Talmud, Yoma Chapter 8 – Lesson 10

Table of Contents

• The two passages: 82a versus 85b and the relationship between them
• Value conflicts, contradiction versus collision, and doubt about whether a complete resolution is possible
• Isaiah Leibowitz’s definition of value and its limitations
• The possibility of ranking values in practice and the proposal of “good” as a unit of measurement
• Morality, Jewish law, and “the will of God” as an overarching framework
• “And live by them” as a meta-halakhic principle, and the example of a sin committed for the sake of Heaven
• An analogy to the laws of saving property from a fire on the Sabbath
• Ran, Meiri, and Magen Avraham: why a verse is needed for saving life
• The sources for saving life on page 85, the refutations, and the rejection of certainty-versus-doubt distinctions
• The passage on page 82: the three sins, their sources, and the reasoning regarding bloodshed
• A Noahide and sanctifying God’s name as a practical ramification
• Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya versus Shmuel: a means for the commandments, or the value of life in itself
• A proposed resolution: “Desecrate one Sabbath for him” as a way of bypassing value-ranking
• End of the lecture and continuation

Summary

General overview

The text sets up the conflict between observing commandments and prohibitions and the value of life through two central Talmudic passages: on page 82, as the source for “be killed rather than transgress” with regard to three sins; and on page 85, as the sources for the idea that saving a life overrides the Sabbath and other prohibitions. It proposes distinguishing between an internal halakhic conflict and a value conflict, or meta-halakhic conflict, and develops a philosophical discussion about what a value is, whether it can be qualified and arranged into a hierarchy, and whether there is some common measure that allows decisions even between halakhic values and moral values. It then develops a reading that tries to resolve the tension between the passages and their various sources, while emphasizing the role of the verse “and live by them” as a principle of decision that is not an ordinary positive commandment, and offering an interpretation of “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” as a way to avoid the need for a direct ranking between the value of life and the value of the Sabbath.

The two passages: 82a versus 85b and the relationship between them

The passage on page 82 is understood as assuming that saving life overrides all prohibitions in general, and that only for the three most severe sins is a source needed for the exception of “be killed rather than transgress.” The passage on page 85 is framed as the question, “From where do we know that saving life overrides the Sabbath?” and it brings a series of sources. So on its face it presents a need for a derivation in order to permit setting aside the Sabbath for the sake of saving life, and it even distinguishes between certain danger to life and doubtful danger to life. The tension between the two passages is presented as a hidden dispute about the default assumption: without sources, does life override prohibitions, or the reverse? Possible practical ramifications are hinted at, such as the law of a Noahide with regard to self-sacrifice.

Value conflicts, contradiction versus collision, and doubt about whether a complete resolution is possible

The text distinguishes between an internal contradiction within a value system and a practical conflict that arises when two valid values collide under circumstances that do not allow both to be realized. It gives Sartre’s example of a student in occupied Paris who is torn between helping his mother and joining the struggle against the Nazis, in order to show that a value conflict is possible even without a conceptual contradiction. It raises the question of whether there is always a halakhic or ethical answer to every such conflict, and suggests that sometimes there may be no complete solution, even though in practice one is still obligated to seek a decision.

Isaiah Leibowitz’s definition of value and its limitations

Isaiah Leibowitz is presented as defining a value as something that cannot be rationalized or justified by means of a more basic principle derived from it, and therefore cannot be qualified. On that basis he opposes disconnecting a terminal patient from machines, from a view that the value of life cannot be limited. The text interprets the fact that values are not ultimately justified not as arbitrariness, but as the necessary stopping point in a chain of justifications at principles that are self-evident. It points to a difficulty in Leibowitz’s approach: if values cannot be measured, then there is no way to decide when values clash or to construct a hierarchy among them. The problem is described as the “incommensurability” of values without a common currency.

The possibility of ranking values in practice and the proposal of “good” as a unit of measurement

The text presents the opposite position, according to which in practice people do rank values and do qualify them, including through interests, and it gives the example, from Shai Wosner, of an actor debating whether to do a cigarette advertisement in exchange for a million dollars. It proposes that the concept of “good” can serve as a unit of measurement—not as an additional value that the values serve, but as a metric for their importance—and in that way a scale of values becomes possible. It argues that the very search for verses and reasoning in order to decide assumes that the question has an answer and is not meaningless, and therefore even in sharp conflicts there is some assumption of a shared measure.

Morality, Jewish law, and “the will of God” as an overarching framework

The text raises the question whether the conflict between the value of life and Sabbath / Yom Kippur / prohibitions is moral versus halakhic, or internal to Jewish law itself, and ties this to one’s conception of the relationship between morality and Jewish law. It presents a position according to which morality and Jewish law are foreign categories, yet there still exists an abstract framework that allows them to be ranked, and it proposes calling that framework “the will of God” or “the measure of what is proper.” Within that framework, the verse “and live by them” may be understood as a revelation of the will of God that is not necessarily part of the formal count of the commandments, similar to the way that enumerators of the commandments do not count “and you shall do what is right and good” or “you shall be holy.”

“And live by them” as a meta-halakhic principle, and the example of a sin committed for the sake of Heaven

The text argues that “and live by them” is not a positive commandment to preserve life set against other commandments, but rather a decision-rule that instructs us how to resolve the conflict between fulfilling a commandment and facing mortal danger. It compares this to “a sin for the sake of Heaven” and to examples like Yael, the wife of Hever the Kenite, with Sisera, and Lot’s daughters, who are treated with praise even though there is no ordinary halakhic permission for the transgressions involved. So what we have here is extra-halakhic or meta-halakhic judgment. It emphasizes that even if this were an ordinary positive commandment of “and live by them,” there would still remain a further conflict over which value overrides which, and therefore it is more plausible to see the verse itself as the rule of override, not as a competing value within the system.

