The Role and Authority of the Mara De-Atra (Column 393)
Yesterday I was sent a article about problematic conduct by the rabbi of Moshav Nehalim, who forbade Rabbi Ilay Ofran (the rabbi of Kibbutz Yavneh) from giving a lecture in the moshav, and in effect demanded that the lecture be held outside the public buildings (I assume because he has no authority to forbid a lecture in the open air). Rabbi Ofran deals quite extensively with safeguarding against sexual harassment and abuse, primarily in the religious community, and in that framework several residents of Nehalim invited him to present the topic and its implications in their moshav. Rabbi Greenwald apparently didn’t like the topic, and from his words it seems he liked the speaker even less (according to the article he even attached some unflattering descriptions to him, though he himself denied this). In any case, the statements quoted in the interview don’t look like the pinnacle of proper collegial respect toward a fellow rabbi (which is fine by me in principle—see a note at the end of the column).
I should note that this is not the first such case I’ve heard of, in which the rabbi of a religious (non-Haredi) locality behaves in a manner common in the Haredi public (in the negative sense): prohibitions on women’s prayer (even at separate times and places), demands regarding the form of prayer in a minyan, and other bans on things he happens not to like (most of which have no halakhic problem at all, and in others there are disagreements and one might reasonably argue). This raises the question of how one ought to relate to the local rabbi, and in particular to such conduct. The basis for the discussion is the status and authority of a community rabbi or mara de-atra, and therefore I’ll begin with that.
Authority in Halakhah
More than once I have distinguished between two types of authority: formal and substantive. Formal authority is granted to a person or institution by virtue of what it is. The Knesset or the Supreme Court has formal authority, since what they determine is binding, regardless of whether they are right or not. Substantive authority, by contrast, is the authority of an expert, like a physician. There is no obligation to obey him, but common sense tells us to give weight to his words because he is knowledgeable and experienced. Substantive authority is not truly authority, since there is no obligation to obey an expert, and one who does not obey him is not committing an offense, and of course no one can lodge a claim against him. He is simply behaving irrationally. Moreover, when a person examines matters carefully and concludes that despite the expertise, in a particular case the expert erred, it is reasonable and even called for that he not heed the expert in that case (something that should not happen with formal authority, except in extreme cases). So why do I call this “authority”? Because here too I accept things because of who said them, as opposed to a case in which someone convinced me on the merits and therefore I accepted his words.
Now, the position of the Sefer HaChinuch (mitzvah command) is that formal authority by virtue of “you shall not deviate” (lo tasur) is given to every sage at all times. True, in the mitzvah heading he writes:
That we not rebel against the ruling of the Great Court that shall stand for Israel.
At first glance he speaks only of the Great Court (=the Sanhedrin). But at the end of his words there he writes:
This mitzvah applies with regard to the rebellious elder (a rebellious elder) in Temple times; and regarding our obligation to heed the words of our early sages and our greats in Torah wisdom and the judges of our generation—it applies in every place and at all times, to men and women.
Here he broadens it to all Torah sages in every generation.
But this is a lone view and, in my understanding, quite implausible. From the verses, the Talmud, and the halakhic decisors it emerges clearly that formal authority in halakhah is given only to the Sanhedrin and is grounded in the verse “you shall not deviate” (at least according to the Rambam. I won’t enter here into his dispute with the Ramban regarding the source of authority for rabbinic laws). If we are not dealing with the Sanhedrin but with the sages of every generation, who determines the persons or the body to whom the authority is entrusted? Whence is it derived? In his opinion, is there a law of zaken mamre (rebellious elder) against one who rebels against a court that is not the Sanhedrin? Certainly not. It is very hard to accept that the authority of a contemporary sage is “top-down” authority (i.e., from the Holy One, via the command “you shall not deviate”—below I will define “bottom-up” authority). Because of all these difficulties, one might say that even the Sefer HaChinuch agrees that formal authority is given only to the Sanhedrin, and that here he is speaking of substantive, not formal, authority.[1]
Note that this is authority granted “from above,” i.e., from God via Moses and subsequently through the process of ordination and appointment to the Sanhedrin (samukh mi-pi samukh). There is no stage in this process in which the public is involved.[2] This is not the case in a democracy, where authority comes “from below.” Regarding formal halakhic authority, it would seem the public has nothing to say. But that is not entirely accurate. For example, the authority of the Talmud is accepted as formal authority, even though the Amoraim were not ordained and of course did not sit in the Sanhedrin. It is customary to base the authority of the Talmud on the acceptance and consent of the public (see Kesef Mishneh, end of chapter 2 of Hilkhot Mamrim, and Beit Yishai – Derashot by R. Shimon Fischer, §15). If this is indeed the basis, then we can see here a “bottom-up” authorization that receives formal force. The words of the Talmud are binding not because they are always correct (presumably they are not; we are all human), but because the Talmud received a canonical, binding status in halakhah. An interesting question is what underlies this mechanism, and to the best of my recollection R. Fischer ties it to the standing at Sinai (there, too, we received the Torah “from below,” by our consent). I note that, as in other cases, the source of these ideas is R. Kook (R. Fischer—like quite a few of Jerusalem’s Haredi greats—somehow tends not to put that on the table).
In any case, the great early authorities and decisors (see at length the Rosh, Sanhedrin ch. 4 §6, whose conclusions are also brought in the Shulchan Arukh §25. See also my article on autonomy and authority in halakhic decision-making, and a related discussion in column 304) have already pointed out that all post-Talmudic sages do not possess formal authority; at most they have substantive authority. They are halakhic experts. This means there is no obligation to heed them—great as they may be—though their words certainly carry significant weight. A person can conclude that, in a given matter, it seems to him they erred or that their words do not pertain to him—his time, place, and circumstances—and act differently from what they rule. If he erred, he will answer before God, but there is no claim against him merely for deviating from their words. This is certainly true regarding non-halakhic pronouncements—matters of outlook or other domains. In such matters, halakhic sages (in my view, halakhah is the only field in which there is distinct Torah expertise) do not even have substantive authority, since it is doubtful to what extent “expertise” applies in such realms (to my mind, it does not), and even more doubtful to what extent the experts in those fields are the halakhic scholars, rabbis, or decisors (again, in my view, they are not).
Beyond all this, note that substantive authority does not depend on public acceptance or any formal procedure. If a person is an expert, he is an expert. This is a factual question, not a matter of public recognition, and the like. Therefore there is no comparison between the authority of a post-Talmudic decisor and formal authority by virtue of “you shall not deviate,” or even the authority of the Talmud.
Mara De-Atra
The mara de-atra is a hybrid creature, and it is unclear where he sits on this map. As a sage of our time (assuming he is a sage; not all are), he has substantive authority as an expert. But in this he is no different from other sages of our generation. However, it is commonly thought that at least vis-à-vis the people of his locale he also has formal authority. His words to them are not merely advice or an expert opinion; he has authority to decide and rule for his congregants. Whence did this authority sprout for a person or body that is not the Sanhedrin?
