The Essence of the Prohibition of Chametz 5777

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Today I want to talk about Passover, about the nature of the prohibition of leavened food, with, in the background somehow, after some kind of light bulb went on for me here, and I have a page here. And somehow I always felt uncomfortable with the connections people make between the prohibition of leavened food and the evil inclination. Searching for leavened food and destroying the evil inclination, and all kinds of homilies of that sort. I never understood where that comes from, why it’s connected, why don’t we need to destroy the evil inclination during the rest of the year too? Why only with leavened food, only on Passover? It sounds like some kind of homily. I once spoke, I think, about the difference between homily and pilpul, right? I think I mentioned it once, didn’t I? Pilpul is correct reasoning that leads to an incorrect conclusion, right? Meaning, you make an argument that looks good, but the conclusion is clearly not logical. I’ll give you an example: obligating a doorpost in ritual fringes. Do you know that a fortiori argument? The authors of methodological works often bring this a fortiori argument; I’ve seen it in several books. If a four-cornered garment, which is exempt from mezuzah, is obligated in ritual fringes, then a doorpost, which is obligated in mezuzah, should all the more so be obligated in ritual fringes. So apparently that’s a good a fortiori argument, no? I mean, it’s an a fortiori argument just like elsewhere. Yet the bottom line is clearly wrong. So here you have good reasoning, reasoning that seems correct, but the conclusion is absurd. And pilpul is basically a kind of riddle. It gives you a riddle: notice, there is a wrong conclusion, so something in the reasoning must be wrong. Now try to put your finger on what is wrong in the reasoning. That’s pilpul. A homily is wrong reasoning that leads to a correct conclusion. What do I mean? Take Passover, for example. Passover is about leavened food, so let’s search in all the holes and cracks for the evil inclination and all that. You’ll always deny it, but of course a person needs to work on the evil inclination and overcome it and search it out and destroy it and all that. But what does that have to do with Passover? The reasoning is completely absurd, even though the conclusion is an excellent one; certainly it’s correct, and not only that, it’s trivial. So that’s a major characteristic of homily, and that’s also why one does not refute a homily. Why don’t you refute pilpul? One does not refute a homily. Why? Because in a homily, it’s obvious that if you think about the reasoning, it isn’t correct, so who cares? The bottom line is correct: you should be righteous, humble, among the disciples of Abraham our forefather and not among the disciples of Balaam the wicked. Everyone agrees with that, so who cares how we got there. And that’s why one does not refute a homily. And many times when you hear homilies, pay attention, you’ll see that the argument doesn’t hold water, but the bottom line is excellent. So true, the preacher forced something into the midrash that the original expositor did not mean, and drew strange and bizarre conclusions, but the bottom line is a good one. And that’s why people don’t argue. So my feeling is that the connection between leavened food and the evil inclination is also a homily. Some kind of thing that—I don’t know, these things always annoy me, even though the conclusion is correct. Fine, a person needs to work on the evil inclination. But I expect that when we study Torah, the reasoning itself will also hold water, not only the bottom line. Okay, so after that motivation, what I’m going to try to do is suggest an explanation for the prohibition of leavened food that will not be connected to the evil inclination—I’m saying this in advance—and to try to anchor it in details of Jewish law or in halakhic sources. And this is another point that maybe I’ve also spoken about in the past: the Pnei Yehoshua writes in his introduction, he recounts that there was an earthquake in their city and his wife and daughter were killed

[Speaker B] and he—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham]—he himself was trapped under stones, under the rubble, and was waiting for them to rescue him. He already heard that they were coming to rescue him, but it took a long time more; apparently he was trapped inside. So there he vowed that he would engage in the true understanding of Torah; when the Holy One, blessed be He, would save him, he would engage in Torah in truth. I don’t remember his exact wording. And so he says that after he got out, he stopped dealing with aggadic material. Meaning, if you look at the book Pnei Yehoshua, what characterizes it is that he doesn’t let anything go. He examines every possible assumption, every conclusion, every Rashi, every Tosafot. He is really one of the most rigorous commentators there is, at every stage, accounting all the way through, without giving anything up. But whenever the Talmud reaches aggadic material, you won’t find Pnei Yehoshua. Nothing. Only on the halakhic parts of the Talmud. And the claim is that he says aggadic material does not aim at the line of truth. So therefore he took upon himself not to get involved with aggadic material. In other words, many times when we study aggadic passages—and this is a little connected to what I said before—the homily is usually based on aggadic material, and even when it isn’t, people study the halakhic parts of the Talmud the way they study aggadah. As though they’re just nice little vorts. And the feeling is that this is not binding study. Meaning, you say nice ideas; if they’re nice, they’re nice, but they’re not committed to truth. And therefore many times, even when dealing with conceptual matters, there is an advantage to testing them through a halakhic prism. Meaning, to examine what you’re saying through halakhic implications. Because through halakhic implications the thinking is more binding. In other words, you have to be more consistent. If there’s a difficulty, it collapses. It’s a much more demanding thing than studying aggadah. So here too, what I’m going to try to do is show a conclusion that doesn’t seem to me all that far-reaching overall, but to show it through halakhic sources. And that too is, in my opinion, an important methodological lesson. Meaning, how through halakhic sources one tries to understand conceptual issues as well. Okay, so let’s begin. The verses in the Torah that prohibit leavened food use the terms leavened food and starter interchangeably. That is, “No leavened food shall be seen with you, and no starter shall be seen with you in all your borders.” In other words, all the time the text speaks about leavened food and starter. Why use the two terms? First of all, what is starter? Starter is the thing with which dough is made to rise. It’s dough that has become sour in a far more drastic way than ordinary dough fermenting for bread or something like that. And after it becomes very sour, it can leaven other doughs. The Torah forbids the starter just like the leavened food. And the question is why. Look at your first source, in the Tosefta in Beitzah: “What is starter? That which leavens others. Leavened food is that which became leavened through another. From when is it called starter? From when it becomes unfit for a dog to eat.” Meaning, starter is something so extreme, dough that is so sour, that it is no longer fit for a dog to eat. It can still leaven other doughs, but it is not fit for a dog to eat. And then the question arises—and a number of later authorities ask this, Rabbi Akiva Eiger, the Minchat Chinukh, Avnei Nezer, and several others—so why indeed is starter forbidden like leavened food? In prohibitions of benefit, the rule is that we prohibit only things fit for eating. In fact, only what is fit for human consumption is prohibited. What is fit for a dog to eat but not for a person, the Sages prohibited; that is forbidden rabbinically. What is not fit for a dog to eat is not prohibited even rabbinically. Now starter is defined as dough that is not fit for a dog to eat. That is the definition according to the Tosefta. So how can such a thing be forbidden on Passover just like leavened food?

[Speaker B] That’s a bit of a strange question. You’re citing the Mishnah in order to challenge the Torah?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. What’s the problem? Okay. So maybe I’ll explain—maybe something here isn’t clear, so I’ll explain. When I ask, I’m not saying the Torah is wrong; I’m trying to understand what is written in the Torah. That’s the question.

[Speaker B] And the question is really on the Sages.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, why? The starter is not fit for eating—that’s a fact. It’s not a question on the Sages.

[Speaker B] They determined that the distinction is whether it is fit for eating or not.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s the case throughout the Torah. Throughout the Torah it’s like that. Fine, so a question on the Sages. So I’m asking about the Sages who established that something unfit—but this is ruled as Jewish law. And Maimonides rules as Jewish law both that and the law of starter. The Talmud too. It’s clear that this is a basic halakhic building block. Look, I brought Maimonides here, Laws of Forbidden Foods, chapter 14: “One is not liable for any forbidden foods unless he eats them in the normal manner of benefit, except for meat cooked with milk and produce of mixed vineyards, because in their case Scripture did not state eating, but expressed their prohibition in another language, in the language of cooking and in the language of sanctification, to forbid them even not in the normal manner of benefit.” Meaning, anything the Torah says is forbidden to eat is forbidden when the eating involves benefit, right? Something fit for eating. If it’s something not fit for eating, then there is no benefit in that eating, so there is no prohibition. Therefore Maimonides says: “How so? If one melted forbidden fat and swallowed it while hot until his throat was burned by it, or if he ate hot forbidden fat into which bitter things were mixed, such as gall or wormwood, or into wine of idolatrous libation or into a pot of carcass meat, and ate them while bitter, or if he ate forbidden food after it spoiled and became foul and ceased to be human food, he is exempt. But if he mixed a bitter thing into a pot of meat cooked with milk or into wine from mixed vineyards and ate it, he is liable.” All right? So in mixed vineyards and meat with milk there is a prohibition to eat even something that is not fit for eating. That’s what Maimonides said in the first law. So there it is an exception, but generally in the Torah’s eating prohibitions, if something is not fit for eating, there is no Torah prohibition. And if it’s not fit for a dog, then there isn’t even a rabbinic prohibition. Okay? Exempt but still forbidden? Rabbinically. If it’s not fit for a person. But if it’s not fit for a dog, then not even that—in other words, it is permitted.

