The Melakhah of *Hotza’ah*, Shabbat, and Our Function in the World (Column 345)
This year we are studying the first chapter of Tractate Shabbat. Naturally, our opening focus was on the melakhah of *hotza’ah* (carrying/transporting between domains), which the Rishonim famously define as a “lesser melakhah” (*melakhah geru’ah*). I have always wondered what this melakhah is really about and why it occupies a disproportionately large space compared with the other melakhot. This year, out of this inquiry, a clearer understanding crystallized for me regarding the essence of the forbidden labors on Shabbat, one that has broader philosophical ramifications, and I’d like to present it here.
Avot and Toldot on Shabbat
On Shabbat there are thirty-nine primary categories of labor (*avot melakhah*) listed in the Mishnah (Shabbat ch. 7). Each of these *avot* has *toldot*—labors that resemble the *av*. Almost no melakhah is stated explicitly in the Torah; they are all derived from it indirectly. The exceptions are kindling (“You shall not kindle fire in any of your dwellings on the Sabbath day”) and *hotza’ah* (there are several verses related to it, and opinions differ about the precise source). As for plowing and reaping, which are also mentioned in connection with Shabbat, Hazal at the beginning of Mo’ed Katan divert the verse to plowing and reaping in the sabbatical year. Regarding kindling, the Tannaim debate why the Torah singled it out (whether “to make it a mere prohibition” or “to divide” the labors). As for *hotza’ah*, there is no such discussion in the Talmud itself, but the Rishonim explain that it is mentioned because it is a “lesser melakhah” (see below).
According to most opinions, the list of *avot* is learned from the Mishkan, arranged by importance (Bava Kamma 2a). The labors performed in the Mishkan are described in the Torah as “skilled work” (*melechet machshevet*), and their juxtaposition to the prohibition of labor on Shabbat teaches that what is prohibited on Shabbat is likewise *melechet machshevet*. Thus, for example, it is clear that we would not prohibit walking or sitting, even though those also took place in the Mishkan. The list includes the meaningful labors that were in the Mishkan. Below I will touch on other laws learned from the definition of *melechet machshevet*. I note that there are views that the list is learned from the number of times the term “melakhah” and its cognates appear in the Torah (Shabbat 49b).
Naturally one asks: how do we classify labors into *avot* and their *toldot*? The Gemara in Bava Kamma 2a discusses the relationship between *av* and *toldah* with respect to Shabbat, tum’ah, and damages. Regarding Shabbat it says:
“And what practical difference is there between an *av* and a *toldah*? The difference is that if one performed two *avot* together, or two *toldot* together, one is liable for each and every one; but if one performed an *av* and its *toldah*, one is liable for only one. And according to Rabbi Eliezer, who deems one liable for a *toldah* in place of an *av*, why call this one an *av* and that one a *toldah*?—That which occurred in the Mishkan is considered important and is called an *av*; that which did not occur in the Mishkan is called a *toldah*.”
As noted, the definition of *av* and *toldah* is set by importance and by presence in the Mishkan. Commentators debate the relationship between these two parameters (occurrence in the Mishkan and importance),[1] and I will return to this below. But there are almost no halakhic ramifications. The Gemara here notes, according to the first Tanna, a halakhic consequence if one performs an *av* and its *toldah* in a single lapse of awareness—he is obligated only one sin-offering (just as if he performed the same *av* twice in one lapse). This would seem to mean that the *av* and its *toldah* are considered one prohibition, which could affect warning (*hatra’ah*) for a *toldah*.[2] But from here it follows that different *avot* are certainly different prohibitions. On the other hand, none of the enumerators of the commandments treats the Shabbat labors as thirty-nine separate prohibitions; all count them as a single commandment.
Warning for a Subcategory of Labor on Shabbat
Under halakhah one cannot punish an offender unless there was prior warning by witnesses, who inform the offender that his act constitutes a transgression and that its penalty is such-and-such. In addition, the offender must accept the warning—“Yes, and on that condition I act” (which, of course, then renders punishment impossible due to obvious insanity). The Rishonim disagree about what the warning must include—how one informs him of the relevant prohibition. In Minhat Hinukh commandment 32, three positions are cited: from Rambam (Sanhedrin ch. 12) it appears one need not warn with the specific name of the prohibition; it is enough to tell him he is violating a halakhic prohibition with penalty such-and-such. Tosafot (Mo’ed Katan 2b) write that one must warn him with the name of the prohibition (you are violating Shabbat labor, eating forbidden fat, etc.). And Rashi (Shevuot 20b) writes that the warning must also include the verse that prohibits the act.
Now, regarding the labors of Shabbat—*av* or *toldah*—it would seem that the warning must specify the particular melakhah (and that it is not enough to mention “Shabbat labor” generally or the verse “You shall not do any work”). Regarding a *toldah* it is accepted that one must warn “because of the *av*.” The principal source is Shabbat 138 (re *shomer*), which debates whether he is warned because of *borer* (selecting) or because of *meraked* (sifting). The Minhat Hinukh there challenges all three views above: why must one mention the *av*? The name of the prohibition is Shabbat desecration, and the prohibiting verse is “Keep the Sabbath day.” And according to Rambam one doesn’t even need the name of the prohibition. Why, then, must one warn a *toldah* on account of its *av*?
This brings us back, of course, to whether each *av* is a separate prohibition. The natural answer is that the various Shabbat labors are different prohibitions, as though each were written in a different verse (even though, as we saw, in practice none is explicitly written—and need not be). Indeed, the Tosafist Rid (on Shabbat 138, in the discussion about warning a *shomer*) writes:
“Because of what do we warn him?—Since kindling was singled out ‘to divide,’ it is as though a separate prohibition were written for each and every melakhah. It is like the prohibitions of forbidden fat and blood, which are distinct from each other; one must warn for fat because of fat and for blood because of blood, and so too for each and every melakhah.”
He holds that each *av melakhah* is an independent prohibition (this is learned from the Torah’s writing of kindling—“to divide,” i.e., to teach that each *av melakhah* is a separate prohibition), like fat and blood; therefore one warns separately for each *av*. As noted, for a *toldah* one presumably warns on account of its *av*; it is not a separate prohibition.[3]
However, in several places Rashi implies that the Shabbat labors are all one prohibition. For example, on Shabbat 72b s.v. “chelev v’dam,” he writes that fat and blood are like reaping and grinding, which are “like distinct bodies.” This suggests he views them like distinctions of objects (i.e., performing the same prohibition multiple times on different objects).[4] So too on Shabbat 68a and Keritot 17.[5]
Still, even according to Rashi we must answer the Minhat Hinukh’s question (why warn for an *av* or warn a *toldah* on account of its *av* rather than with the general name/verse). It seems that, on his view, the Gemara’s intent is that one may (!) warn on account of the *av*—that is, to innovate that this too counts as warning with the name of the prohibition—not that one must (!) warn on account of the *av*. Indeed, in his code Rambam brings a practical difference between *av* and *toldah* only regarding the sin-offering, not regarding warning (so the Minhat Hinukh also infers there).
Explaining the Dispute: The Basis of the Shabbat Melakhot
It seems that the core dispute between the Tosafist Rid and Rashi is whether the critical parameter for defining a melakhah as an *av* is the importance of the melakhah or its occurrence in the Mishkan. If importance is the determinant, one needs a criterion to rank importance—apparently the degree of creativity (*yetzirah*) in the melakhah. In that case, all the labors are manifestations of one prohibition of creativity. That is the view that these are different expressions of one prohibition. But according to the Rid, for whom each *av* is a separate prohibition, there need not be some shared substantive element; consequently, each *av* is its own prohibition.