An analogy to the laws of saving property from a fire on the Sabbath

The text brings the Talmudic passage in tractate Shabbat, in the chapter “All the Holy Writings,” about the prohibition of extinguishing a fire and the limitation on saving property, and explains that the Sages are not “adding another prohibition against an interest,” but are setting a rule of decision within a conflict. It uses this to sharpen the logical structure in which a rule of decision is not another weight on the scale, but a determination of the balance itself. From this it reinforces the thesis that “and live by them” functions as a principle of decision, not as the addition of another obligation that would itself require a new decision.

Ran, Meiri, and Magen Avraham: why a verse is needed for saving life

The Ran in Yoma is presented as asking why a verse is needed to teach that saving life overrides the Sabbath, if it could be explained by reasoning: “if a person dies, he will not be able to fulfill other commandments,” and “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.” He sharpens the point that the verse is needed to teach that the value of life stands even in its own right, and from here comes the discussion of desecrating the Sabbath for short-term life, where there is no prospect of fulfilling many commandments in the future. From this we learn that “and live by them” defines the Torah as given for life and not for death, and that saving life overrides the Sabbath not as a quantitative preference but as a qualitative definition of the Torah as a “Torah of life.”

The sources for saving life on page 85, the refutations, and the rejection of certainty-versus-doubt distinctions

In the passage on page 85, various sources are brought—Rabbi Yishmael, Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Elazar, Rabbi Yosei son of Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yonatan ben Yosef, Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya—and Shmuel, who gives the decisive source in “and live by them, and not that one should die by them.” Rava states that all the sources can be challenged except for Shmuel’s, mainly because many of the sources establish only certain danger to life but not doubtful danger to life, whereas Jewish law requires even doubtful danger to life to override the Sabbath. From this the text suggests that the Talmud assumes the ruling in advance and searches for a suitable source, but it also raises another possibility: an ancient tradition whose source was forgotten, and the discussion seeks to reconstruct the creative derivation behind it.

The passage on page 82: the three sins, their sources, and the reasoning regarding bloodshed

On page 82 a baraita is brought about a pregnant woman who smells consecrated meat or pork, and about the graduated permission until feeding her the fat itself. From there the rule is established that nothing stands in the way of saving life except for idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and bloodshed. For idolatry, a source is brought from “with all your soul” and “with all your might”; for forbidden sexual relations and bloodshed, a derivation is brought from “For as when a man rises against his neighbor and murders him, so is this matter”; and for bloodshed itself the reasoning is brought: “What makes you think your blood is redder?” The passage is presented as assuming that only the exceptions require grounding, whereas overriding all other prohibitions for the sake of saving life is already the default.

A Noahide and sanctifying God’s name as a practical ramification

The text ties the question “What is the law for a Noahide regarding sanctifying God’s name?” in Sanhedrin 74 to the question of which of the two passages reflects the default assumption prior to the special sources. It sketches the possibility that according to page 82, a Noahide is not required to give up his life for his prohibitions, whereas according to page 85 one might say that without verses there is no principle of override, and therefore a Noahide would have to give up his life even for more than that. It presents this as an indication of the broader question whether saving life is a basic principle or the product of a textual derivation.

Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya versus Shmuel: a means for the commandments, or the value of life in itself

The text points to a tension between “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” and “and live by them,” because the first sounds as though it presents life as a means for fulfilling commandments, whereas the second presents life as a decisive principle even without the prospect of future commandment observance. It cites the Biur Halakha on 329:4, which brings from the Meiri in Yoma that even if he cannot live even one more hour, there is still room for him to repent in his heart and confess. But it concludes there that as a matter of law, the permission is not dependent on commandments at all; rather, “we override all the commandments for the sake of the life of a Jew,” as Shmuel derives. This is strengthened by the words of Maimonides, that the laws of the Torah are not vengeance but mercy, kindness, and peace. The Biur Halakha presents the reason “Desecrate one Sabbath for him” as no more than a supporting rationale and not the foundation of the ruling, whereas the Meiri is understood as assuming that both sources can coexist.

A proposed resolution: “Desecrate one Sabbath for him” as a way of bypassing value-ranking

The text proposes that Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya is not saying that life is only a means for keeping the Sabbath. Rather, he bypasses the need to construct a hierarchy between life and Sabbath by making a calculation of loss versus gain within the same kind of value: desecrating one Sabbath leads to the keeping of many Sabbaths, and therefore the decision can be reached without determining whether the value of life is higher than the value of the Sabbath. It explains that this move fits with the Meiri’s expansion of “many Sabbaths” to include all the commandments in general, so that even short-term life can justify desecrating the Sabbath because of the possible addition of repentance and confession. Within this framework there is no necessary contradiction between Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya and Shmuel, because Shmuel builds a principled meta-halakhic ruling on the value of life, whereas Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya offers a decision mechanism that does not depend on direct ranking.

End of the lecture and continuation

The text concludes by saying that the discussion was cut short because of time, and that it will continue on Sunday, God willing.

