V’zot HaBerachah (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).

---

With God’s help. Midah Tovah — Sabbath eve of the Torah portion Vezot HaBerakhah, 5765

Questions

1. Is gematria (numerical interpretation) an allusion or a drash (interpretive exposition)?
2. Is it vague and pliable, like clay in the hands of the craftsman, or are there tools for applying it systematically?
3. What are the two meanings of the question, “From where do we know?”
4. What distinguishes the hermeneutical principles of halakha (Jewish law) from those of aggadah (non-legal rabbinic teaching)?
5. Why are there no principles of halakhic exposition that are not also used in aggadic exposition, but only the reverse?
6. Does the counting of the mitzvot (commandments) have halakhic significance?
7. Is Rabbi Simlai’s drash a halakhic drash?

The principles

• Gematria
• Notarikon (acrostic expansion)
• From above
• From opposite
• Paronomasia
• Counting the number of occurrences in the Torah

“Moses commanded us the Torah, an inheritance of the congregation of Jacob.”

— Deuteronomy 33:4

Rabbi Simlai expounded: 613 mitzvot were stated to Moses: 365 prohibitions, corresponding to the days of the solar year, and 248 positive commandments, corresponding to the limbs of the human being. Rav Hamnuna said: What is the verse? “Moses commanded us the Torah, an inheritance of the congregation of Jacob.” The numerical value of the word “Torah” is 611; “I am the Lord your God” and “You shall have no other gods” we heard from the mouth of the Almighty Himself.

— Babylonian Talmud, Makkot 23b–24a

A. Gematria: Allusion or Drash

Introduction

In the baraita cited at the end of tractate Makkot, the number of the mitzvot in the Torah appears: 613. The baraita brings an allusion to this from the verse in our Torah portion: the word “Torah” has the numerical value 611, and that is the number of mitzvot commanded to us by Moses himself, as the verse states. Beyond these there are two more — “I am the Lord your God” and “You shall have no other gods” — which we heard from the Almighty Himself, and not from Moses, making a total of 613 mitzvot. In the course of the discussion, the mitzvot are divided into 248 positive commandments corresponding to the limbs of the human being, and 365 prohibitions corresponding to the days of the solar year.

As noted, the baraita gives a source for this number from the verse in our Torah portion by means of gematria. In this essay we shall deal with two topics: gematria as a hermeneutical principle, and the counting of the mitzvot.

Gematria

Gematria is one of the hermeneutical principles — number 29 — in the list of Rabbi Eliezer son of Rabbi Yose the Galilean. The baraita of the 32 principles states:

(29) Gematria. From where do we know that one expounds gematria in aggadah? If for numerical calculation, Scripture says “three hundred and eighteen” in Genesis 14, and that comes to the numerical value of Eliezer. And if for substitution of letters, Scripture already says “Lev Kamai” in Jeremiah 51 — that is “Chaldea” through letter substitution, for the letters are exchanged according to the alphabet-reversal cipher.

In the essay on the Torah portion Balak, we discussed the principle that appears after gematria in that list: notarikon. There too we mentioned gematria. We also dealt briefly with the question whether these principles are of the character of drash or of allusion. The conclusion there was that notarikon is an allusion, and therefore serves only in aggadic drash. Even so, we noted that an aggadic principle of interpretation must also have some coherent structure; it is not plausible that one could simply do whatever one pleases.

With respect to notarikon, we concluded that it is used when there is an extra word, a word not needed for the plain meaning, so that it is clear that it is intended for midrash (rabbinic interpretation). In such a situation, if we find a notarikon connected to the issue, we may use it, at least in aggadah. We would have expected a similar solution for gematria as well, but here the situation is more complicated.

The author of Keritut, in his commentary on the baraita of the 32 principles, goes through each principle and explains why, if at all, it was not included in Rabbi Ishmael’s list. We saw in the essay on the Torah portion Vayeshev that he offers three kinds of explanation, each accounting for part of the list. One of them is that certain principles belong to aggadic exposition, and for that reason Rabbi Ishmael does not count them. We saw that this is his view regarding notarikon. But in his interpretation of gematria, Rabbi Samson of Chinon explains that Rabbi Ishmael did not count it because he disputes its validity.