[Speaker B] “Exempt” is usually on the Torah level. A rabbinic prohibition. A rabbinic prohibition because it’s fit for a dog. If it’s not fit for a dog, then not even that.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So now, the prohibition of leavened food is written in the language of eating.

[Speaker B] The prohibition—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] of leavened food, yes, resembles ordinary eating prohibitions, not mixed vineyards and not meat with milk. The Torah says, “No leavened food shall be eaten.” In the language of eating. If it’s in the language of eating, then it should follow that something not fit for eating should not be forbidden as leavened food. Just like all the other prohibitions, not like mixed vineyards and not meat with milk.

[Speaker B] There is also the command to eliminate it, no? What? There is also elimination with leavened food. So what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Elimination is a different passage. But first of all I’m talking about the original prohibition. It could be that in elimination too there’s a problem, if you understand that the purpose of elimination is to prevent the eating prohibition, a Torah-level safeguard. But in any event, regarding the prohibition of eating and deriving benefit, this is certainly problematic. You’ll tell me, fine, the Torah introduced a novelty, as you said before, so the Torah wrote it—what’s the issue? I say no, the Sages insist that even for leavened food this principle is true. Look at the Shulchan Arukh I brought here: “Leavened food that became moldy before the time of its prohibition and became unfit for a dog to eat, or that he burned in fire and it was charred until unfit for a dog, or that he designated for sitting on and coated with clay, may be kept on Passover.” So that’s not leavened food. If it’s not fit for eating, it’s not leavened food. So why is starter different? If something unfit for eating is not leavened food, then why is starter, which is unfit for a dog to eat, still leavened food? It causes the leavening of the leavened food. What? It causes other dough to rise. So maybe that’s a rabbinic prohibition, some kind of safeguard that if you leave it until the hour—but that’s rabbinic. Yet the Torah says starter and leavened food. So one could say maybe this is some kind of Torah safeguard. But in a moment we’ll see that this is probably not how the Sages and the medieval authorities understood it. Or at least some of the medieval authorities, Maimonides. So the basic question is why the Torah forbids starter in addition to leavened food, even though it is not fit for eating. And as I noted before, yes, in the verse itself it’s written. So it’s written in the verse, and true, that explains how we know that starter is also forbidden. But the question still arises: why does the Torah really forbid it? In other words, why in the case of leavened food does the Torah forbid starter as well? As we’ll see in a moment, not only that, but Beit Shammai—soon—Beit Shammai say that they would have learned that starter is forbidden even without it being written in the Torah. They say it’s obvious by reasoning. You don’t need the Torah to write that starter is forbidden. That sharpens the difficulty even more. But we’ll see that shortly. Now Maimonides in the Laws of Leavened Food and Matzah—I’m reading law 2 because that’s what concerns us: “Leavened food on Passover is forbidden for benefit, as it says, ‘No leavened food shall be eaten’—there shall be no permitted eating from it. And one who leaves leavened food in his domain on Passover, even though he did not eat it, transgresses two negative commandments, as it says, ‘No starter shall be seen with you in all your borders,’ and it says, ‘No starter shall be found in your houses.’ And the prohibition of leavened food and the prohibition of the starter with which one leavens are one and the same.” What is Maimonides saying? Starter and leavened food are the same prohibition. And he also explains what starter is: starter is the thing with which one leavens. It is certainly possible that this addition also comes to explain why starter is like leavened food. Starter is like leavened food because it is used to cause leavening. Okay? The Raavad indeed comments on him: “The prohibition of leavened food and the prohibition of the starter with which one leavens are one and the same.” Said Abraham: “Only as to their measures.”

[Speaker C] But regarding—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] destruction and regarding eating there is a difference between them. For leavened food, if it became unfit for a dog to eat, is not fit to require destruction; whereas starter, even though it became unfit, must still be destroyed, because it is fit to be ground up and used to leaven many doughs, unless he designated it for sitting, and so on.

[Speaker B] But here we’re talking about the prohibition of benefit. The prohibition of benefit isn’t specifically connected to eating. Doesn’t matter.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Every prohibition of benefit too—if it’s not fit for human consumption, then there is no prohibition of benefit either. If something is prohibited—we’ll see this later—something prohibited for eating, some of those prohibitions expand into prohibitions of benefit. But if they are not fit for eating, that also affects benefit.

[Speaker B] Is it like the issue of “it shall not be seen and it shall not be found”? Isn’t that unrelated? No, it is related.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Starter and leavened food are the same thing. There is also “it shall not be seen and it shall not be found,” which other prohibitions of benefit don’t have, fine. But still, starter and leavened food are the same thing. The examples people always bring are in contexts of, I don’t know, soaps for Passover or things like that. What difference does it make that it isn’t fit for eating? I benefit from it and it’s soap. No. If it’s not fit for eating, it’s not leavened food.

[Speaker B] Fine. And is there karet for starter?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Eating starter? I haven’t found it explicitly, but it seems from the later authorities that yes. In other words, they seem to have understood that leavened food and starter are the same thing, not only regarding “it shall not be seen and it shall not be found,” but also regarding eating, despite the fact that it isn’t fit. Maybe because—right. And he divides it into two laws, and only in the second does he say that the law of leavened food and the law of starter are the same. But that’s how it is understood. I’ll also show in the Talmud in Beitzah that this is what it implies. I haven’t found explicit discussions of someone who eats starter. Maybe it requires more searching; I didn’t search enough. But then it seems Maimonides is hinting at an explanation of this point—why indeed starter too is forbidden like leavened food even though it is not fit for eating. So he says: because doughs are leavened with it. Other doughs are leavened with it, and the Raavad already comments on him. So one might perhaps have said that this explanation of Maimonides—that starter is used to leaven other doughs—has a similar foundation to a move found in Maimonides in the laws of the Sabbath, and maybe elsewhere too. I’ll bring you one example. Maimonides writes in the laws of the Sabbath, I think chapter 8, he writes there: “One who makes the eye of the dye is liable.” On the Sabbath there is the prohibition of dyeing, one of the thirty-nine labors. If you dye, if you prepare dye, then you are liable under the category of dyeing. The Raavad comments there: what do you mean he is liable for dyeing? Dyeing means taking a garment and dyeing it with dye, but why should preparing the dye itself be called dyeing? True, in a sense you may be dyeing the water when you prepare the dye, because you cause the water to become colored, but coloring water is not the dyed object you are interested in, it’s not the completion of the labor, so why should such a thing be prohibited on the Torah level—why should one be liable for dyeing according to Maimonides? It appears from Maimonides here—and I said there are other places where you see this—that when something serves as an initial stage on the way to a labor or to a forbidden act, it itself also receives the prohibition, on the Torah level. On the Torah level, yes—he says there that one is liable. Meaning, making the dye itself is basically dyeing, not because he is dyeing the water, or not only because he is dyeing the water, but because this is the beginning of the act of dyeing. And because of that, it too is liable as dyeing. So maybe one could say that starter, since it is used to leaven other doughs, since it serves for the leavening of other doughs, is called leavened food. But that cannot be a complete explanation, because at most it can explain to me why starter is called leavened food. But even if it is called leavened food, it is leavened food that is not fit for eating; there is no enjoyment in eating it, so from the standpoint of the prohibition of eating and benefit, there should not have been any prohibition. So at most, this explanation can explain why starter is called leavened food, but why is it forbidden? That’s another question.