Okay, so the topic is conflicts between observing commandments, violating prohibitions, and the value of life. And on this matter there are two central passages in our chapter. One is on 82a, the passage I referred you to, which is a passage that deals, in essence, with the sources needed to prove that for the three most severe transgressions one must be killed rather than transgress. On 85b there is a passage that talks about life-saving on the Sabbath, or life-saving and prohibitions, Yom Kippur, and there all kinds of sources are brought, seemingly in the opposite direction. One second, yes, right, mine is muted, yes, now I hear. No, I just wanted to say that we got contradictory messages about today’s learning, and maybe some people understood that there isn’t a class today. Oh really? I got an email today correcting some supposed mistake from two o’clock. There was some mistake—Nahum thought they were finishing at two, and he corrected it, he said they’re finishing at four, but I don’t think beyond that. I see, okay, so probably the guys are still at selichot. Yes, could be. Anyway, so the passage on 85b talks about life-saving in the context of ordinary commandments, not the three severe ones. The relation between these two passages is really what I want to touch on a bit today, because it sheds some light—or really two possible kinds of light—on the issue of life-saving in general. The question is which passage is primary and which is secondary out of the two. But before that I wanted to say a little about value-conflicts in general. This is something you may already have heard from me; I no longer remember what I said when. Maybe the first point that needs to be examined here is basically—maybe an earlier question: why do we need this? This conflict is supposedly a conflict between commandments, a positive commandment, a prohibition, I don’t know exactly what. But it’s not so simple. The Gemara brings “and live by them,” and then maybe one could indeed understand that the value of life is a value in itself, a halakhic value, and that turns the conflict into an internal halakhic conflict. But on the face of it, when it’s presented, it’s not presented that way. It’s presented as the value of life versus prohibitions, commandments, and so on, without bothering to say what the source of the value of life actually is. Meaning, who said these things have any value at all? It’s somehow taken as self-evident. It doesn’t look or smell like an internal halakhic conflict, like a positive commandment overriding a prohibition, or all kinds of internal halakhic conflicts. Maybe it’s a bit similar to human dignity, where too there is human dignity without any clear source being brought for it, and on the other hand there are prohibitions, and the question is what we do when there is a clash. There too it looks a little like a conflict between a value and a commandment or prohibition. So I think some small introduction is needed about value-conflicts and about values in general, and then we can enter the passage itself and, among other things, also see whether this is a value-conflict or a halakhic conflict, and whether there’s even any difference. That I know. Yes, okay, we can start there. Yes, exactly. So I’ll do it briefly, since some people will have to make it up, so I’ll do it briefly.

First of all, regarding the definition of what a value is. Yeshayahu Leibowitz, in one of his articles—he writes this in several places, but he has an article at the end of the book Faith, History, and Values—he talks there about disconnecting some American girl from machines. She had some terminal illness, no chance she’d recover, unconscious, she was basically no longer with us. The question was whether she could be disconnected from the machines. There was a stormy public controversy there. Leibowitz argues that no value can be qualified, meaning he opposes disconnecting her from the machines because he says that an argument in favor of disconnecting from machines is built in such a way that it rationalizes the value of life. Meaning, it basically says that life is valuable because it gives me X, Y, and Z, and where it doesn’t give me X, Y, and Z, it is no longer valuable and therefore it may be harmed. Meaning, therefore one may kill. The moment you qualify some value, you have basically rationalized it. You said it serves certain other things, and if it doesn’t serve them, then it is no longer valid and may be harmed. And therefore he says that from his point of view this is a mistake in understanding the concept of value. The concept of value basically means something that cannot be rationalized. When you explain some value-based or ethical decision of yours, you explain it in terms of values. You say: why is it forbidden to murder? Because life has value. And I ask you: and why does life have value? The answer is: because. And there cannot be any principle more fundamental and more self-evident than commitment to value, and therefore there can never be an explanation of value, and therefore there also cannot be a rationalization of value, because rationalization always derives from explanation. Meaning, the value comes to achieve X, Y, and Z, and where it doesn’t achieve X, Y, and Z, it no longer obligates. And once there are no rationalizations, no explanations of what the value is meant to achieve or what the basis of this value is, then by definition it also cannot be qualified. So that is Leibowitz’s claim.

And I’ll just say briefly, of course, that the arbitrariness of values—which in Leibowitz one might get the impression means something arbitrary in the sense of meaningless, something you could decide by lottery, just because I feel like it, and not really something I think is right, but something I decided in an arbitrary way—I don’t think that’s what is meant, and I think that’s not even what he himself meant, though because of his positivist limitations he often wasn’t aware of what he himself meant, at least in my opinion. Rather, the claim is that the value is so self-evident that it does not require justification through principles outside it—not that it is arbitrary. Just as every chain of justification—you justify principle A by principle B, principle B by principle C—at some point that chain of justifications has to stop. It stops at the point where you get stuck with a principle that needs no justification. Because if it stops at a place where I have no justification, meaning it’s arbitrary, then the whole chain of justification is worth nothing. Meaning, if principle Z is arbitrary, then why should I care that you justified principle W or principle Y on the basis of principle Z? If Z is arbitrary, then Y built upon it is also arbitrary, and so on. Anyone who assumes values are not arbitrary must in fact assume that at the base of moral reasoning, ethical reasoning, there is some set of principles—one principle or several, doesn’t matter—some set of principles that does not require justification, meaning that it is self-evident in itself. That set is what we call values. Meaning, values are basically those things that need no justification; they are self-evident. So when someone asks me why human life has value, the answer is: because. But “because” not in the sense of “arbitrarily so,” but in the sense that it is self-evident; it does not require justification beyond that.

Once, in the yeshiva in Yeruham, there was a discussion about why one should study Torah. All kinds of justifications were offered: it improves us, it improves the world, it enables us to know what to do, yes, how to conduct ourselves in practice, and things of that sort. And I said I wasn’t sure I agreed with that whole pattern of discussion at all, beyond the specific answers given there, because when you ask why one should do X, you assume that X is not a value. You are basically assuming there is some Y that is more self-evident, by means of which you can explain why one should do X. But when you are at the most fundamental X, meaning at a value, then when you ask why one should do it, by definition you will have no answer. And it may be that the value of Torah study is something meant to be understood from within itself and not explained by other things; that you simply say: why study Torah? Because it brings me close to the Holy One, blessed be He. And then I’ll ask, okay, and why get close to the Holy One, blessed be He? Then there you’ll give me the “because,” or you’ll give me another explanation, and when I ask about that, then there you’ll give me the “because.” So it may be that with the value of Torah study itself, already there I can say to you: because, and that’s it. Meaning, it is self-evident. It’s an option—it doesn’t have to be true there, I’m only saying that such discussions need to be questioned, because by definition such discussions always assume that the principle under discussion is not a value. If it were a value, then it could not be grounded in more fundamental things.

So if I summarize this point: a value is basically something that cannot be rationalized, and therefore also cannot be justified or grounded in more fundamental principles. It is the set of the most fundamental principles. That is what is called a value.

