Vayishlach (5765)

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 — on the eve of the Sabbath, Parashat Vayishlah, 5766

Questions

1. Why engage at all in supportive derivations?
2. Is there a sharp distinction between creative and supportive derivations?
3. Is midrashic Platonism applicable to textual principles as well?
4. What does all this have to do with expounding ordinary language?

The principles

• gezerah shavah (verbal analogy)
• kelal u-ferat u-kelal (generalization, specification, and generalization)

A. Summary from Last Year

“Jacob sent messengers ahead of him to Esau his brother.”

— Genesis 32:4

Rashi: “Actual angels.”

— ad loc.

“He wished to send envoys to Esau, but no one was willing to go, for they were afraid. He arose and sent the ministering angels.”

— Yelammedenu, ad loc.

“These messengers were none other than flesh-and-blood agents. But the Rabbis say: actual angels. If Eliezer, who was merely a servant of the household, had an angel accompany him, then this one, who was the beloved of the household, all the more so. Rabbi Hama bar Hanina said: Hagar was Sarah’s maidservant, and five angels encountered her; this one, who was the beloved of the household, all the more so. Rabbi Yosei Yannai said: Joseph was the youngest of the tribes, and three angels encountered him: ‘A man found him,’ ‘the man asked him,’ ‘the man said: They have departed…’ — so this one, who was their father, all the more so.”

— Genesis Rabbah 75:4

In last year’s essay we discussed the dispute presented in the midrashim (rabbinic interpretations), and later also among the early commentators on Scripture, over whether the messengers Jacob sent to Esau were human envoys or actual angels. We surveyed several difficulties in these midrashim, and especially why this question is relevant to us at all.

We focused on the nature of the qal va-homer (a fortiori inference) that appears in the midrash, explained it and the conceptual assumption on which it rests, and saw that the formula “all the more so” indicates a qal va-homer grounded in reasoning, that is, the third type of qal va-homer defined in the essay on Parashat Noah. The conceptual axis underlying that inference is based on the criterion of how close the person under discussion is to the household of Abraham our father, to the people of Israel, and to the Holy One, blessed be He.

In light of a preliminary examination of the interpretive situation before the midrashic considerations are introduced, we saw that the simpler interpretation from the standpoint of ordinary reasoning is that the messengers were flesh-and-blood human beings. By contrast, the literal wording leans more toward heavenly angels. The reason that interpretation is conceptually difficult is that we are not accustomed to heavenly angels carrying out the mission of a human being and submitting to his authority. By their very nature, they are emissaries of God alone.

In the end, we proposed a solution to the difficulties in these midrashim by assuming that the midrash is intended to correct the impression created by the plain meaning of the biblical text. The plain sense portrays Jacob in a rather negative light. He appears, at least ostensibly, as a deceiver and an opportunist. Esau, by contrast, appears as an upright man who is cheated by him and who, in his bitterness, seeks revenge.

The midrash tries to correct that impression by showing us that Jacob is close both to the house of Abraham and to his Father in Heaven; that he, specifically, is the righteous figure in this story. The way the midrash does this is by means of a technique we called “inverted midrash.” In ordinary midrash, the goal is to clarify some interpretive or legal question, and the tools used in that clarification are the various hermeneutical principles. In “inverted midrash,” the goal is only an apparent goal, whose entire function is to display the considerations that lead to it. According to our proposal, the question whether the messengers were actual angels serves the authors of the midrash as a vehicle for presenting Jacob’s righteousness, by means of the qal va-homer considerations that “solve” that midrashic question. Precisely those reasonings that underlie the qal va-homer arguments are the true purpose of the midrash. They show us that Jacob was close both to the “household” and to the “Master of the house.”

