nations of the world, once they perform the seven commandments that the children of Noah were commanded in, they and all their details, they are called pious. In what case is this said? When they perform them and say, ‘By virtue of what our father Noah was commanded from the mouth of the Almighty, we do them’; and if they do so, they will inherit the world to come like Israel, even though they do not observe Sabbaths and festivals, for they were not commanded in them. But if they perform the seven commandments and say, ‘We heard this from so-and-so,’ or ‘on their own understanding, because reason so dictates,’ or if they associated idolatry with the Name—then even if they perform the whole Torah, they receive reward only in this world.”
It is quite clear, also linguistically, that Rambam made use of this midrash, though he also made obvious changes here that are part of his own approach. For example, he replaced “by virtue of what Noah was commanded” with “Moses informed us of the command to Noah,” and likewise the matter of associating idolatry, etc.
It is hard to draw conclusions from the Chinukh’s words, because they contain a contradiction. On the one hand, he says that if there were only the punishment we would not know that the act is not pleasing to God. On the other hand, the Gemara asks everywhere: “We have heard the punishment; from where do we know the warning?”—that is, when it sees a punishment, it automatically assumes there is also a warning. Seemingly, according to the Chinukh, when we see a punishment the Gemara should infer that here this is not against God’s will but only a conditional punishment. The proof I brought was from the very reasoning of the Chinukh, who requires a warning in addition to punishment. According to Rabbi Navot (see also my response to his response here), the command is nothing more than conveying information to me about God’s will. The command is meant to reveal to me that murder is forbidden if I did not know it on my own. He does not see in the command a function separate from indications/descriptions. This is directly contradicted by the Chinukh.
So according to your view there is no significance to a law forbidding running a red light, or to a command forbidding pork consumption. Our situation without the command would be identical (apart from the information that this is problematic). That is absurd.
a. Are we arm-wrestling? Who threatened? I brought it only to sharpen my claim that he did not perform a mitzvah.
b. I agree. And if indeed we are speaking of a believer, then I have no disagreement with them. But from the correspondence between the Lubavitcher Rebbe and Rabbi Hutner you can see that they assume every Jew is such a person, and here I do not agree. Beyond that, in my opinion what determines the matter is what is conscious in the person, not hidden points deep in his heart (the inner point of faith in the atheist).
Indeed, I have already seen references to this midrash, and its wording also indicates that this was probably the source. In the note I meant only to sharpen my interpretation of the midrash and show that it can be a source for Rambam, because that is what it says.
1. First, I will preface with what I once heard from R. Shimon Fisher, that this Ran (who connects the law of mere preoccupation in forbidden fats and illicit relations to positive commandments) is a most astonishing midrash. But even if that is true, I do not see why it supports Rabbi Navot’s opinion. This is a position that requires explanation according to all views. On his view, it should have applied in all mitzvot and not only in forbidden fats and illicit relations. And regarding the connection to mere preoccupation, I brought clear proof from the law of unintentional action versus mere preoccupation that this is not correct.
2. Our discussion is according to the view that mitzvot require intention, so this note is not relevant (and in my opinion also not correct). Whatever we decide for that view is also true for the other view, except that there it is not indispensable. By the way, looking at the Ran there makes it clear that Rabbi Navot is mistaken. Not only does he bring the Ra’ah also regarding mitzvot and not just blessings, but the whole move there shows that intention is a requirement on a level above mere preoccupation.
3. I did not understand the proof. If you are speaking of a prohibition without a source, that proves nothing. It may be that reasoning extends the prohibition, and thus one who intentionally nullifies milk-fat in meat ab initio violates the prohibition of meat and milk (and not a prohibition of nullifying a prohibition ab initio). There are many interpretive reasonings in the Talmud. A prohibition without a command can exist only where reasoning creates a novel prohibition rather than interprets an existing one, as in blessings over enjoyment, and there it is clear that this does not create a biblical obligation.
It seems my words were not explained adequately. When I wrote that I accept the division, I meant that I accept the fact that the command has intrinsic value, because every legal system has intrinsic value—just as the legal system in the State of Israel has intrinsic value, and therefore tells me not to murder, even though independently of the law I am forbidden to murder because murder is an immoral act. In every mitzvah there is its legal dimension and its essential dimension. We can conduct the same discussion regarding civil law. My claim is that although there is a category of law that forbids me to murder, if the only reason I do not murder is because the law forbids it, then in my view that reflects moral deficiency. The law is here to enable collective existence and order (without going too deeply into different conceptions of law; this at least is according to social-contract theories and the like), and it is here as a system with an internal and meaningful logic of its own. But personally, what ought to matter to me more is personal morality—not murdering because it is an evil thing. And so too with the laws of the Torah.
