What Is a Mitzvah II: Between Obligation and Fulfillment (Column 343)
In the previous column I discussed the role of intention in a mitzvah. I tried to show that the intention to discharge one’s obligation elevates the act and turns it into an act of mitzvah—contrary to Rabbi Na'avat’s view, who sees intention merely as a requirement not to be “unwittingly occupied” (mit'asek), since in his opinion the act itself is a mitzvah; therefore, he holds that intending to discharge the obligation only lowers the value of the mitzvah. I explained there that the root of the dispute is the question of what a mitzvah is and what counts as fulfillment of a mitzvah. Rabbi Na'avat implicitly assumes there is no principled difference between a mitzvah and a good deed, whereas in my view these are two entirely different notions: a mitzvah requires a command (just as a law requires legislation), and the command creates the mitzvah as a kind of external object (this is precisely what Rabbi Na'avat denied).[1] I argued that intention in fact expresses a turning toward that external object, and its purpose is to attribute my act to that object, namely to express that the act is performed in response to the command and out of commitment and the desire “to discharge the obligation” (which in Rabbi Na'avat’s eyes is a base notion that diminishes the act’s value), and not merely because of the value inherent in the act (which is apparently the meaning of mitzvah according to Rabbi Na'avat).
Along the way I noted that the underlying conceptions are legal positivism (my own view) versus natural law (Rabbi Na'avat’s view). On my account, an act becomes a mitzvah only by virtue of the command; therefore, an act that is consciously performed with explicit intention to respond to the command elevates the status of the mitzvah-act. As I wrote there, in this column I will discuss the words of Rabbi Asher Weiss, which stand in contrast to the conception assumed by Rabbi Na'avat, and I will explain why I tend (though not entirely) to side with Rabbi Weiss.
Rabbi Weiss’s Novelty
This past Sukkot a friend sent me (thanks to my friend Shmuel Keren) a fascinating lesson by Rabbi Asher Weiss given to yeshivah students in the COVID quarantine hotels. By way of preface: there is a Torah prohibition against using the wood of the sukkah for non-mitzvah purposes (see Sukkah 9a and Beitzah 30a). Another preface: when it is raining, there is no obligation to sit in the sukkah, for the rule is that dwelling in the sukkah must be “as you dwell” at home. A person does not remain in a house if rain is pouring inside; therefore there is no obligation to sit in the sukkah in such a situation. The Rema in the Shulchan Aruch, §639:7, writes that one who sits in the sukkah in the rain is called a simpleton (a hedyot), based on the principle that “whoever is exempt from something and does it is called a simpleton.” From his words it follows that this is merely a needless act but not prohibited. The well-known difficulty raised by the author of Responsa Oneg Yom Tov is how this is permissible: that person is making use of the sukkah’s wood for a non-mitzvah purpose. A similar question arises regarding women. As is known, according to most authorities women may fulfill time-bound positive commandments, including sitting in the sukkah. The question is how this is allowed, for sitting in the sukkah when it is not for the sake of fulfilling a mitzvah—unlike other mitzvot—is a prohibited act. They are not commanded to do so; therefore their sitting in the sukkah involves the prohibition of using the sukkah’s wood. One might say regarding women that it is indeed a mitzvah, only that they are not obligated—this is commonly assumed, and I will comment on it below. But with sitting in the rain, the difficulty is of course greater.
Many answers have been offered to this question, and Rabbi Weiss presents them and rejects them all.[2] In the end he proposes an original and fascinating possibility of his own to resolve the difficulty, and here I wish to focus. He argues that sitting in the sukkah is a mitzvah even in the rain, only that we are not obligated in that mitzvah (as the Gemara puts it: one who is distressed is “exempt” from the sukkah). He goes further: not only are we not obligated, but the Holy One does not want it, and our sitting is repugnant to Him. The Mishnah (Sukkah 2:9) describes it thus: “To what is this comparable? To a servant who came to mix a cup for his master, and the master poured a pitcher on his face.” And yet, contends Rabbi Weiss, sitting in the sukkah in the rain is still fulfillment of a mitzvah; therefore one cannot say that by sitting there he violates the prohibition of using the sukkah’s wood. The prohibition exists only when a person does so outside the framework of the mitzvah. With this he resolves the difficulty of the Oneg Yom Tov.
The Theoretical Significance of His Words
His position contains a major innovation about the concept “mitzvah”: in his view, the term mitzvah has some kind of objective existence. An act can be defined as a mitzvah regardless of whether it constitutes fulfillment of the Divine will. A person can perform an act that is against God’s will, yet formally still be considered as doing a mitzvah.
At first glance his conception seems very similar to that of Rabbi Na'avat. He, too, relates to the content and utility of the mitzvah and not only to fulfilling God’s will. He even radicalizes it further, since in his view it is possible that a person fulfills a mitzvah without thereby fulfilling God’s will. The act is a mitzvah simply by being performed, full stop. But this comparison is superficial and rash. First, why indeed would God not want this act if it is a mitzvah? Does He not want us to do mitzvot? And conversely, if He truly does not want it, why is it a mitzvah?
Note that in defining the term “mitzvah,” Rabbi Weiss indeed does not refer to God’s will (indeed he even ignores it), but he does refer to the command. Without a command there is no mitzvah. The mitzvah of sukkah became such only because we were commanded to sit in a sukkah on these days. A person who sits in an invalid sukkah or at another time (not on the festival) does not thereby fulfill a mitzvah. One cannot sever the mitzvah from the command—the command is what defines the act as a mitzvah. Rabbi Weiss’s novelty is that the command defines the mitzvah, and that definition remains in force (i.e., it is still a mitzvah) even if, for some reason, God does not want us to do it. Seen this way, it becomes clear that Rabbi Weiss’s approach is actually the very opposite of Rabbi Na'avat’s. In his definition he relates only to the command, not to utility and meaning. If the act had utility and meaning, God would certainly want us to do it. If He does not want it, then apparently fulfilling the mitzvah in that manner does not bring the intended benefit. When it is raining, the utility and meaning of the mitzvah are absent, and yet it is still called the mitzvah of dwelling in the sukkah. God abhors such a mitzvah and it has no benefit, yet the act remains defined as a mitzvah because there is a command.
On his view, the definition of mitzvah is ultra-formal; in this sense Rabbi Weiss’s approach is squarely opposed to Rabbi Na'avat’s. Once an act has been defined as a mitzvah, it is detached from the will of the One who commanded it. As it were, God created a spiritual world of mitzvot, and this is now a reality. Just as fire burns even if God “does not want” it to burn—because these are the laws of nature—so too one who sits in a valid sukkah on Sukkot fulfills a mitzvah even if God does not want it. There is here a reality of mitzvah. The command created this spiritual world and brought into being the reality of mitzvah; now it stands on its own and is not dependent on God’s will. This is extreme positivism: the command, as it were, creates the mitzvah, and it now has an objective existence. According to natural-law theory, the very essence of mitzvah is that the act has spiritual or moral utility (and that, it would seem, is determined by God’s will, not by the command).