I’ll add another note that I discussed in my article on conceptual construction (see ch. 3 there). In Bava Kamma 6a–b the Gemara teaches that some subcategories of damages are learned via the common-denominator (*tzad hashaveh*) of two *avot* (i.e., they cannot be derived from a single *av*). But in Shabbat we never find a *toldah* learned via *tzad hashaveh* from two *avot*. As far as I checked, it’s not in either Talmud, nor in the Rishonim or Aharonim.[6] This phenomenon seems to support the Rid’s view that the *avot melakhah* on Shabbat do not share a common denominator.[7] So too emerges from the plain reading of the Gemara on 72b, which compares two *avot* to fat and blood (contrary to Rashi there). But according to Rashi, who writes that these are distinct “bodies” (*gufin*), it seems all the labors have a shared core (*tzad hashaveh*): creativity. God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh; that’s what is demanded of us as well.[8] If so, on his view it remains unclear why we don’t find derivations via *tzad hashaveh*. Perhaps it’s due to resolution: Shabbat has very many *avot* (damages has only four), so they cover the *toldot* more densely, leaving no *toldah* that can’t be placed under some *av*.
In any case, according to Rashi, it seems that what is prohibited on Shabbat is creativity, and the various labors are merely different modes of creativity. But according to the Rid, there are thirty-nine different prohibitions, and there need not be any intrinsic element of creativity. Consequently—at least on Rashi’s view—the *toldot* are labors in which the creativity is diminished, hence less important and less distinctive; whereas for the Rid they may simply be less distinctive (since creativity is not the relevant parameter). Now we can consider the implications for *hotza’ah*.
*Hotza’ah* as a “Lesser Melakhah”
I noted above that *hotza’ah* is explicitly mentioned in the Torah, and the Rishonim write that this is because it’s a “lesser melakhah.” The source for *hotza’ah* appears in Shabbat 96b, which derives it from the verse “And Moses commanded and they caused it to pass throughout the camp”:
“Since throwing is a subcategory of *hotza’ah*, where is *hotza’ah* itself written?—R. Yohanan said: as it is written (Ex. 36), ‘And Moses commanded and they caused it to pass throughout the camp.’ Where did Moses sit?—In the camp of the Levites; and the camp of the Levites was a public domain. He said to Israel: Do not take out and bring in from your private domain to the public domain. And how do we know this was on Shabbat? Perhaps it was on a weekday, simply because the work was completed, as it is written (Ex. 36), ‘And the work was sufficient,’ etc.?—We derive ‘causing to pass’ from ‘causing to pass’ with Yom Kippur: here it says ‘they caused it to pass throughout the camp,’ and there it says (Lev. 25) ‘You shall cause the shofar to pass’; just as there it is a prohibited day, so too here it is a prohibited day.”
Note that the Gemara takes pains to prove the incident occurred on Shabbat (“And how do we know this was on Shabbat?”). This is puzzling, since even if it were on a weekday, it would be enough to show that it was done in the Mishkan context to prove it is prohibited on Shabbat. Evidently, even if we knew the act took place in the Mishkan, we would not necessarily prohibit it, because we might regard it as a banal activity (as I already noted, in the Mishkan they also sat and walked, and no one imagines prohibiting sitting or walking on Shabbat). Thus the Gemara needed an explicit source that it is forbidden on Shabbat. This is a hint from the Gemara itself that *hotza’ah* is a “lesser melakhah,” something banal like walking or sitting. (Though the Yerushalmi and R. Hananel appear to disagree.)[9]
Indeed, Ran’s novellae here note that with respect to *hotza’ah*, Hazal didn’t even entertain the question of why this melakhah was written explicitly (as they did for kindling). He explains that it was obvious to them: it was written explicitly because it is a lesser melakhah. So write other Rishonim as well. One can still ask about the status of *hotza’ah* once we have a verse prohibiting it: perhaps a verse was required because *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah, and the verse comes to teach that it is not lesser. Or perhaps the verse teaches that even though it is lesser, it is nevertheless forbidden (and even after the conclusion it remains a “lesser” melakhah).
In fact, according to Riva in Tosafot s.v. “Yetsiot,” 2a, it seems he does not hold *hotza’ah* to be a lesser melakhah (compare to the end of Tosafot there), and so explains the Hatam Sofer ad loc. So too implies Riva in Tosafot s.v. “mi lo askinan,” 2b (compare to Rabbenu Tam in Shevuot 5b s.v. “mi lo askinan” and in Tosafot “Yetsiot” cited). However, Riva says *hotza’ah* is not a lesser melakhah only to resolve the phrasing of the opening mishnah in Shabbat—i.e., he speaks after the presence of an explicit verse. It is reasonable that he agrees that logically, *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah.
On 96b, two reasons are given why bringing in (*hachnasah*) is prohibited: by logic (“what difference between taking out and bringing in?”) or because it too occurred in the Mishkan. The Gemara also says it is a *toldah* of *hotza’ah* (the *av*). There are two explanations: (A) whatever occurred in the Mishkan is an *av*; (B) whatever is written in the Torah is an *av*. Tosafot s.v. “i nami” write that only for *hotza’ah* do we require that its *toldot* be written in the Torah—because *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah. Two conclusions follow: (1) the *av* must be explicitly written in the Torah; (2) the *toldah* of a lesser melakhah must have occurred in the Mishkan to be prohibited—unlike ordinary *toldot* (so write other Rishonim).
For our purposes there appear to be three views: (1) R. Hananel and the Yerushalmi: *hotza’ah* is not a lesser melakhah; (2) Riva: *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah, but the verse teaches that it is not; (3) Rabbenu Tam: *hotza’ah* remains a lesser melakhah even after the verse. Several other Rishonim side with him in explaining the opening mishnah in Shabbat.
Why Is *Hotza’ah* a “Lesser Melakhah”?
The Rishonim offer several explanations for why *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah, which fall into two main directions:[10]
- The Or Zaru’a (Shabbat §82) writes: “What labor has he done? … At first there was an object and now there is an object.” Similarly the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol (negative command 65) writes “for it does not appear as a melakhah.” So too implied by Hagahot Mordekhai §455. Likewise in R. Moshe Kazis’s novellae at the beginning of Shabbat, s.v. “u’bedavar ha’hotza’ah,” who writes: “All the melakhot leave an imprint on the object upon which the melakhah is done, and it is changed from what it was beforehand.”
- Several Rishonim hold *hotza’ah* to be a lesser melakhah because its parameters are illogical or inconsistent (see Ramban beginning of Shabbat and beginning of Shevuot; Rashba; Tosafot ha-Rosh; the work attributed to Ran at the beginning of Shabbat; and others). There are several formulations in this group: how can it be that a light load is prohibited (from private to public domain) while a heavy load is permitted (within one domain)? Some tie this to distinctions between domains—what difference does it make if one carries to the public domain, the private domain, or within the same domain? Some note that, unlike other melakhot, place has no effect on the prohibition.
For the Rishonim in group A it is clear that the criterion of importance is creativity. Therefore a melakhah like *hotza’ah*, which produces nothing in the object (does not change it), is a lesser melakhah.[11] By contrast, for the Rishonim in group B, it is not troubling that *hotza’ah* produces nothing, and that no change ensues in the object. In this they align with the view that *hotza’ah* is not a lesser melakhah. Not coincidentally, some in this camp invoke the weight of the load—something generally irrelevant to Shabbat prohibitions (for we commonly think the prohibition is to create, not to labor strenuously).[12] Thus, this dispute perhaps reflects, once again, the Rashi vs. Rid debate above: whether Shabbat’s melakhot are all expressions of creativity, or creativity is not the primary parameter here.
Framing the Dispute: Is the Shabbat Prohibition a Matter of Object (*hefza*) or Person (*gavra*)?