[Speaker B] There was also flour—why wasn’t flour forbidden? Huh?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Like—

[Speaker B] in dyeing—so would grinding flour also be forbidden?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, yes, and so therefore what has to happen—we’ll see in a moment—is that the thing still has to contain something of the final labor itself. Like in dyeing: say harvesting the dyes—that’s what they ask there about Maimonides; the Raavad asks this about Maimonides—or no, sorry, he asks it about cooking the dyes. He says, if cooking dyes, from which we learn cooking, then one should also be liable for dyeing, not only for cooking. But you can ask, as you just did, harvesting the dyes is also a stage on the way to producing the color, so clearly not. The action has to contain something akin to the final act, and also serve as preparation for the final act. So since here there is coloring of water, which by itself is not the labor of dyeing, but it is preparation of the dye toward dyeing, that counts as dyeing. Here too, starter serves to leaven other doughs, so it already contains something connected to leavened food, and it is the first stage on the way to leavening, and so one can call this thing leavened food.

[Speaker E] Wait, wait—starter is not yeast.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yeast is apparently a fungus. Right, and that’s why I’m saying: here we’re talking about dough that has become very strongly fermented.

[Speaker E] The question is whether, according to what you’re perhaps hinting at, that it’s not because starter itself is edible leavened food and so on, but because of its function—then maybe yeast too?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One could have said yeast too. In a moment—that’s exactly the point I’m about to get to. Look at the Achiezer, one of the later authorities; I brought one, there are several who discuss this question. “And I also have to discuss yeast, even though certainly whatever is fit to leaven other doughs is effective also in other prohibitions where Scripture did not explicitly reveal it, just as with the starter of leavened food. For starter of terumah and of untithed produce does not lose its prohibition from it even though it is unfit for a dog to eat, as is explained in the Tosefta in Beitzah regarding the starter of leavened food”—what we read above, that it is unfit for a dog to eat—“and one is forced to say that this is because it is fit to leaven dough with it.” All right? Fit to leaven dough with it—so because of that, the starter is considered leavened food. Not only is it considered leavened food regarding the prohibition of leavened food; it is considered dough also regarding terumah and untithed produce. What is he writing here? Yes, also terumah and untithed produce. This isn’t something unique specifically to the prohibition of leavened food; rather, starter carries the status-name of leavened food or of dough or something like that, despite the fact that it is unfit for a dog to eat, because it leavens other doughs. But—and this is exactly your point—the Achiezer says: “Nevertheless it appears that this is specifically with starter, because something that was food initially is not nullified by the fact that it became unfit, for it is fit to leaven dough with and would be eaten together with the dough. And that which is excluded from carcass because it is unfit for the stranger”—okay, that’s another story. What does he mean? He says that starter is different from yeast. Starter was dough, and I waited for it to ferment, and then it became unfit for a dog to eat. Its status-name did not depart from it; it is still called leavened food. But something that was never leavened food at all—even if it is fit to leaven other doughs—it is not called leavened food. In other words, according to the Achiezer two conditions are needed. One condition is that it was once leavened food, as Maimonides writes—something that was once leavened food and now deteriorated and is unfit for a dog to eat, but some residue remains of what it originally was. In other words, it still serves to leaven other doughs. The Achiezer adds more than that: not only does it serve to leaven other doughs, but when I put the starter into the dough, and the dough rises and I bake it, in the end I eat the dough together with the starter. So the starter itself has an aspect of food, and therefore its status still remains on it. By way of analogy, one could bring here the law of the remnants of ritual fringes. When a ritual fringe string tears, even though the remaining length is less than the required measure of ritual fringes, it is still valid ritual fringes—up to a certain point. Why? Because that string was once valid ritual fringes. Now I want to remove that status-name from it, and to remove that status-name requires something more drastic than what is needed to make it valid in the first place. So a short string cannot become valid ritual fringes, but if it was once valid ritual fringes, then it has to become very short in order to lose its name. So here too: if it was food, and not yeast but starter, if it was food, then in order to lose its status-name, it must not only be unfit for a dog, it must also no longer be fit to leaven—and then it is completely out of the picture. But if it was food and some connection still remains to what it had become, especially since here one actually eats it in practice, then it is really leavened food, and that is why it differs from yeast. Regarding yeast, the Achiezer claims—and this is a major practical implication—that according to this, yeast really is not leavened food. It is not fit for a dog to eat, and even though it is fit for leavening other doughs, it was never food once before, and therefore it is not leavened food.

[Speaker B] Is that how people rule? Is there a responsum?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know. According to the Achiezer it is not leavened food; that’s what comes out.

[Speaker B] So that means baking powder isn’t leavened food at all? What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know how they make baking powder. I know there is baking powder for Passover; I don’t know what there is in baking powder that isn’t for Passover.

[Speaker B] It’s entirely chemical, but it makes things rise; that’s its whole purpose.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, you mean because of its function. There is baking powder for Passover, yes, that’s clear, they sell baking powder for Passover, right? It could be that this is indeed the case. I haven’t checked the topic with all the halakhic decisors, but from the Achiezer it comes out that it would be permitted. But notice that the Achiezer says something else too. The Achiezer says this is a universal principle. It’s not specific to leavened food. In other words, his claim is that also in the prohibition of untithed produce and terumah it’s the same thing. His claim is that starter in Jewish law is like the dough, if these two conditions are met: that it was once food, and that it hasn’t completely gone out of the picture. All right? By contrast, I think we’ll also see later, more clearly, that this connection between starter and leavened food is true only with leavened food. It is specific to leavened food. I’ll show you that later. All right, so to understand this matter, let’s look at the Mishnah in Beitzah. The Mishnah at the beginning of tractate Beitzah brings a dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel; there are several such disputes there. Beit Shammai say: starter in an olive’s bulk, and leavened food in a date’s bulk. A date’s bulk is something larger than an olive. And Beit Hillel say: both this and that are in an olive’s bulk. So there is a dispute about the measure regarding starter and regarding leavened food. The measure for starter, according to all opinions, is an olive’s bulk, and the measure for leavened food is disputed. Beit Shammai say a date’s bulk, and Beit Hillel say an olive’s bulk. Who is stricter? Beit Hillel. Right? In a prohibition, giving a smaller measure is more stringent. In a commandment, a smaller measure is more lenient; in a prohibition, a smaller measure is stricter. There are several disputes in which Beit Hillel are actually the stricter side, to teach us that it is not automatic that Beit Hillel are always the lenient ones. In any case, the Mishnah says there is a dispute regarding the measure of starter. Where does that dispute come from? So the Talmud on page 7 says as follows—Beit Shammai say, and we’ll read only part of it: “Beit Shammai say: starter in an olive’s bulk. What is Beit Shammai’s reason? If so, let the Merciful One write only leavened food, and there would be no need for starter, and I would say: if leavened food, whose leavening is not intense, is in an olive’s bulk, then starter, whose leavening is intense, all the more so. So why did the Merciful One write starter? To tell you that the measure of this is not like the measure of that.” So Beit Shammai say: how do I know there is a difference in measures? Because the very fact that the Torah wrote “starter” is superfluous. Even if the Torah had not written starter, I would know that starter is forbidden. Right? That’s what Beit Shammai say. What was the Torah writing starter for? It’s not clear—I would have known on my own. If leavened food, whose leavening is less intense, is forbidden, then starter, whose leavening is more intense, all the more so. So why did the Torah write starter? And here is the proof that starter is said also regarding eating. Right? Because this is an a fortiori argument.

