Another Look at Declarative Halakhot (Column 351)
A few days ago I was asked about my statements on wiping out Amalek, “lower them and do not raise them,” and the like. Among other things, I said there that I assume these will not be reinstated in the future, and with respect to some of them I even doubted whether they were ever practiced in the past. It follows that there are halakhot that depend on the existence of certain circumstances, and there are halakhot that were never intended to be carried out in practice. In the course of my remarks I noted that, in my view, the latter category includes halakhot with declarative-educational aims, and therefore they were not meant to be implemented. In this column I wish to touch a bit more on this halakhic phenomenon (after the column went up, people pointed out to me that I already wrote about this in Column 293. And there is no study hall without a new insight).
The Sanhedrin Sugya: The Rebellious Son
In Mishna Sanhedrin 71a we find:
If his father wishes and his mother does not wish, or his father does not wish and his mother wishes, he does not become a wayward and rebellious son until they both wish. Rabbi Yehuda says: If his mother was not “fit” for his father, he does not become a wayward and rebellious son.
The Gemara there discusses the meaning of the requirement that his mother be “fit” for his father:
What is “not fit”? If you say [the parents are] in relationships prohibited on pain of karet or capital punishment by the court—after all, his father is his father and his mother is his mother. Rather, it means equal to his father. A baraita likewise teaches so: Rabbi Yehuda says, if his mother is not equal to his father in voice, in appearance, and in stature, he does not become a wayward and rebellious son. What is the reason? For Scripture says “he does not heed our voice”—since equality in voice is required, equality in appearance and stature is required as well.
Halakha requires that the father and mother be equal to one another in voice, appearance, and stature—a requirement that is, of course, almost impossible. It is no wonder that the Gemara immediately proceeds to claim that the rebellious son passage is theoretical law:
In accordance with whom is that which was taught: A wayward and rebellious son never was and never will be; and why was it written? Expound and receive reward. In accordance with whom? In accordance with Rabbi Yehuda. If you wish, say it is Rabbi Shimon, for it was taught: Rabbi Shimon said, Is it because this one ate a tartimar of meat and drank half a log of Italian wine that his father and mother bring him out to be stoned? Rather, it never was and never will be; and why was it written? Expound and receive reward. Rabbi Yonatan said: I saw him and sat upon his grave.
The baraita states that the rebellious son is purely theoretical and will never be implemented. The Gemara offers two possible explanations:
- It follows Rabbi Yehuda in the Mishna, who imposes impossible requirements for applying this law. On this explanation, this is not a prophetic statement but a consequence of the very low probability that these conditions will be met.
- It follows Rabbi Shimon, who holds that this law was not meant to be implemented. This can be understood in two ways: (1) In his view it is unreasonable to impose such a punishment for such a minor offense. (2) Even if that were reasonable in itself, it is not reasonable that parents would hand their son over to be executed for such acts. In any case, according to him it is clear that this halakha was never intended to be carried out, but only to be studied and rewarded. I note that the formulation “expound and receive reward” points to explanation (1), for according to (2) this is a valid law requiring practical implementation; thus there is no question why it was written. The fact that parents will not carry it out does not render the writing superfluous. One can counter that the rebellious son law depends on his parents bringing him to court, and therefore even if they choose not to bring him, they transgress no commandment. Still, it seems that on that view the question of why it is written should not arise, since it is a correct, binding law; hence “expound and receive reward” inclines toward interpretation (1).
The attribution to Rabbi Yehuda views this as the result of the Torah’s impossible demands, but in principle this halakha is intended for application: if those extreme conditions were met, we would be obligated to carry it out. By contrast, the attribution to Rabbi Shimon is far more radical, for he says that this law is not meant to be implemented even apart from Rabbi Yehuda’s extreme demands—simply because it is not a correct law, or because people will not carry it out.
Are these two opinions in dispute, or do they complement one another? One could argue there is no dispute: the reason the law is not meant to be implemented is because it is unreasonable (Rabbi Shimon, in the first possibility above), and the way to ensure it will not be implemented is to derive from the Torah impossible conditions (Rabbi Yehuda). On this reading, Rabbi Yehuda’s derashot serve a teleological purpose, but he too understands that this is not the plain sense of the verses. That is very puzzling, for if Rabbi Yehuda agrees this is not the verses’ intent, why the charade? Let him state candidly that this is a theoretical law and therefore not to be carried out. Why play make-believe as if the verse requires conditions that never crossed the Almighty’s mind and are not really in the verse? True, saying outright that we must not fulfill a divine command does not sound acceptable—but on this proposal that is essentially what Rabbi Shimon is doing. There is, of course, a possibility that these derashot truly arise from the verses via the methods of midrash (even if to us they seem very puzzling), i.e., that the Torah itself intended that the rebellious son law be applied only under those conditions, and Rabbi Shimon’s words merely explain the extremity of the demands by describing the Torah’s aim. Rabbi Shimon would then be saying that the reason the Torah imposes such extreme requirements is that it does not want us to implement this precept in practice.
Another possibility is that they indeed disagree. Rabbi Yehuda derives these rulings through the methods of derash, and thus, practically, a rebellious son “never was and never will be.” But in principle the law is not flawed; it seems reasonable and appropriate (and even if not, since the Torah decreed it, it must be fulfilled). Rabbi Shimon, however, claims we must not implement this law because it is not reasonable, and he does not base this on Rabbi Yehuda’s derashot. In his view there is no halakhic requirement that the parents be equal in voice, appearance, etc., and yet we have the authority to determine that a given law was not intended for practical implementation. The Yad Ramah ad loc. writes that these are indeed disputing views, explaining that according to Rabbi Yehuda the parents would bring him to court because they understand he is judged for his end (that he is destined to prey upon people).
The sugya concludes with Rabbi Yonatan saying that he himself saw a case of a rebellious son and even sat on his grave. In other words, in his view this law is actionable and was in fact implemented in the past. Moreover, it is likely that he holds there are no such extreme requirements regarding the parents, and therefore it could be implemented. With difficulty one could say that he agrees such requirements exist, but he saw a case in which, against all odds, they were met.
I would only note that it is unlikely Rabbi Yonatan literally saw a rebellious son stoned, since capital punishments were no longer practiced in his time (if they were ever practiced at all; see below). Note he says he saw him and also sat on his grave. Furthermore, if he testifies that he saw a rebellious son, how can other Tannaim dispute the law’s applicability?![1] It may be that he is merely expressing, in a literary way, a firm a priori assertion that there cannot be halakhot not intended for implementation. Therefore it is obvious to him that there was a rebellious son (or at least there could have been),[2] and for him it is as if he saw him and even sat on his grave.
The Sanhedrin Sugya: The Condemned City and the Leprous House
The Gemara there continues and brings another case:
In accordance with whom is that which was taught: A condemned (idolatrous) city never was and never will be; and why was it written? Expound and receive reward. In accordance with whom? In accordance with Rabbi Eliezer, as it was taught: Rabbi Eliezer says, any city that contains even a single mezuzah cannot become a condemned city. What is the reason? For Scripture says, “and you shall gather all its spoil into the midst of its square and burn with fire,” and since if there is a mezuzah it is impossible [to destroy], as it is written, “You shall not do so to the Lord your God.” Rabbi Yonatan said: I saw it and sat upon its ruins.
Here, only two interpretive options arise. The possibility that this follows Rabbi Shimon—that the punishment is unreasonable and therefore not to be implemented—is not raised; only an opinion paralleling Rabbi Yehuda’s appears. This perhaps slightly strengthens the reading that even above, in the rebellious son case, Rabbi Shimon’s concern is that the parents will not bring him to court, not that the punishment itself is unreasonable. Here such a possibility cannot be entertained, since this does not depend on the parents, and therefore such a view is not cited.
At the end of the sugya a third case is brought:
In accordance with whom is that which was taught: A leprous house never was and never will be; and why was it written? Expound and receive reward. In accordance with whom? In accordance with Rabbi Elazar son of Rabbi Shimon, as we learned in a Mishna: Rabbi Elazar son of Rabbi Shimon says: A house is never impure until [the lesion] is seen like two grisin on two stones on two walls in a corner, its length as two grisin and its width as one gris. What is his reasoning? It is written “wall” (kir) and it is written “walls” (kirat); which wall is like walls? You must say: a corner.
Here only one possibility appears: it is unlikely that the conditions will ever be met. Apparently here we cannot assume that the punishment is unreasonable, since we are speaking of demolishing a house and not executing people, and besides, demolition is not a punishment at all.
Summary of the Sugya
We saw three halakhot and three approaches to them: With the rebellious son, there is the possibility that the punishment is unreasonable and therefore not to be implemented; the possibility that the requirements for application are so extreme that probabilistically they will not be met; and the view that the punishment is applicable and even occurred. With the condemned city we saw the latter two possibilities. With the leprous house only the second possibility exists.
Note that these are three halakhot in which the Torah mandates very extreme measures (demolishing a person’s house is also very extreme), and therefore one can ask whether the intention is that they be realized in practice. However, the a priori assessment that the measure is unreasonable, from which one concludes it is not to be implemented, appears only in the rebellious son (per Rabbi Shimon), and even there it is not clear. It may be that Rabbi Shimon merely assesses that the parents will not carry it out, and not that the punishment is unreasonable.
Why Were These Halakhot Written?