A Mitzvah Without a Command: Women and Time-Bound Positive Commandments
Rabbi Weiss’s basic claim is that one who sits in the sukkah while it is raining is like someone who fulfills a mitzvah from which he is exempt—for example, like women who fulfill time-bound positive commandments. He says that according to all views they have a mitzvah, only they are not obligated. Here we have a mitzvah without a (personal) command. True, there is a command for men, but not for women; nevertheless, women who fulfill the mitzvah are considered to be doing a mitzvah, and according to some views even recite a blessing over it.
But this is not a sufficiently good example, since in that case there is a command that defines the act as a mitzvah, and women are merely exempt (not obligated to fulfill, but allowed to fulfill). Moreover, women who fulfill a time-bound positive command are not doing anything wrong; they are merely exempt. By contrast, one who sits in the sukkah while it is raining is doing something that is not God’s will (like the servant whose master poured the pitcher on his face), and not for nothing is he called a “simpleton.” And yet Rabbi Weiss claims that even there this is fulfillment of a mitzvah.
Furthermore, for my part I never understood why the early authorities held that women indeed fulfill a mitzvah in this (the later authorities define it as a “kiyyumit,” existence-type mitzvah). Simply put, at most they do a good deed (since there is no command), but they do not have fulfillment of a mitzvah (not even a kiyyumit). Does a kohen who separates terumah thereby fulfill a mitzvah? He is not commanded and therefore it is not his mitzvah. Such a kohen is a simpleton and might also be transgressing “bal tosif” (adding). It seems to me that women’s exemption from time-bound positive commandments is not merely lack of obligation but that they are not addressed by these commandments at all. And indeed one may discuss whether, on my view, a blessing is applicable at all in such a case (for in the blessing one says “Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us,” and here there is no command). One may dismiss this, since according to some opinions one blesses even over a custom, and perhaps there is a custom that women fulfill these mitzvot; therefore perhaps one can also bless. But it seems more plausible that the early authorities understood that women are merely exempt (i.e., not obligated to fulfill), but it is a mitzvah for them as well (like a “kiyyumit” mitzvah).
At the beginning of his commentary to the Sifra, the Ra’avad writes that a woman who fulfills a time-bound positive commandment may do so even if it involves violating a prohibition—that is, for her too the rule applies that a positive command overrides a negative—even though she is not commanded. I have never understood this: even if a “kiyyumit” mitzvah overrides a prohibition, a good deed that is not a mitzvah certainly does not override a prohibition. Indeed, many disagree with the Ra’avad on this, though apparently only because when there is no obligation to fulfill the mitzvah there is no justification to override a prohibition, not for my reason. In any case, even if I retract and accept the ruling of the early authorities that this is a kiyyumit mitzvah, still the case of women does not prove Rabbi Weiss’s claim. In the case of the sukkah it does not appear to be mere exemption but that there is no mitzvah at all. Otherwise I do not understand why one who does so is a simpleton. He wishes to gain a mitzvah even though he is not obligated and even pays for it with discomfort. The Mishnah’s description and his designation as a simpleton suggest there is no mitzvah here whatsoever. Rabbi Weiss himself senses this and fends off these difficulties.
Several Difficulties
He cites from the Birkei Yosef that one who blesses over sitting in the sukkah while it is raining recites a blessing in vain. This would seem to prove there is no mitzvah.[3] As noted, the Rema writes that one who sits in the sukkah in the rain receives no reward and is a simpleton. Despite these two determinations, Rabbi Weiss repeatedly emphasizes that he maintains his position: one who sits in the sukkah in the rain fulfills a mitzvah. He is a simpleton, he receives no reward for that mitzvah, and his blessing is in vain—but his sitting in the sukkah is a mitzvah.
To explain this he says that reward is not received for fulfilling a mitzvah but for bringing satisfaction to God by fulfilling His will and serving Him. In sitting in the sukkah in the rain there is no service of God, and according to the Mishnah God is telling us through the rain, “I do not desire your service,” meaning that this mitzvah is not His will. Therefore there is no reward, yet there is fulfillment of a mitzvah. He brings, pointing to the other side of the coin, the saying of the Sages that one who intended to do a mitzvah and did not do it is credited as if he did it. In his view he receives reward as one who fulfilled a mitzvah, because from the standpoint of satisfaction and service of God, there is full service; but there is of course no fulfillment of a mitzvah (ones—coercion—does not count as action). This indicates a disconnect between whether a mitzvah was fulfilled and the question of reward. This proof seems problematic to me: even if reward is given for serving God and not necessarily for fulfilling a mitzvah, when there is fulfillment of a mitzvah I would expect reward to be given.
Rabbi Weiss also asks why the blessing is in vain and answers that blessings over mitzvot are rabbinic, and the Sages would not institute a blessing over a mitzvah that is not the will of the One who commands. Again, one can accept this if one accepts the (dubious) assumption that such a mitzvah is possible.
In the course of his remarks he formulates that in sitting in the sukkah while it is raining there exists a “cheftza of mitzvah” (an objective mitzvah-object). This is the most distinct expression of a positivist view of the mitzvah as a formal definition—that there is a mitzvah in some objective sense. That person did precisely what he was commanded, even though it was not the will of the Commander. The one who is distressed is exempt (!) from the sukkah, but it is not written that he does not have the mitzvah of sukkah. He is simply not obligated.
Two Examples
He now brings two examples of situations in which there is a mitzvah even though the Commander does not want us to fulfill it in that way. The first example is the dispute whether mitzvot require intention. He begins with what seems to him obvious as an egg that one who fulfills a mitzvah without intention receives no reward. The dispute whether mitzvot require intention or not concerns only whether there is a mitzvah here. But a mitzvah without intention is not God’s will, and one who fulfills it without intention receives no reward. For example, one who sounded the shofar as a musical performance (Rosh Hashanah 28a) fulfills his obligation. This is so even though he had no intention to fulfill the mitzvah and even transgressed a rabbinic prohibition (producing sound, playing music). Yet according to the view that mitzvot do not require intention, he fulfilled the mitzvah. He will not receive reward because there is no service of God here; he intended to make music—so for what would he receive reward? He adds that such a person will also receive punishment for the rabbinic transgression, even though he fulfilled the mitzvah and discharged his obligation (sounding again with intention will not help him, because he has already discharged it).[4] Is it conceivable that he receive reward for doing a prohibited act (a rabbinic transgression) when he had no intent to fulfill the mitzvah?! He will not be punished for neglecting a positive command, because he fulfilled it; but certainly he will not receive reward for its fulfillment.
Rabbi Weiss claims that the same applies if Persians coerced him to eat matzah, or if someone was reading the Torah and the time for the Shema arrived. In both cases, according to the opinion that mitzvot do not require intention, he discharged his obligation; and here there is no accompanying rabbinic prohibition. But to him it is obvious that even in these cases a person receives no reward for the mitzvah, because there is no act of service of God.