Now the problem with Leibowitz’s claim is that according to him there is also no way to decide a conflict between values. When there is a clash between two values, value A and value B, there is no way to decide, because the way to decide is always: I need to measure value A and value B and decide which one is stronger, which one overrides the other. But if I cannot measure different values, then I have no way to weigh them, and no way to decide between them, or no way to establish a hierarchy, a scale of values. And consequently I also cannot decide the conflicts in which I find myself. If there is a clash between two values, I have no way to determine what I am supposed to do.

My favorite example in this regard is one Sartre, the French philosopher, brings. A student of his in occupied Paris during World War II was torn between two possibilities, a moral dilemma, and shared it with his rabbi—well, with Sartre. He was there with his elderly mother, alone in occupied Paris. She wasn’t feeling well and needed help. His brother was collaborating with the Nazis, the husband had been murdered by the Nazis, and she was left alone with him. In short, only he could help her on one hand. On the other hand, he wanted to flee and join de Gaulle’s Free French army and fight the Nazis. So now he asks Sartre what to do, what takes precedence. Obviously there is a conflict here between two values to which he is committed. He is committed both to fighting evil and to helping his elderly mother. His question is not which value he is committed to—I’m clearly committed to both. My question is which one ranks higher on the scale. Which one overrides the other.

Now of course this is also a very simplistic description, because it’s not just some abstract scale of fighting evil versus helping one’s mother. You can bring in quantitative considerations: how much will my contribution to the fight against evil really be? I am one soldier out of millions fighting in this war, whereas for my mother I am the only one who can help. On the other hand, fighting evil means saving the world, not just my mother. And saving my mother means saving one person, who is very close to me but still one person, and it’s not even certain that I’m really saving her—it’s helping her. Anyway, of course one can bring in many, many more considerations. To present this as the value of fighting evil versus the value of helping one’s mother is very simplistic, but I’m only trying to illustrate the principle.

So from here we learn a few things. First, that in principle a value-conflict is a possible situation. Because one might have said: how can there be a value-conflict? If there is a clash between value X and value Y, then if I am committed to value X, obviously I cannot be committed to value Y. After all, they contradict each other. So there cannot be states of value-conflict. That is not true. Why not? Because value X does not contradict value Y; it clashes with value Y. That is not the same thing. You cannot hold a value system that says human life has value and human life has no value. That is a contradiction, obviously. But you can hold a value system in which there is value in fighting evil and there is value in helping one’s mother. There is no contradiction whatsoever between those two things. Reality has placed me in a situation in which I cannot realize both. There is no contradiction in terms of the content of the two values, there is no obstacle to being committed to both; it is simply that the circumstances created a situation in which I cannot realize both, and then I am torn over which one is more important, which one overrides the other. That is basically the difference, and it is an important difference, between contradiction and conflict. Because if every value-conflict were a contradiction, then there would be no conflicts. There would only be my mistakes. If I’m in a conflict, I’m simply confused and don’t know whether I’m committed to value X or to value Y, but in fact I am committed only to one of them. But real conflicts always arise when I am committed both to X and to Y, and there is no principled obstacle to my being committed to both as long as there is no direct contradiction between them in content.

If we talk about life-saving and the Sabbath, as in one of our passages, then there is no principled contradiction between commitment to Sabbath observance and the value of life. The fact that both these values are on my value-scale—there is nothing problematic about that. It is definitely a possible state, and not only possible but actual in Jewish law. The only issue is that sometimes a situation arises in which I cannot realize both. And that is what I call a conflict, as distinct from a contradiction.

Now, in principle there is no problem with a conflict existing, but of course there is a practical problem: I need to decide what to do. So there is no principled question here, but there is a practical question. Meaning: what should be done.

By the way, another comment someone made to me recently on my website: do I assume there really is a halakhic or ethical solution to every such conflict—what in logical-mathematical language is called the completeness of Jewish law, whether Jewish law is complete. Meaning: is there a halakhic answer to every such question or every conflict? I’m not sure. It’s definitely possible—and I even said there that I tend to think not. There are situations where I do not see a halakhic solution. Sometimes there are those solutions like “better to remain passive,” because then, if you have no solution, there is always some way out. And there are situations where even that is not a solution. And therefore I’m not sure there has to be an answer to every such thing. But of course if I am in a conflict I need to look for an answer in order to know what to do. At worst I won’t find one. Fine, then I won’t know what to do, I’ll flip a coin. But in principle I am looking for an answer. I look for an answer not because a contradiction has to be solved—it is not a contradiction where I need to decide which of the two sides I reject. It is a conflict, and therefore it is a problem in the practical sense of what to do, but there is no principled theoretical question here of which of the two values exists and which does not exist. There is some theoretical dimension in the sense that I need to decide which of the two values is higher on the scale. That is indeed a value judgment. It is not only a purely practical question. It affects the practical question, but it also touches the general abstract theoretical issue, because what I really want to ask is not which value exists and which does not—both exist—but which of them stands higher on the scale. In that sense this is indeed some sort of theoretical question or clarification. I need to do it.