The obvious question is why the Torah writes these passages at all. If indeed they will not be realized in practice—whether like Rabbi Shimon or like Rabbi Yehuda—why write them? The Gemara itself addresses this and explains: “Expound and receive reward.” Above I noted that this wording points to option (1) in Rabbi Shimon: he holds the law is unworthy and therefore not meant to be implemented.
But this is still puzzling for several reasons. First, are we lacking topics with practical application to study and be rewarded for? Second, why is there value in studying and being rewarded for a sugya with implausible, irrational rulings? What can be learned from them? That, of course, depends on the explanations we proposed for Rabbi Shimon. At least according to the explanation that the punishment is unreasonable and therefore not to be implemented, it is not clear why the Torah would write a passage that prescribes an unreasonable measure. Perhaps that in itself shows that this is not the correct explanation of Rabbi Shimon; rather, he means that in practice parents will not bring the child to judgment, not that the punishment is unreasonable.
In Torat Chaim on this sugya, the author struggles with this:
“And why was it written? Expound and receive reward.” At first glance this is astounding: since the purpose of Talmud Torah is that it leads to action, what benefit is there in learning something that has no practical application? This is no question, for there is no [thorn]* in the Torah and no commandment without a secret in the Essence of the Blessed One, as it is said, “God understood its way, and He knew its place”—“its place” means its foundation and root in His very Essence. And whoever engages in Torah, even if he does not perform [its commandments], is engaging in His holy honor and cleaves his intellect to the Blessed One. And this is what is said in Perek Rabbi Akiva: When Moses ascended on high, the ministering angels said, ‘Master of the Universe, a treasure hidden from the six days of Creation You seek to give to flesh and blood? Set Your splendor upon the heavens!’ Moses answered them: ‘What is written in it? “Remember the Sabbath day”—do you do work? “You shall not bear [God’s name in vain]”—do you have commerce among you?’ etc. And in Midrash Shocher Tov he also mentioned zavim and metzorayim, nidah and yoledet. And it is said there that when Israel made the Golden Calf, the ministering angels rejoiced and said: ‘Now the Torah will return to us.’ At first glance, how could the angels think this? Did they not know they are not subject to the performance of mitzvot? It seems as we explained: there are two aspects in Torah—action and hearing (i.e., apprehending through it God’s honor and holiness). It entered the angels’ minds that “hearing” alone suffices, and it would be preferable to the Blessed One to give it to them, since they are spiritual and have greater power to apprehend His honor through it than Israel, who are human. He answered them: ‘Do you have among you zavim and metzorayim…?’—that certainly both are preferable. And so it appears in Midrash Rabbah on Esther: when Israel enjoyed Ahasuerus’s feast, Satan stood and accused, saying before Him: ‘Until when will You cleave to this nation? Destroy them from the world!’ He said to him: ‘And what will become of the Torah?’ He said to Him: ‘Master of the Universe, be satisfied with the upper beings,’ and the Holy One, blessed be He, also inclined to wipe out Israel… Since it does not say “give it to the upper beings” but “be satisfied with the upper beings,” it implies thus: From the outset You did not give the Torah to the upper beings because You would not be satisfied with them, since they have only “hearing” without “action.” Now that Israel are not fulfilling it, be satisfied with the upper beings with “hearing” alone.”[3]
He explains that from every passage in the Torah one can learn various spiritual lessons, irrespective of the halakhot it addresses; this applies to these three passages as well. Still, it must be understood why we learn spiritual lessons from a passage whose halakhic plain sense is incorrect and unreasonable. It is generally assumed that every passage is to be interpreted on the level of peshat and on the level of sod, and on both levels it yields correct meanings we must learn from.
R. Yisrael Salanter, in his essay “Hok u-Mishpat,” asks this question too. His claim is that these passages were written to teach the principle of “expound and receive reward,” namely, that study is not only in order to know what to do but has intrinsic value. This then serves as a prototype for all Torah study (not only for these passages). One can still ask: why write an incorrect or unreasonable passage in order to teach this lesson? Let a correct, yet non-applicable, lesson be written. On his view it is more plausible that the passage is correct but, for some reason, not meant for practical implementation. Somewhat like “the law is [technically] X but we do not teach/practice so”—only more extreme: the law is X, and we teach to act otherwise (i.e., not only do we not publicize it; even one who knows it is not meant to carry it out).
This can be phrased slightly differently. It could be that these verses are declarative-educational: in principle, it would be appropriate to do so, but for various reasons it is not correct to implement these directives in the practical world. The verses were written for an educational-declarative purpose: to teach us what ought to be done and how, according to the Torah, one should relate to such situations and actions. The fact that we do not do so in practice is for collateral reasons. Many explain in this spirit the category of “the law is X but we do not teach so,” such as “one who has relations with an Aramean woman—zealots may strike him.” This is indeed the right thing to do, but practically it can be harmful and breed illegitimate zealotry; therefore the Torah prefers not to instruct it (though in that case it is meant to be carried out by one who truly understands it is appropriate, like Pinhas).
Note that this proposal combines the two directions raised above (Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon). The step mandated in these three situations is, in principle, proper and correct—even according to Rabbi Shimon. Therefore it is fitting to legislate so, for by doing so we declare that such acts deserve such a punishment and that such a step is proper in such cases. However, Rabbi Shimon holds that, for some reason, it is not correct to implement it as is. For example, a rebellious son destined to prey upon the public certainly deserves to be stoned, but there are reasons not to implement this in practice, and therefore it will not occur. Courts will not sentence a rebellious son to death. Why, then, did the Torah write the passage? To teach children—and us—what the value of such actions is and what would be appropriate to do in response. Perhaps the very writing of this law will prevent the rebellious son phenomenon, and thus obviate its practical implementation. That is the declarative-educational achievement for which it was written.[4]
As for the reason not to implement it in practice, several suggestions can be made. For example, that this is a purely educational-deterrent statement and not a practical command. Underlying this is the assumption that the son’s guilt and the offense itself are not all that severe, and thus do not justify such a harsh punishment. True, he may in the future come to serious acts, and then perhaps the punishment would be justified (as with a pursuer or a burglar tunneling in, who are judged by their end), but at this stage the “punishment” serves only prevention and not retribution. One could therefore say it is an unjustified punishment for this act, and even considerations of future prevention do not necessarily justify disproportionate punishment. A similar consideration appears in Derashot ha-Ran, Derush 11, regarding hatra’ah (forewarning):
We will further explain: setting aside one side of the issue, we learned in Perek “Hayu Bodkin” (Sanhedrin 40b): “The Sages taught: ‘Do you recognize him?’… ‘Did you warn him?’ ‘Did he accept the warning?’ ‘He permitted himself to death?’ ‘[Did he] kill within the span of speaking?’ etc.” There is no doubt that all this is proper from the standpoint of just judgment, for why should a person be put to death unless he knew he was bringing himself into a matter liable to death and transgressed it? Hence he must accept forewarning, and all the other matters taught there—that is true, essential just judgment entrusted to judges. But if the transgressor is punished only in this way, the political order will utterly collapse: murderers will proliferate and will not fear punishment. Therefore the Blessed One commanded, for the sake of the world’s settlement, the appointment of a king, as it is written in this section (Deut. 17:14–15): “When you come into the land… you shall set, set over you a king,” which is a mitzva that we were commanded to appoint a king, as received by our Sages (Sanhedrin 20b). And the king can judge even without forewarning, as he sees is necessary for the political collective.
The Ran explains that in essence it would be right to punish a deliberate sinner even without forewarning, since we must deter criminals. He argues that if we insist on all the forewarning rules (the witnesses warn him, he accepts the warning and says “Yes, and on that condition I do it”—see Tosefta Sanhedrin, beginning of ch. 11), no one will ever be punished, and deterrence will vanish. Therefore general law (“the law of the king”) requires punishing even without forewarning to deter, although without forewarning the criminal’s guilt is not fully complete (in itself perhaps he does not deserve punishment). But Torah law, unlike the king’s law, holds that if he himself does not deserve punishment, public-deterrence considerations alone do not justify punishing him (it is not “just judgment,” in his words). And that is exactly my point.
In this connection it is worth noting the famous responsum of the Rashba (IV, no. 413), where he exempts a community from all of Torah law’s judicial rules (evidence, procedure, punishments) when they judge for the city’s welfare. There they may act according to rules of evidence and procedure as seems fit (apparently accepting one witness, self-incrimination, women’s testimony, etc.). One sees that beyond the rules the Torah set, there is a need to judge more flexibly for the sake of the polity and the public. Alternatively, one sees that judging strictly by the Torah will not achieve those aims.
“An Eye for an Eye”
This explanation naturally brings us to the “eye for an eye” passage. There too the Sages expound that we do not remove the offender’s eye but impose monetary liability. Again the question arises: why does the Torah not state this explicitly? Why write an incorrect formulation and leave it to the midrashic tradition to reinterpret?
Many explained that the Torah is telling us that, ideally, one should remove the eye, but for various reasons we do not do so in practice. The plain sense indicates what ought to be done, while the derash tells us what is done in practice. Here we have an example of a Torah directive not meant for implementation, although the assumption is that it is in fact a fitting punishment.
But there the Sages interpreted the verse and removed it from its plain sense. Thus it is not an ideal example for our topic, which is whether one may determine, without such midrashic backing, that a Torah directive was not intended for practical implementation. Rabbi Shimon on the rebellious son is of course a better example.