Immediately afterward, Rabbi Samson of Chinon cites a source showing that there are those who dispute gematria, from the passage in Babylonian Talmud, Nazir 5a. Rabbi Matna there derives the law that an unspecified naziriteship lasts thirty days from the word meaning “it shall be,” whose numerical value is 30. In that passage Bar Padda disputes this source and brings another one, based on the number of times the terms for “Nazirite” and “his Nazirite state” appear in the Torah. The author of Keritut conjectures that Rabbi Ishmael follows Bar Padda’s view and does not accept gematria as a hermeneutical principle.

Learning from the Number of Occurrences in the Torah

We must ask what this dispute, if such a dispute indeed exists,¹ is based upon regarding gematria. At first glance, the main problem with this principle is its speculative nature. One can prove almost anything in the world by gematria. It appears to be a tool that is like clay in the hands of the craftsman, and it is hard to believe that such a principle is reliable enough to generate new laws.

Yet this suggestion is problematic specifically in light of the Nazir passage just mentioned. As we saw there, Bar Padda disputes Rabbi Matna and holds that the source for the rule “an unspecified naziriteship is thirty days” is the number of times the terms for “Nazirite” and “his Nazirite state” appear in the Torah. And indeed, we find in the Talmud quite a few derivations based on the number of occurrences of a given concept in the Torah — for example, in the Babylonian Talmud at the beginning of tractate Sanhedrin, where they derive that three judges are required in a court for monetary cases from the number of times the term for judges appears in the passage; and in Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 23b, where they derive the law of an appraisal court from the fact that the word for priest appears ten times in a passage; and in Shabbat 49b, where they derive the number of categories of labor forbidden on the Sabbath from the number of times the word for labor appears; and many more.

We must consider what kind of derivation this is. Which hermeneutical principle does it represent? Beyond that, one may also ask why it does not appear in Rabbi Ishmael’s list. The question becomes sharper in light of Rabbi Samson of Chinon’s claim that Rabbi Ishmael, the author of the baraita of the 13 principles, indeed sides here with Bar Padda.

It should be noted that deriving from the number of occurrences in the Torah does not seem any less speculative than gematria. Do we always derive some detail about a law from the number of times it appears in Scripture?

Is the Dispute Over Gematria Due to Its Speculative Nature?

A look at the passage makes it unlikely that the dispute is based on the degree of speculation that Bar Padda sees in gematria. The alternative he himself proposes does not seem any less speculative, and it too can serve as raw material in the hands of the craftsman — or the interpreter.

Moreover, in that passage everyone seems to agree that an unspecified naziriteship is thirty days, and the dispute concerns only the source of the law. If so, it would seem that this law was transmitted to them by tradition and was not created by this drash.² If so, the proposed derashot are supportive rather than creative. In such a situation it is easier to accept a gematria derivation, since it is not creating a new law.

Yet this too seems unlikely, for several reasons. First, even a supportive drash must be based on some hermeneutical principle. If gematria is not such a principle, then what sense is there in using it even as a supportive drash? And if it is indeed a hermeneutical principle, then the question returns: how is it reliable enough to create new laws?[^^3] Beyond that, the law of unspecified naziriteship appears in the Mishnah, and is therefore agreed upon. The amoraim are each trying, in his own way, to find the source of this tannaitic law. If so, each of them is offering a creative drash, not merely a supportive one, except that they disagree over how — that is, from which source — the law in question was generated.

In the end, in light of the Nazir passage it is hard to see any basis for saying that the dispute over gematria arises from its speculative character. Why then does Rabbi Ishmael nevertheless reject gematria as a hermeneutical principle?

Two Linguistic Observations

The overwhelming majority of the 32 principles open with the expression, “How?” The meaning of that formulation is to demonstrate how the principle operates. But as can be seen from the citation above, this principle is one of five exceptional principles — all of which appear together in one group in the baraita — and they open with the formulation, “From where do we know that one expounds … in aggadah?” Alongside gematria are also notarikon, paronomasia, from above, and from opposite.

If we pay attention, we can see that this formulation contains two distinct emphases, drawn from two different linguistic observations:

1. As we emphasized in the essay on Balak, the formulation “From where do we know” suggests that we are dealing with a source for the validity of the hermeneutical principle, not with an example of its application, which would have been introduced by “How?” Yet examination of the baraita shows that the drash brought in answer to the question “From where do we know” is an example, not a source.³
2. In these principles, the midrash says explicitly that this is a principle of aggadic exposition, unlike the other principles.

Is Gematria an Aggadic Drash? Why Does Rabbi Samson of Chinon Reject the Second Observation?