One thing is clear: this has nothing to do with “you shall not deviate,” for, as we saw, that verse deals only with the Sanhedrin. I think the only reasonable explanation is that it stems from the acceptance of the public (not all Israel, but the members of his community). In other words, the authority of the mara de-atra is founded on the community’s consent to accept his directives and fulfill them. This is “bottom-up” authority, and it is apparently grounded in the law of contracts. There is a contract between him and the public, by virtue of which they accept upon themselves his authority and directives, irrespective of whether he is right, and regardless of the fact that there are other halakhic sages greater than he. This is akin to the mechanism of “they accepted upon themselves” (kiblu alei-hu), by which the public—or two litigants—can accept upon themselves a judge or a witness who would otherwise be disqualified by law. That mechanism, too, apparently operates under the law of contracts.[3]
Implications
If so, the authority of the mara de-atra is very similar to the authority of the Talmud, but with one fundamental difference: here there is a contract, and a contract has two parties—and both are still with us. This has several implications:
- The authority of the sages is granted “from above,” i.e., from God, and therefore it is not conditioned on public consent (see a reservation below). But with respect to “bottom-up” authority, logic dictates that “the mouth that forbade is the mouth that permits.” Therefore, even regarding the Talmud: if all Israel decided it no longer accepts its directives, its authority would indeed lapse. But for that one would need a consensus of all Israel (or all the sages of Israel; see Rambam, Hilkhot Sanhedrin 4:11). Likewise, regarding a community rabbi, his standing depends on the consent of the public who chose him, and the public can, of course, decline to consent. For the Talmud this is rather hypothetical, while for a community rabbi it is entirely practical.
- Moreover, authority is granted to the mara de-atra only in areas for which he received a mandate (it is reasonable that not for internal, private matters, but only for the public affairs of the community). The flip side actually benefits the mara de-atra: he may have been given authority also in matters of leadership and not only in purely halakhic issues, and in this his authority is broader than that of the Talmud. This depends on the contract between him and the community (which is not always written explicitly and sometimes must be inferred implicitly).
- Beyond this, a private individual can say that, with all due respect to the community rabbi, he has other rabbis (his personal ones—including the rabbi he meets in the mirror every morning—were it not for the issue of a woman’s implement on a man, of course), and therefore, at least in his personal domain, he is not obligated to comply with the mara de-atra’s directives.
- As an extension of the previous point, this contract does not necessarily override every other consideration, and certainly not the truth. If a person concludes (by himself or after consulting other rabbis) that the community rabbi is mistaken, then while the contract obligates obedience to his directives, truth obligates not to do so. In such a case there is a conflict, and—as annoying as conflicts are—they always have two sides. Therefore, the conduct required in such a situation is not necessarily compliance with the rabbi’s orders.
Conclusions
In light of the above, the public’s obligation to obey the directives of the mara de-atra in situations like those described in the opening is anything but obvious. In the course of deliberating, the community should decide on several planes: (a) Do these directives belong to halakhah (even if the rabbi says they do—rabbis typically do not insist on distinguishing between halakhah and what lies outside it; it’s very convenient to neutralize potential criticism that way). (b) If it is outside halakhah, is it included in the mandate given to the rabbi by virtue of the contract (explicitly or implicitly—sometimes one must look at the prevailing practice in communities of that type). (c) Finally, even if it is included in his mandate, is there not here a grave error that would justify even a breach of the contract. Take note.
I will conclude with two more general remarks.
The Rabbi’s Role
In part ten of the third book of my trilogy I argued that the role of the decisor (not necessarily a mara de-atra, but simply a sage who answers people’s questions) is not to determine the halakhic ruling. The decisor is a halakhic expert and, as such, provides halakhic counsel. His role is to convey halakhic information—that is, to point out the costs and implications of each course of action a person may choose. But the choice itself belongs to, and is imposed upon, them. They must weigh all the possible paths together with the price tag that comes with each and decide what they will do. In many cases there are several halakhic avenues, even if there is a hierarchy of preferences among them, and the decision of which to choose is entrusted to the person himself, not to the rabbi. I brought proofs there and explained the logic. I cited decisors who argued that a rabbi should present the questioner with all the options, including those he himself does not favor (R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach in Minchat Shlomo said this regarding rabbinic laws, while the Ketav Sofer wrote so even regarding Torah-level laws).
The conclusion is that, contrary to common belief, a rabbi does not “decide the halakhah” but rather advises the person and lays out the different options, and he is the one who decides. From here you can understand that people who come to a rabbi to “get a permit” (heter) simply misunderstand his role (and the rabbi who gives such permits likewise misunderstands his role). The rabbi cannot grant a permit. His words neither add nor subtract. What halakhah says does not depend on whether such-and-such “permits” are granted or not. The rabbi’s statement does not change the halakhah; therefore granting a permit does not add or subtract. If the leniency exists, one may be lenient even without the rabbi “permitting”; and if it does not exist, one may not be lenient even if the rabbi is lenient.
For example, a common situation is that a couple comes to a decisor to request a permit to postpone a pregnancy for various reasons. This is perhaps the most common context in which I’ve heard the expression “to get a permit.” But, as noted, this is a mistake. The rabbi can tell them how desirable or undesirable this is, what is permitted or forbidden halakhically, but the weighing of the different paths together with the couple’s personal situation can only be done by them. Only they know how important halakhah is to them, how great their distress is, and therefore only they can make the decision itself. For details, see my article here.
I can share from my personal experience that the figure closest to a rabbi whom I ever had was a Lithuanian (Litvish) man from Bnei Brak with whom I learned in yeshiva. I consulted with him often—certainly about learning but also about other questions—and over time it became clear to me that these consultations took on a different character from the norm. I didn’t come to ask for instructions, but to ask for help in thinking and decision-making. Only later did I realize that his conduct toward me was very different from what is common in Bnei Brak—and, I suspect, even for him. He advised me, according to my own approach, what would be wise to do and what to consider, but he didn’t give me orders (except where it was a clear case of forbidden and permitted). The best example I recall is during the elections to the 12th Knesset (1988), when the “Degel HaTorah” party was established by R. Shach, of blessed memory. At the time I was learning at “Netivot Olam” Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, a Lithuanian yeshiva under R. Shach’s presidency and guidance. R. Shach was anxious about the electoral threshold (the Lithuanians, who ran on their own as a separate party, were on the border), and courted anyone he could to get him to vote for them. I, a dyed-in-the-wool non-conformist, notified everyone, of course, that I was going to vote for Mafdal (which I had never done in my life to that point, and as far as I remember, not since either). R. Shach, who heard about this, invited me for a conversation (we had some personal connection). I didn’t go, because I knew that if I went and he instructed me to vote for Degel HaTorah, I would do so (in the end I voted for them even without that). But my point here is different. During my deliberations I spoke with that rabbi of mine and asked him what would happen in the Heavenly Court if, when I arrived there, they would come with the claim: why didn’t you vote for Mafdal? (I think both he and I restrained ourselves not to laugh in that conversation.) Would I be able to argue that I had received an instruction from R. Shach, and therefore the responsibility is his? He gave me a surprising answer: absolutely not. If I erred, the responsibility is mine. But it is reasonable to assume that R. Shach hits the truth more often than I (the “Da’at Torah” idea), and therefore it is nevertheless sensible and fitting to heed him. That was very surprising to me, especially coming from a Haredi Lithuanian rabbi. I think that was the first time I understood the rabbi’s role and the difference between substantive and formal authority. If you heeded a doctor and he erred—you will die. If you heeded the Knesset and it erred—you will not be judged, of course (aside from extreme cases like the Nazis at Nuremberg; see also Horayot 2b, “they erred in a commandment to heed the words of the sages,” and the commentaries). And what about a rabbi? He is apparently akin to a physician, not to the Knesset.