My claim is that when we move to the laws of intention, we need to ask what the role of intention is: is it harnessed to my compliance with the legal system, or is it harnessed to meaning? I think that if the whole point were obedience, there would be no value at all to intention; there is no point in intending to obey, because such an intention has no significance and no added value. From the standpoint of the law, what matters is simply that I obey it. If there is an obligation of intention, that is only because there is value not only to my obeying the law but also to my intention and identification—just as in the example of state law, there is value in identifying with the prohibition against murder. Such identification is spontaneous; it does not require an “act” of intention. The action itself, done with willingness, is already intention. That is my claim.
I am certainly not claiming that the Torah is concerned only with revealing values or realities. On the contrary, the Torah also legislates, but this legislation has a formative role; it seeks to bring us to a certain place, and not merely leave us at the level of compliance.
As for intentional direction, I mean that intentional direction defines the act itself and determines the possibility of the act itself functioning as a proper act. I cannot recite “Who creates the fruit of the tree” and eat bread; that is an improper act. In the same way, intentional direction can make an act improper. This is different from general intention, whose matter is adding identification to the act.
Hello.
The fact that every law also has intrinsic value is completely agreed. That is not what the discussion is about. The question is what makes it a mitzvah/law? In my view, only the command. And therefore intention has value beyond removing the act from the category of mere preoccupation. It elevates the act into divine service (beyond being a correct act).
The question whether it is also important to create identification with the act and its goals is a different question. I am certainly willing to agree that it is, and still it is not correct to say that intention detracts and that there is no such thing as opposite intention. It is important to understand that even Kant does not mean to say that one should cleanse one’s heart of compassion and act like someone possessed by a demon (mechanical compliance with the categorical imperative). He only claims that one should perform the moral act for both reasons together: compliance with the imperative and the moral benefit. In logical terms, that means that each of these reasons is sufficient for performing the act. That is, I would do it even if it had no benefit, and I would do it even if there were no command for it. That is the perfect act, since it achieves both aims: service of God and spiritual/moral benefit. Therefore intention is required, because without it the dimension of service of God is lacking.
If you perform the mitzvah only out of compliance with the command without internalizing and identifying with the spiritual benefit, then perhaps there is room for your claim that this is a deficiency—but that is not what the discussion is about. But since it has come up, let me say something about it. I am not sure I agree that there is importance to internalization beyond compliance with the command, at least with respect to the non-rational mitzvot. Rambam’s well-known words in chapter six of Shemoneh Perakim address exactly this point. He writes there—despite what he says in chapter 8 of Hilkhot Melakhim, that the mitzvah must be done out of compliance with the command—that in rational mitzvot there is also importance to inner assimilation (identification), while in supra-rational mitzvot there is not (“I could desire it, but what can I do? My Father in Heaven decreed upon me”). And he means exactly what I am saying here: in rational mitzvot one should act by force of the command, but it is also important that there be identification as well (notice: both-and), whereas in supra-rational mitzvot the importance lies only in compliance with the command.
The intention I am speaking about is not meant to express that this is obedience. The fact that the main thing that makes an act a mitzvah is obedience is the explanation of why intention has significance of its own (and not merely to exclude mere preoccupation). The intention comes to declare and internalize within me that I am now doing my Creator’s will. Exactly as you wrote in your distinction (mistaken in my opinion) between mitzvot and blessings. There you wrote that blessings are intended to do precisely this. And I claim that this is the purpose of intention. I sit in the sukkah or hear the shofar, and say out loud and clearly that I am doing this out of obligation to the command and in order to fulfill my obligation (not in the minimal sense you attribute to that phrase). I do not see how one can dispute that such a mode of performance elevates the act into a higher divine service.
As for the role of the law/mitzvah—whether they are intended to bring us to some place—I tend to agree. But that is the reason for the verse. The halakhic definition is that one must fulfill the command (and then one reaches the higher level), and therefore this has no implication for the importance of intention. On the contrary, we reach the higher place only if we intend to fulfill our obligation and obey the command.