At the end of the essay we noted that a similar phenomenon also occurs in halakhic midrash (legal rabbinic interpretation). There it is called “supportive midrash.” In the essay on Parashat Hayyei Sarah 5765, we distinguished between two kinds of halakhic midrash: “creative midrash,” which serves as the basis for generating an unknown halakha (Jewish law), and “supportive midrash” (or “upholding midrash”), which is used to find an anchor for a known law that has been received by tradition. A supportive midrash is, apparently, an “inverted midrash.” The goal of the midrash, that is, the law derived from it, is already known in advance. It is no more than a catalyst, used to display the midrashic arguments that lead to it.

The obvious question is why we need supportive midrash at all. After all, the law is known to us in advance, and the considerations that lead to it are merely technical. Why, then, did the Sages engage in supportive midrashim at all? Is there any point to “inverted legal midrashim”? At the end of the essay we hinted at possible directions for answering this question, and in our essay this week we shall broaden the discussion.

B. Why Are Supportive Midrashim Needed? Halakhic Significance

Introduction

Some explain that a supportive derivation exists only in order to magnify Torah and glorify it. Others say that the purpose of the derivation is to show that tradition is anchored in the Written Torah, that is, to link the Oral Torah with the Written Torah. Our assumption is that supportive derivation also has significance of its own, legal and otherwise. We shall try here to survey the full range of possibilities for seeing an intrinsic significance in supportive midrash. The essay is divided into two chapters: one deals with the legal significance of supportive midrashim, and the second deals with more general significance.

1. A “Creative” Significance of Supportive Midrash

We are dealing with a situation in which a given derivation is supportive. That is, the law derived from it has been received by tradition and is already known to us, and the derivation is intended only to anchor it in Scripture by means of hermeneutical principles. There is legal importance and significance to the fact that we have planted a midrashic peg in a particular biblical word, and from these standpoints there is something akin to creative midrash here. This can be seen on several main planes.

a. First, it is possible that the law was known to us, but its legal status was unclear. If we find an anchor for it by means of hermeneutical principles, then it has the status of biblical law, according to most medieval authorities. In Maimonides’ view in the Second Root, the status of laws derived through midrashic principles is that of rabbinic law.¹ If so, there is a creative dimension here from a legal standpoint, yet it can still be defined as supportive midrash.

In Maimonides’ approach there is an opposite novelty: the status of a law received by tradition, even if it is known to us as a law given to Moses at Sinai, is that of rabbinic law. But if it has a midrashic anchor in Scripture, then its status becomes that of biblical law.²

b. A second direction that gives legal significance to supportive midrash is a case in which the supportive derivation confirms a line of reasoning or a principle that can also be applied in other contexts.³ It can be shown that a legal or aggadic derivation often does not stand alone. There is a line of reasoning that leads to it and supports its conclusions, and that forms an inseparable part of the derivation itself. In such situations, the derivation confirms that very line of reasoning, and that has many implications for applying the same reasoning in other contexts as well. In this way, one can generate new laws.

c. A clear and unique example of a process similar to the previous one is the principle of gezerah shavah.⁴ The Gemara in Babylonian Talmud, Keritot 22b, rules that there is no such thing as a partial gezerah shavah. Thus, suppose we know that a woman can be betrothed by money, and we find an anchor for that in the verses through the gezerah shavah of “taking” and “taking.” This is indeed a supportive derivation, but now we can derive additional new laws from it, since gezerah shavah does not operate by halves. Thus the supportive derivation serves as the basis for deriving further laws through parallel and branching derivations that will have a creative character.

d. Another example of a mechanism that gives supportive derivations legal meaning and importance is the principle according to which the location of the midrashic anchor in Scripture may significantly determine the parameters of the law under discussion. For example, if we learn the fact that a woman can be betrothed by money from the gezerah shavah of “taking” and “taking” from a field, then it may follow that we should understand betrothal as a kind of acquisition, like the acquisition of a field. Such a conception has many legal and philosophical implications. By contrast, if the midrashic source for this law is different, a completely different legal and philosophical conception may emerge from it.⁵

e. There is another direction, different in essence, that gives the act of supportive derivation legal significance, even when there is complete certainty regarding the status and parameters of the law in question. To illustrate this, let us consider the derivation in Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot 9a. In the sugya there, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah and Rabbi Akiva disagree about the latest time for eating the Paschal offering:

“For it was taught: ‘They shall eat the flesh on this night.’ Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah says: It is stated here, ‘on this night,’ and it is stated there, ‘I will pass through the land of Egypt on this night.’ Just as there it means until midnight, so too here it means until midnight. Rabbi Akiva said to him: But has it not already been said, ‘in haste’ — that is, until the time of haste, namely dawn. If so, what is the purpose of ‘at night’? One might have thought that it may be eaten like consecrated offerings in the daytime; therefore Scripture says, ‘at night’ — it is eaten at night and not during the day.”

“This is well according to Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah, who accepts the gezerah shavah, for that reason ‘this’ had to be written. But according to Rabbi Akiva, what does he do with this word ‘this’? It comes to exclude the following night.”

Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah derives from the words “on this night,” by means of a gezerah shavah, that the Paschal offering may be eaten only until midnight. Rabbi Akiva derives from the word “in haste” that it may be eaten until dawn. The word “night” is now left superfluous. Suppose Rabbi Akiva’s derivation is supportive rather than creative. Even so, because this is his derivation, the word “night” is now available for further derivations, and new laws can be derived from it by means of creative midrash. By contrast, if Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah derives differently, then the word “night” is not available for another derivation. He will therefore disagree with the law that would emerge from the creative derivation Rabbi Akiva performs on the basis of that word.

We thus have a case in which a new law is generated in dependence on a supportive derivation. Even if we have performed only a supportive derivation, the result is that certain words in Scripture become clarified as “occupied,” and other words thereby become clarified as “available.” Thus other creative derivations that rest on those words can either be generated or ruled out.

In light of all this, it seems very important to examine the anchoring of all laws in Scripture by means of supportive derivations, if only in order to know the role of each word in Scripture on the midrashic plane, and from which words one may still derive new laws.⁶

All this has been said about a type of talmudic discussion that deals with clarifying the sources for a given law; for example, when the Gemara asks from where Sage A learns the law stated by Sage B. But when the Gemara deals with clarifying the function of various sources, for example, when in the course of the dialectical give-and-take it asks what Sage A does with a word that Sage B used for some purpose, Sage A usually answers that he derives from it another, new law. In such contexts too, the dispute over the supportive derivation can generate a new law. There are hundreds of such examples throughout rabbinic literature.

2. The Collapse of the Dichotomous Distinction between Creative and Supportive Midrash⁷

Until now we have assumed that the distinction between creative and supportive midrash is sharp and clear, but as we shall see, this is not so. This point can further clarify the value of supportive derivations, and can also remove many puzzling obscurities in various sugyot. Here we shall present it briefly, only insofar as is necessary for our present discussion.

In the essay on Parashat Miketz last year, we mentioned an important introduction relating to the principle of gezerah shavah; see also the end of the essay on Parashat Vayishlah 5765. The Talmud, in Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim 66a and parallels, states that although a person may derive a qal va-homer on his own, he may not derive a gezerah shavah on his own. It is customary to interpret this to mean that a gezerah shavah derivation always comes down by tradition from the revelation at Mount Sinai; see, for example, Rashi there, and also Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 11b, s.v. “we do not derive,” and Nahmanides in his glosses to the Second Root.

The author of Kinat Soferim on the Second Root writes that according to Maimonides’ view, which holds that the legal status of laws that arise from derivations by the thirteen principles is that of rabbinic law, it would seem that even gezerah shavah derivations were not given at Sinai. When the Sages said that a person may not derive a gezerah shavah on his own, the intention is that only the supreme court may derive by gezerah shavah, not necessarily that the derivation must actually have been received by tradition from Moses at the revelation at Sinai.