We mentioned that Rabbi Samson of Chinon offers three types of explanation for why certain principles found in the 32-principle baraita do not appear in Rabbi Ishmael’s list. Here, however, the baraita explicitly states that gematria is a principle of aggadic exposition. At first glance, one would have expected that to be the explanation for its absence from Rabbi Ishmael’s list. Surprisingly, the author of Keritut explains its absence from Rabbi Ishmael’s list specifically by saying that in his opinion it is not valid “with regard to matters of Torah.” Perhaps one might have identified “Torah” here with “halakha,” but as we have already hinted, there are examples in the Talmud that derive halakhot by means of gematria. Beyond that, this is not the formulation Rabbi Samson uses when he wants to say that a principle belongs to aggadic exposition. He says that explicitly, as in the case of notarikon.

It therefore seems that the author of Keritut, when seeking a comprehensive explanation for gematria’s absence from Rabbi Ishmael’s list, is referring also to gematria derashot in the realm of halakha. The case of naziriteship discussed above is a clear example of halakhic drash, but naziriteship is not the only case. Another example is the law — see Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 37a and 14b, and Rashi there — that the Great Sanhedrin in the Chamber of Hewn Stone may never number fewer than fifty members at any given time. This law is derived from the verse in Song of Songs, “Your navel is a rounded bowl; let no mixed wine be lacking,” where the word for “mixed wine” has the numerical value 50. The “rounded bowl” refers to the Sanhedrin, since it sits in a semicircle.⁴

For this reason, Rabbi Samson is not satisfied with the wording of the baraita, which attributes gematria only to aggadic midrash. He therefore argues that Rabbi Ishmael does not accept this principle as valid at all.

Indeed, on this understanding the baraita itself requires explanation, for it implies that gematria serves only in aggadic drash — and that is not so. Apparently, the dispute in the Nazir passage is precisely about this point. Bar Padda disputes Rabbi Matna because the case there is one of halakhic drash. That is, everyone agrees that gematria exists in aggadic drash, and therefore it appears in the baraita of the 32 principles. But with respect to halakhic drash, Rabbi Matna and Bar Padda disagree, and therefore it was not included in Rabbi Ishmael’s baraita. As noted, Rabbi Samson sides with the view that in this matter Rabbi Ishmael follows Bar Padda.

Explaining Rabbi Samson of Chinon’s View: Why Use the Formulation “From Where Do We Know”?

This distinction leads us to clarify the intent of the baraita with respect to the two linguistic observations just noted. We have seen that gematria is used also in halakhic drash. If so, why does the baraita specifically use the term “aggadah”? Another question is why the baraita uses the wording “From where do we know,” as though it were searching for a source, while in fact it brings an example, as we already asked in the essay on Balak regarding notarikon. Beyond that, one can ask more generally: what is the point of seeking a source for any hermeneutical principle? We have a tradition, transmitted to Moses at Sinai, that such is the principle. Is there a source for verbal analogy, or for the other principles? With respect to an a fortiori argument and the principle of a third text that decides between two others — both exceptional principles — see the essay on the Torah portion Beha’alotekha.

It seems that these three questions answer one another. Since there is a dispute over whether gematria may be used in halakhic drash, the question naturally arises whether it may be used in aggadic drash. That is why the opening question specifically uses the term “aggadah.” In response, the baraita brings an example from the sages, not a source from the Torah, showing that gematria is indeed used in aggadic drash as well. The conclusion is that in aggadic midrash this principle is accepted, while the dispute regarding halakhic drash remains unresolved.

It appears that all these difficulties are precisely what led the author of Keritut to say that Rabbi Ishmael disputes this principle in halakha, rather than immediately adopting the wording of the baraita that it is an aggadic principle of interpretation. Thus, in the final analysis, according to Bar Padda and Rabbi Ishmael, this is a principle of aggadic drash.

If so, not only are the words of the author of Keritut not contrary to the baraita; on the contrary, they seem to follow necessarily from its wording. Otherwise, three nontrivial difficulties arise in it.