The Death Penalty
Aharon Shemesh, of blessed memory, in his book on biblical punishments, argued that capital punishments were never actually practiced. He claims the entire system was conceptualized and developed in a period when capital punishment had already been abolished. I have not read the book, and at first glance this seems puzzling to me, since the Sages have several descriptions implying such punishments were practiced (otherwise what does it mean they were “abolished”? That implies there was a period in which they did occur), and they ceased only when murderers multiplied, etc. For our purposes, I merely wish to present this view as another example of our principle.
In this context it is apt to cite the Mishna at the end of the first chapter of Makkot (7a):
A Sanhedrin that executes once in seven years is called destructive. Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria says: Once in seventy years. Rabbi Tarfon and Rabbi Akiva say: Were we on the Sanhedrin, no person would ever be executed. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: They too would increase bloodshed in Israel.
The trend in the first part of the Mishna is to minimize capital punishment, but that does not turn it into a purely theoretical institution. Still, there seems to be an undertone of the principle I suggest here: reading the Torah simply, one should punish anyone liable to death rather than contrive to circumvent the Torah’s directive. There seems to be a subtext that it is not appropriate to carry out such punishments in practice, and therefore we minimize them as much as possible.
Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Tarfon, in the latter clause of the Mishna, go a step further and claim that capital punishment is not meant for implementation at all. The Gemara explains they would interrogate the witnesses with questions that cannot be answered (was there a puncture where the sword was? did you see like a paintbrush in a tube? etc.), i.e., they propose to use extreme interpretive and procedural devices to circumvent the Torah’s prescribed punishment. This is very similar to what we saw with Rabbi Shimon: he views a Torah command as not meant for practical implementation. Admittedly, here they proceed more like Rabbi Yehuda, using (extreme) interpretive moves to avoid death sentences rather than simply declaring that the command is not to be carried out.
It is interesting that Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel’s argument against them is not substantive. It may be that he agrees in principle that it is not appropriate to execute for such offenses, but he argues that such a policy will increase bloodshed—i.e., there will be no deterrence. Precisely as we saw in the Ran regarding forewarning cited above.[5]
Disqualified Witnesses[6]
As is known, the disqualification of relatives as witnesses does not stem from a concern about reliability; it is a personal disqualification by scriptural decree. This is explicit in the Gemara and codified in the Rambam and Shulchan Arukh. Students usually accept this with equanimity, and in my estimation that is because even if we disqualify relatives’ testimony nothing dramatic happens: at most a criminal will go unpunished (or we will imprison him rather than execute him). But imagine the following case: two witnesses testify that Reuven murdered Shimon. Two brothers then come and render the first pair false witnesses (hazama). What should we do? Seemingly, the brothers’ testimony is invalid; therefore the first testimony remains valid and we must execute Reuven as a murderer. On the other hand, we saw that relatives’ testimony is not unreliable per se; factually the first witnesses lied and Reuven did not murder Shimon. Can it be that the court would execute Reuven in such a case?
I have already written that I have no doubt it would not. In such a case the court must acquit Reuven, or at least recuse itself. Admittedly, it is quite clear we would not apply the law of hazama to the first witnesses when the renderers are relatives. If so, we see that the disqualification of relatives is not always meant to be implemented.
Now consider the opposite direction. At the beginning of Sanhedrin 24 the Rambam rules that in civil cases the requirement of two witnesses is not essential; a court may rule on the basis of other evidence, provided the court is convinced of the truth (unlike criminal punishment, where the demand for witnesses is absolute; see the beginning of ch. 20 there).[7] Now consider the case where two brothers testify that Reuven stole from Shimon. They are indeed disqualified witnesses—but not due to unreliability. Therefore, when the judges wish to know whether Reuven in fact stole, the answer is yes. True, they may not rely on relatives as witnesses, but they can use their testimony as an umdena (assessment), for factually the court knows Reuven stole. I have seen several later authorities write that in such a case we do not extract the money from Reuven, because there is a scriptural decree not to rely on relatives’ testimony. In my view, we certainly should extract the money on the basis of the umdena. And what of the disqualification of relatives in civil cases? That is a theoretical law not meant for practical implementation.[8]
One Who Stuck a Loaf to the Oven
In Shabbat 4a the Gemara discusses one who stuck a loaf to the oven and it is now baking. When the baking finishes he will have violated the melakha of cooking/baking and be liable to stoning. If he removes it before it bakes he will avoid stoning, but the removal itself is rabbinically prohibited. The Gemara asks whether one may remove the loaf in violation of a rabbinic prohibition in order to avoid liability for stoning.
The Gemara’s simple assumption is that if he leaves the loaf to bake and obeys the prohibition against removing it, he will indeed be liable to stoning—even though his refraining from removal was due to obedience to a rabbinic prohibition. Indeed, Rishonim and Aharonim grapple with why this is not considered coercion (ones) and offer answers. Yet Tosafot (s.v. “kodem”) ask there:
“If you say, what is the question whether they permitted removing it? Obviously he will not listen to us if we forbid it.”
Tosafot assume that even if it were prohibited, a reasonable person would not obey the Sages in such a case and would remove the loaf even if we forbade it; he would prefer to transgress a rabbinic prohibition to save his life.[9] But Tosafot continue and claim that if this is the situation, then it cannot be genuinely prohibited. Their premise is that there cannot be a prohibition that is not meant for practical compliance.
For this reason Tosafot must resolve:
“Riva answered that if they did not permit it, he would not be liable to stoning, since his refraining from removal is due to our forbidding him.”
That is, in truth there would be no liability to stoning because he refrains only due to the prohibition (it is unclear whether this is an exemption of coercion or some other exemption). In such a case there is a chance he will listen to us, and therefore there is room to say that such a prohibition exists.
But in Rashi there (3b) it appears that even if there were a prohibition to remove the loaf, one who refrains would still be liable to stoning. One can deflect this reading of Rashi, but I cite this view—which certainly exists among Rishonim and Aharonim in the sugya—as another example of our point: on that view it is quite possible for there to be a prohibition that is not meant for practical compliance. We must remember this is a rabbinic prohibition: the Sages could have refrained from forbidding removal if they knew the public would not obey it (in such a case it would seem that even if they did forbid it, the decree would be null, since the public cannot uphold it). Why, then, did they forbid it? I propose that this prohibition is declarative-educational. Perhaps Rashi holds the prohibition is meant to educate the public and show them how severe the Sabbath is—that even a rabbinic prohibition is not overridden to save oneself. In practice people will transgress it, but perhaps this declarative statement will itself prevent the need, because people will understand from the outset and not stick the loaf. On my proposal, this halakha serves to deter and educate but is not meant to be enforced in practice. Moreover, on this proposal it may be that even if we forbade removal, one who removed would not be punished for a rabbinic violation, because this is not a law meant for practical implementation.
A similar question arose for me when learning the chapter “Kol Kitvei ha-Kodesh” in Shabbat. The Gemara deals there with the rabbinic prohibition against rescuing one’s possessions from a burning house on Shabbat, lest under pressure one forget it is Shabbat and come to extinguish. Note that in such a case even extinguishing the fire directly is only rabbinically prohibited (extinguishing not for charcoal production is a melakha she-eina tzricha le-gufa). Therefore, a fortiori we should permit even extinguishing itself, and all the more so permit rescue despite the fear he might come to extinguish. Yet the Sages forbid this. Now ask yourself: is there anyone who will uphold such a prohibition? Your entire property is going up in flames, and you are to stand by and neither extinguish nor save—save for food for three meals and holy books and appurtenances. It seems to me that hardly any reasonable person would comply with such a halakhic directive. People will prefer to transgress a rabbinic prohibition and live the rest of their lives normally. Moreover, what they save will enable them to perform many Torah commandments, grant them mental and physical health—all at the price of violating a light rabbinic decree made only lest one violate another rabbinic prohibition. It therefore seems that this too is a declarative-educational halakha not meant for practical compliance. We want to educate people about the gravity and sanctity of Shabbat, but we do not actually expect them to comply.[10]
Incidentally, in practice many decisors apply very liberally the Rema’s statement that nowadays the prohibition does not apply because of danger to neighbors’ lives, and pikuach nefesh overrides all prohibitions, of course. One can stretch this line of concern endlessly (there is always some risk the fire will spread; perhaps neighbors are in their apartments unaware of the blaze, etc.). Perhaps even the Rema himself wrote this like Rabbi Yehuda—i.e., as a reading intended to enable one to “evade” and rescue and even extinguish. But among the decisors who follow him, my impression is very clear that this is indeed their intent. For my part, I prefer intellectual honesty: simply say this is a halakha not meant for implementation, rather than employ far-fetched dispensations (i.e., in situations where there is no genuine danger to life).
Reconciling the Sugyot
Tosafot in Shabbat speak of a rabbinic prohibition (removing the loaf) and say that if it is not meant for compliance it is not prohibited. How does this fit with Sanhedrin, where we saw that the Torah may include commandments not meant for practical implementation? One might attempt to distinguish between prohibitions (lo ta’aseh) and positive commands (mitsvot ‘aseh): perhaps prohibitions cannot be such, while positive commands (like demolishing a leprous house, burning a condemned city, and executing the rebellious son) can be declarative. But this distinction does not seem compelling.
It is more plausible that Tosafot understand that there we are dealing with Torah-level commandments, and the Torah can include commands not meant for practical implementation in order to teach a theoretical lesson. But rabbinic decrees are meant for practice; if they do not achieve the practical aim, the Sages would not legislate them. In other words, Tosafot do not claim that a norm not meant for practical compliance is no norm at all; they only claim that, in such a case, the Sages would not legislate it. On this basis, in principle, if they nonetheless legislated it, Tosafot might agree that it would possess binding force and one who violates it has transgressed.