A second example is agency (shaliach) in mitzvot. When a person fulfills a mitzvah through an agent, he certainly discharges his obligation; but to him, it is obvious that the agent receives the full reward. The sender did not serve God; there is no reason to give him reward. Reward is not given for fulfillment of the mitzvah but for the service of God involved—and here the service was done by the agent. For example, a person sent an agent to check for chametz in ten houses he owns. Is it conceivable that the agent toils all night checking for chametz while the sender sleeps peacefully at home—and the sender receives the reward for this mitzvah?![5]
He brings a proof from the Rosh (Chullin 6:8), who cites a dispute among early authorities regarding one who appointed an agent to circumcise his son, and another came and preempted and circumcised the child. The Sages fined that one who snatches a mitzvah must pay ten gold coins to the owner of the mitzvah. The early authorities disagree whether the one who circumcised must pay the ten gold coins to the agent, or is exempt. The Shach (Choshen Mishpat §382) asks why no one says he should pay them to the father (the sender). Rabbi Weiss explains that there is no reason to pay the father, because the father did not lose any reward: the sender does not receive reward for a mitzvah that his agent performed. The sender discharged the mitzvah, but he lost no reward, hence no payment is due to him.
A Mitzvah Performed Through a Transgression
But all these examples are not comparable to our case. What we learn from fulfilling a mitzvah without intention, or through an agent (a mitzvah without personal action), is that reward is not given for fulfilling the mitzvah but for serving God—and in such cases there is no service of God. But this was not Rabbi Weiss’s main novelty; that is relatively easy to accept. His bolder claim was that even an act that is against God’s will can itself be considered a mitzvah-act (i.e., fulfillment of a mitzvah). This is truly astonishing. In the two examples he brought, there is no prohibition in what the person did; rather, the fulfillment was carried out in a shallow and inferior manner. Moreover, if rainfall empties the mitzvah of its content, why retain the halakhic definition of sitting in the sukkah in such a situation as a mitzvah? If there were a problem for some independent reason, one might say there is a mitzvah though it is not the will of God; but sitting in a sukkah in the rain is not problematic in and of itself, and therefore it seems more reasonable that in such a situation there is simply no mitzvah. It is very hard for me to accept Rabbi Weiss’s novel thesis.
It seems to me that a more pointed example of Rabbi Weiss’s positivist thesis can be brought from the sugya of a mitzvah that comes through a transgression (mitzvah haba’ah ba’aveirah)—strange that he did not cite it. As is known, a mitzvah that comes through a transgression is not a mitzvah, and one does not discharge his obligation through it. For example, one who steals matzah and eats it does not fulfill the positive commandment of eating matzah. It would seem that we see here that a mitzvah-act performed against God’s will is not a mitzvah at all (and not merely that no reward is given). The source cited is the verse “I am the Lord who hates robbery in a burnt offering.” From the fact that God hates an offering when it is brought through robbery, the Sages derive that there is no mitzvah at all. This stands in direct contradiction to Rabbi Weiss’s assertions, for we see that God’s will determines whether a person’s act counts as a mitzvah or not.
But there is another discussion here that sheds a different light. The Gemara (Sukkah 9a)—the same page on which the prohibition of using the sukkah’s wood appears—cites a verse from which we learn that a stolen sukkah is invalid: “You shall make the festival of Sukkot for yourself” (from yours, not stolen). Tosafot there (s.v. hahahu) ask: why is a verse needed? It is a mitzvah that comes through a transgression; even without the verse one who sits in such a sukkah would not have fulfilled the mitzvah. They are forced into answers, and several solutions have been offered. But the Minchat Chinuch (mitzvah 325, §9) offers his own answer; I will quote him in full:
It seems to me as follows: There are two kinds of positive commandments. One is an obligation upon the person, like tefillin, etrog, and eating matzah; a mitzvah of this kind—if he fulfills it—he does the will of the Creator, for so the King has commanded him. And if he neglects the mitzvah and does not put on tefillin or did not take the lulav, he has neglected the mitzvah and acted against His will and will be punished. And there are mitzvot one is not obligated to do, such as tzitzit: the Torah did not obligate him to wear a four-cornered garment. If he wishes, he may go without such a garment and is not acting against the will of the blessed Creator. But if he brings himself into a state of obligation by specifically wearing a four-cornered garment in order to fulfill the mitzvah of tzitzit, this is the good and upright way. In general: if he fulfills this mitzvah, he does the will of the blessed Creator; but if he does not fulfill the mitzvah, he does not transgress His will—he merely fails to fulfill the mitzvah.
Up to here he distinguishes between obligatory and existence-type mitzvot,[6] and now he turns to discuss the mitzvah of sukkah:
So too this mitzvah of sukkah has two elements. On the first night of Sukkot there is a positive commandment to eat an olive’s volume in the sukkah, and one is obligated to search out a sukkah; if he does not wish to eat, it does not help, for he is obligated to eat—like matzah and tefillin—and if he did not fulfill the positive commandment on the first night, he acted against His will. But on the other nights and days, if he wishes he does not eat and does not sit in the sukkah, and there is no further obligation upon him—like tzitzit. However, if he eats, there is a positive commandment to eat in the sukkah, and he fulfills His will; but if he does not eat there is no obligation. And in these two mitzvot there is likewise a scenario in which he neglects the mitzvah and acts against His will—for example, if he wears a four-cornered garment without attaching tzitzit, he transgresses the mitzvah; and similarly, if he eats a fixed meal outside the sukkah, he transgresses the mitzvah. In general: if he performs the mitzvah, in all cases he fulfills the mitzvah and does His will; sometimes he does not fulfill the mitzvah and transgresses His will (as in wearing a four-cornered garment without tzitzit or eating a fixed meal outside the sukkah); and sometimes he does not fulfill the mitzvah and also does not transgress (as in not wearing the garment at all or not eating). This is clear.
In this passage the Minchat Chinuch explains that he does not mean a “kiyyumit” mitzvah but rather a conditional obligatory mitzvah. What characterizes it is that it has three states: if one fulfills it, he has fulfilled a positive command; if he does not actualize the circumstances that obligate, he has nothing (neither fulfillment nor neglect); and if he actualizes the circumstances but does not fulfill the mitzvah, he neglects it. Thus it is with sitting in the sukkah on the remaining days, unlike the first night, where it is an unconditional obligation.
In light of this preface, he now resolves the Tosafot’s question cited above:
It seems that the reason a mitzvah that comes through a transgression is invalid is that the Holy One does not desire it and it is not acceptable before Him, for “let not the defense attorney become a prosecutor” (Sukkah 30a), and “I am the Lord who hates robbery in a burnt offering.” Because of this it is quite proper to say that he did not discharge the mitzvah—for this is not the will of the blessed Creator—and thus he did not fulfill the mitzvah. This applies properly to an obligatory mitzvah: since he did not discharge his obligation, by definition he did not perform the mitzvah—these are interdependent, as explained. But for mitzvot that are not obligatory, such as tzitzit and sukkah on the other days of the festival, if they come through a transgression—indeed he did not fulfill the will of the blessed Creator, for this is not His will—yet nevertheless he did not neglect the mitzvah; he simply did not fulfill it. It is like one who does not wear any garment at all or does not eat at all: he did not neglect and did not fulfill. Here too: although he did not fulfill the mitzvah, for it is not desirable before Him, nevertheless he did not neglect; we cannot judge him as one who ate outside the sukkah or wore a four-cornered garment without tzitzit. Rather, it is as if he did not perform the mitzvah at all: in reality he is wearing tzitzit and eating in a sukkah, but it is not desirable before Him—it is as if he did not fulfill the mitzvah, but we cannot deem him to have neglected the mitzvah, for in reality he is performing it. Consider and understand.