According to our approach, there emerges the possibility that the formulation “From where do we know” in the baraita of the 32 principles receives different meanings for different principles. With respect to notarikon, we saw that one can suggest an interpretation according to which a source is indeed being sought — and found. With respect to gematria, we are seeking a rabbinic source or an example of application, not a source from the Torah. It is possible, however, that once we understand the formulation “From where do we know” in this way, we should understand it similarly with respect to notarikon and the other three principles to which it is applied.⁵

The Validity of Gematria

Even so, the question of the validity and reliability of this principle remains. At first glance, gematria is a tool by which one can find almost anything, and it is very hard to rely on it in creating new laws. Whether we adopt Rabbi Matna’s view, that it is used also for halakhic drash, or whether we rule like Rabbi Ishmael and Bar Padda, who use it only for aggadic drash, the tool still requires clarification and justification.

The difficulty can be presented from two perspectives:

1. From the perspective of the Author of the Torah. It is obvious that once a language is given and we wish to express something through it, numerical correspondences will inevitably result. We cannot express whatever content we wish and at the same time ensure that the numerical values will always lead only to valid conclusions, whether halakhic or otherwise. These are two separate planes that nevertheless depend on one another; a decision in one plane determines the other, and not always in the proper way.
2. From the perspective of the interpreters of the Torah. One may ask when this tool is to be used at all, and how one can know that one has used it correctly, rather than merely discovering an accidental numerical correspondence in the manner of fanciful preachers.

As for the first question, we already noted in the essay on Balak that the language of the Torah — the sacred tongue — differs from all other languages; see also the essay on Nitzavim on the dynamics of language formation. All languages arose organically, through free use. The rules and words were formed afterward out of the complex of needs and their solutions. By contrast, the sacred tongue arose from a different, indeed opposite, dynamic:⁷ it was created as a complete language by the Holy One, blessed be He, and therefore its rules underlie the language and even preceded it. See further the essay on Ha’azinu.

If so, the initial difficulty becomes entirely different. True, it is still very difficult — for a human being probably impossible — to create a language in which contents are expressed in forms that also fit the relevant numerical values. But there is no reason to assume that the Holy One cannot do so.⁶

The second difficulty is also greatly softened by this picture. It seems that there should always be a correspondence between the contents and the numerical value: if the content is correct, the numerical value that emerges is also correct, since the matter was predetermined by the Holy One. True, mistakes may still be made by the interpreter, because it is not always clear which word belongs to which content, and from which word one should derive. Therefore this principle is indeed somewhat problematic, and some dispute its use in halakha and reserve it only for aggadah — where the chance of error is similar, but the danger posed by error is lower than in halakha. It may be that this is the point at issue between Bar Padda and Rabbi Matna.

We may note that, as we have seen, the possibility of error exists in other hermeneutical principles as well. We have already mentioned several times that some explain the rule that punishment is not imposed on the basis of inference by saying that error is possible even in an a fortiori argument, despite its more logical character. Therefore the possibility of error in gematria does not in principle prevent the use of this principle. That is indeed Rabbi Matna’s view.

The Dispute Between Rabbi Matna and Bar Padda

We remarked above that there is a difficulty in explaining the dispute between Bar Padda and Rabbi Matna in terms of the speculative and amorphous nature of gematria. The main argument was that Bar Padda’s alternative — the number of occurrences in the Torah — seems no less speculative. But in light of what we have said here, we can now see that this is not so.

If there is indeed a correspondence between the content of the Torah’s wording and the numerical values produced from it, then there is probably also a correspondence between the content and the number of times the relevant word appears. But here the possibility of error on the part of the interpreter or expositor is much smaller. The number of possible gematria calculations one can make from the various words in a passage is almost infinite. But how many possibilities are there for counting a relevant word that appears in the Torah? The number is quite limited, and it is not even especially difficult for human beings to plan and carry out, unlike gematria. Therefore the chance of error is much lower. In other words, if we indeed received from Sinai that the number of occurrences is itself a hermeneutical principle latent in Scripture — that is, a tool used by the Holy One to embed information in Scripture⁷ — then it is not so hard to use this tool in order to derive different halakhot. For this reason, this tool is an accepted hermeneutical principle even in halakhic drash.

A Qualification: The Conditions for Using Gematria

It stands to reason that we do not always use these tools. Even so, it seems that there is a measure of speculation involved in applying them everywhere indiscriminately. It is quite clear that the sages did not do so, because there are not all that many such derashot.

We are also familiar with other rabbinic statements that see these tools as a kind of improvisational exegetical device. In other words, they classify such derivations as allusion rather than drash. See the essay on Balak. For example, in Avot 3:18, and likewise in Avot de-Rabbi Natan chapter 27:¹⁰

Rabbi Eliezer ben Hisma says: The laws of bird-offerings and the determinations of menstrual impurity are the very body of halakhot; astronomical calculations and gematria are the side dishes of wisdom.