[Speaker B] What? And also what food—so what? That’s where they derive the question from.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We’ll see in a moment. So Beit Shammai say that, essentially, the fact that sourdough starter is forbidden on Passover doesn’t need the verse at all. I would have known it even without the verse. If the Torah said leavened food, I would have inferred by an a fortiori argument that sourdough starter is included too. And if it isn’t fit for eating? So what is Beit Shammai bothered by at all? Now notice, this is much stronger than what we saw earlier. Because here Beit Shammai derive it from reasoning. Meaning, they say you don’t need the verse at all to forbid sourdough starter. I would have known it on my own. Fine—after the Torah explicitly said sourdough starter, you could still tell me: the Torah said it, who are you to argue with the Torah? What are you arguing about? I’m only trying to understand. But according to Beit Shammai, even if the Torah had not written sourdough starter, they would say it would still be forbidden. So why did the Torah write it? It’s unnecessary. So since it’s unnecessary, Beit Shammai say it must have been written in order to teach a difference in the quantities. Why is the quantity for leavened food the larger one and for sourdough starter the smaller one, and not the other way around? Right, because sourdough starter… Notice, there’s another point here too. If you had to decide which prohibition is more severe, then I would think leavened food, right? Because sourdough starter isn’t fit for eating. No—Beit Shammai continue consistently with their view. Sourdough starter is the more severe prohibition, and therefore they are stricter about it, so that there even with an olive-bulk you are in violation, because in their view sourdough starter is much more severe than leavened food. So what if it isn’t fit for eating? Beit Shammai are not troubled by that issue. Moving on—did you want to comment?

[Speaker D] Please. Maybe because its leavening power is really intense, that’s what… makes it very severe.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Very severe. And Beit Hillel say: both are needed. For if the Merciful One had written sourdough starter, I would have said it is because its leavening power is intense. But leavened food, whose leavening power is not intense, I would say no; therefore it is needed. And the other way around, what? And if the Merciful One had written leavened food, it is because it is fit for eating. But sourdough starter, which is not fit for eating, I would say no; therefore it is needed. That’s enough for me for now. What is he saying? What do Beit Hillel say? They say there is mutual necessity. Both sourdough starter and leavened food are needed. If only sourdough starter had been written, I would not have known leavened food. Why not? Because maybe only sourdough starter is forbidden because its leavening power is intense. Notice, it’s the same reasoning as Beit Shammai, just in the opposite direction. Here the Torah does explicitly write sourdough starter. It’s just that if it had written only sourdough starter, I would have thought it meant only sourdough starter and not leavened food. But in terms of the reasoning, it’s the same reasoning as Beit Shammai. Except that Beit Hillel say that’s not the only line of reasoning. There’s also the opposite direction: if only leavened food had been written, I would not have known sourdough starter, because sourdough starter is not fit for eating. And because of that, the Torah had to write both leavened food and sourdough starter, and therefore you cannot infer that there is a difference in the quantities, because neither of them is superfluous. Okay? That is the dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel.

[Speaker B] Which is more severe? Right, there’s a stricter side and a more lenient side.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So now it comes out like this: according to Beit Shammai, if the Torah had written only leavened bread, I would have known on my own that sourdough starter is prohibited. The Torah wrote sourdough starter at all only to teach that even though it isn’t fit for eating, it is prohibited. According to Beit Shammai, that wouldn’t need to be written, because it’s obvious. It wrote it only to say that there’s a difference in the measures—that this one is an olive-bulk and that one is a date-bulk. But the prohibition itself is not from the Torah at all. Which sharpens even more what I asked earlier: after all, it isn’t fit for eating, so by simple reasoning I would have learned it myself even without the Torah writing it. How can that be?

Now we have to understand that Beit Hillel also don’t really disagree, or don’t disagree in the bottom line. Beit Hillel say: after the Torah wrote both sourdough starter and leavened bread, now it’s clear that both are prohibited. What Beit Hillel don’t accept is that I would have known this on my own. Why? Because according to their view there’s also an opposite stringency. But they still accept Beit Shammai’s stringency too; they just claim there’s also an opposite stringency, and therefore maybe I wouldn’t have known it. But once the Torah wrote both sourdough starter and leavened bread, now we’re back to Beit Shammai’s position. In the end there’s no dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel. The only question is whether you needed a verse for this, or whether I would have known it even without a verse. That’s all.

But once there’s already a verse about sourdough starter and about leavened bread, Beit Hillel too say that sourdough starter is prohibited just like leavened bread, and again the question comes up: why? After all, it isn’t fit for eating. Especially since Beit Hillel also agree that even without the verse I had some basis for saying this, I just also had another basis, so it wasn’t certain I would reach Beit Shammai’s final conclusion. But there was still such a basis. And why? Without a verse, if sourdough starter isn’t fit for eating, then what is there even to discuss? Are there other examples of things that are not fit for eating but can still be useful for producing other things? It’s like that material on a brush that got burned, things like that, where it’s simply completely disqualified, it has no further use. I don’t know, because most things prohibited for eating are natural things, not things produced by human preparation. Maybe meat cooked in milk is the only example where the mixture is the result of human action. Kilayim. But again, I don’t see what the representative case would be, aside from the two components of kilayim or the meat and the milk. I don’t know, at the moment I can’t think of such a thing.

Is there a verse that says sourdough starter may not be eaten? No. But there is a verse that links eating to it, meaning the assumption is probably that eating too… Right, eating is what defines it. That’s what I said earlier—even in Maimonides he brings this only regarding “it shall not be seen” and “it shall not be found,” and the linkage of sourdough starter to leavened bread, but both the later authorities (Acharonim) and from… and the Talmudic text here too, the Talmudic text here is talking about eating. So maybe at least to understand why Beit Shammai say that it… Yes, but the Talmudic text is talking about eating. In the simple sense, the Talmudic text here in Beitzah is talking about eating. And about that it says this regarding sourdough starter. Now who says it’s talking about eating at all? Afterwards the Talmudic text brings the possibility that maybe it’s not about eating and it’s… So that’s really the question: something that isn’t fit for eating—according to Beit Shammai, even by pure reasoning I would understand that it is prohibited; according to Beit Hillel, only after the Torah says so—but even after the Torah says so, this thing is still prohibited, and the question is why.

It seems to me that the answer to this can be understood if we look at the Talmudic text in Pesachim, the next source you have there. A dispute among Amoraim is brought there. Hezekiah said: From where do we know that leavened bread on Passover is prohibited not only for eating but also for benefit? As it says, “Leavened bread shall not be eaten”—there shall be no permission for eating from it. Meaning, Hezekiah argues: how do we know that leavened bread is prohibited not only for eating but also for benefit? From the fact that it is written in passive language, “shall not be eaten.” “Shall not be eaten” means that one may not derive benefit from it either. Never mind—Rashi there explains exactly how that gets you to benefit, but practically speaking Hezekiah learns from there that there is also a prohibition of benefit, not only a prohibition of eating.

The reason, the Talmudic text now comments on Hezekiah—the reason is that the Merciful One wrote, “Leavened bread shall not be eaten”; had it not written “shall not be eaten,” I would have said it implies a prohibition of eating, but it would not imply a prohibition of benefit. Meaning, if it had not been written in passive language, “shall not be eaten,” but rather “you shall not eat leavened bread,” then I would not have known a prohibition of benefit; I would have understood it as only a prohibition of eating. That’s how it seems, because you need the passive wording for this.

And this disagrees with Rabbi Abbahu, for Rabbi Abbahu said: Everywhere it says “shall not be eaten,” “you shall not eat,” or “you shall not eat,” both a prohibition of eating and a prohibition of benefit are implied, unless Scripture specifies otherwise for you, as it specified for you in the case of a carcass, as it was taught: “You shall not eat any carcass; to the stranger in your gates you may give it and he may eat it, or sell it to a foreigner,” and so on. There is more continuation there in the Talmudic text, but I’ll stop here.

Meaning, the Talmudic text says—the Torah says, sorry—yes: “You shall not eat any carcass; to the dog…,” no, sorry, “to the stranger in your gates you may give it and he may eat it, or sell it to a foreigner.” Meaning, the Torah itself permits deriving benefit from a carcass: you can sell it to a foreigner or give it to a dog to eat. You are forbidden to eat it, but that is only a prohibition of eating, not a prohibition of benefit. If the Torah wanted to say that benefit is permitted, it could simply have forbidden eating and stayed silent. Why does it need to write verses permitting benefit from it—“or sell it to a foreigner”? Why is it telling me what to do with it? Tell me it’s forbidden to eat, and I’ll find something to do with it myself. The Torah doesn’t need to give me instructions what to do. From here apparently they understand that the Torah assumes that anything written with a prohibition of eating is also prohibited for benefit, unless the Torah itself writes that here there is no prohibition of benefit, as with a carcass. And therefore the Torah had to add permission of benefit for a carcass, because otherwise the eating prohibition regarding carcass would have taught us that there is also a prohibition of benefit.

