Vayeshev (5764)

From the book Mida Tova: Articles on the Hermeneutical Principles by Rabbi Michael Avraham. Translated from Hebrew using gpt-5.4 (reasoning_effort=high, batch API).

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With God’s help — Midah Tovah — Eve of the Holy Sabbath, Parashat Vayeshev, 5765

A. “An exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include”

“And the pit was empty; there was no water in it.” Once it says, “the pit was empty,” do I not know that there was no water in it? What then does the verse teach by saying, “there was no water in it”? There was no water in it, but there were snakes and scorpions in it.

(Rashi on Genesis 37:24; Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 22a; Babylonian Talmud, Chagigah 3a)

“And they cast him into the pit, and the pit was empty; there was no water in it.” There was no water in it, but there were snakes and scorpions in it. There were two pits: one filled with pebbles, and one filled with snakes and scorpions.

(Genesis Rabbah 84:16)

Doubled expressions

The verse cited in the interpretations above is phrased doubly: “the pit was empty; there was no water in it.” From what was said in the essays on Parashat Toledot-Vayetze, it emerges that such doubling can be interpreted in two ways: according to the approach of the school of Rabbi Akiva, it was stated for drash (midrashic interpretation); according to Rabbi Ishmael, it was stated in ordinary human language, and therefore there is no necessity to expound it, at least when there is no pressure to do so. At first glance, the interpreters before us belong to the school of Rabbi Akiva, since they do expound the doubled expressions.

However, this analysis rests on the assumption that these expressions are in fact duplicates. But “empty” and “there was no water in it” are not expressions with identical meaning. To be sure, if a pit is empty, then certainly there is no water in it. But if there is no water in it, that does not mean that it is entirely empty. It is therefore quite possible that these interpretations are not connected at all to the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Ishmael. Below we will also see other occurrences in which there are two consecutive exclusions with identical content.¹

Peshat (plain sense) or drash (midrashic interpretation): the logic of the interpretation

The logic of the interpretation seems fairly clear. The claim that the pit is empty necessarily entails the claim that there is no water in it. If so, it is unclear why the Torah nevertheless adds the second statement. From here the interpreter concludes that the addition is meant to teach that the pit was not entirely empty, but only empty of water; he then adds that there were snakes and scorpions in it. According to this principle, the sentence “the pit was empty; there was no water in it” is equivalent to the sentence “the pit was not completely empty,” or: “the pit was empty of water.” The conclusion that there were specifically snakes and scorpions there stems from a local interpretation by the exegetes, not from any universal convention.

One may hesitate here: is this really drash, or is it a plain-sense consideration? After all, such a consideration can certainly be understood with respect to any text, even if the hermeneutical principles had not been given to us at Sinai. If so, why classify this consideration as drash at all? It should be noted that the formulation in Midrash Rabbah differs from the formulation in the Gemara. In Midrash Rabbah, this interpretation is presented as a simple conclusion, without the midrashic-sounding preface found in the Babylonian Talmud quoted above. This suggests that the midrash regards it as an ordinary plain-sense interpretation. As noted, the formulation in the Babylonian Talmud does not suggest that.

Classifying the interpretation

Rabbi Kasher, in his book Torah Shelemah, cites several commentators on Rashi who explain that the basis of this interpretation is the well-known rule: “An exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include.” Since both the words “empty” and “no” are words of exclusion, it follows that Scripture here comes to include something after all in this “empty” pit. He then asks how one knows that the pit contained specifically snakes and scorpions, a fact that cannot be inferred from the rule of “an exclusion after an exclusion” itself. Rabbi Judah of Vienna wrote that this is a gezerah shavah (verbal analogy), and this is also cited in Yefeh To’ar.² Maharzu explained that these are the things typically found in a desolate pit. There are also other considerations.

In any event, this interpretation apparently rests on the principle “an exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include.” Its logic is probably the one explained above.³

“An exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include”

This principle appears in several places in the Talmud.⁴ Shapracher, in the summary of his article, shows that there are many different appearances of this rule in rabbinic literature, and it is difficult to propose a single comprehensive schema grounded in one logic. It is therefore very important to undertake research that will map these occurrences according to various parameters. We will now present several examples that illustrate part of this variety, and propose a preliminary characterization of two types of appearances of this rule.

In Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 23b, it is derived that the appraisal of lands and persons is conducted by a court in which nine Israelites and one priest sit. The source is that the word “priest” appears ten times in the passage dealing with consecrated valuations. The first “priest” teaches that a priest is required, thereby excluding Israelites; the second “priest” also excludes Israelites, but since it is an exclusion that comes after the first exclusion, the Gemara concludes that it comes to include, meaning that the second judge may be an Israelite. The third “priest” likewise constitutes an exclusion after an exclusion, and therefore again includes an Israelite, and so on with all the rest.

The Gemara then asks why we should not treat the third occurrence as a first exclusion, since the second was already understood above as an inclusion and therefore is no longer an exclusion; the fourth would then be an exclusion after an exclusion and would come to include, and so forth. The conclusion would then be that the court of appraisal should contain five Israelites and at least five priests.⁵ The Gemara remains with a kashya, that is, without an explanation.⁶

One should note that in the Megillah passage the exclusions are effected by the very same word. Moreover, there it is difficult to interpret the verses that way at all, were it not for the rule of “an exclusion after an exclusion.” This looks like drash, not plain-sense interpretation.

Another example appears in Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 46a, concerning the hanging of those executed by the court. From the verse, “If a man has committed a sin,” they derive: “man” — and not a minor; “sin” — one who is executed for his own sin, excluding the stubborn and rebellious son, who is executed because of where he is headed. And an exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include. From here they include the stubborn and rebellious son in hanging.

A further example appears in Babylonian Talmud, Bava Kamma 86b, and Babylonian Talmud, Makkot 9b. The verse concerning an inadvertent killer states: “without seeing, without knowledge,” and from this they derive the inclusion of a blind person: “without seeing” — to exclude; “without knowledge” — to exclude; and an exclusion after an exclusion serves only to include.

To illustrate something of the research needed concerning this principle in particular and hermeneutical principles in general more generally, let us try to classify these examples somewhat. First, in the last two cases the exclusions appear one after the other, as in our case, unlike the Megillah passage. If so, this would seem to be plain-sense interpretation rather than drash. However, in the example of the stubborn and rebellious son, each of the underlying exclusions is itself derived interpretively; the same is true in Megillah, whereas in Bava Kamma the exclusion arises from the meaning of the verse itself. Therefore it still seems that these are cases of drash. Beyond that, in the example of the stubborn and rebellious son, the wording of the verse itself leaves nothing redundant: it is impossible to write that verse and preserve its plain content with only one exclusion. By contrast, in the example of the blind person there is a redundancy very similar to our case. A third difference concerns the character of what is included: in the case of the stubborn and rebellious son, the inclusion cancels one of the exclusions that compose it. By contrast, in the case of the blind person there is an inclusion that does not entirely cancel one of the exclusions, as in our example. A fourth difference is that in the case of the stubborn and rebellious son the two exclusions are not on the same axis: first the type of person is excluded, and then the type of offense. By contrast, in the case of the blind person and in the case of Joseph’s pit, the two exclusions operate on the same axis: lack of awareness, and the emptiness of the pit. These differences bear on the question whether a given occurrence of the rule should be regarded as drash or as plain-sense interpretation. Our claim is that rabbinic literature contains instances of both types. The table below summarizes the differences we have presented:

Passage / feature	Are the exclusion expressions identical?	Are the exclusions adjacent?	Does the inclusion cancel one of the exclusions?	Could the verse have been written differently?	Are the two exclusions on the same axis?	Is the interpretation drash or peshat?
Megillah	Yes	No	Yes	Yes	Yes	Drash
Sanhedrin	No	Yes	Yes	No	No	Drash
Bava Kamma	No	Yes	No	Yes	Yes	Drash
Our case	No	Yes	No	Yes	Yes	Peshat

Interim summary

The discussion we have conducted is only an initial and superficial step, meant merely as an illustration. There are differences along additional parameters and at finer resolutions as well — for example, how many of the exclusions are cancelled by the inclusion, and in what way — and reliable conclusions obviously require a full picture. In general, one may summarize by saying that beneath the heading “an exclusion after an exclusion” several different mechanisms are concealed; this is also Shapracher’s conclusion. Sometimes this principle expresses a formal rule, and sometimes it expresses a plain-sense interpretation, as in our case.⁷ There are also cases in which it is difficult to decide between the two possibilities; we saw that the Talmudic sages in Megillah may perhaps have disagreed about this. All these are important tasks for research into the hermeneutical principles.

The universality of the schema

Despite the diversity, there is a certain universality at the level of schema. First, one identifies two exclusions in the same passage. From both of them one infers that there is an inclusion here. Finally, one must decide what it is that is being included. That determination seems to vary from one context to another, and is not connected to the way the general principle itself is applied.