How does this fit with the harmonious picture described above, at least according to Rabbi Matna? Presumably, even according to Rabbi Matna, there are rules governing when we should use these interpretive tools. For example, when halakhic information is lacking and we do not find it through other hermeneutical principles; or when we encounter an extra word for which we have no explanation and no other drash; then we may try to seek solutions through these principles as well. Those conditions have been lost to us over time, together with the skill of using the methods of drash in general.

An Example of a Condition for Using Gematria

It may be that one of the indications of when the principle of gematria is to be used is when we are searching for a number for some purpose. In such a case, we should seek it through gematria, which is almost the only tool that yields a numerical result. A derivation based on counting occurrences in the Torah is of the same type. According to this, a drash that equates two words because they have the same numerical value is not valid as a hermeneutical principle. Gematria is only a rule for searching for numbers in halakha: the number of judges required for a monetary court or for an appraisal court, the minimum number who must remain on the Great Court, the number of days in an unspecified naziriteship, and the like.⁸ And indeed, as far as we know, we do not find in halakha a gematria derivation that equates two contexts because the words involved share the same numerical value. Such derivations are more speculative, and their use is apparently confined to the homilies of ordinary preachers, certainly not to halakha.

To determine and reconstruct all the conditions and circumstances for using gematria and similar principles would require more systematic study of these methods, and this is not the place for that.

Between the Hermeneutical Principles of Halakha and Aggadah

We have already seen more than once that there are hermeneutical principles used in aggadah that are not used in halakha. The question is why this is so. What distinguishes these principles from all the others?

One could say that this is simply a decree of Scripture. The Holy One gave us a list of principles and classified them into principles for halakha and principles for aggadah. Such was His wide wisdom. But even so, this seems unlikely. Why should different interpretive tools be established for halakhic drash and aggadic drash?

There is another interesting point, to which, as far as I know, no one has yet drawn attention. There are indeed aggadic principles that are not used in halakhic drash. But the reverse does not occur: there are no principles of halakhic drash that are not used in aggadah. Why is that? This seems to suggest that there is something more stringent about halakha than about aggadah, and therefore halakha allows the use of only part of the aggadic toolkit.

Indeed, from the picture that has emerged so far, it follows that the distinction is that in aggadic drash we are less concerned about the consequences of error — though not less concerned for truth itself — and therefore we are prepared to allow interpretive tools that cannot serve us in halakha.⁹

One exception we have encountered is the principle of “a matter that went out from the general rule.” In aggadah, it teaches only about itself, whereas in halakha it teaches about the whole category. We explained there — see the essays on Hukat and especially Pinhas — that the Torah itself formulates non-halakhic verses differently, and therefore we interpret them differently. At first glance, this is a substantive difference between aggadah and halakha, not just a technical concern about error. But there too we saw that in circumstances where a formulation of halakhic character appears in aggadah, we interpret the verse just as we would under the halakhic principle.

Two Implications

An important implication of what we have said here is that although in practice one may not use the aggadic hermeneutical principles for halakhic midrashim, all this is only because of concern for error. In principle, these forms of drash — if performed correctly — are valid for the halakhic realm as well. If so, it is nevertheless important to be aware of them even in the halakhic sphere, provided that one uses them judiciously and carefully.

For example, if there is a law whose source we do not know, and what we need is a sustaining, supportive drash rather than a creative one, it may be possible to ground it even by means of aggadic hermeneutical principles. In such a case, the concern for error is low, because the law itself guides the drash, and the concern over the significance of error is also low, since the law is already known.¹⁰

Another implication is that we should not be surprised if we find exceptions — that is, derashot employing these principles within the realm of halakha. There may be cases in which we have sufficient confidence that we have not erred, based on various indications, as in the case of the sustaining drash just mentioned, and in such cases we may permit ourselves to use aggadic principles of interpretation in the halakhic domain as well.¹¹

B. The Counting of the Mitzvot

Introduction

The topic of counting the mitzvot is vast. Its root lies in the statement of Rabbi Simlai at the end of tractate Makkot cited above, which sets the total number of mitzvot in the Torah at 613. Already here we should note that this source stands alone in rabbinic literature, for we have no other clear source that establishes this number.