What you are assuming here is that there really is more than one value. There are people who would offer a worldview according to which everything is ultimately derived from one basic value at the foundation, and then there are no conflicts either. No, I’m not entirely sure. What do you mean, there are no conflicts? Say, for example, obeying the voice of the Holy One, blessed be He, something that stands at the basis. Exactly—that’s exactly the example I wanted to bring. Obeying the voice of the Holy One, blessed be He. Now I have a case of life-saving on the Sabbath—what do I do? Yes, no, so now it becomes a question of what He meant me to do in this case. Fine, but that is already a different type of question. It’s not a question—it’s a question belonging to factual halakhic clarification, if you like. What do you mean factual? You could also call moral clarification factual clarification—the question of what is moral. Yes, but those aren’t facts about the weight of values. For me it’s simply knowing—it’s interpretation of verses or some way of knowing His intention. No, if I have verses, then I know what He wants. If I don’t have verses, I’m in a dilemma. But you are assuming moral inquiry will clarify His intention? I don’t know. No, either moral inquiry or conceptual reasoning—not necessarily moral, I don’t know. But I need to clarify the intention, and what kind of reasoning I need to enlist—if it’s not reasoning from the moral realm, then for me it’s not a moral conflict. Why not? It could—again, it doesn’t have to be a moral conflict. In the case of the will of God it could be a halakhic conflict. There is indecision over what to do, that I agree with; you can’t erase that. It is a conflict, that’s what it’s called. Yes, but it’s not a moral conflict, because a moral conflict means that I am required to decide what is more valuable in my eyes. But here that is not what’s happening. I already know what is more valuable in my eyes. No, you don’t know that. I just don’t know what the right act is. You don’t know what is more valuable. What is more valuable, Sabbath observance or the value of life in the eyes of the Holy One, blessed be He? So I have a problem here that I don’t know which of the two is the correct act. De facto it is the same thing. In both cases you are saying: what is more important in the eyes of the Holy One, blessed be He? No, imagine that same student who was torn and asked Sartre had a dilemma simply about how to help his mother—whether to bring a doctor from Vienna or a doctor from Venice. Same thing. Is that a moral dilemma? That is a medical dilemma. No, a moral dilemma because the medical step has moral significance. Yes, definitely. Obviously. But his uncertainty is about which doctor is better. No model of moral thinking is going through his head while he is weighing it. No, you could also say in that context that the question is what contributes more to the increase of good in the world. And then you could say: okay, let’s look at the idea of the good, and this is only a factual question. You can translate it that way. No, then people who have a worldview with many values, as you said, will say: good is just a catch-all term that includes many things. You can’t say what it includes. I don’t think so. I think it is not a catch-all term, but a fundamental term that stands at the base of all values. Is it not a value? Then really the discussion collapses from moral discussion into medical discussion. Right, right. Moral realism is basically what it would do to every moral question. The point is that there is an important point here: the concept of good, even if I accept it as some basic concept standing at the basis of all values, does not mean that it is the basic value. There is no value of doing good. Good is the unit of measurement that measures how important it is to realize the various values. It’s not another value. It’s not that the values come to serve some other value called doing good. The values are the realization—that is what is called doing good. It doesn’t serve doing good; it is the translation of what doing good means at all. Okay, so in that sense I—translating into good is not the same thing as making an act derivative of a value. There is some other relation between value and good and act, as opposed to act and value.

Well, these are philosophical discussions whose place is not here. I just want to summarize that when we speak here about value-conflicts, I am basically talking about a question with two aspects. One aspect is the practical one: what should be done? Even if I don’t decide it on the theoretical level, in order to decide what to do I do need some discussion that has a theoretical aspect. It has a theoretical aspect in that I want to know what the value-scale is; meaning, whether value A is above value B on the scale or lower. And that is already a theoretical question. In essence it is not different from the question whether value A is on my list of values at all. In principle that is a theoretical question, and this too is a theoretical question. It is not a question tied to this situation here—that’s what I call a theoretical question. A theoretical question in the sense that it does not pertain to the situation I am discussing here; it has implications, but it is not derived from the situation. It is something I need to decide before I approach the situation. In that sense it is a general theoretical question, a general ethical or halakhic question, depending on the context.

The problem is that when we understand that a value is basically something that cannot be rationalized and cannot be explained, then apparently there is also no way to rank values relative to one another. And therefore the problem of constructing a value-scale becomes basically an impossible problem. Why? Because in order to rank values in some hierarchy—this over that—I need to measure them on some scale that, on the one hand, stands outside them, which according to the definition we gave before of value does not exist, and on the other hand also has to be shared by them, otherwise I cannot compare them. Yes, when I ask myself what there is more of—human kindness among people or water in the oceans, yes, my favorite example—it’s not that I don’t know the answer; there is no answer. Why is there no answer? Because they are measured in units that don’t speak to each other. It is a totally different type of magnitude, and therefore there is no way to determine an answer to that question.

Now if values basically cannot be measured on a scale external to them—for example, the value of life we spoke about before cannot be measured by asking how much good I can do in the world or how much pleasure I can have or whatever things of that sort, because there is no scale external to that value that can measure how much it is worth—then I have no way to determine how much that value is worth, and certainly I cannot place it on some objective scale shared with another value. When I want to know where to place life-saving and the Sabbath on the halakhic value-scale in this case, not necessarily the moral one, then I have to measure them in a shared halakhic currency. Then I say life-saving equals ten and the Sabbath equals seven, and therefore life-saving is higher on the halakhic scale than Sabbath observance. But to do that I need, first, to measure both values, and second, to measure them on a shared scale. And that is something that according to the definition of values simply cannot be done. Therefore the problem of constructing a value-scale appears on its face to be unsolvable.