Back to the Opening Examples
Returning now to the examples with which I opened: whether according to Rashi or according to Tosafot, those are declarative-educational directives not meant for practical implementation, since they are Torah-level commands and not rabbinic decrees.
By way of a postscript I add that, of course, there are cases and directives that at some stage were meant for practical implementation, but as circumstances change one can reconsider their practical application. In a society with different culture and values, there are directives we ought not to implement. The rationales presented are usually “we lack coercive power,” “there is no one capable of rebuking properly,” “appearance’s sake,” “ways of peace,” “desecration of God’s name,” “its ways are ways of pleasantness,” and the like—but I sense that not infrequently behind them stands a substantive view that nowadays these should not be implemented. That is: the law is X, and we instruct not to act accordingly (and not merely “the law is X and we do not teach it”).
[1] It is unlikely they are disputing the earlier court that carried it out.
[2] It need not have occurred in fact. In principle, there could well have been no child who qualified as a rebellious son. But in his view the possibility must exist, for that is the law’s essence.
[3] His words also resolve a difficulty in the midrash he cites: what did the angels think when they sought to keep the Torah for themselves? Moses’s answer is trivial: they have no parents, they do not work and have no need for Sabbath rest, there is no murder or theft among them, etc. So what did they do with the Torah before it descended, and what did they want to do with it were it to remain? It follows that even in the halakhic parts of the Torah there are spiritual faces relevant also to angels, and the halakhic implementation is but the worldly application of those spiritual principles. I discussed this at length in my lecture series “What Is Torah,” especially lecture 9.
[4] I believe I once wrote that the punishments of Gehinnom appear to me to be a similar phenomenon. After a person dies, there is no utility to a punishment his soul would receive. He will not return here to implement anything, and those left here do not know whether he was punished. It is therefore quite plausible that there is a declaration of punishment in Gehinnom, but the Holy One will not actually execute it. It is a declaration meant to achieve deterrence and educational results, but there is no need—and no value—in carrying it out.
[5] I have already explained elsewhere that the difference likely relates to their roles. R. Akiva and R. Tarfon were not on the Sanhedrin, and thus bore no leadership responsibility for public order; they could therefore indulge a purist application of halakha. But Rabban Gamliel was the head of the Sanhedrin and, as such, had to ensure deterrence and prevent murder. Therefore he does not accept their proposal, even if he perhaps agrees in principle. Using the Ran’s distinction, one can say that Rabban Gamliel adopts here the king’s policy, while R. Akiva and R. Tarfon articulate Torah’s pure justice. In Column 164 (and elsewhere) I explained that in that period the Nasi of the Sanhedrin also functioned as king.
[6] On this matter, see my essay “What Is a Scriptural Decree?” and the Migo booklet here on the site.
[7] See there that this rule is no longer practiced today, at least not simply. Its source is in the Rif; this is not the place to elaborate.
[8] Perhaps it could be applied where the court is not truly convinced—i.e., it has doubts about the witnesses’ credibility apart from their being relatives. But in such a case the disqualification is not due to their kinship. For any two witnesses about whose credibility the court has doubts, I recuse myself from the case (this is what halakha calls a “suspect case,” din merumeh).
[9] One could also ask about the force of such a rabbinic prohibition, for pikuach nefesh overrides all prohibitions of the Torah. This also raises the question of “coercion on the final day,” whether such a case is considered coercion, and more. The sugya has many fundamental aspects that I cannot address here.
[10] Seemingly, this Gemara challenges Tosafot’s position cited above: Tosafot said that a (rabbinic?) prohibition not meant for compliance is not prohibited, whereas here we see it is. With difficulty one could say that, if the price is property and not life, reasonable people will comply, or that the proportion of people who will comply justifies imposing the prohibition.
Discussion
1. "This is a declaration meant to achieve deterrence and educational results, but there is no need, nor any value, in actually carrying it out."
So if someone knows it will never actually be carried out, and thinks creatively and tells others, then we’ve achieved the opposite result—there is no deterrence. No?
2. It is hard for me to understand why the Sages did not count the stubborn and rebellious son and the apostate city under the rule that halakhah follows/overrides Scripture.
3. According to Josephus in his Antiquities of the Jews, in his time they were still putting out an eye according to the plain meaning of the verse. And it could be, as Ibn Ezra explains, that even before the Sages, “you shall cut off her hand” meant literally—if she had no money. And the Sages only left open the option of monetary payment.
The rabbi explained: "I would only note that it is unlikely that Rabbi Yonatan באמת saw a stubborn and rebellious son who was stoned, since capital laws were no longer practiced in his time (if they were ever practiced at all. See below). Note that he writes that he saw him and also sat on his grave. Beyond that, if he testifies that he saw a stubborn and rebellious son, how can other tannaim dispute the applicability of this law?![1] It may be that his intention is only to express, in literary form, a firm and a priori principled assertion that there cannot be laws not intended for implementation. Therefore it is obvious to him that there was a stubborn and rebellious son (or at least there could have been one)[2], and from his perspective that is as if he saw him and even sat on his grave."
Indeed, column no. 351 is quite fitting for discussing the laws of blotting out Amalek, "they are lowered and not raised," the stubborn and rebellious son, and the apostate city 🙂
With the blessing, "Be shaken, O Jerusalem,"
Gruinem Yekum-Purkan, Committee for the Searchers of Sins, here in the holy city
I would note in passing that in column 293 the possibility was not raised that someone who violated the declarative rabbinic law and took something down would not be punished. This may seem insignificant, but I think it points to a conceptual difference.
1. That’s why I said both deterrence and education. Deterrence may not be achieved for someone who knows, but education is. When people see that this is the punishment the Torah says is fitting to impose, they understand that this is a problematic act, even if for some side reason or another it is not actually imposed. Deterrence is achieved only if a person does not know that it is impractical (for the ignorant masses). And our Sages already said (ibid., ibid.): only an ignoramus is pious.
2. Halakhah follows/overrides Scripture is a halakhah given to Moses at Sinai (see Rashi Sotah 16a). When the midrash overrides/follows, that is a different discussion, and these cases (which also are not many—like "an eye for an eye," for example, or "he shall be called by the name of his dead brother") are all not counted here.
However, even if this did include midrash, all this depends on whether you ask according to Rabbi Shimon or according to Rabbi Yehudah. According to Rabbi Yehudah, the halakhah only interprets Scripture and does not override it. According to Rabbi Shimon, the halakhah also does not override it, but only says that it is not practically applicable.
Unbelievable. I didn’t even remember that I had already written a column about this. 🙂
Why treat the biblical layer and the rabbinic layer as a single block? Why not say that there was a movement here, a development—from a world in which "an eye for an eye" or the stubborn and rebellious son was acceptable, to a rabbinic world in which these things were no longer acceptable and therefore received softening, abstraction, symbolization, and the like? After all, that is the case in other areas as well.
That is certainly possible. It does not touch on the core of what I’m saying. In the end, after a long process, one arrives at a situation in which there are declarative laws. Whether this was the situation from the outset or not is a historical question of no importance here. At the end of my remarks I also explicitly wrote that there are laws that were implemented in the past and that, as time passes, there is room to consider ceasing to implement them.
"A historical question of no importance"??? Such understanding is beyond me. Why, this is exactly like "layers" in Talmud study. The process itself, the very awareness of it, its existence—all these are utterly fascinating and extremely important. Not to mention that they are often far more interesting than the bottom line—the final result (yes, practical halakhah or no).
With God’s help, 2 Tevet 5781
To Chayuta—greetings,
One of the proofs the Sages bring for the impossibility of the law of the "stubborn and rebellious son" is the requirement, "his father and his mother shall seize him"—where can one find a mother who would forget "the child of her womb" and demand that he be put to death? It is hardly for nothing that the prophet brings "Can a woman forget her nursing child, the child of her womb?" as an example of something that cannot happen.
As for "an eye for an eye"—the Torah allowed even a death penalty to be redeemed by ransom in the case of one who was negligent in guarding his goring ox and thereby caused a person’s death; similarly, the Torah establishes the possibility of "and he shall pay as the judges determine" for one who strikes a pregnant woman and causes a miscarriage—so all the more so in a case where there was only injury to a limb, where according to the Torah there is room to redeem bodily punishment with money. Only in the case of a murderer by direct action did the Torah forbid taking ransom.
In any case, although Scripture contains descriptions of executions, there is not even a single biblical record of a sentence of limb amputation carried out by judges of Israel (as distinct from the kings of the nations, among whom we do find cutting off hands and feet or gouging out eyes). It therefore seems that the Sages’ interpretation rested on an ancient tradition that had never recognized the use of punishments involving mutilation.
With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner
Incidentally, "an eye for an eye" is stated only regarding intentional injury, as is proved by the parallel to "a life for a life" (and as Rabbi Eliezer says), and clearly it required "two or three witnesses" and conclusive proof that the injury was done intentionally—conditions that are very hard to meet, since anyone plotting to kill or injure his fellow will take care not to do so in front of "two or three witnesses." Therefore bodily punishment could almost never be carried out, and accordingly courts always preferred, from the time of Moses onward, to redeem bodily punishment with monetary compensation that would help the victim recover.