Some Aharonim (see, e.g., Mi-Tal on *hotza’ah*) propose tying this debate to whether Shabbat prohibitions are in the *hefza* or the *gavra*. The Aharonim dispute the basis of the prohibition of instructing a non-Jew (*amira le-nokhri*, a rabbinic prohibition): is it because of agency or not? Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav (O.C. 243:1; 253:29) writes that instructing a non-Jew is prohibited because the non-Jew acts as one’s agent (and a non-Jew can be an agent for stringency, as Tosafot say in *Eizehu Neshekh*). This is rooted in Rashi at the start of *Mi she-hekhshikh*. Conversely, the Hatam Sofer (O.C. responsum 84; C.M. responsum 185) and the Beit Meir (E.H. §5) challenge Rashi and write that agency does not apply to Shabbat because they are prohibitions “on one’s person” (*issurim she-begufo*—the person must rest on Shabbat),[13] and for such things there is no agency.
If Shabbat’s prohibition of melakhah targets the *hefza*—i.e., forbids changing reality (or altering objects)—then it is clear why *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah: there is no change in the object. But if the prohibition targets the *gavra*, then *hotza’ah* is a melakhah like any other; and even if one wishes to call it “lesser,” that would be only because of internal inconsistencies in its parameters, not because of a lack of creativity. Indeed, Shulhan Arukh ha-Rav (O.C. 301:1) explains “lesser melakhah” as do the Or Zaru’a and SeMaG, not like Ramban and his camp.
Yet this linkage seems weak, for it is clear that the melakhot (all of them, not only *hotza’ah*) are about creativity, not toil. The *gavra/*hefza* question can be asked regardless: is the duty that the person (the Jew) not create, or that no creation emerge from him? But by all accounts the prohibition concerns change to the *hefza*. Moreover, it is obvious that the outcome, as such, is not prohibited; otherwise we would expect that a non-Jew too may not perform melakhah on Shabbat, or at least that instructing a non-Jew would be biblically prohibited. Clearly, what is at issue is a Jew who effects a change in the world.
It is more reasonable, therefore, to link the debate to Rashi vs. the Rid as above: if there is a single foundation to the melakhot, it is creativity. On that view, *hotza’ah* is clearly a lesser melakhah. But if each melakhah is a separate prohibition and the Mishkan is the basis for prohibition (as per R. Hananel above), then creativity is not the determinant; *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah only because of the ambiguity and inconsistency of its parameters (and for R. Hananel himself it may not be lesser at all, as noted).
Is *Hotza’ah* Really Essentially Different from the Other Melakhot?
Even if *hotza’ah* is a lesser melakhah, we still must understand why the Torah forbids it nonetheless. I have explained more than once (see, e.g., here) that even a scriptural decree (*gezerat hakatuv*) should have an explanation and rationale. Some have seen *hotza’ah* as an attempt to keep a person in his place (“Let no man go out from his place on the seventh day”). But then why should *hachnasah* (bringing in) be prohibited (if anything, we should require everyone to perform *hachnasah* on Shabbat)? And why does logic say there is no distinction between bringing in and taking out? Beyond that, we should be keeping the person in his place, not forbidding the removal of objects (that would be the province of the prohibition of *techumin*). Yet, upon further reflection, one can reopen the assumption that *hotza’ah* is different from the other melakhot (whether or not it is “lesser” because of this).
There is a fundamental asymmetry between God’s creation and human creation. He creates things ex nihilo; we always act *ex materia*—something from something. A human being cannot create, only form. Now note that our *yesh mi-yesh* activity is always merely moving things from place to place. Even changes we produce in the world or in an object (as in most melakhot) are nothing but moving things from place to place, after which the laws of nature produce the substantive change in the object. A carpenter moves parts of the wood aside, then places nails to join them. A builder gathers components to form a structure. Even cloning or IVF—regarded as the pinnacle of human intervention in God’s work—amounts to placing things in their proper place and enabling nature to act. We place the seed where it can be fruitful and multiply, and the result happens on its own. If we pay attention, we will see that all our actions in the world are nothing but moving and placing things “in the right place.” Our creativity lies in thinking where and when to put things, and which things—but our role ends there, and nature does the rest.
It follows that this is the situation with the Shabbat melakhot as well. Consider *me’amer* (gathering), mentioned above: collecting scattered produce into a basket. What we do here is merely moving and repositioning, from which a cluster or collection arises that is ready for use. Here there is not even a real change in the object; the change of place is itself the result. But so it is with the other melakhot. This is most evident in sowing and cooking. In cooking we place the pot on the fire, and then the dish cooks. In sowing, the person places the seed in the ground and brings it water, and then it grows.[14] In these two we merely place something somewhere; the same is true of writing (placing ink on paper) or erasing (removing it)—or bringing an eraser that removes it. Slaughtering is passing a knife over an animal’s neck; tanning is bringing substances that act upon the hide, and so on. I doubt there is any action in the world—or melakhah on Shabbat—that, from our side, is anything more than relocation and placement.
From this vantage point, all our melakhot are “lesser.” Our doing in the world is always moving what already exists. When is it not lesser? When, after the move, we have placed things where nature performs a non-trivial action upon them. When there is no such result, the act is lesser. Thus, the difference between a lesser and a non-lesser melakhah is simply where we placed the object and, consequently, what nature did to it.
Midrash Tanhuma (Tazria) expresses precisely this principle:
“Turnus Rufus the wicked asked R. Akiva: Whose deeds are more beautiful—those of the Holy One, blessed be He, or those of flesh and blood? He said to him: Those of flesh and blood are more beautiful. He said: Behold the heavens and the earth—can you make the like of them? He said: Do not answer me regarding what is above creatures and beyond their control; speak of things found among humans. He said to him: Why do you circumcise? He said: I knew you would say this, therefore I said to you in advance that the deeds of flesh and blood are more beautiful than those of the Holy One, blessed be He. Bring me ears of grain and cakes. [He said: These are the deeds of the Holy One, blessed be He, and these are the deeds of flesh and blood; are not these more beautiful? Bring me] flax stalks and garments from Beit She’an. He said: These are the deeds of the Holy One, blessed be He, and these are the deeds of flesh and blood; are not these more beautiful? He said to him: If God desires circumcision, why does a child not emerge circumcised from the womb? He said: And why does he emerge with a navel-cord—let his mother not cut his cord! Why does he not emerge circumcised? Because the Holy One, blessed be He, gave Israel the commandments only in order to refine them; as David said (Ps. 18:31), ‘The word of the Lord is refined,’ etc.”
Indeed, our handiwork is “more beautiful,” yet note that we are only “moving the cheese.” The laws of nature are the acts of the Holy One, blessed be He, and without them even our deeds would be meaningless.
A similar idea appears on the verse “Who has preceded Me that I should pay?” (Vayikra Rabbah, Emor 27):
“‘Who has preceded Me that I should pay?’ (Job 41:3). R. Tanhuma interpreted the verse regarding an unmarried man who lives in a town and pays the wages of scribes and teachers. The Holy One, blessed be He, says: It is upon Me to pay his reward and give him a son, as it says, ‘and He will pay him his recompense’ (Prov. 19:17). R. Yirmiyah b. Elazar said: In the future a heavenly voice will thunder from the mountaintops and say, ‘Who has acted with God? Whoever has acted with God, let him come and take his reward,’ as it says, ‘At this time it shall be said to Jacob and to Israel what God has wrought’ (Num. 23:23)—now let him come and take his reward. And the Holy Spirit says, ‘Who has preceded Me that I should pay?’ Who praised Me before I gave him a soul? Who circumcised for My name before I gave him a son? Who made Me a parapet before I gave him a roof? Who made Me a mezuzah before I gave him a house? Who made Me a sukkah before I gave him a place? Who took a lulav before I gave him money? Who made Me tzitzit before I gave him a garment? Who set aside pe’ah before I gave him a field? Who set aside terumah and ma’aser before I gave him a threshing floor? Who separated challah before I gave him dough? Who brought before Me a sacrifice before I gave him an animal—an ox, or a sheep, or a goat?’”