Perhaps one may say that the logic behind all appearances of this rule rests on the formal-logical consideration we encountered above in our own interpretation. To be sure, there are cases in which we would not interpret the verse that way were it not for the formal midrashic rule. The formal midrashic rule instructs us to treat all these occurrences, even in cases where such a reading is not plausible on the level of peshat, as though the verse had been written in the plain-sense form of exclusion after exclusion, like “the pit was empty; there was no water in it.” For example, we are to relate to the verses discussed in Megillah as though all ten occurrences of the word “priest” were written consecutively, and then apply the plain-sense logic that we would have applied had the text actually been written that way.

If our proposal is correct, then the formal schema of this rule is merely a rule for organizing the text. Such a rule is needed as the substrate and infrastructure for applying ordinary plain-sense reasoning. In the final analysis, the logic is logical, as in our portion.

Words of exclusion

It should be noted that even identifying words of exclusion is rather problematic. The words “empty” or “there was no” are obviously words of exclusion. But why should words like “man” or “sin” count as exclusions? By this logic, almost any word could be treated as an exclusion. Apparently the Sages approached the verses with certain ideas, whether from reasoning or from tradition, and searched for key words.⁸ Once it is known to us that the verse should contain an excluding word, we can understand why the Sages chose the word “man” or “sin.” If it was clear to the Sages that from hanging we must exclude certain types of people or certain kinds of offenses, then their choice of these excluding words would be more understandable. Sometimes logical considerations or tradition underlie the excluding rule and the choice of the excluding words.

The structure of this rule

We have already pointed out several times that each of the thirteen hermeneutical principles has a universal dimension and a particular dimension. On the one hand, there is a textual cue that instructs us to look for an interpretation; that is a universal structure. On the other hand, there is a rational consideration that helps us find an analogy which will provide the logical basis for the interpretation. In the page on Parashat Chayei Sarah, at the end of part 1, we saw that the “principle” is only the formal-universal part, the part shared by all occurrences of this interpretive form. The substantive-rational part changes from one context to another; it depends on the meanings of the concepts employed in the interpretation, on the substantive links among them, and of course on the biblical context.

Perhaps our discussion here can also be divided into two such parts. On the one hand, the principle always operates in a similar way: two exclusions serve as a textual cue instructing us to include something, whether by qualifying the exclusion or by cancelling one of the exclusions. On the other hand, the element that is included differs from one context to another. In our case, snakes and scorpions are included; for an explanation, see Nahmanides on this verse, among others.

The thirteen principles of Rabbi Ishmael and the thirty-two principles of Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Yosei HaGelili

It should be noted that this rule does not appear in the list of the thirteen principles in the baraita (early rabbinic teaching) of Rabbi Ishmael. On the other hand, it does appear in the list of the thirty-two hermeneutical principles of Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Yosei HaGelili. In Sefer Keritut, by Rabbi Samson of Shantz (part 3, Netivot Olam, section D; see also there, part 5, Leshon Limmudim, gate 1, section 13),⁹ we read: “How does exclusion after exclusion work? ‘And they said: Has the Lord indeed spoken only with Moses?’ and so forth — an exclusion after an exclusion…”¹⁰

It is commonly thought that the principles of Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Yosei HaGelili concern aggadic (non-legal, homiletical) interpretation, whereas the thirteen principles of Rabbi Ishmael concern halakhic (legal) interpretation. Yet this rule is certainly used in the halakhic midrashim as well. In this respect it joins quite a number of additional principles and interpretive tools that serve halakhic interpretation but were not listed by Rabbi Ishmael. See, for example, the language of Maimonides at the beginning of the second root, where he refers to the status of the methods of interpretation and says: “the thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded, or by inclusion.”¹¹ What criterion defines Rabbi Ishmael’s list? What is the meaning of the other interpretive methods that do not appear on the list?¹² These too are important tasks for research into the hermeneutical principles.

In that section, Rabbi Samson of Shantz explains regarding every principle absent from Rabbi Ishmael’s list why Rabbi Ishmael in fact did not include it. In his introduction he points to three kinds of reasons:
1. The principle is disputed.¹³
2. It is regarded as though it were explicitly written in the text, for various reasons, and not as midrash.¹⁴
3. It serves aggadic interpretation rather than halakhic interpretation.

If so, according to Rabbi Samson’s remarks there are quite a number of tools of halakhic interpretation that do not appear in Rabbi Ishmael’s baraita, for example for reasons 1-2.