In paragraph 1, line 1
… "his father shall seize him…
In paragraph 2, line 2
… and thereby caused his death…
And a note:
In general society, among the nations of the world, in the time of the Sages there was no problem at all with cruel corporal punishments or with executing a stubborn and rebellious son. The gentiles carried out such punishments "with pleasure," as a combination of justice and enjoyable entertainment for the crowd—so there is no room to imagine some kind of "moderating environmental influence." The demand for mercy in judgment is very much the product of the spirit of the Torah and the Prophets, not the fruit of foreign influence.
With blessings, Y.F.O.R.
Whether it is equally interesting or not is a matter of taste. What I wrote is that this is not the issue I’m dealing with here. I am arguing that in halakhah there are laws that are not meant for practical implementation. That’s all. Why should I care right now whether this developed over time or whether it was always so? Even if it is very interesting, how is it relevant to the discussion at all? And why do you think I’m mixing the Bible with the Sages? I am dealing only with the Sages—that is, with the halakhic interpretation of Scripture.
Fascinating to whom?
With God’s help, 2 Tevet 5781
To Yishai—greetings,
According to the Maharal (Novellae on Aggadah, Sanhedrin 71), the stubborn and rebellious son seen by Rabbi Yonatan symbolizes the people of Israel, who were punished for their rebellion, and the apostate city symbolizes Jerusalem, which was destroyed because of the people’s sin: "For Israel are called ‘My son, My firstborn, Israel,’ and they were stubborn and rebellious and would not listen to the voice of the Holy One, blessed be He, nor to their mother, who is the congregation of Israel, and concerning them it is said, ‘they disciplined him, but he would not listen to them’… Likewise, the apostate city was, because of our sins, Jerusalem, the holy city; the judgment of an apostate city was carried out upon it… and it will not be rebuilt again until the Holy One, blessed be He, rebuilds it Himself..
Rabbi Yonatan does not accept that there are commandments that will never be realized in reality. Rather, there are commandments realized in the individual person through human courts, and commandments realized in the people of Israel and in heavenly judgment, as the Maharal writes there: "Rabbi Yonatan held that no section was written in the Torah whose commandment was not realized in actual reality, and these two commandments were realized in Israel."
Rabbi Yonatan, a disciple of Rabbi Yishmael, certainly did not see a stubborn and rebellious son or an apostate city judged in human courts, since capital punishment had ceased in Israel long before his time. But he surely did see the destruction and killing that came in the wake of suppressing the Bar Kokhba revolt, after which Israel and its land were given over to plunder like a stubborn and rebellious son and like an apostate city. On the graves of the sons and on the mound of the city he sits and laments, but his lament is bound up with faith: the stubborn and rebellious son and the apostate city, which his physical eyes see as having existed—his spiritual eyes also see as "destined to exist," to rise again in resurrection.
With the blessing of an illuminating Hanukkah, Yaron Fishel Korinaldi
And in the simple sense one can say that Rabbi Yonatan knew cases in which a court judged the law of the stubborn and rebellious son and of the apostate city. Those who disagreed with him also knew these cases, but held that the court had not judged the law of the stubborn and rebellious son and the apostate city correctly.
Those who disagree with Rabbi Yonatan hold that in order to apply the law of the stubborn and rebellious son one needs such very special conditions—for example, Rabbi Yehudah’s requirement that the two parents be "equal in voice, appearance, and height"—and therefore they maintain that what the court ruled in that case they had heard of as a case of the stubborn and rebellious son was not in accordance with halakhah.
Regarding the law of the apostate city, we find a dispute between Rabbi Yonatan and Rabbi Yoshiyah: Rabbi Yoshiyah holds that the law of the apostate city applies only where there are ten to one hundred people, which is a limitation that narrows the law very greatly, while Rabbi Yonatan holds that even more than one hundred people count as an apostate city, until it becomes the majority of a tribe. Here too we can say that there was a known case in which a court judged the "law of the apostate city," but according to Rabbi Yoshiyah this proves nothing, since the halakhah does not follow that court.
Even according to this explanation one must say that Rabbi Yonatan’s words "I saw it" are not to be taken literally, since capital laws had ceased long before he was born. And likewise, what he said, "I sat on its grave," is not to be taken literally, since Rabbi Yonatan was a priest. It therefore seems that his intent was: "I knew the case and even its precise location."
With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner
You proposed two forms in Rabbi Shimon: (1) an excessive punishment, (2) a prediction that the parents would not bring him.
A. You supported form 1 from the wording "expound and receive reward." I didn’t understand the support. Without "expound and receive reward," we learn only in order to practice, and God would have no reason whatsoever to reveal to us a law that is never going to be carried out.
B. Form 2 should be supported from Rabbi Shimon’s wording: "And because of this… do his father and mother bring him out to stoning?" According to possibility 1, his father and mother are irrelevant. That seems explicit, apparently.
C. Form 2 should also be supported from Rabbi Shimon’s wording: "It never was and never will be." That implies he is dealing with reasoning about reality, not Torah law. According to possibility 1, he should have said only: the stubborn and rebellious son is not executed, and that’s it.
D. A third form in Rabbi Shimon is that it is unreasonable that one should die over a tartemar of meat (or that the parents would bring him), and therefore he interprets the conditions as the whole excessive package that the Gemara adds (Rambam, Rebels ch. 7). And consequently it will never happen. The methods of interpretation tend to follow what reasoning says is possible or plausible for the Gemara to say, as usual. You raised this form later on in your remarks ("there is of course the possibility of arguing," etc.), but I did not understand why you waved it away so casually.
E. Support for the Yad Ramah that there is a dispute. The baraita "It never was and never will be; rather, expound and receive reward" certainly fits Rabbi Shimon, who explicitly said the same thing. Therefore when the Gemara says "if you wish, say Rabbi Shimon," it does not mean *also* Rabbi Shimon, but rather (it is possible that) *only* Rabbi Shimon. But according to Rabbi Yehudah it may happen, as the Yad Ramah says.
A. Because even if some law is not intended for implementation, there is still a point in studying it if it teaches us other things. If it is not correct, then there is a difficulty as to why it was written at all.
B. That could be rhetorical flourish. For so minor an offense, one for which he does not deserve death, would his father and mother who love him bring him out to death?!
C. As above, that could be rhetorical flourish. It cannot be, therefore it never was and never will be.
D. Because on the face of it the Gemara seems to indicate that there is a dispute here.
E. Indeed. See section D.
In a class in the yeshivah in Yavneh, more than 40 years ago, the late rosh yeshivah taught things very similar regarding the stubborn and rebellious son.
He added that the Torah teaches us about the theoretical possibility of the existence of a person so corrupt that there is no remedy for him, and therefore he is judged on account of his future. To what extent can this theory actually materialize? Apparently not…
A. What are the other things it teaches us, and are they themselves practical or just "expound and receive reward"?
D. I didn’t understand. A dispute of Rabbi Shimon (that it will never happen) against Rabbi Yehudah (that it can happen)?
F. Regarding the death penalty: after all, the Sages did not refrain from legislating, for example, confinement in a cell. [In this too, and in the stubborn and rebellious son, I have a rather prosaic feeling that the issue is not what is or is not fitting, but to whom the decisions are entrusted. The moment one can flog and kill outside the strict letter of the law, the binding law simply becomes an annoying limitation and people try to get rid of it. Of course, as usual, this can be padded by saying they understood that this was fitting and therefore understood it this way in the Torah, etc. One could call it rabbinic imperialism (and Rabbi Pirate Holy Captain Ad-Hoc, Rabbi Aharon Barak, may he live long, poured water on their hands)].
A. Non-halakhic lessons.
D. No. A dispute over why it cannot happen: because the conditions are hard to fulfill, or because this is not a reasonable punishment.
I didn’t understand. After all, there are cases mentioned in the Mishnah and the Talmuds of actual executions: the daughter of a priest whom they surrounded with bundles of branches and burned, Rabbi Shimon ben Shetach (both regarding the witches and regarding the case where he executed his son on the testimony of false witnesses). How can one say that this was never actually carried out?
I noted that too. You have to read him inside to understand what his argument is.
With God’s help, 14 Tevet 5781
In the time of the Sages there usually was no danger to life in a fire, because there were no multi-story buildings. The houses were one or two stories, and before the fire spread one could escape.
Discussion of danger to life began mainly in the Middle Ages, when Jews were forced to live crowded together in the ghetto into which they were packed, and also in places where the houses were made of wood, where fires spread with great speed. Nowadays there is also the danger that the fire will reach places with high voltage, in which case there is great danger to life.
With blessings, Zerachiah Yosef HaLevi Dvortzky
In the time of the Sages there was an effective way to stop a fire by means of jugs full of water, so that when the fire reached them the water would extinguish it. It was a method that was no drop in the bucket, but actually held water 🙂
In the Middle Ages, in some places there was danger מצד the authorities, who would punish with death the person from whose house the destructive fire had broken out.
With blessings, Zid"h
Line 1–2
… who would punish with death whoever it was from whose house the fire had broken out…
With God’s help, 15 Tevet 5781
In one of my responses to the column on "the shtreimel policy," I questioned Rashi, who explained "and in a time of danger he places it on his table and that is enough" as referring to the danger from fire-worshippers who forbade lighting a lamp in a private house. But this danger began only in the days of the amoraim, "when the Chaverim came to Babylonia," and did not yet exist in the tannaitic period.
And I suggested that the "danger" spoken of in the baraita is the danger of fire in a crowded place. A danger that intensified in the Middle Ages when most Jews were crowded into dense neighborhoods, and apparently still exists today in crowded apartment blocks, where any child running in the stairwell may bump into the Hanukkah lamp burning outside the entrance to the home.