I tend to adopt this policy toward those who come to ask me. I do not decide and do not give orders. I am prepared to suggest what I think and try to help people make decisions. The responsibility and duty to decide is on the person himself, even if he is not a Torah scholar. I very much recommend that anyone serving as a mara de-atra of a community or locality adopt this healthy policy as well. His role is not to make decisions but to guide the public and individuals to make decisions correctly. His role is primarily guidance—i.e., providing halakhic information and assisting in decision-making. Sometimes there is no choice, and in issues under public dispute the rabbi may need to decide. But it is proper that he try to avoid this as much as possible. Incidentally, even where there is a dispute, the rabbi can express his opinion—or better: map the different options and then express it—and, in the end, leave it to the public to make decisions in their own way (a vote, community institutions, etc.). It seems to me that in most cases not only is this substantively correct, it is also tactically wiser.
Removal from Office
Finally, I can’t avoid an apt association that came to mind when I heard these things. As is known, the Gemara in Berakhot 27–28 (see also my article here) recounts the removal of Rabban Gamliel from his presidency. This occurred mainly because of cases in which he did not treat R. Yehoshua with respect. I won’t review the entire sequence since it is well known, but it is worth noting two important points.
- Rabban Gamliel was the Nasi of the Sanhedrin. That position is the apex of formal halakhic authority. Seemingly there is no way to touch him, for his authority is “from above” and not “from below,” and therefore there is no “mouth that forbade” calculation here. The public has no standing and nothing to say with regard to this. Moreover, in one of his disputes with R. Yehoshua the issue was the timing of Yom Kippur—that is, a matter pertaining to the calendar, something entrusted exclusively to the Nasi of the Sanhedrin, whose authority there is absolute (see Rosh Hashanah 25a, in that very context with R. Yehoshua): “It says ‘you’ three times—atem… you even if in error, you even if deliberate, you even if mistaken.” That is, what the Nasi determines regarding the calendar is the truth by definition. And yet this dispute was one of the grounds for Rabban Gamliel’s removal.
We learn from here that even where a person or institution possesses supreme formal authority, nothing is immune to the public. Bottom line: if the public decides, it can remove the Nasi of the Sanhedrin. You will ask: What is the source for this? From where did the sages derive the authority to do so? Seemingly they are violating a Torah-level positive command and prohibition of “you shall not deviate.” I do not know. Presumably from common sense. Where truth points the way, the formal consideration yields—even if we lack a clear source for it. We find this in many places in the Talmud (I have often commented on the Talmud’s attitude toward rules and its anarchic character).
- The ground for Rabban Gamliel’s removal was his attitude toward his colleagues. Beyond his conduct toward R. Yehoshua, after R. Elazar ben Azaryah replaced him, the benches in the study hall multiplied; the Gemara relates that Rabban Gamliel felt pangs of conscience for having barred entry to the study hall from those whose inside was not like their outside (in his opinion; see Berakhot 28a, and an interesting note in Yoma 72b). That is, the lack of respectful conduct toward colleagues and others was what constituted the basis for removing Rabban Gamliel.[4]
I will leave the conclusions and implications for the cases I described to the readers. And to the listener—may it be pleasant.
[1] It is the Sefer HaChinuch’s wont to make such extensions in other mitzvot as well. However, here the phrasing is different, since he includes this authority in his generic concluding section “this mitzvah applies…,” which implies he sees it as an integral part of the mitzvah.
[2] True, the consent (granting of permission) of the king or the Exilarch is required, as I explained in column 164.
[3] I am not dealing here with zabla (“Each side chooses one”), which is apparently part of the core law and unrelated to the “they accepted upon themselves” mechanism.
[4] I assume some readers are thinking to themselves: He (i.e., I) is talking about respectful conduct?! To that I say: then please, respectfully remove me as well. I intend here two distinct claims:
- I do not hold a public-rabbinic office—and not by accident. One central reason is my desire to preserve freedom of speech and thought without needing to behave according to the norms that bind a sitting rabbi (from several aspects).
- Moreover, I have no criticism of Nehalim’s rabbi for acting as he did. I of course completely disagree with him, but if that is what he thinks about Rabbi Ofran and about the subject of his lecture, then perhaps he acted correctly from his perspective (though as I explained, in my assessment he overstepped his authority entirely). I’m only saying that the people of Nehalim should draw their own conclusions about him.
In short: one who takes upon himself a rabbinic role—let him act accordingly, or let him take into account that he can be removed.
Discussion
What do you do with the law of “one who asks a sage”….
A question that almost always accompanies this issue is the question of the “local authority” itself—that is, the community and the conduct of the individuals within it. Should individuals who are unhappy with the rabbi’s rulings go off into a minor “civil war” with their neighbors because of the gap between these outlooks (say, where most of the community backs the rabbi and accepts his positions and rulings)?
I know of an important rabbanit (not personally, just by hearsay), a Torah scholar, who gives up the possibility of giving a class in her own place so as not to offend the rabbi, and perhaps the community itself. Sometimes people take considerations into account beyond what is halakhically right and wrong—social considerations, the potential cost of a social explosion, and the like. What is your position regarding the right/obligation to include such considerations in the overall framework of considerations?
Somehow this topic seems to me close to the issue of a public servant rabbi who receives a salary from the state and allows himself to express political opinions, like the rabbi of Safed, and I’d be very interested to hear Michael Abraham’s opinion on this
I would like to take advantage of the platform to ask something, and I’ll do so “anonymously.” But it is Torah, and I need to learn.
The rabbi and I grew up in the same area in Haifa, where great weight was given to the “mara de-atra,” who was very strict about all this.
When a yeshiva boy from another neighborhood would ask a question, he would ask him where he lived and would tell him that the rabbi of his own neighborhood should answer him.
And similarly regarding various practices which, in his opinion, obligated all the residents of the place
I would like to ask:
What is the rabbi’s opinion of such practices?
Of course I am but dust beneath the soles of that rabbi’s feet, and I ask with the proper humility
I would like to take advantage of the platform to ask something, and I’ll do so “anonymously.” But it is Torah, and I need to learn.
The rabbi and I grew up in the same area in Haifa, where great weight was given to the “mara de-atra,” who was very strict about this.
When a yeshiva boy from another neighborhood would ask a question, he would ask him where he lived and would tell him that the rabbi of his own neighborhood should answer him.
And similarly regarding various practices which, in his opinion, obligated all the residents of the place, and not only the members of his own community
I would like to ask:
What is the rabbi’s opinion of such practices?
Of course I am but dust beneath the soles of that rabbi’s feet, and I ask with the proper humility
Hello, Your Honor,
Two comments:
1. As for the authority of the Talmud—what about “A court may not annul the words of another court unless it is greater than it in wisdom and number”? It does not seem that such a court is going to arise anytime soon.
2. In the question at the end, “Where is the source for this? From where did the sages derive the authority to do this? Ostensibly they are violating a positive and a negative Torah commandment…” — why not simply assume that *formal* authority is entrusted to the collective of sages, and they determine the status of the nasi, and therefore they have the power to depose him? Who crowned him, if not they? And where did Rambam draw his idea of reestablishing semikhah through the agreement of the majority of the sages of Israel, if not from this simple notion?
With God’s help, 27 Sivan 5780
The issue of the authority of the local mara de-atra has been discussed quite a bit in halakhic literature; anyone interested will find much material in the articles linked to the Wikipedia entry “Mara DeAtra.”