God’s acts always precede human acts. A person can only operate what God has already made—that is, move things to a chosen place deliberately, and then let nature act and change something in the thing itself.
*Melechet Machshevet*: The Duty of Resting on Shabbat
This is what Hazal call *melechet machshevet*—the definition they give the Shabbat prohibition. I noted that the expression appears with respect to the Mishkan’s work. *Melechet machshevet* is labor grounded in prior planning, whereby a person brings his plan (his “thought”) to fruition. Therefore unplanned acts (like unintended outcomes,[15] or labor not needed for its primary purpose), destructive acts, etc., one is exempt. This is a leniency, but there are also stringencies. For example, if one acts by indirect causation (*grama*), throughout the Torah one is exempt, but on Shabbat one is liable, because after all there was a plan that was executed through the person’s act—even if it was done indirectly and not literally by his hands (see Rashi, Bava Kamma 60a).[16] For our purposes, *melechet machshevet* is implementing a person’s plan, even if indirectly (with the help of wind, etc.).
In light of what I described, we can now understand that every one of our actions is, at most, *melechet machshevet* in this sense. Some actions generate their outcomes via *grama*, like cooking, where we cause the cooking; or sowing, where we cause the growth; and so on. Sometimes the outcome is immediate (as in writing or erasing), yet even then the results are produced by our actions. Our action is always relocation; afterwards nature (or the wind) creates the change in the object itself.
Resting on Shabbat commemorates Creation. God rested from the creation that occurred over the six days, but a human cannot create—only form (*yesh mi-yesh*)—and that is what we do over six days. Therefore, even on Shabbat we are not meant to rest from creation, but from formation. In our terms: we are to refrain from significant relocations of things. For human beings, *melechet machshevet* is deliberate relocation—yet still relocation. A “lesser melakhah” is a relocation that yields no further consequences in the object beyond a change of location.
Back to *Hotza’ah*
Given all this, it is fitting to explain that *hotza’ah* comes to remind us that what we actually do is merely move things from place to place. Even when we fashion our most wondrous “creations,” the creation is in the *gavra* (the idea, the thought), but in the *hefza* we only move. Therefore, *hotza’ah* too is defined as a melakhah—to remind us that even during the six weekdays we do not create like God; we only move. If in all the melakhot we may feel we resemble the Creator and effect grand changes in the world as He did, *hotza’ah* comes to say that in truth we are only moving.
In *hotza’ah* there is a relocation that has no effect in the object, and in that sense perhaps it is a lesser melakhah as to result. But in the essential sense—in terms of the character of human action—*hotza’ah* is the most typical melakhah, for it reflects the added value we contribute in all melakhot and all our worldly actions. Here *gavra* and *hefza* converge. If all melakhot are about the *hefza* (change in the world or in the object), *hotza’ah* reflects to us that in the other melakhot as well, our contribution (*gavra*) is only relocation. The other melakhot are prohibited even within a private domain, because there the novelty is in the object itself—relocation along a non-geographical axis. Pure relocation is prohibited only on Shabbat.
The requirement that *hotza’ah* be specifically from private to public domain or vice versa serves to define a significant relocation (otherwise every movement on Shabbat would be forbidden). Therefore, we require moving from a place of one character to a place of a different character; and from “Let no man go out from his place” we learn that the two domains which are essentially different are the private and the public. (As Tosafot note, it is unclear why carrying from one private domain to another was not prohibited; apparently in that case the consequence of the person’s act—the change—is insufficiently significant.)
This may also be why Tractate Shabbat opens with *hotza’ah*. Some Aharonim cite the Maharal that the beginning of each tractate addresses the most typical law of that tractate. In light of our discussion it is clear why *hotza’ah* was chosen—especially given that it is a lesser melakhah—for it is the archetype of all Shabbat melakhot. Intriguingly, the very “lesser-ness” of *hotza’ah* (the absence of a change in the object, only its relocation) is what makes it the prototype of the melakhot. It reveals something easily missed about all our worldly activity and, by extension, about all the Shabbat melakhot. This may also explain why on Yom Tov—which does not commemorate Creation—*hotza’ah* was not prohibited.
Above we saw a three-way dispute among the Rishonim: whether *hotza’ah* is not a lesser melakhah at all; whether the verse prohibiting it on Shabbat innovates that it is not lesser; or whether the verse innovates that although it is lesser, it is still prohibited. We can now appreciate all three. From a philosophical vantage, *hotza’ah* is not lesser at all. In terms of the human act (*gavra*), there is no difference between it and other melakhot, for in all of them the person only moves things from place to place. It may be that this is precisely what the verse innovates—teaching us this very foundation (hence some Rishonim write that only after the verse is it not lesser). Yet in practice this relocation yields no effect in the world, so one could say that even after the verse it remains a lesser melakhah. The underlying question is whether we look at the outcome in the world or at the person’s contribution to that outcome.
Entropy
This description recalls the physical concept of entropy—a mathematical measure of a system’s order. *Hotza’ah* is a change that alters the world’s entropy—that is, it creates a new order in reality. To take an object from one place and put it in another is to change the world’s order. From this viewpoint, *hotza’ah* certainly effects a change in reality, but not in the object—rather, in the world. Looking at the world, it is different, even though no individual object has changed.[17]
For the mathematically inclined: we can define the world’s order via a state vector whose entries are locations in the world, and at each location there sits some object (or it is empty). Consider, for example, the vector (A, 0, B, C, 0, A), describing object A at position 1, position 2 empty, object B at position 3, and so on. Now move object A from position 6 to position 1. We obtain a new state vector: (2A, 0, B, C, 0, 0). The two states differ in entropy (order), and physicists can compute the entropy of each such state,[18] i.e., quantify the degree of order in each. Imagine moving object A from position 6 to position 5. In that case the entropy would not change, for we would have produced a very similar state vector (merely swapping the names/roles of positions 6 and 5). That is not a significant change. For this reason, *hotza’ah* qualifies as melakhah only when performed between domains that are dissimilar (private vs. public), like in the first example (from 6 to 1). Moving objects between similar domains is essentially what we did in the second example (from 6 to 5).
To sharpen this entropy framing: the second law of thermodynamics says you cannot increase order without a guiding hand. A random process does not increase order (it either preserves or reduces it). When a guiding hand—divine or human—is involved, order can increase; that is creation. In this language, creation is a decrease of entropy (imposing order). An object at position 6 that I place at a qualitatively different position, say 1, if this produces better order (more aligned with my plan—*melechet machshevet*)—that is melakhah. We imitate God’s six-day work, and on Shabbat we rest, like Him, from changing entropy. In this sense, *hotza’ah* is the prototype of creating order; therefore, despite being “lesser,” it is the most typical melakhah of Shabbat prohibitions. As we saw, every formation in an object is in truth merely a change of the locations of things—a change of entropy—and *hotza’ah* is simply the most distilled expression of that.
Conclusion
*Hotza’ah* teaches that our actions—which are mere relocations—derive their meaning only because God created nature in the six days of Creation. Nature, created by God, is what turns our relocations into changes in the world. God rested on the seventh day and saw that all He had made was very good. When we rest from *hotza’ah* and from melakhot generally, we suddenly grasp that all our actions have meaning (they are “very good”) only thanks to the six days of Creation. Without God’s acts (nature), our relocations would effect nothing. Without nature created in the six days, all our melakhot would be one big, empty *hotza’ah*—a “lesser melakhah.”