The positivists claim all this talk is meaningless. But this whole claim, if I understand correctly, is based on the idea that a value cannot be limited in any way, because if it can be, then I don’t really understand. What do you mean limited? Qualified, what I spoke about before—rationalized, right. No, but in my view you don’t need that addition. Everyone understands that we qualify values all the time, even if there is only one value. No, that’s the paradox. No, but not only through another value. Plainly: a person is not willing to sacrifice his entire self for a value. Even interest qualifies values, right? Exactly. But once I have the possibility of qualifying values with interest, then that’s it—I have a currency and I can measure them all. How much of my interest does this value require and how much does that one, and then I know which is greater. But that is exactly the problem. That’s why I said it’s a paradox. You say, after all, it’s obvious we do this. That itself is the paradox. No no. On the one hand it’s obvious we do it, on the other hand the theoretical accounting says it isn’t possible. I’m saying I don’t need to get to conflicts between values in order to show the solution. What do you mean? Even interest and value is also a conflict between values. Yes, fine, okay. It’s enough for me to know that in practice we do limit value—even a value. That you don’t know. I’m asking how that can be. I’m not asking what we do in practice. I know that we do it in practice. But that was a basic assumption of the discussion you brought from Leibowitz—that one may not limit a value. I don’t understand why that is so. No, he says that if the definition of value means something that cannot be rationalized—you can’t, if that is the definition of values, that you cannot ground them on some principle external to them, you cannot measure them—then the upshot follows. Now the fact that we do do it, that’s true; that’s the paradox. No, but why does it follow? That is the step I didn’t understand. How do you measure a value and determine how much it is worth in terms of interest? After all, it does not come to serve interests. Right, the value does not come to serve anything. So where did it come from? It appears with a certain force that obligates me up to a certain boundary. No—again, same thing. So where from? Then you are saying the scale also appears. Just as the value appears, the scale appears too. Fine. What that basically means is that there must be some solution to this paradox, but you are not explaining what the solution is. The claim, I think, in the end—the problem, in my opinion, is perfectly clear. The fact that we do this, again, is like Achilles and the tortoise. They say Achilles can never catch the tortoise. What do you mean? Run a race and you’ll see Achilles catches the tortoise. No, no, this isn’t that kind of thing. It’s even more than that: he is not surprised that values just appear to him; what surprises him is that the scale he attaches to them—that already seems to him nonsense. I can’t quite understand it. It’s as if he stopped halfway. No, you’re saying: if you accept that values are produced out of thin air—not produced but that we understand them to exist out of thin air, they exist, they justify themselves, let’s call it that—then they also justify the scale. You can also justify the level at which they obligate us. That is part of the matter. But that still means there is a scale. And what that means is that his definition of value is apparently not precise. A value is indeed measured on some scale, even if I don’t know how to put it exactly on the table. That is basically what you are saying. Fair enough. That is an answer to the question—it’s not that the question was flawed from the outset. It is an answer to the question. You are basically saying that once we rank values, we are in fact attaching weights to values, and therefore we can create a hierarchy among them. Now that basically matches what you said before: it means that values can in fact be measured in some way, and Leibowitz is wrong in saying that values are out of the blue, some sort of thing that can’t be grounded in anything, can’t be rationalized, can’t be measured. No, that first part is absolutely true—that they cannot be grounded in other things or rationalized, all that is fine. It’s only the part that says this obligates us without limit—that seems on its face to be a logical leap. It doesn’t follow from that position. I don’t know if it’s the same thing. I need to think about it. Well, maybe, I need to think more about it. But in any case, in the bottom line I completely agree.

In the end we do create hierarchies. For example, the example I once saw in an article by Shai Wozner from Tel Aviv University. He talks about an actor who is deliberating whether to appear in a cigarette commercial. He goes to consult his doctor friend. They’re offering him a million dollars, and he’ll have to smoke a few cigarettes for it. So the friend tells him: look, as a doctor I tell you it’s forbidden; cigarettes aren’t healthy. As a friend I tell you go for it quickly, because a million dollars is a million dollars, with all due respect to a few cigarettes. Now what does that mean? You are basically saying there is some sort of quantitative calculation: that the amount of money you will get certainly overrides the small health damage caused by a few cigarettes. But on the face of it, the incommensurability—the lack of a shared measure—between those things doesn’t allow comparison. Even if there is a lot, a lot of human kindness among people and very little water in the oceans, I still cannot answer the question which there is more of: human kindness or water. They are simply two different kinds of thing. You don’t need to compare them. You need to compare the level of your obligation to each of them, and that is definitely possible. Why am I obligated to each? No, once they are two different things, then when you speak of obligation you are merely skipping over the problem, not solving it. Why? The amount of my obligation to each is how much of my interest I need to sacrifice in order to fulfill each one. I don’t need to measure them. Okay, so you’ve gone back to measurement—you’ve gone back to measuring them in units. You compare by how many units of interest you sacrifice. Yes. Meaning you are claiming there is a scale on which I can weigh values. It is expressed in how much interest I must sacrifice for them. Fine. But actually I think that brings us back to the question of good that I spoke about before. The question is: how good is this? How good is life-saving or how good is Sabbath observance? And I say this is a greater number of units of good than that. And therefore, although it serves nothing—and in that I agree with Leibowitz, because the good is not a more fundamental value that the other things serve—that does not mean there is no unit by which one can measure the validity or strength or importance of the different values. How much good there is in each of them. And then I build a value-scale. How do I know this? The same way I know the values themselves. As you said earlier, it appears. I may not know how to say it in words, but I feel it. I understand that this is the proper measure for each value.

I’ll say even more than that: if we really understand values as truly incommensurable, meaning there really is no shared measure, like human kindness and water in the ocean, then even learning it from a verse could not solve the problem. Because if there were a verse that told me, look, there is more human kindness than water in the oceans, that wouldn’t help me at all. Because a verse can help me where there is an answer and I’m just not smart enough to know what it is, so the verse comes and tells me what the answer is. But in a place where there is essentially no answer—not that I am not clever enough to know it, but there is no answer because the question is meaningless—then no verse can teach me that. So the moment I decide such a question, whether by reason or by verse, I am basically saying that it has some answer, even if I don’t know it. Now we have to look for verses, arguments, whatever. But the assumption in such a conflict is that there is an answer. Because otherwise there is no point looking for arguments and verses. Therefore this whole discussion assumes that it is not true that there is incommensurability here, that there is no shared measure for the values between which I am torn.