He explains the need for a verse invalidating a stolen sukkah as follows: without the verse, sitting in such a sukkah would be a mitzvah that comes through a transgression; if a person fulfills such a mitzvah, he indeed has not fulfilled a mitzvah (for it is not God’s will), but he has also not neglected it. One who sat and ate in a stolen sukkah did not eat outside the sukkah: he sat and ate in a valid sukkah, only that the mitzvah he performed is not desirable to God. Therefore he would not discharge his obligation on the first night (when there is an obligation), and he would not have fulfilled a mitzvah on the other days either. But he also would not have neglected it. Put differently: his mitzvah is not God’s will, and therefore there is no fulfillment of a mitzvah by the person; but one cannot say that, in reality, he ate outside the sukkah (a defect in the object), for the sukkah is not invalid. Only the verse teaches us that a stolen sukkah is invalid in the object; hence a verse is needed.
Note that, in contrast to Rabbi Weiss, the Minchat Chinuch assumes that God’s will defines the mitzvah as a mitzvah; therefore, in a mitzvah performed through a transgression—where the fulfillment is not God’s will—it is clear to him there is no fulfillment of a mitzvah. Yet he does accept Rabbi Weiss’s idea regarding the objective definition of mitzvot, and that this is indeed detached from God’s will. Even if God does not want my fulfillment of the mitzvot, there is a mitzvah here in the sense that I ate in a sukkah. Rabbi Weiss is at least correct regarding the absence of neglect, even if not regarding fulfillment.
I note that the words of the Minchat Chinuch are rejected by almost all later authorities known to me. R. Chaim of Brisk and R. Shimon Shkop, and all who follow them (the heads of yeshivot in recent generations), refuse to accept his distinction between non-fulfillment and neglect. In their view, if a person did not fulfill the mitzvah, he has neglected a positive command: neglect of a mitzvah means simply that he did not fulfill it. I would add that, on this point, there is logic in the Minchat Chinuch’s words. His claim is that the person’s mitzvah is worthless since it is not God’s will, but one cannot say he neglected the positive command. Neglect is not mere non-fulfillment (a neutral notion), but carries something negative. The person did not eat in a sukkah, but one cannot say he ate outside a sukkah. This is precisely what the Minchat Chinuch means when he says he is like one who did not eat at all; therefore he is not obligated in the sukkah and has not neglected a positive command. Rabbi Weiss takes it a step further: in his view, even fulfillment of the mitzvah may occur against God’s will, not merely absence of neglect. That is indeed far-reaching. Note, however, that in the Minchat Chinuch’s case (a stolen sukkah) the mitzvah is performed through a transgression, whereas sitting in the sukkah in the rain involves no transgression—only the expression of God’s displeasure (as in the servant whose master poured the pitcher in his face). That is an aggadic explanation, not a halakhic definition; thus perhaps there is room even for Rabbi Weiss’s assertion that fulfillment of a mitzvah against God’s will is possible (so long as it is not an actual transgression).
The distinction made by the Minchat Chinuch here parallels the distinction I drew above between law and halakhah. I argued there that to the legislator it does not matter whether you fulfill the law; from his perspective you only need not violate it. Therefore, the legislator does not care about your intention and motivation in “fulfilling” the law. By contrast, in halakhah it matters that you fulfill the law, not merely that you do not violate it. Therefore, in halakhah intention matters (and this is not only to exclude being “unwittingly occupied”).[7] Here the Minchat Chinuch distinguishes between neglecting a positive command and merely not fulfilling it. In this terminology one can say that in state law only violation applies, not mere non-fulfillment.
Comparison to Sitting in the Sukkah in the Rain
Even if the Minchat Chinuch is correct, it seems one cannot adduce proof from his words to Rabbi Weiss’s principle. In the case of a mitzvah performed through a transgression there is a side problem not intrinsic to the mitzvah. The act of sitting in the sukkah is done halakhically and without defect; only to enable it, a robbery occurred—which is a separate matter. He does not indicate any problem in the act of sitting in the sukkah itself, but in something else. If so, in a mitzvah through a transgression there is a positive side (sitting in the sukkah) and an independent negative side (robbery). In such a situation there is room to say that a mitzvah was done even though it is not God’s will (because of the robbery).
But in sitting in the sukkah while it is raining there is no other problem detached from the sitting (as we see in robbery). Apparently God does not want the very sitting in the sukkah at that time. Therefore there are two interpretive possibilities:
- Perhaps the Torah does not demand that a person suffer rain in order to sit in the sukkah. But on that reading, one who does so is certainly not a simpleton; on the contrary, he deserves great esteem for his dedication to fulfill the mitzvah beyond what is required.
- For some reason, when it is raining there is no benefit to sitting in the sukkah; but then it is very plausible that there is no mitzvah at all in such sitting. Therefore with sitting in the rain there is no logic in saying there is a mitzvah even though it is not the will of God. If it is not His will, there is probably no mitzvah in it.
In short, Rabbi Weiss’s words are very puzzling. I think he is correct in his positivist conception that a mitzvah has an objective existence, and that such an act has the character of mitzvah solely by virtue of the command. But when the act is performed against God’s will, it is implausible to still define it as a mitzvah. Above I already noted that this is evident from the rationale for the law of a mitzvah performed through a transgression itself—especially from the source “I am the Lord who hates robbery in a burnt offering”: from the fact that God hates the act, the Sages infer there is no mitzvah-act here. This stands squarely against Rabbi Weiss’s words. Yet from the Minchat Chinuch on the law of a mitzvah through a transgression, we still see that a mitzvah has an objective existence not dependent on God’s will but on the definition created by the command. But that is only when the problem is a side issue like robbery, not when the mitzvah-act itself is against God’s will.
The Object (Cheftza) of Prayer
As is known, the Rambam and the Ramban disagree about the status of prayer. The Rambam holds there is a Torah-level command to pray, and the Sages merely fixed the text and times; the Ramban holds that prayer is entirely rabbinic. R. Chaim, on the Rambam (Hilchot Tefillah 4:1), where he distinguishes between different intentions in prayer, notes the following:
And even if this could be so without any reason, there is more to add: according to the Rambam, the obligation of prayer and its mitzvah are from the Torah; and even according to those who disagree with the Rambam, that is only in its obligation—but its fulfillment and essence are, for everyone, from the Torah…
Even according to the Ramban, one who prays has fulfillment of a mitzvah from the Torah, although there is no Torah-level obligation to pray.[8] Perhaps likewise, the Patriarchs, who prayed before we were commanded, fulfilled the mitzvah of prayer according to the Rambam (and even the Ramban). One could say that according to all views, at the Torah level there is a “cheftza of prayer,” and the dispute is only whether there is a Torah-level obligation to pray. The concept exists at the Torah level even per the Ramban. From this he draws consequences regarding the different intentions in prayer (some of which are conditions for the mitzvah and others conditions in the object of prayer).