But leave halakhah aside here—this is a simple matter of common decency. Someone who wants to give a Torah lecture in a place that already has a rabbi, especially in a community-oriented settlement, should approach the settlement rabbi and ask for his consent. That is the “proper attitude to Rav Amit.” Someone who relates to the “settlement rabbi” as though he were “invisible” is departing from accepted rules of courtesy.
True, Rav Ofran has a great stake to lean on—his illustrious grandfather 🙂—but when he goes to a place where they show honor to the local rabbi, it is fitting that he conduct himself according to “the stringencies of the place,” like Rami bar Tamar from Pumbedita, who came to Sura and ate udder according to his local custom, but only outside the town limits (Hullin 110a).
Regards, Ami’oz Yaron Schnitzel”r
Paragraph 3, line 3
…who came to Sura and ate…
In my opinion, precisely for that reason, a city rabbi has no halakhic status whatsoever. His status is legal-juridical, nothing more. He is a government official, that’s all.
If I ask someone, it is on the understanding that his answer is advice, not a request for a ruling.
Of course they have a place. On the other hand, it is equally clear that one must not overdo them. There are people who exploit your aspiration for peace in order to take over, and it is not right to enable them to do so. It takes two to tango.
My opinion has already been written here in the past: beyond my disagreement with the views of Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, and with him generally, he is a criminal and should be removed immediately. I wrote this in the past about other city rabbis as well who hold political gatherings. Above, I just wrote in a comment that a city rabbi does not even have the status of mara de-atra, since the public did not appoint him. He is a government official, and as such he certainly may not speak or act politically.
You mean Rabbi Benedict, of blessed memory, of course. He indeed was a classic rabbi. I disagree with him on this, because the status of the rabbi as mara de-atra nowadays is not such, and that is the understanding on which he was chosen. He derived his practices from sources that dealt with situations entirely different from the one today.
1. The Talmud is not a court, and its sages were not ordained.
2. Because there is no source for that assumption. If you wish, say that this very assumption is the reasoning I am talking about. Either way, it is not learned from any source but from reasoning. And indeed, that is probably also Rambam’s source.
It would be interesting to hear more details about the connection you had with Rabbi Shach. Any chance?
According to the Beit Yishai you mentioned and Rav Kook in Adar HaYakar, if acceptance of the sages and the force of their authority apply as a result of the public, by what force am I, as an individual, obligated by the public’s acceptance and subject to its decision when I oppose it?
There’s really nothing especially interesting. We had a connection with his family because my wife worked with his daughter, and through her we became friendly with the family. Beyond that, he was somewhat involved (negatively) in our relationship as a couple, but this is not the place. 🙂
Because you are part of the public. Just as you are bound by your own decisions, so too you are bound by the decisions of the organ of which you are a part (a limb of it). Like obligation to the law of the state.
I really don’t think I have such an obligation. Binyah, you’re welcome to join (there are chocolates).
And what obligates me to be part of the public?
Reality
And if I choose to change reality and stop being part of the public—would that be a legitimate choice?
1. In your opinion, what is the nature of the authority of Maran the Shulchan Arukh, when everyone says that we have accepted Maran’s rulings, they say that on two hundred rabbis he relied, etc. etc.? Does he have the same authority as the Talmud (that is, formal authority from below)? (I assume you’ll say no, but why not?)
2. What is the distinction between the formal authority of the Talmud, which we are all obligated to obey, and that of the mara de-atra, where “a private individual can say that with all due respect to the community rabbi, he has additional rabbis”? (The fact that there is a contract is a distinction, but it doesn’t distinguish in this respect.)
3. What is the distinction between the formal authority of the Talmud, whose rulings I must follow even if I think they are mistaken (except if their ruling is based on a factual assessment, where you once told me that if I think they are mistaken about the facts then I can, in any case, reject the resulting ruling), and that of the mara de-atra, where “if a person reaches the conclusion that the community rabbi is mistaken, then although the contract obligates him to obey the rabbi’s rulings, the truth obligates him not to do so”?
With God’s help, 28 Sivan 5780
A local rabbi is much more than a “lecturer” and decisor of halakhic questions, though even that requires a readiness to answer questioners on difficult and complex halakhic issues almost “around the clock.” Those tasks alone require the rabbi to devote far more time than the “half-time position” for which he receives a modest salary.
And beyond giving classes and issuing rulings, the rabbi must devote several evenings a week to conducting weddings, some of them in distant places, and to supervising the kashrut of anyone whose heart desires to go into “catering” or to set up a “falafel stand” and the like. And no less important than supervising the kashrut of food is supervising the kashrut of Torah classes and lectures in the settlement; more than once the rabbi has to block firmly those who offer the public “spoiled spiritual food” in Torah garb.
And a good settlement rabbi does not suffice with responding to requests and questions, but takes the initiative to awaken and encourage the public and individuals to increase their Torah study and their precision and beautification in mitzvot between man and God and between man and his fellow. I once said jokingly that the rabbi is called “mara,” which in Aramaic sounds like “hoe,” because he is the hoe that cultivates the members of his flock to grow and flourish spiritually.
But beyond disseminating Torah and issuing halakhic rulings, conducting weddings, and supervising kashrut, a local rabbi serves as an address for those in his community with personal and family problems. If someone runs into financial or health difficulties, they turn to the rabbi for help, and he tries to provide financial assistance and emotional encouragement.
If a family is dealing with “domestic peace” issues, children dropping out of the framework, and the like, the rabbi is called upon to listen and advise, and at times to see to funding professional treatment. In a dispute between neighbors, or between an individual and community institutions, the rabbi is called upon to serve as an arbitrator or mediator.
I once said jokingly that the rabbi is called “mara de-atra” because all the bitterness and troubles of the local people drain to his doorstep, demanding his listening ear, his advice, and his encouragement.
In short:
The local rabbi is not only a halakhic decisor, but also an educator and a social worker. He bears the responsibility of several full-time jobs while being paid a tiny “half-time” salary. For that the rabbi deserves honor and appreciation. Even if someone thinks the rabbi should proceed differently on a certain issue, he should comment gently and with reverence, and with the understanding that there are aspects that only someone who bears overall responsibility can see.
If a settlement is blessed with a Torah figure who devotes his time for the good of the public, sometimes at the expense of his own personal advancement and comfort, the residents should appreciate this and give their rabbi the respectful envelope due to him, both because of his greatness in Torah and because of his self-sacrifice for them.
Regards, Nehorai Shraga Agami-Psissovitz
1. Even if so—would you distinguish regarding all the laws embedded in the Talmud where it is clear that their source is a court? (There are plenty of such cases where one can easily infer that they are a court ruling. Of course not all of the Talmud is like that.)
2. So at the explanatory level, do you agree with the idea? Because it seems that this is really a basic premise of the authority of the Oral Torah (and perhaps also of the mara de-atra, assuming that what is valid for all Israel with respect to supreme authority is valid for the residents of a city with respect to the sage whom they crowned as their head)
What do you mean by legitimate? Halakhically you are forbidden, but you choose to abandon halakhah. Are you asking what the Holy One, blessed be He, will say? I don’t know. I assume it could depend on why you choose to leave the public. But that is worth asking Him.
1. Indeed. Laws whose source is a court are subject to “you shall not deviate.”
2. I didn’t understand the question. I explained my position.
That’s a circular argument. Halakhah itself was created by public acceptance, and now it obligates me to obey public acceptance.
I asked by what force I am obligated to be part of the public, and you answered: by virtue of the fact that I am part of the public?
Besides, to the question of “someone else asking,” you answered, “What do you mean by legitimate? Halakhically you are forbidden.”