Is the rule “an exclusion after an exclusion” itself a hermeneutical principle?

Regarding the principle of “an exclusion after an exclusion,” Rabbi Samson of Shantz writes that it was not counted by Rabbi Ishmael because it is regarded as though it were written explicitly, that is, for reason 2.

Let us examine this in light of our conclusions above. With respect to occurrences that are plain-sense interpretation, as in our midrash, this is understandable: the inclusion itself is a plain-sense consideration and not an interpretive tool; the content of the inclusion, namely snakes and scorpions, is probably a result of the context. But with respect to the formal occurrences, this is difficult. Why should the result of the formal rule “an exclusion after an exclusion” be regarded as explicitly written in Scripture? Three explanations may be suggested:

1. Rabbi Samson himself explains, regarding several principles, that they are considered as though explicitly written in Scripture because they are based on a superfluous word in the passage — “completely free,” in his terminology. That word has no other meaning. This rule reveals the meaning of that word, and therefore this is peshat, not drash.
2. Perhaps one can say that even the formal principle of “an exclusion after an exclusion” is grounded in plain-sense interpretation, and therefore is as though explicitly written in Scripture. For example, the fact that the word “priest” appears ten times in the passage of consecrated valuations is real redundancy. Scripture could have written “the man,” or omitted the word entirely — instead of “and the priest shall take,” it could have written simply “and he shall take.” If so, the writing of the word indicates that there is an exclusion here. Once we have reached this conclusion, we can infer a plain-sense conclusion that the second exclusion comes to include, exactly as in our case. This may indeed have been Rabbi Samson’s own intention.
3. Rabbi Samson’s language suggests that he did not mean to say that this is not drash at all. Rather, he meant that it is drash, but of a type that Rabbi Ishmael did not count, for reason 2. The inclusion here is based on a superfluous excluding word that is explicitly written, and therefore it is clear that its intention is to include. The fact that the word is “free” means that from the standpoint of peshat there is no need for it at all, and therefore the drash is the “peshat” of that word. It is as though Scripture wrote the result of the interpretation explicitly, just not in the usual way.¹⁵

In light of our remarks above, perhaps one can suggest an additional explanation, based specifically on reason 1. “An exclusion after an exclusion” is a principle of Rabbi Akiva, and therefore it was not counted by Rabbi Ishmael. At least in some occurrences, we already noted above that it is even plausible to understand it against the background of the school of Rabbi Akiva, which does not maintain that “the Torah speaks in human language” and therefore expounds duplications. See the page on Parashat Vayetze.

B. The logical and legal meanings of negation¹⁶

The relation between opposing formulations

We remarked above that the logic of double exclusion probably underlies all appearances of the rule “an exclusion after an exclusion,” except that there are different ways of arriving at a formulation of double exclusion. If so, our interpretation is the prototype of an “exclusion after an exclusion” interpretation. Let us examine its logic a bit more closely.

We saw that when the Torah writes, “the pit was empty; there was no water in it,” the meaning of the expression is: “the pit was empty of water.” We must ask ourselves why the Torah wrote it this way, instead of writing directly, “the pit was full of snakes and scorpions.” The explanation probably varies from one context to another and is not part of the general schema. But even without entering into a specific explanation, one general conclusion necessarily follows from this, and it is valid everywhere: these two formulations are not equivalent. This is a rather surprising claim, and we will now try to understand it.

A first attempt at explanation

At first glance, one possible explanation is based on the fact that the two statements differ in content. The formulation “the pit was empty of water” leaves open the possibility that there were other things in the pit. By contrast, the statement that there were snakes and scorpions in the pit is unequivocal. If so, there is an intermediate state that is equivalent to neither of these statements but lies between them: a state in which the pit is filled with something else.

But this explanation is insufficient. For example, in the Megillah passage, the inclusion of Israelites completely cancels the exclusion of priests. There is no intermediate space. More than that: according to the midrash, the Torah teaches us that in fact there were snakes and scorpions in the pit. If so, the choice of an indirect and ambiguous formulation rather than a sharper and more direct one requires explanation. The difference in content between the two formulations will not help us here. We must therefore precede our discussion with a brief logical analysis of negation.

Two kinds of negation

The ancients famously asked whether light is the absence of darkness or darkness is the absence of light.¹⁷ Put differently: is light what exists and darkness what does not, or the reverse? Let us now ask ourselves: is there no third possibility, namely that both factors exist? The answer is no, and we will explain this briefly here.