Therefore we must not be misled by R. Akiva’s retort to Turnus Rufus in the midrash cited above. Our deeds may be finer than God’s, but in the end they are only relocations. They have such beautiful results only because of God’s acts (the laws of nature) and thanks to them. Hence the second midrash I quoted: “Who has preceded Me that I should pay?!” Indeed, payment is due; our toil has reward—but only by virtue of Him. In this sense, resting from melakhah—and especially from *hotza’ah*—is the most prominent and definitive commemoration of Creation and of its meaning for us.
On further thought, this seems the meaning of the verse “For it is He who gives you strength to achieve success,” as Derashot ha-Ran writes at the beginning of the tenth discourse:
“Above this it says (Deut. 8:12–18): ‘Lest you eat and be satisfied, and build good houses and live in them, and your cattle and sheep increase… and you say in your heart, “My strength and the might of my hand made me this wealth.”’ And [Scripture] says: ‘You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is He who gives you strength to make wealth.’ He means: It is true that individuals have particular dispositions toward certain things, as some are apt to receive wisdom and others are apt to set plans within themselves to amass and gather. In this sense it is true, to a degree, that a wealthy man might say, ‘My strength and the might of my hand made me this wealth.’ Nevertheless, though that power is indeed planted within you, remember from whom that power came and whence it arrived. That is [the meaning of] ‘You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is He who gives you strength to make wealth.’ He did not say, ‘Remember that the Lord your God gives you wealth,’ for then he would deny that the power planted in man is an intermediate cause in the acquisition of fortune; and that is not the case. Therefore it says that though your power makes this wealth, remember the One who gave you that power, blessed be He.”
The detached “mashgiah-style” slogans on which we were raised learn from this verse that we do nothing and everything comes from Heaven (cf. the supervisors’ rebukes about “my strength and the might of my hand”). But that is not the plain meaning. The verse says the opposite: we are the ones who make the wealth—only it is by virtue of the strength He gives us. From my discussion here a further reading of the Ran’s words emerges. God gives us the strength to achieve—not (only) in some mystical sense (that He animates each of us at every moment, another *vort* of the “mashgihim”)—but in that every action of ours gains meaning and bears fruit only by virtue of the laws of nature He created. Without those laws, all our actions would be random relocations from here to there and nothing more.
In my article on ontic gratitude as a basis for serving God, I argued that every creature has an (ontic, not necessarily moral) obligation to the One who created it. This is likely what the verse in Ha’azinu says: “Do you thus repay the Lord, O foolish and unwise people? Is He not your Father, your Maker, who made you and established you?” Our obligation to God is grounded both in His sustaining us and in His making us. There is moral gratitude (to one who has benefitted us) and ontic gratitude (to one who made us). In light of what I have said here, this gains added meaning: every act of ours gains significance by His power. Without Him, at best we could engage in empty relocations from place to place and nothing more. That is, it is not only that He made us and sustains us; every act of ours can have meaning only by virtue of Him. This surely constitutes a significant basis for our mandatory obligation toward Him.
This proposal sheds interesting light on *hotza’ah*, on the melakhot as a whole, and on our activity in the world generally—and no less on the relationship between our deeds, God, and nature, and on our obligation to Him. I hope and believe there is something here beyond mere homiletics (Heaven forfend).
[1] See Tosafot here, and Maharsha and Maharam there, as well as the introduction of the author of Tiferet Yisrael to the Mishnah, Tractate Shabbat, titled “Kalkalat Shabbat.” There he also discusses what “importance” means—uniqueness or significant creativity—and what determines the similarity between *av* and *toldah*—the purpose and end of the act or the form of its performance. I will note more on this below.
[2] Three further practical differences between *av* and *toldah* have been suggested:
- Combining measures (see Mahar”i Katz in Shitah Mekubetzet to Bava Kamma ad loc., s.v. “heishah Mahar”r Yechiel,” and the novellae of R. Shmuel there).
- An *av* has a *toldah*, while a *toldah* perhaps does not (at least per R. Hananel at the start of ch. 7, who writes there is no *toldah* of a *toldah*).
- Some write that for labor not needed for its primary purpose (*melakhah she-eina tzrikhah le-gufah*), in a *toldah* one is exempt even according to R. Yehudah.
[3] Some have sought to learn that *toldot* in general are an independent prohibition, since there is a separate source that teaches the *toldot* as a class (“*hineh me-henna*,” see Shabbat 70b and parallels). See also note 5 below.
[4] So some Aharonim understand him. One must still consider why fat and blood, too, would be so understood according to him, since there it is clear these are two distinct prohibitions.
[5] The work Tots’ot Chayim, §§5–6, ties the dispute between the Rid and Rashi to the source for distinguishing melakhot: if the source is “kindling was singled out to divide,” then each *av melakhah* is an independent prohibition like kindling; but if the source is “those who desecrate it shall surely die” (see Shabbat 70a)—which multiplies many deaths for one desecration—then all melakhot constitute one *av*, merely “distinct bodies.”
[6] See my article cited above for the exceptional case in the Yerushalmi per R. Menashe of Ilya regarding spitting in the public domain (and even that is not a *tzad hashaveh* derivation but what I called “conceptual construction”).
[7] This depends on how one understands the *tzad hashaveh* inference: is it truly a search for a shared common element of the two teachers, or is one teacher primary and the other merely removes refutations? (See the dispute between Rosh and “the Gedolim,” Bava Kamma 6a, and my article in Meisharim II.) I’ll address this in a forthcoming column.
[8] Indeed, Rashi at the start of Bava Kamma writes, in the view of the Sages, that when one is liable to only one sin-offering for an *av* and its *toldah*, that offering is for the *av*. So implies the reading in Shitah Mekubetzet on the Gemara: “For the *av* he is liable; for the *toldah* he is not.” And in Porat Yosef there he brings that according to Rashi, if he brought a sin-offering for the *toldah*, it is unconsecrated meat in the Temple courtyard; and Tiferet Shmuel writes a practical difference if he forgot to bring for the *av* and brought for the *toldah*, and later remembered—he must bring again for the *av*.
According to Rashi, the Gemara’s phrasing fits better, since it was seeking a practical difference between *av* and *toldah*; if we explain that the offering is brought for both, we still don’t know what the difference is between them (we would know only the difference of a *toldah* vis-à-vis its *av*, but not the difference between them). The Rid (cited in Shitah Mekubetzet at the beginning of Bava Kamma, s.v. “nafa mina d’i avid”) challenges the Gemara with this very question and writes that indeed there is no difference between *av* and *toldah* (there is another difference detailed later in the sugya; this is not the place). Thus, for the Rid the Mishkan determines who is *av* and who is *toldah* (as we saw above in his view); hence there is no difference between them. For Rashi, importance determines, hence there is a difference. Each follows his own approach.
[9] Note that R. Hananel (97a, printed at the start of *Perek ha-Zorek*) only proves that *hotza’ah* is a melakhah and that it occurred in the Mishkan. He interprets that it was on a weekday and does not include the passage in the Gemara that proves it was on Shabbat. Evidently he follows his approach that everything depends on the Mishkan (as a cause, not a sign), so it suffices to prove that *hotza’ah* took place in the Mishkan; its “importance” is irrelevant. So too in the Yerushalmi (cited by R. Hananel 3b): “Whence do we know that *hotza’ah* is called melakhah? For it is written, ‘And Moses commanded and they caused it to pass throughout the camp.’” That is, they seek only proof that it is called melakhah, not that it is forbidden (and the source is from what Moses then said to the people: ‘Let no man make any more melakhah’). See also Tosafot s.v. “u-mimai” (96b) for R. Hananel and the Yerushalmi.
Thus, according to R. Hananel, *hotza’ah* is not a lesser melakhah, for there is no such notion as “lesser”: the determinant of importance plays no role in the definition of melakhot per R. Hananel.