And I ask again: by exactly which halakhah am I forbidden?
If it indeed follows from here that the sages have no authority, and acceptance of their words stems solely from my good will, don’t forget to bring chicken too.
With God’s help, 28 Sivan 5780
To Binyah—greetings,
The halakhah obligating a person to be part of the community is explained by Rambam in Hilchot Teshuvah 3:11: “One who separates himself from the ways of the community—even though he has committed no transgressions, but rather has separated himself from the congregation of Israel, does not perform mitzvot together with them, does not share in their distress, and does not fast in their fasts, but goes his own way like one of the gentiles of the land and as though he were not one of them—has no share in the world to come.”
And as explained in the Haggadah, one who says, “What does this service mean to you?”—“to you and not to him”—his judgment is, “Because he excluded himself from the collective, he denied the fundamental principle.” And since we blunt his teeth, he will only be able to eat soft chocolate 🙂
Regards, Ami’oz Yaron Schnitzel”r
Are you joking? You’re trying to prove to me the obligation to obey the sages by way of Rambam? You do understand there’s something problematic here, right?
After all, if I have no obligation at all to be part of the public, then I’m not obligated by the halakhot that the public accepted upon itself—and yes, not even by Hilchot Teshuvah 3:11.
Is there a question here? You are repeating my words, and for some reason it seems to me as though you are asking something.
You asked by what force you are obligated to be part of the public, and I answered that you are not obligated; rather, as a matter of fact you are part of it.
Halakhah obligates every Jew, and therefore halakhah forbids not observing halakhah. What is unclear here? Are you asking where in halakhah it says one must observe halakhah?
There are things in which I exclude myself from the collective and go against the public (for example, a unique political opinion, unique eating habits, and the like). What prevents me from deciding that acceptance of halakhah will also be one of those things?
(Or perhaps the public is also able to coerce me into its eating habits?)
Ask the same thing about obligation to the law. You are bound by what you obligated yourself to, even when this was done as part of an obligation undertaken by the public of which you are a part. Just like the law. And likewise a commitment undertaken by a company that binds its employees. What does this have to do with eating habits?
As far as I’m concerned, the discussion has been completely exhausted.
To Binyah—greetings,
The authority of the sages is explained in the Torah’s words, “And you shall do according to all the instruction that they teach you,” and Rambam already explained in his introductions to the Mishnah and to the Mishneh Torah the chain of transmission of the Oral Torah from generation to generation, from Moses our teacher to the sages of the Talmud, whose interpretation of the Torah and enactments obligate all Israel.
The words of Rambam in Hilchot Teshuvah, like all his words in the Mishneh Torah (except where he says “it appears to me”), are based on sources in the words of Hazal, and I pointed one of them out to you—in the words of Hazal in the Haggadah: “And because he excluded himself from the collective, he denied the fundamental principle.”
Regards, look there
You described an ideal figure of a devoted, loving, and beloved rabbi, a man of peace, who knows the members of his community and is positively involved in their lives, cares about the Torah study of the children of his community, is caring, helpful… But what if the settlement rabbi is not like that?
And what when this is far from the actual situation on the ground? What when a significant part of the public experiences only alienation, indifference, obtuseness and contempt, slander and insults, public humiliation, and not even a kind word ever? Must they still give their rabbi the “respectful envelope”…?
The question is why I am obligated to halakhah, and consequently to public acceptance?
I’ve despaired
Your answer, Michi, seems puzzling to me.
1. Factually, every person belongs to countless groups (“publics”). It does not follow from this that he is necessarily obligated to the laws or norms of any one of those groups. There are also different and contradictory value systems. What kind of argument is this?
2. The analogy to state law fails: Jewish halakhah was indeed created by human beings, like law, but behind it stands—at least in my eyes as a believing Jew—a document (the Torah) considered to have divine and eternal force. Are you seriously trying to argue that the religious relation to halakhah is equivalent to the civic relation to the law of the state? What kind of flawed analogy is that?
3. The most problematic point in the background (and one that did not really surface in this discussion): the Torah’s model proposes the following oddity—that we are to adopt the meta-halakhic norm saying that halakhah (or at least the divine will) takes precedence over every meta-halakhah whatsoever. “We shall do and we shall hear.”
That is the naturalistic fallacy in all its glory.
Maybe I asked stupid questions, but could I get an answer to them please?
And in the case at hand, in Nehalim, the public stood behind the rabbi. It was the settlement committee that prevented the lecture from taking place in the public buildings, which are the property of the cooperative association.
A settlement rabbi cannot be King Ahasuerus, able to “do according to every man’s pleasure.” A rabbi is bound by halakhah as his teachers instructed him, and halakhah has boundary lines. And in a community one must set halakhic “boundary lines.” It is impossible to satisfy everyone.
The people of Nehalim are working people faithful to Torah, but not “Torah and Labor” faithful. I can only imagine what the reaction of “Yavneh and its Sages” would be if one of the residents brought in a lecturer from Har Hamor without requesting approval from the local rabbi.
Regards, Avi Tissam from Ra’anana
Doron, I didn’t understand your distinction in 2. The rabbi’s intention (in my opinion) is to say that just as you are Israeli and therefore subject to the laws of the Knesset, so too you are Jewish and subject to the laws of halakhah. If a person doesn’t want to accept them, let him convert. Just as if a person doesn’t want to accept the laws of the Knesset, let him go to another country. The analogy is clear.
My argument is that there is more dividing than uniting between religious law (halakhah) and state law. Only the former is grounded, and explicitly so, in a metaphysical conception.
Accordingly, its weight as a source of authority is “infinite.”
Don’t you see that difference?
Infinite for a Jew. What I mean is that fine, there may be a distinction, but it doesn’t distinguish. Behind halakhah stands whatever you like, but the obligation to it derives from your being Jewish, just as the obligation to the laws of the Knesset derives from your being Israeli.
In his lesson “Proof in Gentle Language” (on the Yeshiva website), Rabbi H.D. Greenwald distinguishes between “protest” at the time something improper is being done, which should be firm, and “rebuke,” not at the time of action, which should be in gentle language, in accordance with Malbim’s words that “tokhehah” (rebuke) is from the language of “proof” and persuasion.
Regards, Nasa”f
The assumption here is that religious obligation was not imposed on us, but takes effect by virtue of a covenant that was made. Therefore there is no essential difference between the contexts. After that stage, of course there is clearly a difference, because the source of halakhah is God and it has more force and importance than state law. But here we are discussing the primary plane.
Not the slightest connection to the naturalistic fallacy. At the basis of every obligation to a normative system stands a meta-norm—that is, a claim that is not a fact, but is also not part of the system itself. In our case, the obligation to halakhah is based on belonging to a public that accepted it upon itself, and on the obligation to stand by contracts you signed. Neither a fallacy nor naturalistic.
The chocolates are for anyone who thinks the authority derives from the reasoning that this is God’s will, because otherwise the Torah would fall apart, etc., and presumably He gave the Torah with that in mind—that there should be some locus of authority determined by the public (because there is no one else to decide). But this has nothing to do with state law, and this is not independent reasoning but interpretive reasoning about God’s will.
EA
Your claim is tautological, or at least very close to it.
Obviously a Jew, insofar as he is a Jew by the historical and conceptual definition, is “obligated” to halakhah. What is the novelty in that? It is like saying that an Israeli citizen is obligated to the Israeli legal system… Perhaps true, but trivial, and most importantly—it does not touch the essential level of the discussion.