One more sentence about this conflict between the value of life and commandments and prohibitions. The question is how to view this kind of conflict. Is it a conflict between morality and Jewish law? Is it a conflict between one halakhic principle and another? Maybe it is even a moral conflict, because observing Jewish law itself has some moral value or moral utility or however you want to define it. This is not such a simple question. It obviously depends on your conceptions—how you understand what Jewish law is and the relation between it and morality, what it is meant to achieve, and so on. But assuming—and this is the assumption I think is correct—that morality and Jewish law are two different categories, even alien categories I would say, then there is room to say that what we have here is some kind of conflict between a moral principle—the value of life—and a halakhic principle—observing the Sabbath, Yom Kippur, forbidden foods, things of that sort. And that seems even more incommensurable than a conflict within morality or within Jewish law, because it is talking about two different conceptual spheres altogether: the moral sphere and the halakhic sphere. But as I said earlier, the fact is that we bother to investigate and believe there is an answer even to questions of that sort, which in effect means that we implicitly assume there is an answer, even if we don’t know it. Now we have to dig and look for what it is, but there is an answer here. Meaning, even this extreme incommensurability between morality and Jewish law—not two moral values or two halakhic values, but between a moral value and a halakhic value—even there, at the base, there is some shared measure.

I don’t think anyone expects an answer to that. I don’t see a conflict there at all. It’s clear to me that Jewish law says this and morality says that—it’s not… No, and still the question is what should be done. What should be done, what is proper to do—that is a purely moral question. It’s a moral question, because it’s a question of what is proper. The words “what is proper.” What Jewish law says to do—that’s one thing. What morality says—that’s another. What is proper to do—that’s a moral question. What are you talking about? What are you talking about? Just as this cannot be a halakhic question, it also cannot be a moral question. What? Just as it cannot be a halakhic question, it also cannot be a moral question. Because if you are discussing a conflict between morality and Jewish law, the judge has to be something that is neither morality nor Jewish law, but something more fundamental. No, the question of how to act is never a halakhic question. Jewish law says what to do, and if I decide to do the opposite… I didn’t say it was a halakhic question. I said… I didn’t say it was a halakhic question. No, I said it’s not a moral question. I didn’t say it was a halakhic question. So I think that’s what remains here, though. No, I claim—that’s exactly what I want to claim. I claim that just as we treated the good as the basic scale shared by all values, there is some more fundamental scale that is probably shared by all types of values, including halakhic values and moral values. You can call it the degree of propriety, I don’t know how you want to phrase it. Call it whatever you want. Fine, that’s morality—the existing category. No, no, I don’t think so. Why invent something new? No, that’s not right. Jewish law does not come to serve morality. You cannot measure Jewish law in moral terms. No, my obligation to Jewish law is a moral matter. No, it is not morality. Without morality I have no reason at all to do it. Ah, there you go—that is tied to conceptions about Jewish law. I don’t agree. My obligation to Jewish law does not derive—I don’t care if Jewish law tells me to do non-moral things; but my obligation to fulfill it, in my view, does not derive from morality. In my view it does not derive from morality. In my view that is the truth; in my view that is morality. Fine, but that really takes us farther afield. The word “truth” in this context is not clear to me. Okay.

In any case, the point is that the assumption behind this inquiry is that there is some scale on which we can arrange moral values and halakhic values as well, whatever your conception may be. If you ground everything in morality, then fine, there’s no problem, and of course you don’t need this extra step. I am adding this step according to my own view, because in my view the obligation to Jewish law too is alien to moral principles; it is not connected to morality. And still I say there is an abstract, theoretical basis for ranking halakhic values and moral values. And that is, ostensibly, what the discussion in our passage is about.

You might call this general principle, perhaps, the will of God. Because the will of God is expressed in Jewish law, but not only in it. There are moral principles that do not enter Jewish law, there are halakhic principles that do not belong to morality, and the Holy One, blessed be He, wants me to be committed both to Jewish law and to morality. So for me, the will of God is perhaps one of the possible names for this propriety I spoke about before, or for the measure of “good” in quotation marks—not good in the moral sense but good in the general value sense. Okay? Which basically connects all these things, and I ask how much the will of God is in this as opposed to that, and the scale on which I hang those values is the scale of the will of God. Not the scale of morality and not the scale of Jewish law. And on that scale all values are hung, both moral and halakhic. And since it is the will of God, it makes a lot of sense to look for it in the Torah, even if the answer may not be halakhic, because if the answer is halakhic, then seemingly that does not solve the problem, but still there is reason to look for it in the Torah.

Maybe I’ll add one more sentence on this. When the passage brings “and live by them,” I noted this earlier, it is basically inserting the value of life into the basket of halakhic values. Because ostensibly there is a verse here. But I’m not sure. Because the enumerators of the commandments, as far as I remember at least, do not count “and live by them” as a commandment. Nor do they count “and you shall do what is right and good,” even though that too is a verse in the Torah, or “you shall be holy.” Why? Because there are things that appear in the Torah that are certainly expressions of the will of God, but they are not part of Jewish law. And therefore they won’t appear in the count of the commandments. So the fact that we introduce the verse “and live by them” does not necessarily mean that I was wrong before in saying that this is a conflict between a moral value and a halakhic value. Because ostensibly, after the verse “and live by them,” this becomes an internal halakhic conflict. But no, not necessarily. The verse “and live by them” can certainly be a revelation of the will of God—of what it is proper to do in a conflict between Jewish law and morality. That revelation itself is not Jewish law. It cannot be Jewish law when it speaks about the status of Jewish law vis-à-vis morality, or a halakhic value vis-à-vis a moral value. Then it is not likely that Jewish law—or the tool that resolves that conflict—would itself be a halakhic tool. Because after all I am judging Jewish law here against another category. So Jewish law itself cannot decide its status relative to that other category, because then I have effectively subordinated the other category to Jewish law as well. So therefore I say: all this, of course, requires a much broader elaboration about conceptions of morality and Jewish law and the will of God and so on. I won’t get into all that here. But I’m saying this is basically the picture that emerges even if I accept—and that is my personal view—that Jewish law and morality are alien to one another. Even if I accept that, and that everything enters together under the category of the will of God, one has to understand that “and live by them” as against other commandments or prohibitions is not a principle of override like “a positive commandment overrides a prohibition.” A positive commandment overriding a prohibition is a principle of override between one halakhic rule and another; it is a quintessentially halakhic principle. The principle of “and live by them” is, plainly, not a halakhic principle; it is a meta-halakhic principle, a principle related to the will of God, not to Jewish law.