[10] Me’iri on Shabbat 2a cites both approaches; see there.
[11] One can debate other *avot* that do not produce something in the object, like *me’amer* (gathering fruit into one basket). Yet in *me’amer* there is a creative aspect: gathering produce in the field. Accumulating the yield into the basket turns it from plant or field growth into merchandise—i.e., a commodity ready for human use.
[12] The poskim cite several halakhic consequences of *hotza’ah* being a lesser melakhah. I will bring four:
- Hayyei Adam (Shabbat, general rule 9 §11) writes that the prohibition of benefiting from a melakhah done on Shabbat applies only where the object itself underwent change (as in cooking). Therefore, for *hotza’ah* there is no such prohibition; thus, if one carried on Shabbat inadvertently, it is permitted even to the carrier himself immediately (while for intentional violation it is forbidden until Saturday night). See his source in Nishmat Adam ad loc.
- In responsa Beit Yitzhak (O.C. §34) there is doubt about the status of destructive *hotza’ah*. He proves from Shabbat 91a (throwing an olive’s volume of terumah into a defiled house) that a “destructive” *hotza’ah* is liable, and explains that since in *hotza’ah* there is no repair to the object, the exemption of “destructive act” does not apply (for that exemption is grounded in the absence of repair in the object).
- Pri Megadim, introduction to Hilkhot Shabbat (cited in Afikei Yam II §4, end of branch 8), doubts whether the rule that, for partial measures, the first half must still exist in the world to obligate—applies only to *hotza’ah*, because it is a lesser melakhah. It seems one cannot say such things if the rationale for “lesser” is that there is no repair to the object, for that rationale would actually lead us to waive the requirement that the first half still exist. Thus, the Pri Megadim reflects a view that *hotza’ah* is lesser because its parameters are puzzling—hence it is harder to impose liability.
- Penei Yehoshua (Shabbat 51b) brings another (non-halakhic) consequence of *hotza’ah* being lesser: he writes that the Torah did not prohibit resting one’s animal from *hotza’ah*.
“For *hotza’ah* to the public domain, even for a person, is a lesser melakhah and would not be included in ‘You shall not do any work’ were it not derived independently… Therefore it seems this has no place regarding an animal from the Torah, only rabbinically.”
After it has been derived, though, it may well be considered a melakhah (and be prohibited on Yom Tov as well).
[13] Indeed, Beit Yosef cites SeMaG, who brings a Mekhilta that prohibits *amira le-nokhri* from the verse “No melakhah shall be done,” which implies that the prohibition is in the *hefza*—i.e., it is forbidden that the melakhah be done, not specifically that a Jew do it (of course, if so one must explain why a non-Jew has no Shabbat prohibition). But for nearly all authorities that Mekhilta is merely an *asmakhta*.
[14] Note that in these two melakhot a question arises about acts on Shabbat that complete only in the weekday that follows, or the reverse (since the person’s action has already ended). But in light of what I argue here, one could raise similar questions for all melakhot.
[15] While unintended outcomes are permitted throughout the Torah and not just in Shabbat, R. Hayyim of Brisk (on Rambam, Hilkhot Shabbat 10:17) already noted that on Shabbat there is a special law flowing from *melechet machshevet*.
[16] Many Aharonim already noted that Rosh there disagrees with Rashi; in his view, *grama* is exempt even on Shabbat, and there it is a special rule of *zoreh* (winnowing).
[17] In different terms, perhaps the prohibition is to alter the public domain (to subtract from or add to it), for only the public domain is a state of the world; private domains are states of particular people and are irrelevant here. This is a different focus for *hotza’ah*.
[18] One counts how many equivalent microstates correspond to each such macrostate. The more equivalent microstates, the lower the order. For example, in the case above, when object A moved from position 6 to 1, the entropy is higher (the order is lower).
Discussion
The first chapter, in order. But that’s with the women (the doctoral students).
And the idea is excellent and makes sense.
It does indeed have the look of a derashah, but that’s true of many sensible explanations, and so the explainer adds and piles on material so it will look more…
Thank you for these enlightening remarks, Rabbi Michi. I am attaching here a link to an article I wrote about melekhet maḥshevet, at the end of which I discuss the significance of defining melakhah for contemporary actions. I would be glad to hear your opinion of what I wrote.
https://heb.hartman.org.il/defining-melakhah-on-the-sabbath/
See, for the Lord has given you the Sabbath; therefore on the sixth day He gives you bread for two days. Let each man remain where he is; let no man go out from his place on the seventh day.
For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day.
Regarding carrying and changing things: in the creation of the world there were things that God merely arranged in their place without effecting any change in them.
An illuminating article. I only wish I had encountered it at the beginning of tractate Eruvin (Daf Yomi), which we are just about to finish. Part of the great difficulty in making my way through the tractate was a certain discomfort, and a basic lack of understanding of the whole enterprise, which your article answers. Is this the plain meaning of the matter, or a derashah? I am still undecided about that. But the brilliant formulation you offer here does settle the mind, so thank you.
The aggadah about Rabbi Akiva and Turnus Rufus reminds me of an excellent article by Ido Hevroni on this very subject; I highly recommend reading it for several reasons. It also offers a certain complement to what you say here, regarding man’s action in nature.
http://tchelet.org.il/article.php?id=424
Hello Rabbi Ariel, and thank you for the reference.
I read it quickly (for reasons that will immediately become clear), and I will make only two general comments that are connected to one another: 1. The Aḥad Ha’am-type point of departure is not acceptable to me. In my view there is no value to a secular interpretation of Shabbat (that is, one not committed to halakhah). I could offer another hundred such interpretations, and I see no religious value in them. One may of course discuss national or other value. 2. This interpretation ignores the halakhic tradition and Hazal (except for a few sources selected tendentiously when they suit your purposes), and in some cases goes against it. For example, if the labors were a description of fundamental human activities and were not taken from the Mishkan, one must explain why winnowing, selecting, and sifting are three distinct primary categories (the Gemara explains this via the Mishkan). Beyond that, as the Kalkalat Shabbat explained, the similarity among labors is not always in the purpose (see winnowing, selecting, and sifting).
In general, for these reasons I do not engage in the Bible and its interpretation. Interpretations of Scripture by their nature try to push our needs and our own meanings into it, and do not necessarily examine what is really there. As a thought experiment: if you were to discover that you have no up-to-date and contemporary-relevant interpretation of Shabbat in Scripture (for secular people), would you retract? Would Shabbat lose its meaning for you or for them? If so, then that means that in any case they are doing what they want and not what halakhah or Scripture requires of them. So what is the point of this whole game? Let them do what seems reasonable and sensible to them—but what does that have to do with Judaism? Is the reasoning of Jews supposed to be built differently from that of gentiles?
Again, this does not mean that relevant interpretations of Scripture are impossible, nor that there is any flaw in the specific interpretation you proposed. It simply calls into question the value of the entire project. And of course, as I wrote, this is not Judaism in any essential sense, for any gentile can accept or reject what you say exactly like the secular Jew can (and in truth there is no principled difference between them, apart from some sentiment, language, and eating falafel—matters I consider valueless. I addressed this in the series of columns on Jewish identity (336–9). True, they are based on the Bible, but many gentiles do that too.
Thank you.
I would only note that art as mimesis is already obsolete. That belongs to Renaissance art. And of course the conception of Western culture over the past hundred years has long since abandoned Turnus Rufus and wholly adopted Rabbi Akiva. Some would say in too extreme a form, and now some Rabbi Akiva needs to come and acknowledge Turnus Rufus a bit.