A person wants first of all to know what is right for him as a human being (and only from that, what is right for him as a Jew, as an Israeli citizen, as a redhead, and so on). Michi is missing the relevant level of the discussion.
Michi
The odd claim, in my eyes, that the contract (“the covenant”) was not imposed on us—what exactly is that grounded in? Did God command us, or merely “recommend” that we fulfill His will and adopt the Torah and halakhah? Our concern is not with the factual-psychological question (did God force us to “want” the Torah at some point in history?) but with the normative one.
Again, this is the naturalistic fallacy (= the actual behavior of a certain group, in this case in the distant past, dictating the correctness of the norm).
The model of obligation to the word of God is composed of two components, and there are disputes regarding the relation between them: the command that was imposed upon us, and our agreement to obligate ourselves. Here the discussion was only about the agreement. Personally, I think this also has to join with the force of the command itself (as Sandomilov argues at the chocolate party of the Mad Hatter that he is hosting).
The dispute begins already in Hazal and in the Torah itself, which on the one hand says He suspended the mountain over them like a barrel, and on the other hand says they declared, “We will do and we will hear” (and were even accused by the heretics of being a hasty people).
With God’s help, 28 Sivan 5780
On the need to preserve the standing of the local and community rabbis, the rabbi of Jerusalem, Rabbi Aryeh Stern, writes in the summary of his article “The Status of the Courts in the City” (Pri Yosef – Memorial Volume for R. Yosef Frochter, Jerusalem 1995, p. 238):
“The conclusion that emerges from this is that the fixed court in the city has great importance, not only in its very existence, but in that people are obligated to turn to it. Separate courts should not be established in its place except by way of each party choosing one [judge], and according to Rema—not even that, in a place where there is an established court.
This conclusion has great value for educating the public and consolidating the order of life in our cities, because there are many who undermine these foundations for various reasons, and they do not always receive the proper response according to halakhah…
But to the same degree he showed that in this way one must also establish the standing of the community rabbis, who do not serve the public merely by their existence, but rather the public must know to turn to them with every question and accept their opinion.
For the rabbinic role too is part of the commandment to appoint judges, whose task is to command the people to do good and to establish the appropriate fences for transgressors, so that the Torah’s commandments and prohibitions not be judged according to each person’s own belief, in the language of Rambam in Sefer HaMitzvot (positive commandment 176).
***
It is worth noting that even enactments that the community is authorized to enact require the agreement of an “important person,” if there is such a person in that place, as explained in the chapter “Lo Yachpor”; and from here, among other things, Rabbi Avraham Shapira, of blessed memory, brought (Techumin 4) a source for the validity of state laws, since generally the religious parties in the coalition consult rabbis in connection with laws about to be legislated, and thereby those laws have the agreement of an “important person”
Regards, Yefa”or
Unwitting despair
“At the basis of every obligation to a normative system stands a meta-norm, that is, a claim that is *not a fact* but is also not part of the system itself. And in our case, the obligation to halakhah is based on belonging to a public that accepted it upon itself, and on the obligation to stand by contracts you signed.”
And here the son asks: is “belonging to the public” not a fact???
Paragraph 2, line 3
…not even that, in a place where there is…
How do you know that halakhah is more similar to a legal system that I do not choose and yet am still bound by, rather than to some social norm that whoever wants adopts and whoever does not—does not?
I live in a village of vegans—does that obligate me to be vegan? No.
They accepted veganism upon themselves because they think it is better for their soul and body; I do not think so, and therefore I am not vegan.
= I live within a public of mitzvah-observant people; they accepted upon themselves to observe halakhah and to grant authority to the sages because they are quite sure that this will benefit them in some respect. I do not think so. So why should their decision obligate me here?
If the authority of the sages is such an acute and essential thing for preserving the Torah and preventing its disintegration, why doesn’t the Torah command it explicitly?
Maybe because it is possible to manage without it as well?
To “look there,” kindly look there and see that Rabbi Abraham already wrote above that the Torah’s words “and you shall do according to what they instruct you” are founded specifically with regard to hearing and obeying the rulings of a court (and this is also what Ramban writes there, and other straightforward commentators), and to take such a command and turn it into a constant, timeless, unceasing command is simply a complete distortion of the text.
The Torah does indeed explicitly command authority for an ordained Sanhedrin, according to fairly reasonable interpretations (and since it makes sense that it would command exactly that, this also supports the interpretation). Authority for the Gemara (and perhaps for the Shulchan Arukh with its commentaries where there is no strong ruling against it—it seems that this entire corpus came to be accepted together no less than the Gemara) is the issue under discussion. And this is a problem that happened to arise because of exiles and destructions, after many years. It is indeed difficult why the Torah did not write this explicitly (and I do not accept ideas that this is a basis prior to the Torah, etc.). The question is what the alternative is. Without any framework—not too rigid and not too loose—it is highly likely that within a few hundred years there will no longer be any resemblance among the different groups that worship God. Why it is important that there be resemblance—I do not know, but we see that God commanded mitzvot to an existing sociological group and did not gather separate sheaves around the world and command each one separately with his own Torah. So it makes sense that there has to be some tightening mechanism. And the Five Books of the Torah are simply not enough for that at present. We are left with what we have.
Just let me make sure I understood your claim:
There is authority for an ordained Sanhedrin.
There is no authority for the Gemara and the Shulchan Arukh.
There ought to be authority for the Gemara and the Shulchan Arukh.
Therefore, conclusion—there is authority for the Gemara and the Shulchan Arukh.
(?)
It is likely that there ought to be authority for something, and the most suitable candidate is the Gemara and the Shulchan Arukh.
Man Dehu:
And here the father answers: it’s worth reading before printing a question
To every man:
You decided that this is merely a good practice. I compared it to a contract. Would you also ask, regarding a contract, why you need to fulfill it? Would you ask the same about the legal system? We are repeating the same thing over and over. I’m done.
To Sandomilov—greetings,
According to the basic guidelines of the “Government of Change,” we are obligated to have a chief rabbi from Religious Zionism. The Gemara and the Shulchan Arukh are associated with Shas, and we think interpretation of halakhah should be left to open-minded and modern people.
At the moment there is talk of appointing a female chief rabbi from among the “Beit Hillel women rabbis,” who strengthened the hands of our friend MK Nir Orbach to support the “Government of Change.” The change that is coming upon us for the good will also turn “de-oraita” into “de-rabbanan,” and therefore we will always be able to rely on the lenient opinions.
With the blessing of comrades from “Torah and Labor,” N.T. Burnett
And does the obligation to a contract that I signed with my own hands in full consent not need justification? I am astonished.
Not stupid questions, but from time to time, in my sins, I allow myself to do things on the site other than answer questions. Apparently I missed this and only now got to it.
1. Simply because the facts are not correct. We did not accept his authority over us. Already his own commentators disagree with him. Ashkenazim do not accept his rulings where Rema disagrees, and so on.
2. This was explained in the article. The authority of the Talmud was accepted by the entire public, including all the rabbis.
3. See 2. The Talmud is like the law of the state.
Honestly, I see no problem at all with always relying on the lenient opinions within the legitimate interpretive range. “The leniency of this sage and the leniency of that sage is wickedness” applies only when there are contradictions. If there are several routes to the destination, one may choose at every junction the shortest route.
And indeed, on the lenient opinions that nowadays there is no mitzvah of “and you shall inherit [the land],” and therefore there is no halakhic obligation to hold onto the territories of the Land of Israel, we shall place our hands on a territorial compromise that will be achieved for us by the Foreign Minister and the Defense Minister.