What does this statement mean? It seems clear that for him the act of prayer has some normative status. As a matter of fact, it is clear that the Patriarchs prayed—this is uncontested. The question is whether we can view that act as a mitzvah-act when, in their time, there was no command. R. Chaim argues yes: the act has normative status even without a command. This is a factual matter, since there exists an abstract object in objective reality (independent of command), or, if you like, an idea, called the “cheftza of prayer.” Therefore, when a person prays, this is not merely a descriptive statement; the act has a normative-halakhic dimension.
At first glance R. Chaim seems to be saying the opposite of what I wrote above. Simply put, it appears that in his view there is no need for a command for there to be a mitzvah in the world—precisely Rabbi Na'avat’s position. But I think this is a mistaken reading. First, he assumes the positivist premise that a mitzvah indeed has some objective existence (a cheftza of mitzvah), and that it is not merely the act itself. It is plausible that what turns it into a mitzvah is the intention, not the mere action (especially in the absence of a command). As I mentioned, R. Chaim himself derives from this distinction conclusions regarding intention. Beyond that, R. Chaim is not speaking of a cheftza of mitzvah but of a cheftza of prayer. In his view, prayer is a pre-halakhic concept that belongs to reality itself. Therefore, from time immemorial, one who prayed indeed performed an act of prayer that has normative meaning, even though there was no command. But he does not dispute that only the command at Sinai turned it into a mitzvah. The proof is that if not, it is unclear what changed between pre-Sinai and post-Sinai according to the Rambam. If even before the command it was a mitzvah, why was a command necessary? It is thus clear that the Rambam holds it became a mitzvah only after the command; R. Chaim’s claim is merely that even beforehand it had a normative status of “standing before God,” though not a mitzvah.[9]
In conclusion, I have no doubt that R. Chaim—although he spoke of a cheftza of prayer even before the command—would not accept Rabbi Na'avat’s claim that an act of prayer as such is a mitzvah, and that intending to discharge the obligation only harms the prayer rather than benefiting or elevating it. Intention is what turns a proper and worthy act into a mitzvah, for now it is done in a focused manner to discharge the obligation of the mitzvah. And as noted, even where intention is implicitly present, one who succeeds in acting with explicit intention elevates his act to a higher level of service of God.
[1] At the end of the previous column I noted that even in a moral act, intending to do it as a response to the moral imperative elevates it and is certainly not superfluous. I assume Rabbi Na'avat would not agree with this either.
[2] For some reason he does not address some of the answers. For example, there are views among the poskim that the prohibition of using the sukkah’s wood exists only if one physically removes materials from the sukkah. Passive use is not prohibited. This apparently depends on the nature of the prohibition (the Gemara analogizes the sukkah to the festival sacrifice; the question is whether the prohibition is like using consecrated property, or is a standalone prohibition. With consecrated property, passive use is also prohibited—for example, it is prohibited to enjoy sitting in the Temple’s shade).
[3] True to the ways of contemporary learners, he assumes his words must fit the Birkei Yosef (he could have said he disagrees and that in his opinion it is indeed not a blessing in vain). Moreover, all the later authorities who offered other answers to the Oneg Yom Tov’s difficulty certainly disagreed with his foundation, so why presume that the Birkei Yosef does not hold like them? Perhaps the difficulty is merely a setup for the answer.
[4] This point can be discussed in light of the Ra’avad cited by the Rivash, who says that if a person betrothed a woman through an agent, he should betroth her again himself (since “a mitzvah is greater when done by oneself than by one’s agent”), even though she is already betrothed to him. We also see this in the Sha’agat Aryeh and in Beit HaLevi on tzitzin she’einan me’akvin, who cite the Gemara in Menachot regarding one who brought a sin offering and then found another animal of the same kind, that he should bring it as well. The discussion there concerns the well-known case attributed to R. Chaim of Brisk: one has before him a particularly beautiful etrog that is of doubtful validity, and another etrog that is valid but not as beautiful— which should he take first? It is reported in R. Chaim’s name that he should take the beautiful one first, because if he takes the valid one, he will certainly have fulfilled the mitzvah and there will be no point in taking the beautiful one afterwards. From my remarks here it follows that R. Chaim is not correct, but this is not the place.
[5] Perhaps he will receive reward for the effort of appointing the agent, and if he paid him then also for the expenditure—but not the reward of the mitzvah itself.
[6] Note that the mitzvah of tzitzit is not a kiyyumit mitzvah; this is a common mistake. It is a conditional obligatory mitzvah. With a kiyyumit mitzvah there is no possibility of neglecting it (there is no “neglect of a positive command”), but with tzitzit one can neglect the positive command if he wears a four-cornered garment without tzitzit. Therefore it is an obligatory mitzvah (one must attach tzitzit), only the obligation is conditional upon certain circumstances (wearing a four-cornered garment). But this is no different than Birkat HaMazon, which is conditional upon eating to satiation. Does anyone think Birkat HaMazon is a kiyyumit mitzvah?!
[7] In the third volume of my series on Talmudic Logic (which deals with deontic logic), I explained that in a modern legal system there are no positive obligations (aseh) but only prohibitions (lo ta’aseh). I showed there that the duty to pay taxes or serve in the army is a “negative that arises from an implied positive,” not a positive command. The legislator does not reward one who does these things; he complains only about one who fails to do them. One implication is that intention is not required in complying with the law, because one is not demanded to fulfill the law but merely not to violate it. For a prohibition, no intention is needed.
[8] The distinction between saying that someone discharged his obligation and saying that he has fulfillment of the mitzvah is discussed in my essay on Parashat Vayeshev in Midah Tovah (5767), later included in the book La’asot Mitzvotekha, regarding the levirate marriage (yibbum) of a minor. See the examples I cited there—all of them deal with situations in which there is fulfillment even when there is no command.
[9] See a halakhic and interpretive implication of this determination regarding the rule “Scripture repeats something to make it indispensable,” in my essay here.
Discussion
I didn’t understand what difficulty Rav Navat raised that you are trying to solve, and how this solves it.
I didn’t hear Rav Weiss’s shiur, but it is clear that the exemption of one who is distressed is different from exemptions in other mitzvot. Rav Yosef left a sukkah into which thin splinters were falling even though the porridge had not become spoiled, because “distress” is a subjective matter. And a person who has no roof over his head, and if he does not sleep in his sukkah will sleep out in the street in the rain, would seem not to be exempt from sleeping or sitting in the sukkah, and for him this is apparently a mitzvah. (This is also clear from the view accepted in halakhah that one recites kiddush in the sukkah on the first night even when it is raining.) And if a person deceives himself, or truly convinces himself, that he is not distressed (or that the joy of fulfilling the mitzvah cancels out his distress because of the rain), it would seem that he does not have the status of one distressed by the rain. Therefore one cannot say about anyone who already entered the sukkah that after the fact he did not fulfill a mitzvah. So it seems that, uniquely in the case of sukkah in the rain (an exemption that does not exist in any other mitzvah), it is only that there is no obligation in the mitzvah, but not really that one does not fulfill it.