Many have already noted that, at least in Rashi’s view and that of his school, which is the overwhelming majority among the medieval authorities, it is very difficult to understand several phenomena found in the Talmud: the fact that there are disputes regarding gezerah shavah, see Babylonian Talmud, Hullin 88a; the fact that we find praise for someone who discovered a source for a certain law through gezerah shavah, see Babylonian Talmud, Shevuot 7a; and the further point, noted by Nahmanides and others in their comments on this root, that if everything was indeed transmitted from Sinai, it is very difficult to understand why gezerah shavah is called “a principle by which the Torah is expounded,” since there would be no room in it at all for the Sages’ own derivation.

For this reason, many medieval authorities wrote, see for example Nahmanides on the Second Root, pp. 60-64, that the intention is not that a gezerah shavah was given from Sinai exactly as it stands; see, for example, Halikhot Olam, gate 4, and others. Sometimes a certain law was transmitted to Moses, together with the fact that it is learned by gezerah shavah, but without telling him in what form and from where. Sometimes the source was transmitted but not the law. Sometimes the hermeneutical principle was transmitted, but not the precise word, and so on.

For our purposes, it is very important to notice that this picture greatly qualifies the dichotomy created by the usual division between creative and supportive midrash. There are very many derivations in which there is a creative component, but there are also components given to us by tradition. If the law is given to us by tradition, then the derivation is supportive. If the law is not given, then the derivation is creative, even though sometimes it does so with the aid of several other data that were indeed received by tradition, such as the sources for the derivation and/or the hermeneutical principle to be used. It is also possible that the law itself was transmitted to us only partially; for example, we were told that there is a comparison between a field and a woman regarding betrothal, but we were not told exactly what its parameters are.

If so, the creativity in creative midrash is not free but guided by components received by tradition. It includes components that are supportive in essence, namely those received by tradition, and components that are creative in essence, namely those we add by our own reasoning in order to complete the derivation. Such a midrash is partly creative and partly supportive, and it is difficult to classify it sharply under one pole or the other. In any case, even here it is certainly very important to carry out the derivation, since it contains a great deal of new information, especially in light of all the aspects we presented in the previous section.

C. Why Are Supportive Midrashim Needed? Non-Legal Significance

Introduction

There is another way to understand the benefit of performing supportive derivations for known laws. Sometimes the derivation is meant to teach us something that emerges from the very mode of derivation itself, and not necessarily from the direct legal consequences of the derivation.

Preliminary Remark⁸

First, let us recall that in the sheet on Parashat Noah we saw that the place and logical significance of the system of hermeneutical principles can be understood in three basic ways:

1. The principles are something like an axiomatic system, or an interpretive-derivational code that is arbitrary in character.
2. The principles are an alternative logic in place of ordinary logic.
3. The principles are a basis for principles that have philosophical significance.

In that essay we noted that some people, especially in our own day, understand the system of principles as a deeper, prophetic logic, a logic different from ordinary logic. The statements of Rabbi ha-Nazir, who in several places speaks as though the system of principles constitutes a special Hebrew logic, “auditory” in his terminology, that stands in contrast to Greek, “visual” logic, apparently express such views and serve as their inspiration.⁹

But that approach, taken straightforwardly, is problematic, if not impossible. It is implausible that we are required, or even able, to abandon the mode of thought of classical logic when we engage in Torah. Classical logic is forced upon us, like all mortals.

Therefore our conclusion was that the principles are forms of thought constructed on top of formal deductive logic. In the essay on Parashat Noah 5765, we distinguished between two basic forms of thought: analytic and synthetic.¹⁰ Ordinary logic deals only with the forms of deduction, that is, with forms of analytic thought. By contrast, the system of hermeneutical principles is a kind of map of the fundamental analogical and inductive ways of thinking, that is, of forms of synthetic thought. This is the meaning of the third approach listed above.