The intention discussed in “mitzvot require intention” is intention to fulfill one’s obligation. I see no connection to the question of reciting “Who creates the fruit of the tree” over bread and to the law of mere preoccupation.
To conclude, I return to what I already noted earlier. On your view, that intention only removes us from the status of mere preoccupation, one who hears the sound of the shofar in synagogue still needs to intend, because he may still be merely preoccupied (at the moment he may not be aware at all that he is engaged in a mitzvah). דווקא on my approach, in which intention concerns a person’s motivation and not his consciousness/awareness at the time of fulfillment, one who hears the sound of the shofar has implicit intention and therefore does not need intention (in order to fulfill his obligation. But of course explicit intention is still an added virtue for him).
[Incidentally, as came up here in the comments just now, the Ran on Rosh Hashanah 28 explicitly says that the discussion of opposite intention does not deal only with blessings but with mitzvot in general. Although this is obvious also in the sugya of Berakhot 12, as I wrote.]
After looking into it, indeed the connection is not glaring, though it is definitely a source of inspiration.
I see no connection at all. Incidentally, in my opinion there it is not speaking at all about the definition of a mitzvah, but about the definition of the permission of “for the sake of a mitzvah.” According to Rabbeinu Tam it includes things that are not mitzvot. But that is not the topic.
This is where the response to this thread belongs:
1. I didn’t understand. I said this: applying the reasoning of “since he benefited,” taken from the laws of mere preoccupation, to the law of intention in mitzvot proves that the law of intention itself means performing a mitzvah not in a state of mere preoccupation. Consequently, in mitzvot that involve enjoyment,
such as eating matzah, even if he was forced to eat matzah and did not intend [he ate while merely preoccupied], he has fulfilled his obligation because the enjoyment compensates for the deficiency
of “mere preoccupation.” But in mitzvot that involve no enjoyment, such as shofar-blowing, Shema, and so forth, if he did not intend—that is, he did the act casually and while merely preoccupied—he has not fulfilled his obligation.
All this makes sense only if we say that the need for intention is to remove the case from a state of acting while merely preoccupied. It seems to me a good proof.
2. How do you know that the meaning of “intention” in the law of an unintentional act is identical to the meaning of “intention” in the law of intention in mitzvot??
3. What you said incidentally—that was exactly my point.
4. My proof from nullifying a prohibition ab initio needs expansion, and this is not the place.
My response:
1. Not necessarily. “Since he benefited” may perhaps solve the problem of intention just as it solves the problem of mere preoccupation. First we need to understand why it solves the problem of mere preoccupation that way, and then we can discuss it. And conversely, all the Rishonim and Acharonim who did not accept Ran’s view are proof to the contrary, because what troubled them was exactly this distinction.
2. It is the same term, and that is a good indication. If you can prove otherwise, of course we can consider it. But that is the starting point. As for the “incidentally,” certainly. I was only repeating your point.
The explanation of the reasoning “since he benefited” is as follows:
the problem in mere preoccupation is not the absence of awareness as such, but the disconnect thereby created
between “the act” and “the person performing it.” Instead of “I” acting, the act is done by my body.
In other words, the person, the personality, is not present in the act being done.
When there is enjoyment, the absence of awareness does not succeed in creating that disconnect, because enjoyment does not
occur in the sphere of technical bodily movement, unlike an act that contains no enjoyment.
[I think some Acharonim explained it along these lines, but I do not remember at the moment]
I don’t see an explanation here. By the same token, you could explain that mere preoccupation does not count as fulfilling a mitzvah, and “since he benefited” makes it count as a mitzvah. And therefore it works for intention as well. But as I said, this doesn’t change anything.
The Gemara derives the 7 commandments from God’s command to Adam (“And the Lord God commanded the man, saying: Of every tree…”), so it seems that according to the Gemara there already was a command to Adam (at least according to some opinions; there are opinions that Adam was commanded in fewer mitzvot), only it was not written explicitly (but was apparently transmitted orally to Adam or to some of his descendants).