Someone who fulfills a mitzvah only because of the command and does not understand the good in it is a fool.
So you can say that at the beginning, for educational reasons, it is legitimate to be a fool, but someone who has grown up and still does this without understanding is just an idiot. And it’s okay to be an idiot, but there’s no need to come and spread stupidity to the wider public. He is, after all, a fool.
Even if you were right that the exemption of one who is distressed is subjective (and in my opinion it is not always so. In the rain there is a criterion established objectively, to the point of the spoilage of the porridge, though that may vary from person to person), what does that have to do with our discussion? Whenever you personally are distressed, you do not fulfill a mitzvah. Even if you claim there is a mitzvah in it, like Rav Weiss, this is in no way related to the subjectivity of the distress.
A. Once it is subjective, a person can continue to obligate himself, claiming that in fact he is not distressed. Therefore, someone who already sat in the sukkah would be treated as someone who is not distressed (which you cannot do in other places where a person is exempt from a certain mitzvah).
(How would you relate to a person who sleeps in a sukkah in light rain? As is known, the threshold for “distress” is lower regarding sleep; on the other hand, it is clear that many people in light rain would prefer to continue sleeping in the sukkah.)
B. Again, how do you deal with the opinion that one must recite kiddush and eat an olive’s bulk in the sukkah on the first night even in the rain? (Surely you do not hold like that opinion? Is that where the dispute lies?)
C. More examples: one who is engaged in a mitzvah and therefore exempt from another mitzvah, but fulfills the second mitzvah anyway—could one imagine that he is not considered to have fulfilled the second mitzvah? (Again, perhaps this is the dispute: whether the exemption applies only where it is impossible to fulfill both, or to anyone engaged in a mitzvah? Even according to Tosafot, if a person managed to fulfill both, did he not fulfill a mitzvah?)
D. A specific example: Rabban Gamliel, who recited the Shema after getting married—did he not fulfill the mitzvah of Shema? And likewise today, when everyone recites it? It seems quite obvious that he did (to me at least—that is what his students claimed, no?)—again an example of a subjective matter: whether you are able to concentrate or not. We would not say that someone who voluntarily takes an obligation upon himself did not fulfill the mitzvah.
Do you understand the good? What is the good in tefillin? Sukkah? Everything I’ve heard until now has been rather flimsy explanations, purposes that could have been achieved much better in other ways
These are examples of mitzvot that are defined on the basis of a person’s elusive “psychology”—what can you do?
You are not answering what I asked. When the subjective conditions are met for that person, and it turns out that he is distressed—why is there a mitzvah here in his case? How is that different from a case in which “distressed” were an objective rule? And if the conditions are not met, then he is simply not distressed, and again I ask: how is this different from ordinary sitting in a sukkah?
I didn’t understand your questions. I did not say that whenever a person is exempt he never fulfills a mitzvah (though that too is debatable). I wrote that here we are dealing not with an exemption but with the absence of an obligation. Certainly according to the Rema, who wrote that he is a fool. Rav Weiss speaks even according to the Rema’s view.
Wait, Rabbi, are you a positivist in general, or is that specific to this issue?
No. Only on this issue. Positivism is a much broader position than the foundations of law. I have written quite a bit against it.
I didn’t understand why a mitzvah that comes through a transgression is a problem according to the positivist conception of mitzvot.
On the basic level one can argue that the verse teaches us that a mitzvah that comes through a transgression does not create an objective mitzvah-act, like other cases that do not meet the parameters of the mitzvah.
But beyond that, in the positivist conception of mitzvot one can discuss whether transgressions too have an independent existence, and thereby they impair the objective creation of the mitzvah that comes through a transgression, and not because at this moment God does not want it—unlike the case of rain in the sukkah, where indeed God does not want it, but there is a mitzvah-act there (“an interceding angel,” brother, hooray).
Accordingly, perhaps one can look a bit differently at R. Chaim’s words.
Prayer is a direct influence of the human being on that spiritual plane in which mitzvot have objective existence (adding power in the upper worlds, according to his great-grandfather). The question whether this influence is itself a mitzvah is a dispute among the Rishonim; however, according to R. Chaim everyone agrees that a person has the ability to do this and to create a cheftza of prayer.
(And this runs counter to your whole conception of prayer. But that is not the topic of this post, so let us leave it aside.)
The problem is not the rule of a mitzvah that comes through a transgression itself, but its source. The verse “I the Lord love justice, I hate robbery in a burnt offering” does not say that there is no mitzvah here, but that God hates such an act. But the Sages infer from this that there is no mitzvah in it. According to Rav Weiss’s view, the fact that the Holy One, blessed be He, hates it does not mean that there is no mitzvah here.
By the way, you are mixing two planes here: the question whether at the foundation of mitzvot or transgressions there is something real (a purpose, benefit, flaw, or harm) is agreed upon. The question is whether calling some act a mitzvah is a statement about objective reality or merely a normative statement.
As for prayer, I didn’t understand what you added. By the way, this also does not run counter in any way that I can see to my own view. But it is not the topic of the post, so let us leave it aside.
Isn’t this the concept of “Who asked this of you, to trample My courts”? There too there is fulfillment of a mitzvah in all its particulars and details, and there is no room to say that it is not a mitzvah. But nevertheless, the Holy One, blessed be He, does not want it because of the context in which it is fulfilled. And as Maimonides writes in the Laws of Repentance.
Not similar. There the flaw is not in the mitzvah itself, but in the atmosphere surrounding it.
With God’s help, 24 Marcheshvan 5781
In my humble opinion, both R. Michael and R. Menachem are right.
The service of God begins with a feeling of accepting a yoke, a feeling of “mighty in strength, who perform His word, to heed the voice of His word.” But afterward comes the feeling of delight found in “bringing satisfaction to his Maker,” in carrying out the divine purpose to which performing the mitzvah leads, and in the very drawing close to the Creator that there is in doing His will.
A person begins like Abraham, standing in a trial and fulfilling his Creator’s will even when he does not understand, but ends by seeing the mitzvot of God as “Your consolations delight my soul.” When a person is ready to fulfill God’s mitzvot even “in sorrow”—he merits, “at the end of the day,” the quality of “This one will comfort us from our deeds and from the toil of our hands.”
With blessings, Sh.Tz. [= Both Are Right]
On the distinction between an obligatory mitzvah and an optional mitzvah and a mere act of piety, see the responsum of the Geonim https://hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=1365&pgnum=71
Many thanks. It is a very interesting reference, and there is much to discuss there. At first glance he distinguishes between an obligatory mitzvah and a merely fulfilled mitzvah, but in truth it implies that he distinguishes between a mitzvah and a matter of value (or an act of piety). As far as I understand, he means as I do: that there really is no mitzvah here (not even a merely fulfilled one), but rather a worthwhile matter. Admittedly one receives reward for it, as Rav Weiss wrote—that reward is received not for fulfillment of the mitzvah in the formal sense, but for service of God (just as one receives reward for other things that are not mitzvot, moral conduct and the like).