So from here they derive a general principle according to Rabbi Abbahu: everywhere the Torah says “you shall not eat,” in any formulation of eating, that includes within it a prohibition of benefit, not only a prohibition of eating—unless there is an explicit derivation saying that here the thing is permitted for benefit.

And there is a dispute between Tosafot and Maimonides on the question whether the carcass really is the source for Rabbi Abbahu’s principle. The way I presented it now is like Tosafot: the verse about carcass is the source of Rabbi Abbahu’s principle, because from the fact that the Torah had to make a special permission for benefit, from there we learn that without that permission every prohibition of eating would have included a prohibition of benefit. According to Maimonides that probably isn’t true—we’ll see that in a moment. It’s not the source, it’s only… that’s regarding the multiplicity of formulations. What do I mean? As though when it says equally “you shall not eat,” “you shall not eat,” but from there I don’t learn “shall not be eaten.” No. I mean that anything connected to eating is probably also prohibited for benefit, so I don’t care whether it’s passive or active or whatever. Every time the Torah prohibits by eating, in whatever formulation it may be, that probably also includes a prohibition of benefit unless it itself permitted it. Okay? I don’t care whether it says “you shall not eat,” “you shall not eat,” or “shall not be eaten,” it doesn’t matter. As though the point is that this doesn’t contradict Hezekiah. Why? Because Hezekiah latched onto a specific wording. But here the wording does appear in… yes it appears, yes it appears. Any formulation of eating includes “shall not be eaten,” “you shall not eat,” everything—any such language, just as it prohibits eating it also prohibits benefit from it.

So what do you need the fact that it’s written in the passive form “shall not be eaten” for? Every prohibition of eating includes within it a prohibition of benefit. You’re saying that in fact the word eating means “do not consume”? As if eating is just a particular case. In a moment we’ll see—Maimonides says something like that, Maimonides says something similar, we’ll see in a moment. Apparently… That’s also how Maimonides rules like Rabbi Abbahu, right? This is Maimonides, Laws of Forbidden Foods: Everywhere it is said in the Torah, “you shall not eat,” “you shall not eat,” “they shall not eat,” “it shall not be eaten,” both a prohibition of eating and a prohibition of benefit are implied, until Scripture specifies otherwise for you as it specified for you regarding a carcass, and so on. Or until it is explained in the Oral Torah that it is permitted for benefit, such as creeping things, swarming things, blood, a limb from a living animal, and the sciatic nerve, all of which are permitted for benefit by tradition, even though they are prohibited for eating.

So Maimonides says: either the Torah permits it, or there is some derivation or something of that kind that permits it, but without that, anything prohibited for eating is also prohibited for benefit. So he rules like Rabbi Abbahu, correct? According to this, you don’t really need a special source for the prohibition of benefit, because if leavened bread is prohibited for eating, then of course it is also prohibited for benefit. Hezekiah, who doesn’t accept this, needs a separate source to prohibit benefit from leavened bread.

But doesn’t there first have to be a prohibition on eating it? What do you mean? Regarding sourdough starter… wait, wait, I haven’t gotten to sourdough starter yet. At the moment I’m only talking about the prohibition of leavened bread in general.

Now in Maimonides it says—let’s go back to Maimonides in the Laws of Leavened Bread and Matzah, law 2, source four on the first page. We already read it; I’ll read it again. Leavened bread on Passover is prohibited for benefit, as it says, “Leavened bread shall not be eaten”—there shall be no permission of eating from it. He brings Hezekiah’s derivation, right? But he rules like Rabbi Abbahu. The Kesef Mishneh—I’m not going to read it now, it’s the first source on page two—the Kesef Mishneh asks this against Maimonides. How can that be? You rule like Rabbi Abbahu, so why are you bringing me Hezekiah’s source? The conclusion of the Kesef Mishneh, and this is the accepted view among commentators on Maimonides, is that when Maimonides brings a derivation from a verse, that is not necessarily really a source in the full sense. Sometimes Maimonides brings a verse only because it fits nicely for rhetorical elegance, but you can’t really infer from it what his halakhic position is or where he learned it from. You see this in various places, and it is an accepted rule in understanding Maimonides’s words.

I think that here specifically that is not reasonable, and as I’ll show later, it’s probably unnecessary too. But that is the conclusion of many commentators on Maimonides. Source four says it is forbidden to eat and to derive benefit, but then he learns “shall not be eaten” like Hezekiah. You don’t need to say that. Not because of “shall not be eaten,” but because every prohibition of eating is also a prohibition of benefit.

Look, in negative commandment 187, which discusses meat cooked in milk—that’s source two on page two—there are some very interesting things that Maimonides writes there regarding meat cooked in milk. It is copied in Sefer HaChinukh even more fully. But before that I want to introduce another point.

When Maimonides talks about the prohibition of eating and the prohibition of benefit, there are several sources where he makes a very interesting conceptual move, and he’s clearly very excited about it too. In his Commentary on the Mishnah in Keritot there is what’s called a “wonderful point.” That’s what they call it in the yeshivot. Maimonides in the Commentary on the Mishnah in Keritot says—I didn’t bring it here—he says: there is a wonderful point. What is the wonderful point? Suppose you take forbidden fat, a piece of animal fat that is forbidden for eating, and you cook it in milk. Essentially that is meat cooked in milk, right? You cook the fat in milk. The question is whether the prohibition of meat cooked in milk takes effect on the prohibition of forbidden fat, under the rule that one prohibition does not take effect on top of another prohibition. Right? A second prohibition doesn’t take effect on the first if the first already exists. The question is whether it does take effect.

Maimonides says: it does not take effect. Maimonides asks: I have in this, says Maimonides, a wonderful point that no one ever preceded me with. That’s what he writes there. What is it? After all, the prohibition of meat cooked in milk is broader than the prohibition of forbidden fat. The prohibition of forbidden fat is only a prohibition of eating; it is not a prohibition of benefit. But meat cooked in milk is prohibited also for benefit—three times “You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk”: prohibition of eating, prohibition of benefit, and prohibition of cooking, right?

Now a broader prohibition can indeed take effect on a narrower prohibition under the rule of “adds.” Meaning, if the second prohibition is broader than the first one, then the second prohibition takes effect on the first. So Maimonides says: then why, when one cooks forbidden fat in milk, does the prohibition of meat cooked in milk not take effect upon the prohibition of forbidden fat?

Maimonides says: because basically, at root, the prohibition of meat cooked in milk is a prohibition of eating. It’s true that anything prohibited for eating is also prohibited for benefit. Since that is so, when I look at meat cooked in milk, from my standpoint it is basically prohibited for eating. That does not take effect on the prohibition of forbidden fat, because both are only prohibitions of eating. Once the eating prohibition of meat cooked in milk does not take effect, it also does not spread into becoming a prohibition of benefit. Meaning, his conception is that the prohibition of benefit is an extension of the prohibition of eating, but basically at the source it is only a prohibition of eating. So if there is a prohibition of eating, it will also become prohibited for benefit. Since that’s so, if it is only a prohibition of eating, then one prohibition does not take effect on another; it doesn’t take effect on the prohibition of forbidden fat. And in any case there will also be no prohibition of benefit.

What do we see here? That Maimonides understands—and Tosafot understands this in various places too—that the prohibition of benefit really is some sort of extension of the prohibition of eating. In other words, basically it is a prohibition of eating. As a result of that—yes, it’s an expansion or result of the prohibition of eating, maybe a derivational result. Even in meat cooked in milk? Even in meat cooked in milk, despite the three verses. So cooking is the expansion in every other place? No, he explains that here, he explains it here in commandment 187, I’m not going to go through all of it.