In addition, at least according to Rabbi Yosei (brought in Sanhedrin 56b), it is explicit that the rule “He does not punish unless He first warned” also applies to Noahides:
“Rabbi Yosei says: Everything stated in the section on sorcery, a Noahide is warned about it: ‘There shall not be found among you one who passes his son or daughter through the fire, one who uses divination, an enchanter, a sorcerer, a charmer, one who consults a ghost or familiar spirit, or one who inquires of the dead,’ etc.; and because of these abominations the Lord your God drives them out from before you—and He does not punish unless He first warned.”
https://he.wikisource.org/wiki/%D7%A1%D7%A0%D7%94%D7%93%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9F_%D7%A0%D7%95_%D7%91
(I don’t know whether it is explained anywhere when, according to Rabbi Yosei, the warning for this command was given—perhaps orally to Adam.)
Indeed, I actually thought afterward that in all Noahide commandments there is no command. Apparently the Gemara assumes there was an oral command. The question is according to Rambam (end of chapter 8 of Hilkhot Melakhim and his commentary to the Mishnah at the end of chapter 7 of Chullin), who requires action on the basis of the command in the Torah, and explicitly writes this regarding Noahides.
See my previous response.
On atheists’ fulfillment of mitzvot, see Responsa Ginat Veradim, Orach Chaim, rule 2, siman 31, which discusses whether there is any point in circumcising an infant whose two parents are apostates and who will likely not grow up as a Jew:
“And regarding the second doubt, we shall preface with an inquiry investigated by great men, engravers of heart, concerning fulfillment of Torah and mitzvot: whether the successes and happiness attained from them are because a nature was implanted in these mitzvot and this quality is found in them, so that anyone who fulfills them necessarily attains that happiness and success, even if he does them without intention toward the will of the Holy One, blessed be He, but simply follows the stubbornness of his heart; or perhaps the main happiness and success is when he does them with the intention that he submits to do the divine will, in light of what they said, ‘What difference does it make to the Holy One, blessed be He, whether one slaughters from the throat or from the back of the neck,’ etc. Now they were not satisfied with either of these reasons alone. For if the mitzvot are natural qualities, like eating theriac, then this is astonishing, for there is no difference between one who fears Heaven and one who does not; one might even have seven abominations in his heart while clothed in the trappings of mitzvot, and this is no way to save one from sin.
“And if we say that everything depends on the proper intention, such that when one performs the mitzvot he thereby shows himself to be submitting to the will of his Maker, and these mitzvot in themselves contain no praise or happiness by their nature—then our actions in them would be like empty acts, like a king who decreed that his servants fill water and pour it into the trash, where the servants, by doing the king’s word, show affection for the king’s words and bend to his discipline. This too is difficult, to say that these mitzvot in themselves have no superiority or benefit, and that if the Holy One, blessed be He, had commanded tying a strap to the horns of a cow, it would be equivalent to the mitzvah of tefillin that He commanded us to tie on the arm. If so, everything depends only on the intention of the heart, even if one simply sits idle entirely. Therefore they concluded that these two are joined one to the other; they shall not move or be separated from one another at all: these mitzvot are endowed with inherent qualities to bring happiness and success to one who performs them. However, they have this quality only when one performs them because of the decree of the King, because our Father in Heaven so decreed upon him; if one performs these mitzvot without this intention, they have none of that quality at all, and he acts in vain and labors to no avail. See somewhat of this in the book Akedat Yitzhak, parashat Vayishma, gate 45, part 3. And with this one can explain his saying, of blessed memory: ‘Happy is one whose toil is in Torah.’ It is not enough for him to toil in Torah through engaging in Torah and fulfilling mitzvot; there must also accompany it good intention, that he does so in order to give satisfaction to his Maker. About this Scripture says, ‘But to the wicked God says: What right have you to recount My statutes and bear My covenant upon your lips?’ Since he goes in the stubbornness of his heart and the fear of God is not before his eyes, what profit has he in performing mitzvot and studying Torah? On the contrary, heretics and sectarians who perform mitzvot and engage in Torah, not only receive no reward for this, but add sin and wrath to their sin; concerning them Scripture says, ‘They have rejected the word of the Lord, so what wisdom is there in them?’ This is like one who flaunts himself by wearing royal garments to let people know that he is one of the great men of the kingdom who submit to the king’s authority and are bowed to his service, while he is a rebel against the monarchy—for he shall surely be punished for these trappings with which he adorns himself.”
“According to these words, the words of the Tur are properly understood, when he wrote (Yoreh De’ah, end of siman 266): ‘A Jew who apostatized and married a Jewish woman and a son was born to them—we circumcise him on Shabbat, and we do not presume that he will go out to evil culture, since his mother is Jewish.’