No. He distinguishes between an obligatory mitzvah and an optional mitzvah (such as the evening prayer), and between an optional mitzvah (such as the evening prayer when he has not untied his belt) and a mere act of piety (such as reciting songs and praises, or the evening prayer when he has untied his belt!). Look there carefully.
And what is explained there—that when he has untied his belt, the mitzvah is gone (even the optional one), and there remains only an act of piety to pray, like one who stands at midnight to recite songs and praises—is evidence against Rav Weiss, may he live a good long life. For it implies that once one is exempt there is no mitzvah here at all, even though there is service of God here (and he has reward), and all the more so regarding the mitzvah of sukkah when rain is falling.
I do not see the slightest proof against Rav Weiss (what you write here is a repetition of Rav Weiss’s own words and not something against him), but I do not have time right now to delve into that responsum there.
And ostensibly one can prove that the act of a mitzvah has intrinsic value even without a command, from what the Sages said—that Abraham our father fulfilled all the mitzvot even before he was commanded.
With blessings, Sh.Tz.
Only the mitzvah of circumcision Abraham could not fulfill without a command, for circumcision is the cutting of a covenant with God, and a covenant requires two sides, and one cannot make a unilateral covenant.
There is no proof here at all. Who says there was fulfillment of a mitzvah here and not merely a good deed?! On the contrary, in my opinion it is quite clear that these were not mitzvot (and R. Chaim too wrote what he wrote only about prayer and not about eruv tavshilin).
And I have not even mentioned that the rabbinic description that Abraham fulfilled all the mitzvot is aggadic midrash and not a historical description. Of course one can still perhaps argue that the midrash comes precisely to teach this point—that fulfillment of mitzvot is possible even before the command. To that, my remarks above apply.
It is obvious that this counted for Abraham as “mitzvah,” for it is expounded from the verse: “Because Abraham obeyed My voice and kept My charge, My commandments, My statutes, and My laws.”
With blessings, Sh.Tz.
With God’s help, eve of the holy Sabbath, “I will also draw for your camels,” 5781
The prophet Micah solves the “Euthyphro dilemma” (perhaps his friends called him “Michi” 🙂) in his “trilogy,” when he says: “He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you.” Both are present: both “good” in itself, and also fulfillment of God’s mitzvot.
Indeed, the three principles established by the prophet Micah include not only the fulfillment of duty, “to do justice,” but also the full building of personality: on the one hand, “the love of kindness”—not only doing kindness, but doing it out of love; and on the other hand, “to walk humbly with your God,” so that as a result of the blessed activism of “doing justice and loving kindness,” one should not come to a feeling of pride, but remain in humility and modesty before the Creator, who is the source of the justice and love of kindness in our hearts.
With Rebecca too, the two aspects exist. On the one hand, she fulfills the request of the thirsty man to give him water to drink, and on the other hand she notices that there are camels whom she was not asked to water, yet on her own initiative she sees to it that their thirst is quenched—not merely by giving them the leftovers from the man’s drink, but by drawing again and again until they have drunk all they need.
Even when she is asked, “Whose daughter are you?” Rebecca answers more than she was asked, and mentions not only her father but also her grandfather and grandmother: “I am the daughter of Bethuel, son of Milcah, whom she bore to Nahor,” and in this she explains the source of her generous heart, for she is the granddaughter of Milcah, who bore Nahor eight sons—the record-holder for childbirth in the Book of Genesis.
And with all her virtues, Rebecca conducts herself modestly, and when she meets the one destined to be her husband, she covers her face out of modesty and respect.
With blessings, Euthyphro Nefishteim
The statement “Drink, and I will also water your camels” that Eliezer is hoping for could also come from another direction, out of preserving health. Eliezer hopes that an intelligent young woman will not bring home the leftovers in a jar from which a strange man has drunk, since who knows what diseases he may carry, but in her cleverness she will act with “tact”: she will not pour out his leftover drink before him, but will offer it to his camels.
But Rebecca “goes one step further.” If watering the camels were only a matter of manners, Rebecca would not draw water again for the rest of the camels. Her willingness to draw especially for the camels proves that there is here not only “tact,” but a sincere aspiration to do kindness for the guest and his camels. Eliezer found not only caution, cleverness, and manners, but “the love of kindness” at its best.
With blessings, Yaron Burlai Halevi Workheimer
Rebecca will reveal this wise combination of caution and “tact” later on the journey, when she arranges Jacob’s flight to Haran without Isaac knowing the real reason—Esau’s plot to kill Jacob. A person who in his righteousness places trust in people and judges them favorably needs a wife who knows how to protect him from those who exploit the trust placed in them for evil.
In Berakhot 31a, the Gemara says: Whoever sits in a fast on Shabbat, his decree of seventy years is torn up, and nevertheless they punish him.
Interestingly, Rav Hai Gaon on this Gemara (Otzar HaGeonim) was troubled by the issue of the above post:
“If it is a mitzvah (to fast on Shabbat), there should be no punishment upon him! And if there is punishment in it, it is a mitzvah through a transgression… for there is nothing that has reward and punishment together, in one and the same respect.”
And he concludes: “That which says, ‘and they go back and punish him,’ is entirely incorrect,” and those words should not be included in the text.
If only he had read the post, or at least heard R. Asher’s shiur, he would not have deleted words from the Talmud…
To Rabbi Michi
Hello and blessings!
I read the last two posts and enjoyed them.
A. Your position, which is opposed to that of Rav Navat, fits well with the recent posts (according to his approach). Since in your understanding there is no concept of Jewish values, there is no reason at all to assume that a Jew who refrains from murder because of the moral value in that restraint would be defined as fulfilling a mitzvah, as opposed to a gentile. All the lofty values to which the mitzvot lead, and which may be their purpose, still do not define the act as a mitzvah or its performer as an observant Jew. Only one who fulfills the mitzvot out of commitment to God, and not to Kant, to Jesus, or to any other god, can merit this definition.
B. I agree with you that logically speaking, there is no reason to assume that a good act required by reason alone would be a mitzvah as long as there is no command. At most one can say that the Commander commanded us to do any act that is good by reason, and if we do that act out of commitment to the command, we elevate the good act and make it into a mitzvah. (And one should investigate whether a kindhearted person who gives charity to the poor, and intended to do so both out of commitment to morality and out of commitment to the mitzvah, has fulfilled both, or perhaps neither takes effect, or perhaps only one of them. This requires study.)
C. I thought to prove otherwise from the Gemara in Megillah 14a: “Our Rabbis taught: Forty-eight prophets and seven prophetesses prophesied to Israel, and they neither subtracted from nor added to what is written in the Torah except for the reading of the Megillah. What exposition did they use? R. Hiyya bar Avin said in the name of R. Yehoshua ben Korha: If from slavery to freedom we say song, then from death to life all the more so.”
Even if the song over going from slavery to freedom is a reasonable and value-laden act, clearly there was no command there. If so, how can one derive by a kal va-chomer (which is also reason) from an obligation that is not based on a command?