Indeed, the pendulum swing of ideas in the world keeps swaying…
Thank you, R. Michi. I read your columns on identity, and indeed we differ on the cultural issue. Actually, I wanted you to read what I wrote about melekhet maḥshevet—mainly at the end of the article. It seems to me that I am proposing talmudic-halakhic thinking, not “Aḥad Ha’amism,” for defining melakhah.
I definitely agree with the definitions there at the end, but it seems to me that this is more or less the accepted definition of melakhah on Shabbat (although, as I noted here, this is probably disputed among the Rishonim).
What I wrote regarding Aḥad Ha’amism concerns the motivation and point of departure of the article, not the halakhic definitions of course.
Thanks again,
Do you have any suggestion as to why, really, the labors are derived from the Mishkan (if that is indeed so—apparently in the Yerushalmi the understanding is different, and in the Bavli it still requires investigation)?
There is a verbal analogy in the Torah. Are you asking about the explanatory connection between them? It is commonly thought that the Mishkan is the model for melekhet maḥshevet, a kind of miniature reflection of the world.
What is so striking in your excellent column is the gradual transition from lomdut to thought, in the clearest possible way. To begin with lomdut and end with Pahad Yitzhak. More power to you.
An excellent article.
Thank you again. Forgive me if I trouble you again about my article. Would you agree with my conclusion that using an elevator, or operating an electric shutter or a fan, is not melekhet maḥshevet because the result is not creative production and can be done without electricity, and the use of electricity is consumption rather than labor (as R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach held)?
• It is worth noting that in the Mishnah the primary categories of labor were listed with respect to the law of distinct liabilities for different labors. We would have expected the presentation to be much more independent and central.
• To ask whether there are other labors that are “inferior labors,” the ultimate example is trapping.
Your reasoning in itself is very plausible, and in my opinion is agreed to by the overwhelming majority of decisors (who prohibit it only rabbinically). But I actually tend toward the view of the Hazon Ish, that this involves building. The explanation for this is rather complex, and for some reason I can’t currently find the place where I explained it on the site (I remember there was one). It is in my audio lecture here: https://soundcloud.com/mikyabchannel/mu38nc3axt6f
Trapping is like gathering into sheaves. It seems to me that gathering into sheaves is even “worse” (collecting inanimate things is more banal).
I listened to the lecture; more power to you. Indeed, the exchange between the Hazon Ish and R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach is fascinating, because they truly reach philosophical heights. R. Shlomo Zalman, in the end, seeks to relate also to ordinary human language as defining phenomena. You said in the lecture that a fan that is not operating is a collection of parts, and only when connected to electricity does it become a system. I understand the reasoning, but if we pay attention to the way people speak, they certainly distinguish between a building as a system and a heap of stones. But when they see a fan not connected to electricity, they will say: this is a fan; this is a system that is currently not working and needs to be connected to electricity. No one will say that connecting it to electricity creates the entity called a fan; rather, as R. Shlomo Zalman wrote, this is the way one uses a fan. Exactly like using a water channel to drive a wheel (that is R. Shlomo Zalman’s example, if I am not mistaken): there is a system, and only the flow of water is missing. The question of where this becomes so is a question of human consciousness. It seems to me that in the laws of Shabbat, because of the principle of melekhet maḥshevet, human consciousness as expressed in language is of great importance. This raises modern questions connected with operating devices by your very presence, volume sensors, and the like—and not under the law of an unintended act. In a “smart” home where everything turns on and off according to volume sensors, we will completely forget our effect on the system, even though it is a psik reisha. That is also how I understand R. Shlomo Zalman’s comments about opening and closing a refrigerator on Shabbat. Keep up the good work.
More power to you for your diligence (listening to the lecture and continuing the discussion).
It is clear to me that this is R. Shlomo Zalman’s reasoning, and it has real substance. And yet I incline to the view of the Hazon Ish. There are two meanings to the term “fan”: 1. A utensil that has the potential to ventilate (that is intended for this). 2. A utensil that ventilates (actually). When people say “fan” they mean sense 1, but pressing the button creates an object in sense 2.
Think of a hypothetical situation in which we had the ability to blow a spirit into a human corpse. Would you agree that in such a case this would involve building? Even if people called the corpse a human being (in some contexts that is indeed what they call him; see how people speak to him at a funeral). Especially in a situation where we have such technological capability (to blow in spirit), in that case it is even more plausible that the corpse too would be called a human being, because it has the potential to be a human being.
Regarding volume sensors, I completely agree (and so too Shevet HaLevi, as is known). The person does nothing there. In my opinion this is not even “inadvertent involvement”; it is simply not an action of the person at all.
Regarding a smart home, the situation is subtler. I think you would be interested in column 275 that I wrote against Rabbi Ariel’s position on the matter of a smart home. I am undecided what your position there would be. I can suggest, in your name, arguments in my favor and in his favor (but mainly in his favor).
By the way, grama devices of Tzomet (like a mobility scooter, for example) are completely prohibited in my view. Here perhaps you too would agree, since people are not really interested in how the grama circuits inside operate. What one sees is a device that a button press activates.
Perhaps one more comment that I did not sharpen in the previous messages. The criterion you proposed—that the action can be done also without electricity—appears in quite a few decisors with respect to psik reisha (Sha'ar HaMelekh regarding trapping a deer, Or Sameaḥ regarding “he has another hosha'na,” and others), but I do not see its relevance with respect to the definition of a significant melakhah as you propose. For me the focus is not what the device performs, but turning the device itself into an object that can perform things. One can cool oneself without a fan (with a hand fan), but pressing the button turns it into a device that knows how to ventilate. The prohibition is animating the device, not its action toward me. Consider this: if a person were to build a sophisticated nuclear reactor on Shabbat from beginning to end, but the electricity it provides the house can also be produced by a generator—would he not violate a melakhah prohibition? Not in lighting the house, but in building the reactor.
According to the Hazon Ish, would someone who opens a dam for a water-powered flour mill and thereby starts it also violate building? Or someone who opens a door before a lamp in a cave and thereby fans the flame, even for an extended time (or releases the peg in a windmill)? Presumably not. So how is electricity different from all these?
This question was answered in the past. With electricity, the system itself changes, and not merely begins to operate. It “animates” the wires and turns the device itself into something else. That does not happen with water and air.
Hello Rabbi Michi. Regarding a smart home and Rabbi Yaakov Ariel’s words: as you wrote, I think the discussion has to be separated into the question of a melakhah prohibition and the question of the character of Shabbat (this not entirely clear concept), which requires a separate and important discussion. But one must tell the public the truth and discuss matters with the halakhic tools according to their levels. Regarding grama, I completely agree with you. What happens in the innards of a device is not important; what determines things is the person’s voluntary act that brings about a desired result. If that result is genuine creation (light, heat, cooked food, a garment, a house, or an atomic reactor), it is prohibited. If the result is something non-creative (moving air, a shutter that goes up or down, or in the language of the Mekhilta—washing dishes and making the bed), that is not melakhah. In my view, in an electric car there is no creation, only use, and therefore there is no melakhah prohibition there (other issues may be discussed, but not melakhah). Regarding your comparison to building an atomic reactor: the comparison is not sound. Building an atomic reactor is like building a fan (long live the small difference); generating electricity is prohibited because it is creation, even if there is electricity from somewhere else, just as cooking is prohibited even if you already have a cooked dish. The examples I gave mean that the act itself—raising a shutter, ventilation (not air-conditioning), and the like—are themselves not creative, and therefore I do not care how you performed them. The electrical switch that raises the shutter is as though I had a stronger hand, and this is similar to what R. Shlomo Zalman wrote about a hearing aid.