Why are you moving on to the prohibition of meat cooked in milk? It’s written three times—one for cooking and one for eating. Exactly—for that his discussion in 187 here is devoted, and in Sefer HaChinukh you can look there as well. I’m not going to go through it all because there isn’t time, but that is exactly what he deals with. Those are the questions he handles there. And it’s interesting how excited Maimonides is by this, because it’s the kind of conceptual move that today every yeshiva student makes. It’s a matter of period. After Rabbi Chaim, moves like this are no big deal for us. But Maimonides was very excited—meaning, it seemed to him a very impressive, very convincing analytical distinction.

Okay. In any case, that’s one direction. On the other hand, here in negative commandment 187—I won’t read it all—you can see the opposite move in Maimonides himself. And that’s a bit of a contradiction. Between the Commentary on the Mishnah and the Mishneh Torah or the Book of Commandments there are contradictions. There are others too, but this is one of them. Because here in negative commandment 187 Maimonides writes, look at the third line: he is speaking about the three prohibitions in meat cooked in milk—cooking, benefit, and eating. “And to the questioner who will ask and say: For what reason did you count its prohibition of eating and its prohibition of cooking as two commandments, but you did not count its prohibition of benefit as a third commandment?” Maimonides counts in his enumeration of the commandments the prohibition of eating and the prohibition of cooking, but he does not count the prohibition of benefit. So Maimonides says: why? He asks himself, why not? So he says: let the questioner know that the prohibition of benefit is not fit to be counted as an independent commandment, because it and the prohibition of eating are one matter, for eating is one of the forms of benefit. And the Exalted One’s statement regarding something that “it shall not be eaten” is only one example among examples of benefit. And the intent is that one shall not derive benefit from it, neither by eating nor in any other way. And this is what the Sages, peace be upon them, said: everywhere it says “you shall not eat,” “you shall not eat,” “it shall not be eaten,” both a prohibition of eating and a prohibition of benefit are implied, unless Scripture specifies otherwise, as it specified regarding a carcass, where it explained permission of benefit by saying “or sell it to a foreigner, or to the stranger in your gates you may give it and he may eat it.”

What is he saying? He’s saying: yes, the Torah says, “If one man’s ox gores another man’s ox.” So if my ox gores somebody else’s ox, I have to pay. What happens if my dog bit somebody else’s ox? You have to pay for that too. Why? The Torah wrote, “If an ox gores”; it doesn’t say anything about a dog. The assumption is that the ox is an example, right? The Torah often gives an example when it really means to express a general principle—that if my property damages somebody else’s property, I have to pay. It says “ox” because it’s common for an ox to gore, but basically it means that as an example.

Maimonides says: the prohibition of eating is an example of prohibitions of benefit—what you were really trying to say earlier. Maimonides says that when the Torah says “you shall not eat” or “it shall not be eaten,” a prohibition of eating, it does not mean to prohibit eating; it means to prohibit benefit. Eating is just a common, widespread form of benefit, so the Torah takes it as an example. “One example among examples of benefit,” as Maimonides calls it.

But then maybe it could have given an example of benefit and we would understand eating? Here it’s the reverse. Maimonides doesn’t see a kal va-chomer here. Eating and benefit are not… it’s the same thing. It is forbidden to derive benefit in any form whatsoever. Just as you could say your giraffe bit someone and then say kal va-chomer. It’s not a kal va-chomer. He doesn’t see eating as more severe than benefit, so you don’t need to mention benefit and then learn eating by kal va-chomer. It’s the same thing; it’s just an example. You take a common example of benefit and mention it. What? For him, that’s the novelty, that’s the principle. Okay, and that’s what he claims.

So what is written here, notice, is the opposite of what is written in the “wonderful point.” Because in the “wonderful point” he understands that the prohibition of eating is the basic one and it branches out into a prohibition of benefit. Here it’s the opposite. Basically the prohibition—there is only one prohibition, a prohibition of benefit. The prohibition of eating is an example. Meaning, an example of deriving benefit is to eat the thing. But basically what is prohibited is benefit. If anything, for example regarding meat cooked in milk too, he should have counted only the prohibition of benefit, not the prohibition of eating, because prohibition of eating is only a particular case of prohibition of benefit.

Fine, that’s a story unto itself. Regarding meat cooked in milk the move is much more complex; I won’t get into it here. It’s a beautiful move of Maimonides and it requires a lot of discussion because there are many nuances there. But for our purposes, what matters is the principle he establishes here. And the principle basically says that Rabbi Abbahu’s view—that every prohibition of eating includes a prohibition of benefit—is simply because eating is an example of benefit. The Torah really prohibited benefits. That’s what it prohibited. Even when it prohibits eating, what it really prohibited is deriving benefit.

From here it is also very clear why, when something is not fit for eating, there is no prohibition on it. Because when you eat it, you are not benefiting, and all the Torah prohibited was deriving benefit through eating. So if you do not benefit, then there is no prohibition. Okay?

But if you go back to the “wonderful point,” where it starts first of all with eating and then expands? Why? Because if you don’t eat, you don’t benefit. The benefit of eating, not other benefits. Yes, but if you benefit in some other way, then according to this it should be permitted. Right, and in the Commentary on the Mishnah it’s the opposite.

In any case, according to Maimonides here in negative commandment 187, basically what exists in prohibitions of eating is only a prohibition of benefit. Eating is an example of a mode of benefit that has been prohibited. That’s all; there’s nothing special about it. And from here it is also clear that something not fit for eating, where there is no benefit in eating it, is not prohibited. No, no—if that’s so, if it’s just an example, it doesn’t follow that way. Only if it’s the source does it follow that way. What do you mean? If it’s not fit for eating and I ate it, then what happened? No, but if it’s not fit for eating and I used it… No, I mean something I ate. It’s not fit for eating and I ate it. After that, that’s a separate story.

What we really see here is that a prohibition of eating is nothing but a prohibition of benefit. When the Torah tells me not to eat something, it means to say that the thing is defective, repulsive, or harmful to the soul—I don’t know exactly what—therefore stay away from it, do not derive benefit from it in any way: not eat it, not benefit from it, nothing. The starting point is the object itself; the object is itself repulsive, one should keep away from it.

With the prohibition of leavened bread, now I’m going back to the beginning and trying to explain everything we’ve seen up till now, that is not the case. Leavened bread is permitted all year except on Passover; there is nothing defective in it in itself. So what is it? Why really is there a prohibition of leavened bread? It’s almost explicit in the Torah: our forefathers’ dough did not have time to rise. Our forefathers left Egypt and ate matzah and not leavened bread because their dough did not have time to rise. And therefore we too are supposed to do the same thing: eat matzah and not eat leavened bread as a memorial to the Exodus from Egypt.

What does that mean? It basically means that the prohibition of leavened bread is not a prohibition on the object at all. There is nothing defective in leavened bread itself, contrary to all those sermons I brought at the beginning about the evil inclination and needing to eradicate the leaven from within us—absolutely not. There is nothing defective in leavened bread. Rather, on the fourteenth, fifteenth, and the rest of Passover, as part of remembering the Exodus from Egypt, we also have to eat matzah and not eat leavened bread. It joins the Exodus story; it joins the obligations to remember and relive what happened in the Exodus. Accordingly, we also have to eat matzah and not eat leavened bread, and so on and so forth.

If that is really so, then see now how the whole thing develops. It comes out that with regard to leavened bread, the prohibition is a historical prohibition. Because historically the Sages didn’t eat… the Sages—Jews didn’t eat leavened bread at the Exodus from Egypt, so we also don’t eat leavened bread. It’s just a historical matter. Therefore leavened bread itself is not repulsive. If it is not repulsive, then when the Torah says not to eat leavened bread, it does not mean that it is forbidden to derive benefit from the leavened bread, that one should stay away from leavened bread. The Torah says: do not eat leavened bread, just as your forefathers did not eat leavened bread. Fine. If that’s so, who says that this also includes a prohibition of benefit? In a place where the Torah says the thing is defective, stay away from it, then stay away—don’t do anything, don’t eat it, don’t benefit from it, nothing, because all that is really a prohibition of benefit. But in leavened bread there is no issue of a prohibition of benefit at all; it is not itself a repulsive thing. What is prohibited is performing the act of eating on leavened bread. Therefore it could be that a prohibition of benefit would actually be permitted.