According to this third approach, and only according to it, there is room to learn from the principles themselves philosophical principles, for they are not arbitrary rules, a kind of code, but principles with significance in their own right. In the essay on Parashat Bereshit 5765, we called this approach “midrashic Platonism.” This approach sees the principles as forms of thought whose validity extends beyond the biblical text.

The Significance for Supportive Midrashim

Let us now return to our subject, namely the significance of supportive derivation. What we gain from using the hermeneutical principles, even when they serve only to support existing laws, is the development of synthetic capacities, that is, analogical and inductive capacities. The use of the methods of derivation sharpens our analogical and inductive ability. There is here something like a school for analogy, or for synthetic thought in general. In fact, it is important to note that, unlike the legal consequences discussed above, these results are achieved specifically when the derivation is supportive and not when it is creative. In such cases, the law itself, which has been transmitted to us by tradition from Sinai, gives us an indication that we have used the methods of derivation correctly, and hence also the analogical and inductive methods of thought correctly. By contrast, in creative derivation we have no such indication, since we cannot know independently whether our conclusions are correct. Thus the law transmitted to us from Sinai serves as feedback on our use of synthetic forms of inference, feedback that builds our capacities in these fields.

These capacities have legal implications, since interpretation of the Torah is based entirely on such capacities. The language of Nahmanides in the introduction to his book Milhamot Hashem is well known:

“For the wisdom of our Torah is not like the wisdom of astronomy and geometry, whose demonstrations are conclusive…”

It should be noted that even these implications can exist on two different planes:

1. After the law, or the line of reasoning, that we extracted in a specific derivation has been confirmed, we can learn something about the Torah, and perhaps even about the world, according to the approach of midrashic Platonism.
2. But here our main intention is the implications that arise from the mere fact that we possess a more developed analogical capacity. Some would call this “Torah intuition.” The application of that capacity yields legal implications in all areas of Torah, and not only as a direct result of some specific law whose anchoring was the subject of our midrash.

The development of these capacities has implications in very broad areas. A person endowed with a more developed analogical and inductive ability can also reach important conclusions in other fields of thought, such as science and more. At present there is no detailed map of the ways of analogy and induction, since, as noted, the theory of logic hardly deals with them. This is a nonmathematical map, for it is impossible to chart these paths with precision, as we are accustomed to do with logical-mathematical inferences. Hence the vague and non-univocal character of the hermeneutical principles. But one who becomes skilled in using them can use them reliably, and derive conclusions from them in a fairly unambiguous way, at least no less unambiguous than plain-sense reasoning, regarding which disputes can also arise.

To conclude this section, let us note that Rabbi ha-Nazir sees the auditory logic, as it appears in the hermeneutical principles, as a prophetic logic that constitutes the focus and root of the revival of prophecy in Israel. In a state in which prophecy dwells among us, we shall be able to examine inductive and analogical inference with “precise” tools, and we shall have certainty regarding the conclusions of such inferences, as in the deductive case. As a result, the distinction between emotion and intuition, which is part of the intellect, will be sharpened, a distinction that now appears vague and elusive.¹¹ In that way, the fog that hovers over the hermeneutical principles will also disperse.

Linguistic and Logical Principles

Everything said in the previous sections is general. But are all the hermeneutical principles in fact tools of inference that are also applicable to other fields, beyond biblical interpretation and derivation?

In this context one must distinguish, within the system of hermeneutical principles, between principles of a logical character and principles of a linguistic character. This distinction occupied us in several essays last year. For example, in the essay on Parashat Pinhas we dealt with gezerah shavah, qal va-homer, binyan av (reasoning from a paradigm case), and the principle of “a matter that was included in a general rule.” There we distinguished between two meanings of the difference between linguistic or textual derivation and logical derivation:

1. from the standpoint of the motivation for performing the derivation;
2. and from the standpoint of the derivational inference itself.