One can say that indeed the ordinance of reading the Megillah is also not a command, and the elders of that generation were not obligated to institute the reading of the Megillah, but rather they felt a rational need for it. The Commander commanded us to obey what the elders of the generation say (and presumably that obligation also applies to them, to obey their own enactments), and if we read the Megillah out of commitment to the command of the elders, we fulfill a mitzvah.
It turns out that to a certain extent there are two conflicting values in fulfilling the mitzvah of reading the Megillah. While on the one hand we feel a moral and rational need to sing to the One who redeemed us from death to life (what is called: the value of gratitude), in order to raise this act to the level of a mitzvah (something for which one receives reward…) we have to ignore that commitment and perform it only out of commitment to God’s command to obey the elders. Complicated, no?
In any case, I do not think that is the Sages’ intention there. It seems more that reason itself is what defines the act as a mitzvah, and because of that their words indeed puzzle me.
D. It may be that indeed every good (and moral) act is a mitzvah, but specifically when a person does it out of commitment to the general commandment to do good things. In doing so, a person removes himself from the possibility of being moral and chooses to be religious. According to this, any action that it is logical to say is God’s will, and I do it because I want to find favor in His eyes, by that I fulfill a mitzvah.
E. According to this, women too, in time-bound positive commandments—since reason says that this is a good act even if there is no command regarding them—when they do it they fulfill a mitzvah. For the Commander commanded doing good things, and that is what they are doing, even though they are not obligated.
And since we’re already talking, I really think that Rav Weiss innovated here something that cannot be understood. I do not understand why a mitzvah-act that is against God’s will should be considered a mitzvah, and it seems to me a logical contradiction.
I would resolve the difficulty to which he is referring in a different way.
The prohibition against using the wood of the sukkah ab initio does not apply to the actions with which the mitzvah itself is performed. Since eating, sleeping, and being in their shelter are precisely the actions under discussion, they were excluded from the prohibition against deriving benefit from the wood of the sukkah, and therefore, even if he is not fulfilling a mitzvah (for example, an imbecile, who I think even Rav Weiss would agree does not fulfill a mitzvah by eating in the sukkah), he does not violate the prohibition of benefiting from the wood of the sukkah.
With blessings
This seems less plausible to me, but there are other answers and there is no need to force it. For example, what I wrote in the note—that only use of the sukkah wood itself (taking it from the sukkah) is included in the prohibition.
Where did you find a command to say Hallel on Passover?
I know of one solid source (Pesachim 117a), which of course is nothing but reason—and not just reason, but of the “it cannot be imagined otherwise” type: “And this Hallel, who said it? The prophets among them enacted for Israel that they should say it on every chapter and chapter, and on every trouble that should not come upon them, and when they are redeemed they say it over their redemption. It was taught: R. Meir would say, all the praises stated in the Book of Psalms were said by David, as it is said, ‘The prayers of David son of Jesse are ended’—do not read ‘are ended’ but ‘all these.’ Who said this Hallel? R. Yose says: My son Elazar says, Moses and Israel said it when they rose from the sea; and his colleagues disagree with him and say that David said it. And their words seem preferable to his: is it possible that Israel slaughtered their Passover offerings and took their lulavs and did not say song? Another explanation: Micah’s idol stood weeping and Israel were saying Hallel.”
At least according to Rashi (on Megillah 14a), the song said upon going out from slavery to freedom is the Song at the Sea, which certainly did not come by command.
If I am right about this, the pilpul returns to its place.
First, the kal va-chomer is only the explanation for why the Sages instituted the reading of the Megillah. The halakhic force is the enactment of Hazal, not the kal va-chomer. See Ramban in his comments on Shoresh 4, where he writes this. That is regarding Rashi’s view, who wrote that it refers to the Song at the Sea. But the Turei Even disagrees with him and argues that at the Sea it was from death to life and not from slavery to freedom, and therefore explained that it refers to Hallel on the night of Passover. And that is a regular law, which indeed is not de’oraita according to most views, but the reading of the Megillah is not de’oraita either.
And regarding “you shall do what is right and good”:
I thought you were moving to a broader discussion than the numbering of the commandments. It is clear to all of us that there is no obligation to be good. In other words, when I do not do good properly (from a moral standpoint), it is impossible to define me as someone who is not observant. But I definitely think that between the views you presented in the post—namely, Navat’s view that a mitzvah is its final value regardless of commitment to God, and your view that a mitzvah is performing an action regarding which I received a command—there is also room for the view I expressed (though I am not sure it is my own view): that a mitzvah is doing any action whatsoever that I think is God’s will, such as any moral action, out of a desire (even if not obligation) to fulfill His will. There is a tremendous difference between my view and Navat’s, because while according to him the ultimate goal (in the mitzvah of acts of kindness, for example) is that I be a good and moral person, according to me the ultimate goal is that I be a person who does God’s will, which in this case happens to coincide with moral values.
That is not an intermediate definition. Every moral act is like that.
I didn’t understand the Minchat Chinukh. If sukkah is a conditional obligatory mitzvah (on the other days), that is, when the circumstances obtain (he is eating), he is obligated to eat in the sukkah—meaning he is obligated to eat under the sukkah, otherwise he has neglected a positive commandment.
In other words, a conditional obligatory mitzvah when the circumstances obtain = an obligatory mitzvah.
If so, when he sits (on the other days) to eat in a stolen sukkah, why don’t we say that he has neglected the positive commandment with which he was obligated?
Who says he has not? Simply put, if he eats outside the sukkah on the other days it is like the first day. Unless you say that on the other days it is a positive prohibition (that one is merely forbidden to eat outside the sukkah, rather than there being a conditional obligation to eat in the sukkah).
The Minchat Chinukh answers that we need the verse, because were it not for the verse (that is, if we only had the rule of a mitzvah that comes through a transgression), I would say: fine, he does not fulfill a mitzvah, but still it is not as though he ate outside the sukkah.
And therefore, on the first day, where there is an obligatory mitzvah—meaning that fulfillment and neglect are interdependent—if he does not fulfill it, then he has neglected it. So on the first day, if he eats in a stolen sukkah, he neglects the mitzvah.
But on the other days, one might have thought that since there is no obligation, then even if he does not fulfill it, still he has not neglected anything. Therefore we need the verse.
But this is difficult for me: granted, if it were a merely fulfilled mitzvah, it would make sense—he has no fulfillment, but also no neglect, because he did eat under a sukkah. But if under these circumstances (when he comes to eat) it becomes an obligatory mitzvah (because it is a conditional obligatory mitzvah and not a merely fulfilled one), then when he has no fulfillment (because it is a stolen sukkah), he also actively neglects the mitzvah incumbent upon him. It is like eating outside, because the mitzvah was not fulfilled and therefore he neglected the positive commandment.
I explained. It is because he mistakenly thinks that if there is no obligatory mitzvah, the only alternative is to see this as a positive prohibition (a prohibition inferred from a positive command). But that is not correct. It is a conditional obligatory mitzvah.
Ignoring note 2, Rabbi Navat could argue that indeed, someone who sits in the sukkah in the rain is also making use of the wood of the sukkah not for the sake of the mitzvah, and that the Rema was not precise.
By the way, at the time I checked, and the only place where “for the Lord” appears outside the context of sacrifices is only sukkah.