So Maimonides says: yes, but there is an additional source, “shall not be eaten.” And from that passive wording we learn that beyond the prohibition of eating there is also a prohibition of benefit. And without an additional source, from Rabbi Abbahu’s principle itself—that every prohibition of eating is also a prohibition of benefit—that would not be true. Regarding leavened bread, there is a prohibition of eating, but I would not learn from that a prohibition of benefit without the additional source.

That is why Maimonides also splits this law into two separate laws, which strengthens this even more, because in most places where Maimonides says that something is prohibited for eating and prohibited for benefit, he says it in the same law. In the same law… prohibition of eating and prohibition of benefit are one prohibition, as we saw. Here, no. “Anyone who eats an olive-bulk of leavened bread on Passover, from the beginning of the night of the fifteenth”—let’s read source four on the first page—“until the end of the twenty-first day of Nisan, intentionally, is liable to karet, as it says: ‘For anyone who eats leavened bread shall be cut off,’ and unintentionally he is liable to bring a fixed sin-offering, whether the one who eats or one who causes another to eat or one who drinks.” That is the prohibition of eating.

Law 2: “Leavened bread on Passover is prohibited for benefit, as it says, ‘shall not be eaten’—there shall be no permission of benefit from it.” A completely different prohibition, learned from a completely different source. And then it is a little hard to accept what the Kesef Mishneh says, that this is just a source for rhetorical flourish. Maimonides divides it into two laws, and for each one he brings a different source. So it doesn’t sound to me like something that is just ornamental. He should have written: it is forbidden to derive benefit from and to eat leavened bread, as it says, “shall not be eaten.” If he had said that, fine. But he doesn’t say that. He divides it into two laws.

So where did he really learn it from—from two different prohibitions? Yes. If someone eats and in the course of that also benefits, does he violate two prohibitions? According to this, yes. He violates two prohibitions. Not two separately enumerated negative commandments, because the benefit prohibition is apparently the result of a derivation. Maimonides in the second root says that something learned by derivation is not counted in the enumeration. If the benefit comes from a derivation, then all the more so. So you violate two prohibitions, but not two separately enumerated negative commandments. Meaning, a prohibition and another prohibition that comes from derivation from a negative commandment. But they are two different things in leavened bread: benefit and eating. Therefore if you ate, you really violate both. You violate eating and you violate benefit. Correct. And this is like kilayim of the vineyard and meat cooked in milk. I remind you that regarding kilayim of the vineyard and meat cooked in milk, Maimonides says the same thing, but there he explains it because it is not written in the Torah in language of eating. Regarding meat cooked in milk it says, “You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk,” and regarding kilayim of the vineyard, “lest the fullness be sanctified,” in the language of consecration. So there too, really, prohibition of eating is not implied from prohibition of benefit, but it is also prohibited for benefit from a different source. I claim that the same is true on Passover: complete Passover law, leavened bread is exactly like kilayim of the vineyard and meat cooked in milk.

Now let’s continue. If so, then the Talmudic text in Beitzah now settles very simply. We asked: how can it be that sourdough starter, which is not fit for eating, is still prohibited even for eating? Why? Because something not fit for eating is not prohibited under prohibitions of eating and benefit. The answer: of course—under ordinary prohibitions of eating, where the prohibition is to derive benefit by eating, if the thing isn’t fit for eating then you did not derive benefit by eating. But regarding leavened bread, the prohibition is to perform the act of eating on leavened bread; it is not a prohibition of benefit, there is nothing defective in leavened bread, we are not being distanced from leavened bread. So if that’s the case, then even something not fit for eating should be prohibited. Because just as our forefathers did not eat leavened bread, they did not eat anything that was leavened, so we too are not supposed to eat anything that is leavened. What counts as leavened? Either leavened bread or sourdough starter. Sourdough starter too is leavened, because it is fit to leaven other doughs, and everything we said earlier.

So what does that mean? It means it is enough for me to show that sourdough starter bears the name leavened bread, that it is called leavened, in order to prohibit it. Earlier I asked: that’s not enough. Fine, I’m convinced, it has the name leavened, but it isn’t fit for eating. So what difference does it make that it has the name leavened? The answer: not true. The prohibition is a prohibition on performing the act of eating on something that is leavened. That is the prohibition. Why not leavened bread that is not fit for eating? Leavened bread not fit for eating is not leavened bread at all, because the second condition is not fulfilled—that it still remains capable of leavening other doughs. After all, two conditions are needed for something to be called leavened: that it was leavened food, and that it can leaven other things. Leavened bread that is not fit for eating is not called leavened, while sourdough starter is called leavened. It’s called leavened, just not fit for eating—exactly. Now once something is called leavened, I don’t care that it isn’t fit for eating, because the prohibition regarding leavened bread is to perform the act of eating, not to derive benefit by eating. Therefore Maimonides says that since it is fit to leaven other doughs, it is forbidden to eat, and he doesn’t bother to explain “so what?” But it still isn’t fit for eating.

Now the Talmudic text in Beitzah is also understandable. Why? Because in the Talmudic text in Beitzah, Beit Shammai say: “If it had written leavened bread, I would have learned by kal va-chomer that full sourdough starter is prohibited, because that one ferments mildly and this one ferments strongly.” Well then, is stronger fermentation a reason to be lenient? Beit Hillel argue against them: “If it ferments strongly, then it isn’t fit for eating. And if it isn’t fit for eating, how would you learn it by kal va-chomer from leavened bread?” The answer: what difference does it make to me that it isn’t fit for eating?

Notice, according to Beit Shammai this follows by reasoning. Why does the Torah write sourdough starter? It follows by reasoning. How does it follow by reasoning? Because I know that the prohibition of leavened bread is a memorial to what happened at the Exodus from Egypt. If so, Beit Shammai say, then obviously there is nothing defective in leavened bread in itself. It isn’t flawed; rather, it is a historical prohibition. Since it is a historical prohibition, Beit Shammai say, then all that matters is whether it is called leavened. I don’t care whether you benefit or don’t benefit. So if something that ferments mildly is called leavened, then something that ferments strongly—sourdough starter—certainly is called leavened. So I would have learned it even without the verse.

Beit Hillel say: without the verse maybe I would not have known that, but after the verse we agree that it is so. So what about the rule of “not fit for eating”? What? But then there is the opposite alternative: not fit for eating. If it isn’t fit for eating, then exempt it from the law of leavened bread. But if sourdough starter ferments strongly, you won’t learn it from leavened bread. So Beit Hillel too agree… we would understand that only… no, not even; we would understand only… only, not even. We would understand only, not even. We would understand only, not even. That only things whose fermentation is strong. That’s what Beit Hillel say in the Talmudic text. If it had written sourdough starter, we would understand only sourdough starter, which has strong fermentation—who says that leavened bread too? Therefore the Talmudic text in Beitzah is also understandable.

Now look at another source. Wait, I want to—within a few minutes I have to finish, so just let me complete this move. In law 7 Maimonides brings a source for the prohibition of less than the minimum measure: “Whoever eats from the leavened bread itself on Passover any amount whatsoever, this is prohibited by the Torah, as it says, ‘Leavened bread shall not be eaten’; nevertheless he is not liable to karet or a sacrifice until he eats the measure of an olive-bulk.” The prohibition of less than the minimum measure is the dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish in Yoma. And in practice the law follows Rabbi Yohanan, that less than the minimum measure is prohibited by Torah law. Meaning, if one eats less than an olive-bulk, it is prohibited by Torah law. There are no lashes, as with all prohibitions of eating and benefit, but less than an olive-bulk is still prohibited by Torah law.

So everyone asks on Maimonides here: why do you need a separate, special source for leavened bread? Like all Torah prohibitions, less than the minimum measure is prohibited by Torah law. “Shall not be eaten”—what does that mean? You already learned from that the prohibition of benefit. If this is not in the object itself, then how are you learning from it the prohibition of less than the minimum measure? You already learned the prohibition of benefit from “shall not be eaten.” What do we do when we have two derivations from the same verse? That is a known interpretive technique. Obviously it means it’s really the same principle learned from there. Right? If one verse teaches two things, one word can’t teach two unrelated things. So what do you have to say? That both things come from the same underlying principle. And that is what is written here in Maimonides.