Obviously, and I noted that this is the point of disagreement between us, since I see pressing the switch as activating the device, and the prohibition lies in what this does to the device, not in what the device does for us (the ventilation, or the driving in an electric car). Therefore, the consideration of how significant the action performed by the device is is not important in my opinion. The decisive question, in my view, is what happens to the device itself as a result of the press. That is what I tried to illustrate with the nuclear reactor, because there it is clear that even you would agree that I created something new by setting up the reactor itself, regardless of the question what the reactor contributes to me (I have electricity from a generator).
With God’s help, 1 Kislev 5781
Carrying out is an “inferior labor” because physically it does not change the form of the object, but it does effect an essential change in the object. Previously it was just a plank lying in the back of the house, but after it was moved to the place where the Mishkan was built, the plank became “raw material” for the Mishkan.
We need only reflect on the “Industrial Revolution,” which advanced production by many levels, and whose foundation was the development of means of transport. When raw materials and labor forces can be moved quickly from “the ends of the earth” to the factory, and after production the finished product can be transported throughout the world, the capacity for creation is increased immeasurably.
Even the creation of the people of Israel as bearers of the Torah of God in the world began with “carrying out.” The physical exodus from Egypt also marked a spiritual exodus from enslavement to the culture of Egypt and its conventions, with a willingness to accept the authority of the Creator and His guidance.
On Shabbat we refrain both from physical creation and from the basis of that creation—the ability to transport raw materials to the production process and finished products from the place of production to the place of consumption.
By contrast, in the spiritual sense, we “go out from our private domain” into the “public domain” of synagogues and study halls, and bring back into our “private domain” what we have “processed” in the workshops of the nation’s soul.
With blessing, S.T.
The Industrial Revolution also involved the development of the “labor of kindling,” the steam engine, which made possible both large-scale production and the transport of raw materials, workers, and finished products over immense distances.
I meant trapping in the case of locking a door in front of a deer that entered the house, where you do not do anything to the object.
I understood. And that is what I answered.
Your honor wrote:
“An av has a toldah, and a toldah perhaps does not have one (at least according to Rabbenu Ḥananel at the beginning of chapter six, who wrote that a toldah does not have a toldah).”
— I don’t understand that he wrote this there.
However, this would seem to emerge from what Rabbenu Ḥananel wrote there on 73b:
“It was taught: ‘One who sows, prunes, plants, bends, and grafts—they are all one labor’ … From this we hear that those enumerated in our Mishnah are considered avot, and the others are toldot … We say in the name of Rav: ‘One who prunes is liable משום planting, and one who plants, bends, and grafts is liable משום sowing.’ From this we hear, since he places bending and grafting under planting and also under sowing, that there is a toldah of a toldah. And all of them are included under one av. Planting is an offspring of sowing.”
Indeed. For some reason I remembered it the other way around.
Regarding “in plowing and in harvest you shall rest,” that is the dispute in the Mishnah; according to R. Yishmael it is speaking about Shabbat.
With God’s help, Friday eve of Parashat Ve’eleh Toledot Yitzḥak, 5781
One could say that every human act is “carrying out”—bringing from potential to actual the potential embedded in reality. During the six weekdays we cultivate and realize physical capacities, whereas on Shabbat we cultivate and realize spiritual potential.
If physical activity is “uprooting,” changing reality from its initial state, then in Shabbat rest we perform “placing down,” bringing reality to its aim and purpose.
With blessings for a good Shabbat, Fishel Gurion
According to what you said about entropy, this could explain the prohibition of one’s animal resting, since animals too can increase order in the world, like ants that build a nest or beavers that build a dam.
But according to that, carrying done by a gentile should also be prohibited. It is clear that one cannot ignore the gavra, who is supposed to be a Jew: we are speaking of changing entropy by a Jew.
With God’s help, 9 Kislev 5781
From the parameters of the labor of “carrying” one may learn a chapter in the “laws of revolution.” Melekhet maḥshevet begins with “uprooting” from a previous state. But the labor is not completed unless there is “placing down,” bringing the motion to its end by creating a new “stability”—“uprooting” requires “placing down.”
With blessing, Sh.Tz.L. [= change needs stabilizing]
Hello Rabbi,
Can you continue this with Yom Tov?
Why was carrying permitted on Yom Tov?
(and of course, what is the basis for the distinction between Shabbat and Yom Tov?)
I explained it in the body of the column. Yom Tov is not a remembrance of the act of creation.
With God’s help, 23 Kislev 5781
From the standpoint of the parameters of “melakhah,” carrying should have been prohibited on Yom Tov, but “since it was permitted for a need, it was also permitted when not for a need.” According to many of the Rishonim, carrying was permitted only “for some slight need,” and even according to those who hold that biblically it was permitted even when not for any need at all, still it is at any rate biblically prohibited to carry for the sake of tomorrow or for the sake of a gentile. So in essence, according to everyone, carrying was not completely permitted on Yom Tov.
With blessing, Yaron Tzemach Fishel-Plankton Halevi
Hello Rabbi, although some time has already passed, still—
This is an excerpt from Beit Yishai (sec. 17):
“Let us preface with the words of Ralbag on Parashat Yitro (cited in Shevitat HaShabbat, labor of threshing), who wrote that any act that even animals do
is not considered melakhah on Shabbat. At first glance his words seem baseless, for many labors are done by animals, such as trapping and taking life,
grinding and extracting, kneading, and the like.
It seems that his words should be corrected as follows: all those biblical labors we mentioned were followed, in the labor of the Mishkan, by labors
specific to human beings, and for that reason they too were considered labors, since they are no longer comparable to the act of the animal—for the animal, after this act, eats immediately, whereas here this is only preparation for the subsequent acts, which are acts unique to human beings.”
—
First, it seems to me that this could fit quite well with what you wrote here, since the dimension of creation pertains only to man.
And on the substance of the matter, what do you say about it? Shevitat Shabbat (Melekhet Dash, sec. 99) discusses very interesting things along these lines, in my humble opinion (in the end he remains with many doubts, and awaited someone whose knowledge is great and whose reward is assured from Heaven—if I read the abbreviation correctly and so on).
(On Yom Tov specifically there is such a reasoning in the Ḥatam Sofer, found in his glosses and novellae to Yerushalmi Beitzah 1:10: that labors were permitted which can be eaten immediately afterward. But his words are really puzzling, because kneading is certainly permitted on Yom Tov, and after kneading the food is not ready. In any case, according to him this is an issue in okhel nefesh, not in labors.)
It seems to me a distant connection. True, that too applies only to man, but it is not the same claim. The reasoning in itself may be correct, and it may not be. One has to look at the proofs.
In your remarks you mentioned the matter of creation in six days.
Do you really hold that way and not by the theory of evolution? How does that fit together?
This is not a historical claim. Within halakhic discourse, the world was created in six days.
You said you are not in favor of pious falsehoods, didn’t you?
In any case, your answer is too brief, and also not entirely clear to me. If you would be willing to clarify it,
thank you.
What do pious falsehoods have to do with this? I am speaking here about myths and legends, not lies.
When I write here about creation in six days, I mean to say it in the same sense in which it is written in the Torah and in our tradition. Within this discourse the world was indeed created in six days, and that is what we must teach. This is not a factual claim, since factually it probably was not created in six days, but the Torah chose to give us this description for its own reasons.
Seemingly electricity is in fact a force that human beings created. So it turns out that when a person turns on a light, for example, both his action and the result of the lighting were created by human beings. Why should that be prohibited?
Could you translate that into Hebrew? What exactly is your question referring to?
You explained that all human creation is only moving objects from place to place, while creation itself comes from nature (from God). My question is whether the use of electricity also fits that definition, since electricity is a human creation, and one cannot say that desecrating Shabbat by turning on a light, for example, is a creation of a force of nature. At most, perhaps a secondary force.
Generating electricity is no different at all from any of our other actions. There too we are only moving things around.
Do you teach at Bar-Ilan?
And do you cover all the labors, or Shabbat in order?