Nahmanides, at the beginning of his glosses on Maimonides’ principles of enumeration, indeed wonders why all those who counted the mitzvot accepted Rabbi Simlai’s statement as an absolute and binding truth. He raises three objections:

1. It may be that this is Rabbi Simlai’s own view, but not an agreed one.
2. This is an aggadic drash, and one should not rely on it in a way that has consequences. On those consequences, see below. This reminds us of the previous chapter: in aggadic drash we are less exacting and less concerned about error.
3. Even Rabbi Simlai’s own meaning requires clarification. Does he mean that it is accepted tradition that the total number of mitzvot is 613, or does he mean that after counting all the mitzvot according to his own method across the whole halakhic corpus, the result comes to 613?[^^15] According to the second possibility, even Rabbi Simlai himself is not appealing to such a tradition. He is simply counting all the mitzvot as he understands them and arriving at this number. Other sages, who disagree with him about many mitzvot, as is the way of Torah, would certainly not necessarily arrive at a total of 613 mitzvot.

Nahmanides himself, in the end, retreats from this challenge and accepts the tradition of 613 mitzvot, since all those who enumerated the mitzvot, and all sages in every generation, did not dispute it. All understood that Rabbi Simlai was transmitting a number of significance, not an accidental number.¹²

The Midrash Itself

According to Nahmanides’ initial suggestion, it is very hard to understand why Rabbi Simlai brings a gematria that supports what would then be merely an accidental number. It would seem from this that the number has significance for him, and is not merely the accidental sum total of the mitzvot. True, if gematria is only a loose allusion, this consideration is not so strong. Perhaps that is indeed Nahmanides’ view, since he does not regard this statement as binding. According to our approach, gematria is a genuine hermeneutical principle, at least in the realm of aggadah — and see below how our case should be classified — and therefore Rabbi Simlai’s words do indeed indicate that the number here is essential and not accidental. This is another implication of our claim about gematria in section A.

But the continuation of the midrash also clearly shows that this number has a priori significance and was not reached by chance, since it compares the number of mitzvot to the number of limbs and to the days of the year. At least according to Rabbi Simlai, there is significance to there being 613 mitzvot, since each mitzvah stands opposite either a limb in the human being or a day in the year. Thus the number 613 is essential, not accidental.

There is a parallel midrash in Bamidbar Rabbah 18, in the section beginning “ka mantzepakh ha-otiyyot,” which states:[^17]

The tablets contained 613 mitzvot, corresponding to the letters from “I am the Lord your God” until “that belongs to your fellow” — no fewer and no more. All of them were given to Moses at Sinai, including statutes, ordinances, Torah, Mishnah, Talmud, and aggadah. As it says, “The fear of the Lord, that is His treasure” in Isaiah 33. Among all the virtues there is nothing greater than fear and humility. As it says in Deuteronomy 10: “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you? Only to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all His ways, to love Him, and to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.” The numerical value of the word “fear” is 611, and the numerical value of the word “Torah” is 611; with fear and Torah together, they make 613. The word for ritual fringes has the numerical value 600; with eight threads and five knots, that makes 613 — two above and three below.

This midrash too finds numerical significance in the number 613 and shows that the number is not arbitrary or accidental.¹³

The Difference Between Prohibitions and Positive Commandments

The midrash finds significance in the number of positive commandments, 248, as matching the number of the human limbs. By contrast, when it comes to the prohibitions, whose number is 365, we would have expected it to compare them to the number of sinews in the human body.¹⁴ Yet this midrash, and parallel ones, compare them instead to the number of days in the year.

At first glance, the association with the number of limbs indicates that each positive commandment repairs one particular limb in the person, as the kabbalists explained, and therefore the number of commandments equals the number of limbs. By contrast, the second association seems like a homily lacking substantive meaning. Why should the prohibitions correspond to the number of days in the year? It would seem that the number 365 is not in fact essential, but only the total that Rabbi Simlai happened to reach, for which a parallel was then found after the fact.

True, parallel midrashim explain that each day says to a person: do not sin through me. But even that does not seem like a substantive relation. There is no compelling reason to say that each prohibition repairs — or can damage — a different day of the year. If so, the two numerical associations are of different character. One appears to be a substantive comparison, whereas the other appears to be mere homiletics.

Perhaps this may also be inferred from the shift in Rabbi Simlai’s wording. The positive commandments are “corresponding to” the limbs, whereas the prohibitions are merely “equal in number to” the days of the solar year. That is, in the case of the prohibitions we are dealing only with an allusion, while the comparison to the limbs is substantive.