There are two kinds of oppositional relation: a privative negation and a contrastive negation. A privative negation is a relation parallel to that between 1 and 0. A contrastive negation is a relation parallel to that between 1 and -1. The relation between light and darkness is clearly one of privative negation. When we are dealing with two concepts or entities whose relation is privative, then clearly one exists and the other does not. By contrast, when we are dealing with a pair whose members stand to one another in contrastive negation, such as cold and heat, then both opposites exist, only their properties are opposed. Let us sharpen this a bit further.

There is another feature of the arithmetical analogy we have just used. In the pair 1 and -1, there is an operation of addition between them whose result is a third number: 0. By contrast, with the pair 1 and 0, addition simply yields 1. This property also exists among entities or concepts of the corresponding kinds. If we place light and darkness together in some location, the “sum” will be one of the two addends: ordinary light, that is, 1. There is no cancellation and no intermediate state. But if we place in that same location two entities with opposite properties, such as cold and heat, they will cancel one another, and the result will be a third property: a lukewarm temperature.

Such a property teaches us that the oppositional relation between heat and cold is contrastive in character, whereas the relation between light and darkness is privative. Therefore we conclude that heat and cold both “exist,” only their properties are opposed. By contrast, with respect to light and darkness, it is clear that one exists and the other is merely the absence of the first.

A difference within privative negations

In the explanation proposed above, we tried to rely on the difference in content between the formulations. In other words, the relation between “the pit is empty” and “there are snakes and scorpions in the pit” is contrastive, since there is a third state between the two formulations: there is something in the pit that is neither water nor snakes and scorpions. According to this, the negation of one is not equivalent to the other, because there is an intermediate state. But then we brought cases in which no such state exists, such as priest and Israelite. In such a case, one formulation is logically equivalent to the negation of the other.

To show a difference that would exist even between two such formulations, we must show that there are claims whose logical relation is one of contrastive negation, and yet there is no intermediate state between them. Put differently, we ask: between proposition A and proposition B there is no intermediate state, that is, a privative opposition. Is it possible that the proposition “A” will nevertheless differ from “not-B”?¹⁸

Positive and negative commandments

A hint toward the solution can be seen in the distinction between positive commandments and prohibitions. What is the difference between these two kinds of commandments? At first glance, positive commandments require action, whereas prohibitions require non-action. But at least according to certain views, there are positive commandments that involve passivity, and the reverse as well. For example, there is a positive commandment to rest on the Sabbath, that is, not to perform labor. If so, what nevertheless distinguishes a positive commandment from a prohibition?

We can ask the question differently. What is the difference between the Torah commanding us to put on tefillin and the Torah forbidding us not to put on tefillin? The first is a positive commandment and the second a prohibition, yet their content is entirely identical. In this formulation one sees that, from a logical standpoint, this is a problem similar to our issue in the rule “an exclusion after an exclusion”: we must find a logical difference between two formulations that have no difference in content.

The explanation appears to be as follows. When the Torah commands us to put on tefillin, the desired state from its point of view is that tefillin be on me. By contrast, if it had forbidden me not to put on tefillin, then the Torah would have no interest as such in there being tefillin on me. What would interest it is that there not be a state in which tefillin are not on me. Put simply: the difference between a positive commandment and a prohibition lies in the question whether the Torah defines the desired state, in the case of a positive commandment, or the undesired state that is to be avoided, in the case of a prohibition.¹⁹

Back to the pit: snakes, scorpions, but no water

The conclusion is that there is a logical difference between the formulations “the pit was empty of water” and “the pit was full of something,” and this belongs to the universal schema of “an exclusion after an exclusion,” not merely to the local content of the context under discussion. When the Torah wishes to teach us the passive fact that the pit contained no water, it writes in the form of exclusion after exclusion. But if it wishes to teach a positive fact, such as that there were snakes and scorpions in the pit, it writes this directly.

All this is only a formal-logical explanation. We still have to ask why the Torah is interested in emphasizing precisely this side of the matter. That question is obviously connected to local considerations and does not depend on the logical-universal schema of the interpretation. We may suggest one possible explanation. The claim that the pit was empty of water works in the brothers’ favor, since they did not intend to drown him. By contrast, the claim that there were snakes and scorpions in it works to their detriment, since he could have been harmed. Or perhaps it works in Reuben’s favor, since he tried to prevent that harm. It may be that the Torah highlights the positive side, and therefore leaves the negative side to interpretation. And the rest — go and study.

Footnotes