With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner
With God’s help, 15 Tevet 5781
The right of the head of the family to decree death upon his rebellious son or family member was accepted in the ancient world. Thus Judah decrees death upon his daughter-in-law who committed harlotry, and thus Reuben, who says to his father, "You may put my two sons to death if I do not bring him back to you," assumes that Jacob as head of the family can put his grandsons to death for their father’s failure.
Dr. Yitzhak Keister (in his article "Parents’ Rights over Their Children, in Hebrew Law and in the Laws of the Nations," on the Da’at website) notes that among the ancient Greeks, Chinese, Germans, and Arabs, the father was entitled to put his son/daughter to death even without guilt. In Rome this right was preserved with limitations—justified guilt on the son’s part and the approval of a "family council"—until 365 CE!
The Torah does not frontalally abolish this deeply rooted "parental right," but introduces three substantial limitations that make it impossible to implement: prior warning is required—"his father and his mother shall discipline him"; the mother’s consent is required—"his father and his mother shall seize him" (which is unlikely to happen); and after all this the parents are not permitted to render judgment—only "the elders of his city." The parents are not the "judges," but only plaintiffs in need of the court’s approval.
The Torah made a similar move with the "blood avenger," who is required to turn to the court and is not permitted to "take the law into his own hands" until the court authorizes it.
With blessings, Aner Eshkol Fishel-Workheimer
All of this is a homiletic gloss. The plain meaning of the Gemara (the baraita) is that the moment Rabbi Yonatan came and testified that he saw it and sat on its grave, this becomes a case of "if it is a tradition, we accept it," and not "if it is a logical inference, there is a refutation"—and the halakhah follows him (and everyone accepted his words). That is why he is brought last in all these baraitot. To say that this is a "literary expression etc." sounds to me very much like ignorance. That is, excuses and forced interpretations. Or a nice homily. I also do not know why capital punishments by the court ceased. It simply seems that as long as there was a Sanhedrin, there were also court-imposed executions. And the Sanhedrin ceased around the middle of the fifth century CE, long after these tannaim. This whole discussion is suspect to me as influenced by sociologizing halakhah and importing foreign values into it from outside (or, if you prefer, anachronizing halakhah—seeing it through modern eyes). It really seems that in the ancient world, at least in the biblical period and probably also in the time of the Sages, there was no moral problem with executing a stubborn and rebellious son even though he is killed on account of his future, or over a tartemar of meat, etc. One simply has to understand Rabbi Shimon, that’s all. From the Bible’s standpoint it does not seem that there were any purely theoretical laws. And how the Oral Torah is contained within the "biblical halakhah" really does need to be explained well, not by searching for excuses and forced readings. If someone has a moral problem with the halakhah, then he has two verses that contradict one another and should wait for the third verse to decide between them. But a real third verse—a good explanation of how the halakhah is indeed moral, or alternatively how it overrides morality, or that what we think is not really the halakhah—not nice little homilies.
With God’s help, 15 Tevet 5781
To Emanuel—greetings,
In the Gemara (Sanhedrin 41, Avodah Zarah 8) it is explained that forty years before the destruction of the Second Temple, the Sanhedrin left the Chamber of Hewn Stone and sat in the shops so that they would not have to judge capital cases. Since Rabbi Yonatan was among the disciples of Rabbi Yishmael and Rabbi Akiva, who lived after the Bar Kokhba revolt—there is no way he saw a stubborn and rebellious son literally.
In Ketubot 30 it says that after the destruction of the Temple, capital cases ceased, and Tosafot explain that during the forty years before the destruction they ceased judging capital cases regularly, except in special cases. But even according to Tosafot, after the destruction of the Second Temple capital cases ceased entirely. Thus, sixty years before Rabbi Yonatan’s time, capital cases had ceased.
The apostate city could exist only when the people of Israel had independent rule—that is to say, no later than 63 BCE, two hundred years before Rabbi Yonatan!
Moreover: Rabbi Yonatan was a priest (see his entry in Aharon Heyman’s Toledot Tannaim VeAmoraim), and there is no way he sat on the grave of a stubborn and rebellious son. Even the requirement of "his father and his mother shall seize him" makes the stubborn and rebellious son an obviously unworkable possibility. What "Jewish mother" would demand that her son be put to death for gluttony and wine-drinking?
In short: although we do find in the sources descriptions of executions being carried out, we find no description whatsoever, neither of a stubborn and rebellious son nor of an apostate city, and that cries out for explanation.
With blessings, Aner Eshkol Fishel Brok"a
The Torah explains: "So you shall purge the evil from your midst, and all Israel shall hear and fear."
How is it possible to say of something the Torah sees as evil that it is not evil?
Are the Jews who died in the Holocaust and in wars and in exiles not bloodshed? Why did Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel not count them?
Maybe if they had carried out the law of the stubborn and rebellious son, all kinds of leaders who led to disasters would never have risen to power? I saw no discussion of that point.
Executing a stubborn and rebellious son is not a punishment for him. He is already dead.
There was no Sanhedrin that had the power to execute people, and everything was based on laws of fear in order to justify its actions.
And that is how one should understand the halakhah.
And even if the son has become so bad that even his parents want him to die, because from this boy they have only disgrace and shame, still the Torah requires them to say openly: "This son of ours," and to take responsibility for him…
At the time, Rabbi Lior Engelman wrote that at the very moment when the parents are required to say of the shame of their lives, "This son of ours," something cracks in the wall of alienation and hatred. Who knows how long it had been since they had said a kind word to him, and suddenly they have to utter the forgotten words, "This son of ours," and remember…
He remembers that once he saw in them his loving parents; they remember the happy days when this was their sweet child. Perhaps at this stage, at the last moment, their forgotten love will awaken, and instead of sending him to the stoning grounds, the parents will fall upon their son’s neck and embrace him… and together they will go home to a new life…
With blessings, Akiva Yosef HaLevi Radetzky
In paragraph 1, line 1
… so bad that even…
With regard to the stubborn and rebellious son, this is not so difficult, and in fact it is not difficult regarding the apostate city either. Rabbi Yonatan said this when he was old (he was an elderly disciple of Rabbi Akiva). There are 63 years between the destruction of the Second Temple and the Bar Kokhba revolt. Rabbi Akiva’s disciples were already alive then. So it is definitely possible that he saw the execution of a stubborn and rebellious son when he was a boy. That is a much better forced interpretation than saying he is speaking in literary language. Why he sat if he was a priest is a good question, but it does not exactly constitute decisive proof. With regard to the apostate city, it is not clear why we need to have been under independent rule. As far as I remember, its execution does not require the existence of a king. Nor did all Israel have to go up against it to war, because perhaps it was a small city. In any case, these are at most difficulties, but not ones sufficient to take Rabbi Yonatan’s words out of their plain meaning.
Oh, come on. Of all people, Rabbi Yonatan happened to come across both a stubborn and rebellious son and an apostate city (interesting why he didn’t also sit on the ruins of a leprous house), and nobody else heard of it or saw it. What, is an apostate city the Higgs boson, that you need an entire institute to look for it? If such a thing had happened, we would know when it was, which sages decided it, what the city’s name was, which idolatry they worshiped, and whether the street stalls there sold lentil stew or baked meal-offerings. Obviously, in his view this is a literary expression. And because of your strange insistence that in the time of the Sages there was no moral problem at all with the stubborn and rebellious son, you—with interpretive integrity worthy of a medal of honor—leave Rabbi Shimon unresolved, even though he explicitly marveled how this one could be killed over a poor tartemar of meat. Look at the laws in Rambam (Rebels ch. 7) and say that the Sages derived all this, or that tradition transmitted all this, without any connection to the moral problematic that there clearly is according to the plain meaning alone. It is fanatical fantasy to think that in their interpretations and derashot the Sages ignored value considerations (including moral ones), or to think that their morality was all that different from ours.
With God’s help, 15 Tevet 5781
Following the Maharal’s explanation (Novellae on Aggadah, Sanhedrin 71) that the "stubborn and rebellious son" symbolizes the people of Israel who fell by the sword, and the apostate city symbolizes Jerusalem that was destroyed—it may be said that the comparison to the stubborn and rebellious son, who is judged on account of his future, is fitting, since at that time the condition of the people of Israel was much better than in the days of the destruction of the First Temple, when they sinned with sexual immorality, idolatry, and bloodshed. Rather, they were judged for baseless hatred, on account of the "slippery slope" by which this evil trait could in the end "conjure up" the corruptions of the First Temple..
With blessings, Dani Shnitzler-Radetzky
The Maharal in Netzach Yisrael writes that the fact that the destruction came as a result of a halakhic ruling by a decisor—"the humility of Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas"—teaches us that there was a divine seal upon the decree of destruction.
I once said that the concerns of Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas express the two great corruptions of that generation. On the one hand stood the Christians, who disparaged the fine points of halakhah and were prepared from the outset to permit offering blemished animals on the altar. On the other hand stood the extreme zealots, whose "hand was quick on the trigger" and who were ready to kill a person even for a sin that does not carry the death penalty.
Without being aware that his ruling would lead to the destruction of the Temple, Rabbi Zechariah was right. A society living in an atmosphere without proportion, where one can without justified cause uproot halakhah or take human life, must first heal itself in order to be worthy of the Divine Presence.