Maimonides says: since the prohibition is not a prohibition in the object but a prohibition on an action, the rule of less than the minimum measure doesn’t apply to a prohibition of action. One can elaborate on this; I won’t because I don’t have time now. But with prohibitions of action there is no rule of less than the minimum measure. This is accepted by many later authorities (Acharonim), the Sefat Emet at the beginning of tractate Shabbat and in other places. With a prohibition of action there is no less-than-minimum-measure rule. And the prohibition of eating on Passover is not a prohibition of benefiting from the object, but a prohibition of action. An action—half an action is not an action. There is no prohibition of less than the minimum measure.

Therefore Maimonides says: fine, but there is a source—“shall not be eaten”—which teaches me that here too the rule of less than the minimum measure applies. So Maimonides is consistent with his view. Why does it come from the same verse? Because that same verse, written in the passive language “shall not be eaten,” teaches me that even though this is a prohibition of eating, it has the legal characteristics of ordinary prohibitions of eating. Even though it is an unusual prohibition of eating, it still has the legal characteristics of regular prohibitions of eating. What does that mean? Also prohibition of benefit, also less than the minimum measure, everything. So the same verse teaches both things, because it is the same derivation.

So in fact there are two laws in the prohibition of leavened bread. Now I’ll just finish with one more interesting conclusion. You can show this in many places, also regarding mixtures—there are many halakhic implications—but one additional interesting conclusion: there is one other historical prohibition that I can think of. Which historical prohibition? The sciatic nerve, right?

Look what Maimonides writes at the bottom of the first page, one of the examples he gives such as—yes, at the end—creeping things, swarming things, blood, a limb from a living animal, and the sciatic nerve, all of which are permitted for benefit by tradition. So everyone asks him: the Talmudic text in Pesachim 21a says that according to Rabbi Abbahu, the sciatic nerve is prohibited for benefit. Against what he writes here. Because if the sciatic nerve is prohibited for eating, and according to Rabbi Abbahu every prohibition of eating also implies a prohibition of benefit, then the sciatic nerve is prohibited for benefit. Maimonides says the sciatic nerve is prohibited for eating and permitted for benefit. Why? Very simple.

When Maimonides understands that a historical prohibition is a prohibition on an action, right—also regarding the sciatic nerve there is nothing repulsive. Why are we prohibited from eating it? Simply as a memorial to what happened with Jacob and the angel. In itself it is not forbidden food. So if it is not forbidden food, everything I said about leavened bread applies also to the sciatic nerve. It too is a historical prohibition. So what happens? Regarding leavened bread, when I have a prohibition of eating, I would not learn from that a prohibition of benefit, and therefore an additional source was needed to prohibit leavened bread for benefit. Regarding the sciatic nerve there is no additional source. So what remains? A prohibition of eating, yes; a prohibition of benefit, no.

Ah, but the Talmudic text in Pesachim says that Rabbi Abbahu prohibits benefit from the sciatic nerve? The Talmudic text in Pesachim says the same thing about leavened bread. Why are you asking only from the sciatic nerve? I’m asking. It’s true regarding leavened bread itself too: the dispute between Hezekiah and Rabbi Abbahu is brought regarding leavened bread, and Maimonides regarding leavened bread itself rules like Rabbi Abbahu but brings Hezekiah. The Talmudic text—you can show this in several stages in the sugya—Maimonides does not rule in accordance with the sugya in Pesachim. Maimonides did not learn like the sugya in Pesachim. Maybe his source is the sugya in Beitzah, I don’t know, but it is clear that he did not rule in accordance with the sugya in Pesachim, and that resolves many questions of the later authorities there. He comes out directly against the sugya in Pesachim, because the sugya in Pesachim really assumes that the prohibition of leavened bread is a regular prohibition, and this whole move has no place there at all—you can show this throughout the sugya. But Maimonides follows a different move, and his source can be discussed, maybe in the sugya in Beitzah, I don’t know. But he has a different move, and therefore he really rules that the sciatic nerve too, being a historical prohibition, is prohibited for eating. If there had been an additional source, it would also be prohibited for benefit; but there is no additional source. From the mere fact that it is prohibited for eating, a prohibition of benefit does not follow, and therefore it is permitted for benefit.

And in fact the Mishneh LaMelekh that I brought at the end—the Kesef Mishneh asks this question, and remains with it unresolved. Remember? The Kesef Mishneh asks both in law 2 and there too, and he says some forced answer. Because all along he didn’t read Maimonides this way. So he brings the Maharlanach, who writes that less than the minimum measure is prohibited only in object-based prohibitions, and regarding leavened bread that cannot be so, because leavened bread is permitted before and permitted after, and during Passover it is prohibited. On such a thing there is no prohibition of less than the minimum measure.

So everyone asks on that something astonishing: the whole dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish was said regarding Yom Kippur, about eating on Yom Kippur. And eating on Yom Kippur too is something that is permitted before and after. So I don’t understand—there the dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish was said. I don’t know what he means. If he means what I’m saying, then one can understand him, though it is a bit forced in his wording; otherwise what he says there is really strange.

What I said is different—not because it depends on time. The fact that it depends on time indicates that it is a historical prohibition. Since it is a historical prohibition, it is a prohibition on an action and not on the object itself. Therefore that is really how it works. But Yom Kippur is not like that. It is time-dependent, but it is not a historical prohibition. The thing itself is something one must keep away from on Yom Kippur; it is not that one is forbidden to perform the act of eating. One is forbidden to derive benefit on Yom Kippur—one has to afflict oneself, right? So what difference does it make that it is time-dependent? In practice I am forbidden not to afflict myself, so even if I ate half of the thing, I still didn’t afflict myself—meaning, if I ate half of the thing. But if what is forbidden is performing an act of eating, then half an action is not an action. Okay, so maybe that’s what he meant, maybe not.

One last comment: the Pri Megadim writes that less than the minimum measure of the sciatic nerve is permitted. Everyone asks him: why? Everywhere else in the Torah, with a prohibition of eating, less than the minimum measure is prohibited. So why regarding the sciatic nerve is it permitted? According to what I’m saying now—again, I don’t know a source for this in Maimonides—but according to what I’m saying now, it’s clear why. This too is a historical prohibition. Just as it is permitted for benefit, as Maimonides writes here, less than the minimum measure is also permitted, since the prohibition is not to derive benefit.

By the way, regarding the sciatic nerve it’s obvious that the prohibition is not about deriving benefit, because there is no benefit—it’s like wood, as the Talmudic text says, a dispute of Tannaim, but the sciatic nerve is like wood; there is no benefit in it, it isn’t fit for eating. The whole question—there is a difficult question regarding the sciatic nerve exactly parallel to leavened bread. With the sciatic nerve, the Torah prohibits for eating something that is not fit for eating; it is like wood, this sciatic nerve. So what is it prohibiting? The whole move I said about leavened bread I could also say about the sciatic nerve. It is no accident that in these two places—about sourdough starter, not by accident in these two places—the Torah prohibits something where the basic prohibition, what is written explicitly in the Torah—not obligations—sourdough starter in the context of leavened bread, and the sciatic nerve. Both are not fit for eating. Why? Because the Torah is telling us that the basis of the prohibition here is not the repulsiveness of the thing, not that the thing is itself repulsive, but rather you are forbidden to eat it for historical reasons. And therefore, with all the implications, there is no prohibition of benefit and there will be no prohibition of less than the minimum measure—unless there are special sources for the matter.

In the bottom line, basically what I’m claiming is that if you look at the halakhic expressions of the issue, then you can see something that is really seemingly obvious, even though over the years people haven’t seen it that way: the prohibition of leavened bread is basically only a historical prohibition. There is nothing defective here, and one does not need to stay away from it in hysteria as if it were some kind of evil inclination or I don’t know what exactly. One has to be careful about leavened bread, that’s perfectly fine. One has to be careful about leavened bread because the Torah says that this is what is incumbent on us on these days in order to remember the Exodus from Egypt. And the Torah says that; it’s not my innovation. In that sense, this conclusion really is self-evident—but I hope that.