We saw there that gezerah shavah is the textual pole of the hermeneutical principles, and it is textual both from the standpoint of the motivation for performing the derivation, namely the similarity between words in two biblical contexts, and from the standpoint of the inference itself, for the transfer from one context to the other is made formally, although that is not always so. By contrast, binyan av and qal va-homer are two plainly logical principles: the motivation for performing the derivation is not some phenomenon in the biblical text, but data embedded in the content of the biblical verses. And the inference too is logical in character, a type of inference that serves us in other intellectual contexts as well.

With regard to qal va-homer and binyan av, that is, analogy, and perhaps induction as well, it is easy to see why these are principles with general significance, meaning that midrashic Platonism is applicable to them. The question is what should be said about a principle like gezerah shavah, which is textual in its essence. Can lessons learned from gezerah shavah be applied to other fields of knowledge and thought? What justifies midrashic Platonism with respect to principles of a textual character? In the concluding discussion we shall try to illustrate our point specifically with regard to textual principles such as gezerah shavah or kelal u-ferat u-kelal.

Midrashic Platonism with Respect to Gezerah Shavah

When we seek universal significance in gezerah shavah derivations, we can do so on two planes, corresponding to what was said above: the plane of the content of a specific gezerah shavah, and the plane of the principle of gezerah shavah itself.

A specific gezerah shavah: gezerah shavah derivations confirm lines of reasoning and analogies between two different contexts. Many of those reasonings and analogies are insights that can also be applied in non-Torah contexts. In the essay on Parashat Hayyei Sarah 5765, we saw that a gezerah shavah between a woman and a field teaches us something about the concept of acquisition, and also about the metaphysics that lies behind it.

The assumption here is that gezerah shavah is not merely a formal tool, but sometimes serves as a textual hint to the existence of a substantive analogy. We have dealt with this point several times in the past.

The principle of gezerah shavah itself: it is possible that the hermeneutical principle of gezerah shavah can be applied in broader contexts beyond scriptural midrash. This itself is a possible consequence of the use of this principle, since it can be applied to ordinary language as well. But the broader philosophical implication follows from the question why it is in fact possible to use hermeneutical principles with respect to ordinary language.

Expounding Ordinary Language

In Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia 104a-104b, the Gemara brings a tannaitic dispute as to whether one expounds ordinary language. In its usual sense, the intention here is not “midrash” in its conventional meaning, but the understanding of a text from the context in which it was spoken or written. Sometimes the term “expounding ordinary language” is used to say that one recognizes the enactments adopted by various communities; see Mishpat Ivri by Menachem Elon, vol. 1, p. 350 and following. However, the medieval authorities wrote that the term “midrash” is not being used here casually; rather, it is clear that what is involved is interpretation that does not follow the plain sense. For example, Tosafot, s.v. “he would expound,” there in the sugya, and see also s.v. “the reason,” write as follows:

“He would expound formulas that the Sages did not institute to be written, but that ordinary people had become accustomed to write; and even if they were not written, it is as though they were written. For if it applied only when they were actually written, what would there be to expound? It is obvious that one must uphold the condition exactly as he stipulated, for this is not a mere allusive support.”

As noted, usually the meaning of “derivation” here is no more than taking the context into account. But we found an interesting exception that is worth presenting here, although not with regard to gezerah shavah but with regard to kelal u-ferat u-kelal. In Responsa of Mahari Minz, no. 7, he discusses the scope of the authority of the majority of a community to coerce the minority. He cites a responsum of Maharam of Rothenburg that deals with this issue, and analyzes isolated sentences in Maharam’s wording by means of kelal u-ferat u-kelal. He writes:

“And now, my beloved, set your hearts upon the highway that goes up to Bet El, and do not turn aside from the path shown us by the Gaon, which he instructed and ruled, to right and left, for his ways are ways of pleasantness and all his paths are peace. Behold, he arranged the matter by saying: ‘all householders who pay the tax must answer…’ Then he ruled in the mode of a specification: ‘and they shall follow the majority, whether for choosing leaders…’ Then he ruled in the mode of a generalization: ‘in sum, all the needs of the community shall be carried out according to them, whatever they say.’ Thus the generalization adds to the specification, meaning even a matter that is not actually similar to the preceding specification. This is the Torah principle according to which the generalization adds to the specification, as explained.”