What do you want? This is testimony among tannaim. It is indeed strange, but certainly not "obviously this is a literary way of speaking, etc." The reality was after the Bar Kokhba revolt and also after the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students, when the world was desolate until he came and taught our rabbis in the south, etc. That is, the reality of Torah scholars was rare. Beyond that, the archaeological history in the Land from before the destruction of the Temple was destroyed by the Romans. It is plausible that within a small circle of tannaim there would be one old man who would testify before his younger colleagues about realities that existed before the destruction of the Temple and that none of them knew. Morality in the time of the Sages was indeed somewhat different from that of the Bible, but it was much closer to the biblical period than to ours. And being stubborn and rebellious was serious business then (you can read about it in the Prophets). The Sages only deepened the point by saying that he is judged on account of his future, but in the biblical period presumably they did not need to deepen it into that derash; there was only the plain sense, and that was enough. The same applies to "an eye for an eye," etc. The Sages saw this as derash—something anchored in the verses themselves and also true from the time of Moses our teacher. It is just that apparently "eye" in ancient legal Hebrew could really be interpreted both as money and as an actual eye, and the Sages said that the first meaning was the original interpretation. All these claims that the Sages changed the Torah—the hard core of its laws—according to morality are not serious. They turn the Torah into a joke. Someone who believes that has no reason to study Torah. In any case he will do whatever he believes in. So why force it into the Torah? Just do what you believe in. Incidentally, I do not believe the world is really more moral today. It is more refined. It is like the cat trained to wait tables, who the moment he sees a mouse will throw everything down and chase after it.
With God’s help, 16 Tevet 5781
To Emanuel—greetings,
You are invited to find historical testimony of executions of a "stubborn and rebellious son" among the people of Israel.
I know of a "proof to the contrary."
King David, whose son Absalom rebelled against him not over "a tartemar of meat and half a log of wine," but rather sought to kill his father (as David says: "Here is my son, who came forth from my body, seeks my life," and as Ahithophel proposes to Absalom: "and I will strike down the king…" and Absalom agrees)..
Yet when David defeats his rebellious son, he commands the officers of his army: "Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom," and when David hears that his son who sought his life has been killed, he cries out and weeps: "My son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! If only I had died in your stead, Absalom, my son, my son!"
And King David, as is well known, was not exactly a "bleeding-heart vegetarian" 🙂 and knew how to kill enemies and rebels. But in the face of his son, who rebelled against him and sought to kill him—the father’s heart broke. So go and find, in the biblical period, a father and mother who would send their gluttonous and drunken son to the stoning grounds.
We do have one historical testimony about a Jewish king who executed his sons serially on suspicion that they had conspired to rebel against him. Even the Roman Augustus wondered at this cruel behavior and said: "Better to be Herod’s pig than his son, for Herod does not kill his pig for reasons of kashrut…"
But Herod is the exception that proves nothing about the rule. He was a man sunk in madness, suspecting "the whole world and his wife" of seeking to kill him, and even he did not execute his sons except out of fear of rebellion.
With blessings, Ben-Zion Yohanan Korinaldi-Radetzky
And perhaps when Rabbi Yonatan says, "I saw it," he does not mean actual sight, but rather "seeing with the eyes of his spirit"—that indeed there were cases where a father sought to kill his son on suspicion of rebellion. Such as Herod, who executed his sons (and likewise Saul, who hurled a spear at his son Jonathan because he suspected him of being a partner in David’s supposed rebellion).
From such extreme cases Rabbi Yonatan learned that it is possible for a father to suspect his son to the point that he is willing to kill him. And although this is an extreme case of "an evil spirit terrifies him," the Torah still left an opening for the realization of the father’s will, provided that the mother and the court stand with him.
Now that we have come to Saul, who sought to put his son to death—it can be said that the "apostate city" was Nob, the city of priests, which was completely destroyed because Saul suspected them of being partners in a conspiracy with David.
Last paragraph, line 2
… that the "apostate city" was Nob, the city of the priests, which was destroyed…
I don’t understand what you’re saying needs to be…
Are you really looking for proof? Is David proof of anything? Nobody in the biblical period was a bleeding heart. And with David too we saw that he had a tendency not to hurt his sons even when it was needed (Amnon, Adonijah). The case of Absalom is indeed a classic case, and one can very well assume that in such a situation there were parents who understood that their child had no hope (have you never seen horror movies about evil children, whom the parents pity while they go on murdering people? Apparently there is such a thing as children who are beyond hope). I can testify to you that the worst people I have known in my life were children (they excel especially in cruelty, contrary to their image among adults. Around adults they make a cute face, but they will devour one another). And everything I said is intensified all the more in the ancient world, which was especially cruel; so certainly there were such children then (and also cruel parents, or alternatively wise and responsible ones).
Think about the fact that the Holy One, blessed be He, had to command the Israelites not to sacrifice their children as human sacrifices (as with the king of Edom and the Canaanite peoples). And that too is ultimately what happened (and the Holy One, blessed be He, accused them of becoming even worse and more abominable in their deeds than the Canaanite peoples and the surrounding nations, and even Sodom). See Ezekiel and Jeremiah. So in your eyes the stubborn and rebellious son is really something negligible?
With God’s help, 16 Tevet 5781
With regard to what I wrote above (in the comment—"The law of the stubborn and rebellious son: a legal revolution in the ancient world") that the innovation of the Torah in the law of the stubborn and rebellious son is precisely the curbing of the father’s right to judge members of his family, for the Torah’s innovation is that the father needs the consent of the mother and of "the elders of his city," and is not permitted to be the "supreme judge" of his family.
In light of this insight, the context is very clear. The section of the stubborn and rebellious son is the fitting continuation of the section of the "beautiful captive woman," which greatly reduced the right of the captor over his captive. Likewise, the section "he may not prefer the son of the beloved wife over the firstborn son of the hated wife" almost completely curbs the father’s right to bequeath to his sons as he wishes.
In all three sections, the father learns that he is not the all-powerful ruler over his family; rather, he, his wife, and his children together are subject to the law of the Torah that binds them all.
With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner
And perhaps one may say that the son’s rebellion comes from his feeling that his parents are "dictators" dropping restrictive commands on him.
His correction comes when he sees that his parents too, despite all their justified anger at their defiant son, must stand with him before the elders and wait, in submission and humility, for their ruling.
The parents’ admission, too—"This son of ours"—expresses their acceptance of responsibility for the son’s corrupt behavior. The parents admit: "This son of ours, and we too have some share in his deterioration."
In returning to submission to the Torah and its teachers, both the parents and the son internalize that all of us live within a binding framework. There are no "rulers and ruled," but rather people ready to listen to elders older than themselves, who themselves attained their stature by listening to elders older than they.
Instead of to the house of stoning, the youth will return to the house of learning…
With blessings, Akiva Yosef HaLevi Radetzky
In paragraph 2, line 2
… in submission and humility to the ruling…
Paragraph 1, line 2
… a lamp in a private house. But…
A very interesting article, thank you very much.
Regarding Gehenna—if it is declarative, then it loses all its deterrent force; at the end of the day, we now know there is no retribution. So how is the deterrence achieved conceptually—perhaps only for people who have not delved into it and have not yet thought about it?
Why create implausible criteria in interpretation, instead of simply saying that this is a declarative halakhah (and that the ruling is not to act accordingly)?
And regarding laws that were implemented in the past within a different value system, but today are "the law, but the ruling is not to act accordingly"—do these examples not pose a difficulty for the eternity of the Torah? That is, does it not seem reasonable to us that commandments from God that are implementable should remain implementable throughout the generations?
There you go—you yourself don’t know, so there is deterrence.
Tactically too, that is not correct, because part of the deterrence is achieved by its seeming implementable. Torah scholars know it is not. And substantively too, the derashot themselves are not just made up. This really does emerge from the verses (through the tools of derash). Scripture itself tells us in this way that the halakhah is not for implementation.
Not at all. Prophecy ceased, and so did sacrifices. Does that mean the halakhah is not eternal? If things change back, then they too will again become implementable.
Actually, I understood from the rabbi’s words regarding Gehenna that we really did learn that it does not occur, and there is no deterrence for those who studied this. At least, that is the conclusion I drew from this distinction.
Regarding impracticable derashot: are all of them explained by the rules of derash? And among those that are, was one obligated to apply the rules of derash here, or did the Sages choose to apply them here, whereas in other places they chose not to, even though they could have?
I saw that Prof. Moshe Halbertal in his book demonstrates how at times less plausible interpretations were adopted for purely value-based reasons, without specifically using the hermeneutic principles, according to some of the views in the discussion (about the stubborn and rebellious son, the apostate city, the sotah, a girl who committed harlotry in her father’s house, and more).
Could that be the explanation for some of the impracticability of these laws?
As for prophecy and sacrifices—that is exactly the point. It really is strange to me that things so fundamental in the Torah (perhaps even most of the commandments? I haven’t checked..) are not relevant to the life of a worshipper of God today. But I understand that there is no contradiction here and no negation of the truth of the Torah—only a divine choice to reveal itself in a way that very much challenges believers in Torah from Heaven after many generations… perhaps the rabbi could share his thoughts about this?
A question regarding declarative Gehenna.
Let us say that I too turned this idea over and over about 10 years ago and also reached the simple conclusion that if the Holy One, blessed be He, is good, then there is no punishment in the World to Come, because it has no purpose whatsoever (except that I see no reason to resort to the far-fetched hypothesis that He is good). And plainly, no component of punishment should be retribution; only deterrence, prevention, and emotional revenge that psychologically eases the victim. But for my part, I do not have this categorical-command business. But according to you, who do have it, I ask: does the categorical imperative not imply that God really will carry out the punishment? This may sound to you like Purim pilpul (or for Tisha B’Av; as far as I am concerned, I am writing seriously).