Regards, N.T. Burnett
“Judges and officers shall you appoint for yourself in all your gates that the Lord your God gives you, according to your tribes; and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment”
Judges in the plural, not a single mara de-atra
To the last posek—greetings,
We would be happy to maintain two judges in every neighborhood, settlement, and moshav, but the budget of the Ministry of Religious Services is quite limited, and in the meantime we are forced to make do with one half-time rabbi position.
We hope that with the entry of the new Finance Minister, Mr. Avigdor Lieberman, known for his affection for all things holy, he will bring economic flowering and prosperity, and then add for us “Tosefta exactly as written” to the budget of religious services, and then, without a vow, we will appoint two rabbis in every neighborhood and settlement, as it is written: “Two are better than one.”
Regards, Kahan Matanah, Minister of Religious Services
Premise—it is likely that there ought to be authority.
Conclusion—there is authority.
A classic is-ought fallacy.
If you assume that there ought to be authority for the sages, that is not good proof that such authority actually exists.
Read again and you’ll see that this is really not what he wrote.
And even if that were what he wrote, it is really not a fallacy and really has nothing to do with is-ought. That is the basis of de-oraita reasoning, and there is not the slightest trace of fallacy in it.
With God’s help, 28 Sivan 5780
Since the Torah explicitly establishes a mechanism of interpretation—“and you shall arise and go up to the judge who shall be in those days”; and since the Torah states, “the scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,” it is clear that the Torah does not want a state of disintegration. Therefore, even if “the judge who shall be in those days” is not at the optimal level—since his wisdom is based on what his predecessors, the prophets and sages, received—it is clear that the Torah’s will is that there not be a “vacuum.”
Even in the time of Hazal, the judges in Babylonia were not ordained, and nevertheless their authority was recognized to judge matters of necessity—we say that even today, when we have no ordained judges, “we act as their agents,” the agents of those ordained ones who existed up to the days of Hazal.
Regards, Nasa”f
Paragraph 2, line 3
…and then, without a vow, we will appoint two rabbis in every…
Compassionate father, Rabbi Michi,
You probably mean your words about the contracts we signed.
And here the son asks: when did we sign them?
As far as I know, we signed only on observing the commandments of the Torah. To assume that we signed on obligation to halakhah, you need to assume that obligation to halakhah derives from obligation to the Torah itself, and not from public acceptance or something like that. And that is not what you wrote.
With mamzerim—is the prohibition derived from formal authority or substantive authority?
It is well known that as long as there is no unequivocal proof of mamzerut, a person is allowed to marry, even if it is fairly clear what happened.
If halakhic decisors are substantive advisers, what is the point of the rabbinical courts’ turning a blind eye to mamzerim?
So as not to weary the reading public here, let us suffice by saying that your words are very inaccurate. There is no point in continuing to ignore a serious problem. Archaic slogans and pretty words will not cover rage, insult, and social breakdown.
The above was a response to dear Avi Tissam from Ra’anana.
With God’s help, 29 Sivan 5780
To the Rebbe of Kishinev—greetings,
Defining a person as a mamzer means disqualifying all his descendants for generations from entering the congregation. Therefore halakhah treats this as “capital law,” in which unequivocal proof is required.
Regards, Nehorai Shraga Agami-Psissovitz
First, with mamzerim the rule is that a doubtful mamzer is not a mamzer, unlike the usual rules of doubt.
Second, Rabbi Elhanan Wasserman in his article explains that in all the cases where a Torah-level doubt is treated leniently (mamzer, tithes, mourning, orlah outside the Land, impurity in the public domain, etc.), the rule is that what is prohibited is not the reality but the knowledge about it. There is no prohibition against marrying a mamzer; rather, there is a prohibition against marrying someone whom you know to be a mamzer. Therefore Ran in Kiddushin writes that one may feed another person definite orlah produce from outside the Land, so long as the eater does not know. Therefore, as long as there is no clear information, the sages do not rule him a mamzer, and if people do not know, there is no Torah prohibition. According to Ran, it follows that by Torah law I may even marry off a definite mamzer to a valid Jewish woman who does not know of his mamzer status. So if there is doubt, all the more so it is permitted.
To one of the people—greetings,
Assuming this really was an innocent initiative to benefit the settlement’s residents with a lecture by a psychologist on matters of “safeguarding,” are there no psychologists expert in the subject who do not hold a halakhic outlook unacceptable to the settlement rabbi?
There are important rabbis in the Religious-Zionist “mainstream” who specialize in problems of this kind—such as Rabbi Yaakov Ariel and Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu. Presumably they can recommend experts acceptable to them, who would presumably also be acceptable to the settlement rabbi.
Turn to the rabbi and the community with respect—and you will merit, “as water reflects a face to a face,” a corresponding attitude. That is the whole “theory of relativity” 🙂
And as the masters of homiletics already taught us, in “making peace” one takes a few steps backward; and in the words of Lipa the wagon driver, “a little less is a little more” 🙂
Regards, Feyvish Lipa Susnovitzki-Dehari
“You decided that this is merely a good practice. I compared it to a contract. Would you also ask, regarding a contract, why you need to fulfill it? Would you ask the same about the legal system? We are repeating the same thing over and over. I’m done.”
Even if the rabbi has finished, I feel the need to sharpen my position.
I decided that this is a good practice; you decided that it is similar to a contract. I asked: why is your decision better or more correct than mine?
You compare halakhah to a contract and then ask whether I would also relate that way to a contract? But from the outset I understood it as a good practice, and therefore your question is, unfortunately, not relevant.
Perhaps one can give a reason why there is no prohibition concerning an unknown mamzer, for the mamzer did not sin and there is no intrinsic reason in him that should prohibit him from marrying. The reason for the prohibition is the desecration of God’s name in the fact that the transgression succeeded in bearing fruit and fruits of fruit. If so—when there is no certain knowledge that the person was conceived in transgression, there is no desecration of God’s name in benefiting from the “fruit of the poisoned tree,” since one can attribute it to the possibility that there was no transgression at all.
Regards, Nasa”f
Feyvish, you’re not on target. An equation has two sides. We are talking about serious people, so don’t aim low. There is a problem far beyond the specific case.
There is respect among us, and a great deal of respect, and a great deal of fear of Heaven and concern—and precisely that perpetuates the problem.
Rabbi Michi’s words are very relevant in this case; let us hope they reach the appropriate ears.
Why did you decide that the law of the state is not a good practice but a contract? Why did you decide that a contract you signed is a contract and not a good practice? If all those involved inform you that it is a contract, then it is a contract.
I do not understand this strange stubbornness. These are things as plain as an egg. One can agree and one can disagree, but there is no point in merely being obstinate and raising irrelevant and senseless claims again and again.
Michi,
Not similar and not even close.
This discussion came as a response to the question of Binyah and of “someone else asking.” They did not deny the weight of public decision (I actually do, but that is not important right now); rather, they asked what happens when there is a clash between that will and their own decision. Their implicit assumption, and a justified one, is that an actual moral decision (sometime in the distant past) cannot serve as the main basis for proper ethical conduct.
Now you come and “remember”: ah yes, there is also the principled issue in itself (that is, from the side of the commandment), and not only the issue of social agreement….
Too little and too late.
The only way, in my opinion, to save the weight of formal authority (in Judaism as well) is to base it on substantive authority and therefore also on direct apprehension (through intuitive capacity) of the truth.