Maimonides’ View

But from Maimonides’ language it appears that both numbers are exact and intentional. In the third principle of enumeration, Maimonides discusses whether to count commandments that do not apply for all generations, such as the jar of manna and the like. In the course of his polemic with Halakhot Gedolot, which in his view counted such commandments, he writes:

Their statement as well — that each and every limb is as though commanding a person to perform a mitzvah, and each and every day is as though warning him against transgression — is proof that this number can never be diminished. For if the enumeration included commandments that do not apply in all generations, then this total would be lacking at the time when the obligation of that commandment had ceased, and this statement would be complete only for a limited period.

Maimonides argues that if Halakhot Gedolot were correct, and one had to count commandments that do not apply for all generations, then there would be periods in history in which we were not obligated in 613 mitzvot. But the midrash states that every day tells a person not to commit transgressions in it, and that would not hold. Maimonides therefore proves from this midrash that the count of the mitzvot cannot include commandments that do not apply for all generations.

From these words of Maimonides it follows that he understood the number of 365 prohibitions as well to be a count of substantive significance, not a mere homiletic flourish. He derives from it a meta-halakhic position, one that also has genuine halakhic implications.¹⁵

Halakhic Implications

Why is it important at all to count the mitzvot? Does the fact that the count is essential rather than accidental — that all of us are obliged to arrive at a total of 613 mitzvot — have halakhic implications?

In the book Toledot Adam, by the brother of the Vilna Gaon, it is reported that he did not deal at all with the counting of the mitzvot, because he saw no importance in it. And indeed, we find comments and observations by the Vilna Gaon on all areas of Torah, but we do not find treatment of the counting of the mitzvot.

The reason for this approach is that in truth there is no direct importance to whether a given law is counted among the mitzvot or not. There are laws that are not counted in the enumeration for halakhic reasons — laws that are rabbinic enactments or decrees, or, according to Maimonides’ second principle, even laws derived by drash. But quite a few biblical laws are not included in the count for various technical reasons, such as being included under another mitzvah. Maimonides discusses these reasons in his principles.

Therefore, the fact that a mitzvah is not counted in the enumeration has no direct halakhic consequence. One may still incur lashes for violating it, and certainly it may still be a biblical obligation. Rabbi Yerucham Fishel Perla, in the introduction to his edition of Saadia Gaon’s Sefer HaMitzvot (sec. 10), writes that the only consequence of the counting of the mitzvot is the obligation to preserve the total count. That is, the fact that we are obliged to arrive at a total of 248 positive commandments and 365 prohibitions forces us to remove one mitzvah every time we add another, and vice versa. The considerations for excluding or including any given mitzvah in the count are, at least in part, bound up with our understanding and definition of the mitzvot under discussion. Those definitions do have halakhic implications.

For example, Rabbi Perla explains that many mitzvot counted by the early enumerators have, in his view, no source for their being obligatory other than the need to complete the count — and conversely, that they omitted mitzvot which the Talmuds imply are obligatory. One example is the mitzvah of eating ordinary non-sacrificial meat, which Saadia Gaon counts from the verse, “When the Lord your God enlarges your border and you say, ‘I will eat meat,’” although there is no tannaitic or amoraic source for understanding this as a halakhic obligation. He cites many additional examples there.

Is This a Halakhic Drash?

We conclude by connecting the two parts of this essay. In light of what we have said here, it seems that Rabbi Simlai’s drash is a halakhic drash, since it has halakhic implications, even if indirect. If so, Rabbi Simlai’s midrash is a gematria used in halakhic drash. It follows that according to the author of Keritut, Bar Padda, who disputes the validity of gematria in halakhic drash — and likewise Rabbi Ishmael in the baraita of the principles — presumably disputes this midrash as well. If so, according to that view there is no source at all for the fact that there are 613 mitzvot, and we return to Nahmanides’ difficulty.

The only possible resolution is that the number was given to us by tradition. Rabbi Simlai proposed a gematria source — since here we are looking for a number, and these are the very circumstances that allow a gematria drash, as we explained above — but Bar Padda and Rabbi Ishmael, who do not accept gematria as a sufficient source, may still accept it as a sustaining drash for a number that was received by tradition. And indeed, Nahmanides himself, in his final conclusion, does not base the source of the number 613 on Rabbi Simlai’s drash, but on the tradition received from Sinai.

Footnotes