Another example may be found in Tosefta Gittin 2:6, which states:

“Everyone is deemed reliable to bring her bill of divorce, even her son, even her daughter, and even the five women who are not believed when they say, ‘My husband died,’ are believed to bring her bill of divorce: her mother-in-law, her mother-in-law’s daughter, her co-wife, her levirate sister-in-law, and her husband’s daughter. Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar says in the name of Rabbi Akiva: A woman herself may bring her own bill of divorce by a qal va-homer. If her co-wife, who is not believed when she says, ‘My husband died,’ is believed to bring her bill of divorce, then she, who is believed when she says, ‘My husband died,’ is it not all the more so that she should be believed to bring her bill of divorce? The conclusion drawn from an a fortiori inference may be no more stringent than its premise: just as her co-wife must say, ‘It was written in my presence and signed in my presence,’ so too she must say, ‘It was written in my presence and signed in my presence.'”

The Tosefta here applies qal va-homer and its formal limitation to laws that are all rabbinic, namely the credibility to say “It was written in my presence” regarding a bill of divorce. Although qal va-homer is a principle that can be applied in non-biblical contexts, the wording of the Tosefta makes it quite clear that what we have here is a formal application of the principle, together with a formal qualification of it.¹²

Why Can Ordinary Language Really Be Expounded in This Way?

This is an unusual derivation, but precisely for that reason it demands interpretation. How can one apply a hermeneutical principle whose purpose is to expound the language of the Torah to the ordinary language, that is, to non-biblical language, of a legal decisor? Apparently what lies behind this is the conception that the principle of kelal u-ferat u-kelal is a tool for deciphering meanings in speech, and not only in Torah. Someone who formulates himself in the pattern of generalization, specification, and generalization probably intends, consciously or unconsciously, an inclusion of things “similar to the specification.” If so, this is not merely a principle for expounding Scripture, but a logical structure embedded in the human being, in his language, and in his logic.

In the same way, one might say that gezerah shavah can also be applied, and that if a person uses the same word in two places, one may infer its meaning by comparing the two places. Even if he is not always conscious of his linguistic choices, identical words at the unconscious level mark identical meanings.¹³

Another example of such usage may be found in a responsum of Rashba, part 5, no. 260, where he applies the dispute between Rabbi Yoshiyah and Rabbi Yonatan regarding the conjunctive vav: whether it is expounded as joining the two connected terms or whether its purpose is to separate them. In the terminology of logical operators, this would be OR or AND. Let us note that other decisors disagree with him on this point, since in their opinion the dispute concerns only the language of the Torah and not ordinary language.

What emerges here is a far-reaching meaning of expounding ordinary language, according to which the hermeneutical principles reflect structures of thought that govern expressions in human language as well, and not only in Scripture.¹⁴

A Reservation Regarding Ordinary Language, and Also Regarding the Interpretation of Scripture

Let us note that obviously no one claims that human language must always be interpreted this way. The very fact that these cases are so rare clearly shows that this is not so. There is no doubt that, in order to employ such a derivation as a basis for analogy, one also needs a line of reasoning that supports the meaning yielded by the derivation. An additional indication is required, beyond the formal and universal aspect, in order to perform such derivations.

On the other hand, it is also clear that the derivation itself carries weight in the interpretive process. Let us recall that even in Scripture not every two words are used for a gezerah shavah, and we have already explained several times that reasoning plays a part in deciding which contexts we compare by gezerah shavah, just as it does in every other principle. If so, there is also a Platonic implication even for the textual principles.

Footnotes