These words are from the responsa of the Geonim, and his intention is clear: when both father and mother are apostates, there is no hope for that child, for he follows the tendencies of his father and mother, and what gain is there in circumcising him, since he will become heretical and go out to evil culture? Therefore it is fitting to withhold from him the mitzvah of circumcision. However, when at least his mother is a fully Jewish woman, there is hope for that child, that his mother will guide him in the way of God and he will not go out to evil culture. This is certainly the intention of the Tur.”
Hello Michael, my name is Asaf Ziderman, and I teach lecture series in mechinot and women’s study programs on Israeli Judaism, and I find your position fascinating for all kinds of reasons and excellent material to present to my students. I wonder whether your position regarding the essence of the mitzvot (categorical imperative, etc.) is in fact identical to that of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch on this matter (for example in his introduction to Horeb). It seems identical. Is it? Also, have you written anywhere more comprehensively about your conception of the essence of the mitzvot, and have you written about the difference between your conception of mitzvot and that of Yeshayahu Leibowitz? Sorry for all the questions—it’s interesting and I’m curious! Thanks in advance!
Hello.
I am not familiar with Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch’s position.
My conception is very similar to Leibowitz’s, but as usual he took it too far. The fact that the obligation to observe mitzvot is based on a categorical imperative and on the duty to obey it does not mean that they have no reasons or benefits. Exactly like morality: the obligation to behave according to its rules does not arise from the benefit such behavior brings. See, for example, here in column 122 and elsewhere.
My position regarding halakhah is described in the third book of my trilogy, Mahalakim Bein HaOmdim.
As a rule, I do not engage in comparisons. I argue what I have to argue, and do not deal with the question whether it resembles the doctrine of so-and-so or the claim of such-and-such a person. Nor do I usually engage in the theological doctrines of various thinkers.
Excuse me, but if you don’t engage with the theological doctrines of others, why should others (we) engage with your theological doctrine? Did you formulate a doctrine as though reinventing the wheel without studying the work of others? There was once a rabbi who wrote a book of pilpul on the Gemara and wrote in the introduction that he does not study the Acharonim. He brought it to some great rabbi; the great rabbi leafed through it, then closed the book and said to him: “I also don’t study the Acharonim.”
Who asked you to engage with my doctrine? If it is of no use to you, then don’t.
I think he means he doesn’t engage obsessively in comparisons and cataloging theological doctrines…
Not that he is totally unfamiliar with them…
Anyone who says that he performs a mitzvah so that the Holy One, blessed be He, will unite with the Shekhinah (“for the sake of union”) has certainly committed the grave sins of idolatry and sexual immorality, along with several other severe transgressions.
The only intention should be what the Children of Israel said: “And all the people answered together and said, ‘All that the Lord has spoken we will do.’”
And then one may not intend specifically regarding a particular mitzvah, but only that it is part of: “All that the Lord has spoken.”
And therefore they put “we will do” before “we will hear”: “All that the Lord has spoken we will do and we will hear”—first we fulfill, and afterward we ask questions, form intentions, and clarify reasons.
One must perform the mitzvah because that is what God said, and not in order to “fulfill one’s obligation,” because such an obligation is a fiction and does not exist.
Following Rambam, you claim that one who fulfills a mitzvah because it is a good act and not because there is a command has indeed done a good act and is pious and moral, but has not fulfilled a mitzvah.
Why don’t you also say the reverse—that one who fulfills a mitzvah (that is, a good act) because it is a mitzvah and not because it is good is indeed righteous and an exemplary servant of God, but is not a good and moral person?
I do claim that about morality as well.
So what is preferable? To fulfill a mitzvah because it is a mitzvah and be righteous, or to fulfill a mitzvah because it is a good act and be moral/pious/wise?
To fulfill it because of both. Why choose only one?
I still haven’t had time to look into it; I’ll wait for the long Saturday night. I’ll just note here, regarding Rabbeinu Tam at the end of סימן רמ”ח about setting sail on a ship for the sake of a mitzvah, that everything is considered a mitzvah except going on a pleasure trip, and see there in the Beit Yosef. And in the Frankel index on Rambam, I think in perek lamed—in any case, on that topic—they elaborated a great deal. Presumably this will help you for the upcoming columns.
Shabbat shalom