Why? If I understand your reasoning correctly regarding accepting a categorical imperative as morally binding—for example in the prisoner’s dilemma (the categorical imperative obligates each of them not to inform on his fellow)—it works like this: clearly we would be happy if there were a categorical imperative, therefore a wise and good legislator would legislate a categorical imperative, therefore surely God, who is a wise and good legislator, made sure to legislate the categorical imperative. But it is not that you identify the categorical norm directly as a fitting moral norm (as one identifies, say, the norm "do not cause suffering"). If so, then in exactly the same way we would also be happy if God were bound to punish in actuality. Because only then would there truly be a real threat of punishment that would spur people (even intelligent people) to avoid sins. Therefore God will bind Himself, and clearly He will carry it out. True, the specific act of punishing So-and-so has no point, but God would want there to be a general law obligating punishment of all the So-and-sos, and therefore there is such a law.
My questions:
A. Is it correct that you accept the categorical imperative in morality because, in your view, there is a legislator with a view about morality—namely the Holy One, blessed be He—and otherwise you would not?
B. (Not necessarily dependent on an affirmative answer to question A) Is it correct that a categorical imperative obligates the Holy One, blessed be He, to punish in Gehenna?
With God’s help, 13 Shevat 5781
To T.G.—greetings,
Reward and punishment in the World of Truth is not external to the soul, but rather a person’s awareness of the true state of his soul. If a person discovers that his life passed in vain—the "downer" will be terrible; and if he discovers that he used his time properly—there will be immense and eternal satisfaction.
With blessings, Ami’oz Yaron Shnitzler
The hermeneutic principles are not mathematics, and part of the application is connected to reasoning. Incidentally, this is true of all interpretation (which is composed of textual-literal considerations + reasoning). But clearly there must be a basis for it in the methods of derash.
This really does sound like pilpul. I do not think the Holy One, blessed be He, is supposed to be subject to the categorical imperative, if only because everything He does is a general law. Human beings are supposed to examine their actions by asking whether it would be fitting for all human beings to act this way. But the Holy One, blessed be He, is not in the human game (He would have to ask whether all gods should behave this way). Similarly, we would not expect a king to behave like every other person. He has a unique role as opposed to other people, and therefore they should not be treated as equal or with identical expectations.
But even if we apply the categorical imperative to Him, perhaps the general rule is that such promises (whose fulfillment is not visible to the eye and serves no purpose) should be tossed into the air and not fulfilled.
As I wrote above, the threat of punishment is sufficient (when it is not clear that it will not be carried out) to achieve the effect. Therefore the categorical imperative too does not require more than that.
A. I accept the validity of morality by virtue of the Holy One, blessed be He, but the content of morality arises from the very definition of morality as good. It is hard to relate to that as legislation in its own right.
B. See above.
Although your words contain an answer, let me ask more sharply, if I may. The categorical imperative in the prisoner’s dilemma—without it there is a paradoxical predicament, and the imperative solves that problem. The question is whether you directly identify that the imperative binds, and as a side effect notice how nicely the predicament is solved. Or whether the predicament itself is the reason to think that the categorical imperative probably binds (because the legislator of obligations is not stupid). I call the second possibility "the imperative as valve."
You are making too sharp a distinction. As I explained regarding pragmatism, there is also an intermediate possibility: the fact that there is a predicament is an indication that the categorical imperative is correct. Note well—not that I adopt it without justification just because of the predicament, but that the predicament is the indication that it is correct (and not only that it is needed).
In other words: I identify directly that it binds, and the "how nice" of solving the predicament is further reinforcement for that identification.
For the purposes of what I am trying to say, there is no difference between a reason and an indication, because in both cases a predicament goes together with a categorical imperative. But you are saying here that you identify it directly, and the solving of the predicament is only additional confirmation—and that is something that genuinely had not occurred to me (and I still need to think it over).
And what about Gehenna? Is there no predicament there at all (the predicament is God’s—unfortunately He cannot threaten punishment because nobody will believe Him that He will actually punish, and therefore people may commit sins), because in practice people fear the possibility that God may indeed punish, or simply have not thought about the argument? Or is there a predicament, but since there is no direct identification there of an obligation to punish, the predicament by itself does not amount to much?
I understand from your words that it is both: there is also not such a great predicament (because in practice people are afraid), and also that a predicament by itself is not much. Did I summarize correctly?
Correct summary. With a cautionary note about applying the categorical imperative to the Holy One, blessed be He.
Thank you. Actually, I would like, if I may, to clarify a bit more. I’ll split it into sections even though they are not really separate, so it will be clear what the answer refers to.
A. Everyone agrees that categorical imperatives are an important and desirable thing, and if it were possible to choose whether there would be such imperatives or not—everyone would choose that there be. For example, in the examples you gave about voting in elections, or resisting Stalin, or the prisoner’s dilemma. Rather, one who thinks there is no such imperative simply thinks (regretfully) that there is no such imperative. Therefore, according to everyone, if there is some third party who rules globally, then he must legislate laws and impose sanctions according to categorical imperatives. Correct?
B. Why is the predicament not a sufficient reason/indication even without direct identification? If there is a rational legislator for principles, why would he not legislate such a principle in order to get rid of predicaments? Or why would he leave a system with holes that he can easily plug? If you say that a predicament is not a sufficient indication, I understand from that that there is no rational being who can legislate binding laws.
[C. And why am I pestering you about this? Because I do not "directly" identify the categorical imperative as something substantial, but I do understand that it is a very successful valve for predicaments. Therefore, if I conclude that morality is connected in some way to the Holy One, blessed be He (I have a hard time accepting your approach on this), and that it is in His power to decide what morality will contain (I am uncertain about that too), then I will indeed accept that categorical imperatives are binding.]
I don’t understand the prolongation of the discussion.
A. Completely agreed. But if the legislator imposes such an imperative, then there is such an imperative.
B. As above. Indeed, the predicament is an indication that a rational legislator would legislate such a law, and therefore there is such a law and it is valid.
C. In light of what I noted about the two previous sections, I don’t understand what is written here.
And so Rabbeinu Yonah writes in his commentary to Avot 3:1:
"And before whom you are destined to give judgment and accounting… for how can a person sin if he thinks before whom he is destined to give judgment and accounting… for he will be greatly ashamed. By way of parable: when a person enters before a king, if the king finds him deceitful in his deeds or false in his words—will he not be greatly ashamed? How much more so before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.
Also, when the soul is ashamed after parting from the body—that shame is greater than shame while it was still there, because the nature of the body causes forgetting… for the nature of forgetfulness in the body mingles with the nature of the soul, and though it cannot overcome it so as to make it forget entirely, at any rate it overcomes it enough to make the matter grow old, which is somewhat like forgetting and removes most of the shame.
But when the soul is alone—there is no forgetting before it, for it is wholly pure and clear, and no physical nature whatsoever is within it. And when it is ashamed, and when it is ashamed before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He—it will stand forever and ever in that shame, just as at that very hour when it stood before Him; and just as it was that time, so it will stand ashamed forever."
That is to say: consciousness in the World to Come will be truth without any possibility of denial, repression, or dulling the feeling of shame, and this is a very difficult sensation. In a similar vein, the Maharal writes in several places that "Gehinnom" is "privation." How hard is the feeling of a proud and honored person when suddenly "the penny drops" and he discovers that all the air has gone out of his balloon.
And of course, in the measure of the good being greater, how much happiness and satisfaction there will be for a person to discover how much pleasure his good deeds brought to his Creator. May it be His will that we merit to walk in ways of uprightness and delight in the shade of the garden.
With blessings, Ami’oz Yaron Shnitzler
One very last time and that’s it (final_file_really_last_1.docx, as I live and breathe).
So if we assume that God really does have a predicament with the problem that He cannot impose punishments (in another world where all people think this reasoning is correct and God has no point in punishing), would He, as a rational legislator, legislate for Himself an obligation to obey an imperative that forces Him to punish, and therefore punish? People would understand that this is how it would be fitting for Him to legislate for Himself; therefore presumably He did legislate that for Himself, and therefore they would avoid sins. When they reach the World to Come, God would punish them—not because there is utility in it, but because that is the imperative He legislated for Himself. (The general imperative solves a predicament, but its concrete implementation in a particular person or a particular act solves no predicament at all, and such implementation is always done for its own sake.)
With God’s help, 15 Shevat 5781
To T.G.—greetings,
Indeed, the Holy One, blessed be He, is in a predicament, because punishment for sin is not an external punishment but a reality in which the soul stands in shame as it gazes, with a gaze of truth, at what it has blemished and corrupted; and in the World of Truth there is only truth.
But "Good and upright is the Lord; therefore He instructs sinners in the way." The attribute of uprightness does not allow one to give up on the truth, but the attribute of goodness brings the possibility of correcting sin through repentance: recognizing the sin, regretting it, and resolving for the future. Then repentance helps transform deliberate sins into inadvertent ones, and if it is "repentance out of love," the deliberate sins are transformed into merits.
And even when there was no repentance, the sufferings of body and soul that a person undergoes in this world and in the World to Come combine to cleanse the soul so that "none cast away shall remain cast away." But it is infinitely preferable that the correction come through the person’s own inner initiative, so that he may merit to delight in the Lord "in the shade of My garden."
With blessings, see there
I never understood how it could be that one tanna says that the stubborn and rebellious son never was and never will be, while another says that he saw a case where it actually happened.