It does not seem to me that this is the path you are taking.
I understand. Good luck to all of us
With God’s help, eve of Rosh Chodesh Tammuz 5780
A city rabbi is chosen by an electing body, the majority of whose members are representatives of the public in his city—representatives of the municipality, the religious council, and the major synagogues in the city. Only a small part of the electing body are representatives of the Minister of Religious Services and the Chief Rabbinate (who themselves are chosen by a broad electing body).
The role of a rabbi is to express the Torah’s view, and what can one do? The Torah has something to say also on matters touching politics—for example, disqualifying the election of a public official who deceived his voters.
Regards, Shimele Yemini-Rechtman, the Change Bloc for the Sake of Peace
All the more so than a city or neighborhood rabbi is the rabbi of a communal settlement, who is generally chosen by direct election of all the members of the settlement.
Regards, Shir
https://www.kipa.co.il/amp/1111539?utm_source=taboolafeed
Not important for the substantive discussion, but this is Rav Ofran’s response
To Binyah—greetings,
See below in my comment “Purposive Interpretation,” that it is unreasonable for the Torah to disintegrate with the exile and the annulment of the “Great Court.” Even in the time when there were ordained judges in the Land of Israel, authority was given to adjudicate necessary matters also to the courts in Babylonia by virtue of “we act as their agents”; and after the annulment of semikhah, authority was given to the courts of later generations by virtue of that same principle of “we act as their agents,” and “you have only the judge in your own days”—Jephthah in his generation is like Samuel in his generation.
Regards, look there
In practice, central courts continued—the academies of Sura and Pumbedita, and the academy of the Geonim of the Land of Israel—even in the Geonic period. Afterwards, because of exile, fragmentation increased and regional centers emerged. The Beit Yosef was a continuation of the aspiration to renew the Sanhedrin, by collecting the positions of the Rishonim and attempting to decide in accordance with the majority. The creation of the Shulchan Arukh, together with the qualifications of Rema, created an infrastructure for reducing differences; and in any case, constituted a sort of “seal” on the halakhic creativity of the Rishonim, just as the Mishnah sealed the period of the Tannaim, and the Talmud the period of the Amoraim.
“In any event, the great Rishonim and halakhic decisors (see, for example, the extended discussion in Rosh, Sanhedrin ch. 4 no. 6, whose conclusions are also brought in Shulchan Arukh, siman 25. See also my article on autonomy and authority in halakhic decision-making, and also a related discussion in column 304) already pointed out that all post-Talmudic sages do not possess formal authority, but at most substantive authority. They are experts in halakhah. This means that there is no obligation to obey them, great though they may be, although their words certainly carry significant weight.”
I assume the intention is to Even HaEzer siman 25 סעיף 1:
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Section 1
Any judge who judged monetary cases and erred—if he erred in matters that are open and known, such as laws explicitly stated in the Mishnah or Gemara or in the words of the halakhic decisors, the ruling is reversed and they judge it according to halakhah:
Gloss: However, some say that if it appears to the judge and to the sages of his generation, by compelling proofs, that the law is not as mentioned by the decisors, he may disagree with them, since it is not mentioned in the Gemara (Tur in the name of the Rosh). Nevertheless, one should not be lenient in a matter in which the books that have spread among the majority of Israel were stringent, unless he received from his teachers that that stringency is not practiced (Piskei Maharai no. 241):
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If I understood correctly, Rema indeed brought the words of the Rosh in this siman, but did not necessarily accept them (he only wrote “some say”); and in any case he thought that “the books that have spread among the majority of Israel” do have authority.
It should read: Hoshen Mishpat.
I wrote that he brings them. The Mechaber and Rema are both founders of the opposing school.
1. Why is that not correct? Broadly speaking, after a generation or two from the Shulchan Arukh (including Rema), it became the basis of halakhic ruling, even if in the details there are sometimes disputes. There are no commentators who dispute the basic acceptance of it itself. Therefore, first of all one checks what it ruled, and only afterwards discusses whether there is room to change; and where there is no specific dispute, apparently one accepts its rulings. (This is unlike all previous rulings of the Rishonim—for example, an Ashkenazi is not obligated to rule like Maharil, and a Moroccan is not obligated to rule like the Rosh—except for Yemenite Baladis, who accepted only Rambam.)
When you have no position of your own (your halakhic grasp is shaky), follow the custom. And in that case one may follow the Mechaber for Sephardim and the Rema for Ashkenazim. But when you do have a position of your own, do what you think.
In my humble opinion, regarding the story of the deposition of Rabban Gamliel, there is seemingly no difficulty at all, since one does not derive law from aggadah (Jerusalem Talmud Peah 2:6/4).
A—The force of the Gemara too comes from a Torah-level obligation, and not merely because of public agreement, but because the agreement of the entire public to accept one body or one individual and not to differ from him is equivalent to a Sanhedrin, as we were commanded: “to the judge who shall be in those days”; and more than that, even the force of the Sanhedrin’s decrees depends on the agreement of the public, as brought in Hilchot Mamrim, that if it did not spread through all Israel it is void, and even initially they do not decree unless…
And this is what Rambam says in the introduction to his Commentary on the Mishnah regarding the force of the Gemara:
“The third part is the laws they derived by way of reasoning, and disagreement fell among them… when the diligence of the students in wisdom weakened and their reasoning was weaker than the reasoning of Hillel and Shammai, disagreements fell among them in analysis on many matters, each one’s reasoning according to his intellect and the principles in his possession. And they are not to be blamed for this at all. For we do not compel two sages debating analytically to debate with the intellect of Joshua and Phinehas, and likewise we have no doubt concerning what they disputed, since they are not like Shammai and Hillel or those above them, for the Holy One, blessed be He, did not command us in His service on this matter. But He commanded us to listen to the sages of the generation, as it is said (Deut. 17), ‘to the judge who shall be in those days.’”
B—Regarding a mara de-atra—and every authority to which not all the people of Israel are subject, like the Sanhedrin or like Samuel in his generation, but only a specific community—there is a dispute between Rambam and his school as to whether his enactments have force over the community or not; see the cited responsum of R. Eliyahu Mizrahi. According to Rambam and his school, they do not.
If it was not understood, this is not a declaration, it is a question:
Why do you say that the force of the Gemara is without some commandment, as I quoted from Rambam?
I don’t understand the claim. Does everything the public agrees upon become, if I do not do it, a Torah transgression? From where did you draw this bizarre idea? According to this, every rabbinic law would have Torah-level force (which is not correct even according to Rambam).
Would the status of a city rabbi be similar to that of the rabbi of a small town? The question seeks to clarify whether a city rabbi also has a “contract.” City rabbis are chosen by an assembly of several dozen people, and the residents of the city themselves are not asked for their opinion. The composition of the assembly is:
(1) Half of the members shall be appointed by the local authority council; at least half of the members of the assembly under this paragraph shall be women;
(2) A quarter of the members shall be appointed by the synagogues in accordance with the procedure detailed in regulation 12;
(3) One-eighth of the members shall be rabbis holding rabbinic positions of public standing within the local authority’s jurisdiction, including neighborhood rabbis, community rabbis, and heads of Torah institutions, who shall be appointed by the minister with the consent of the head of the local authority;
(4) One-eighth of the members shall be public representatives from the fields of humanities, education, academia, and administration, who shall be appointed by the minister with the consent of the head of the local authority; at least half of the members of the assembly under this paragraph shall be women;