Take, for example, another case: “a transgression for the sake of Heaven.” The Gemara says that a transgression done for the sake of Heaven is greater than a commandment done not for its own sake. The example is Yael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, with Sisera—she had relations with him in order to save Israel or something like that. There is no halakhic permission for that; it is a transgression. But under the circumstances that prevailed there, the Sages praise her—this is a transgression for the sake of Heaven. Now it is clear that this permission of a transgression for the sake of Heaven, or this positive evaluation of it, does not derive from its being halakhically permitted. I know of no rule in Jewish law saying that one may violate forbidden sexual relations. Forbidden sexual relations are overridden for nothing in the world; I know of no halakhic qualification permitting them. And yet the Sages understood it as an act worthy of praise. The same with Lot’s daughters there, who appear immediately afterward in that same passage—not in the context of a transgression for the sake of Heaven, but right after it, where the association is very clear. There too the Sages praise them very highly—maybe people don’t know this so well. Why? I do not think there is a halakhic statement there. There is no halakhic statement saying that a daughter may have relations with her father in order to bring children into the world. No such halakhic permission exists anywhere—you won’t find it in the Shulchan Arukh, not in Maimonides, nowhere else. Except in the passage of “transgression for the sake of Heaven,” of course, because that passage is not a halakhic passage; it is an extra-halakhic one. There are situations in which Jewish law itself stands in conflict with principles outside it, and Jewish law will not always prevail. Sometimes the will of God is that the other principles prevail over Jewish law in extreme cases—whatever they may be—but there are cases where the will of God is that this should prevail. Sometimes I can learn of that will of God from verses. That is not always true; for example, with Lot’s daughters I’m not sure they could have learned it from verses. But in the case of “and live by them,” for example, it is certainly possible that I can learn it from verses.

Because otherwise, think about it: what is the verse “and live by them”? Is it a commandment, a positive commandment? If it is a positive commandment, then it still hasn’t solved my problem. Who says that the positive commandment of “and live by them”—you brought me the verse “and live by them,” okay—but who says that that positive commandment overrides the prohibitions it is supposed to override? So you brought me a verse—so what? I still have a conflict. Therefore it is even plausible to say that the verse “and live by them” was not brought as a positive commandment. It was brought as a meta-halakhic principle which does not instruct me to do something—it is itself the rule of override, the verse “and live by them.” The verse “and live by them” does not command me to live. There is no commandment to live. The verse “and live by them” reveals to me a meta-halakhic principle of how conflicts of this kind are resolved. Therefore it speaks directly about the conflict. It is not that once I have “and live by them,” okay, now I have the verse “and live by them” versus the obligation to observe the Sabbath—which one prevails? I’m again in a conflict, so how did that help me? How did that help me? You brought me the positive commandment of “and live by them” versus the obligation to observe the Sabbath—so now what do I do? No. The verse “and live by them” is not a value standing opposite Sabbath observance. The verse “and live by them” is the rule that tells me that life overrides Sabbath observance. It states the rule of override itself. It does not state a positive commandment. It is a verse that states a rule of override, not a verse expressing a value; it is not a verse saying “this is the right thing to do.” It is a verse saying what to do when there is a conflict. So there is no room to ask: okay, after we have the verse, who says it overrides the… Yes, that reminds me—the associations are flowing today—of the Gemara in tractate Shabbat, in the chapter “All Sacred Writings.” It says there that a person may not extinguish a fire on the Sabbath, even if all his property and house are going up in flames. And not only that: he may not even save things out of the burning house except food for three meals, a garment, and sacred writings. Other than that, he may not save anything. Think about it. All your property is going up in flames. Your whole life you’re going to become destitute and dependent on charity. What you need to do in order to save yourself from that is a labor not needed for its own sake—a rabbinic prohibition in practice. Meaning, extinguishing a fire when you don’t need the charcoal, extinguishing where you don’t need the charcoal, is labor not needed for its own sake, a rabbinic prohibition. Not to mention rescuing things from the fire without extinguishing it, which is two rabbinic levels removed—a rabbinic decree lest you come to extinguish, while extinguishing itself is only a rabbinic prohibition. Two rabbinic levels. Now I don’t save all my earthly possessions because of some two-level rabbinic prohibition. So I ask: tell me, after all, it’s rabbinic. The answer is what I said earlier. The Sages did not forbid it in that sense. It is not a rabbinic prohibition standing against my interest in saving my property. The Sages determined the resolution of the conflict. They did not place another horn against this horn in a conflict where they collide and now I have to decide. Rather, the Sages determined what the decision in the conflict is. It is a rule of decision; it is not that they added another prohibition on saving things from the house, and now that prohibition stands against my interest in saving my property and now I have to ask which matters more. No. They did not say there is a prohibition on saving things from the house as a prohibition that competes with the interest. They already addressed the resolution. They said what it is right to decide in this conflict.

Now you could still come and say that I do not obey them even regarding this rule of decision. But I’m saying on the logical level, in terms of their form of reasoning, they established here a rule of decision; they did not establish yet another rabbinic prohibition. What, this rabbinic prohibition is better than the labor not needed for its own sake that I would have violated anyway? I would also have violated this rabbinic prohibition in order to save all my property, so what did you accomplish? They wanted to claim that here we are telling you how it is correct to decide, not that we are placing another weight that tips the prohibition standing opposite it or the interest standing opposite it. The same thing, I say, with “and live by them.” “And live by them” is a rule of decision. It is not something that comes to place a weight against the obligation to observe the Sabbath and tip that weight. Rather, it is the rule of decision itself. No, but “and live by them” plainly isn’t even a rule of decision. It’s a characterization of the commandments. The commandments were given so that you should live, so where that doesn’t apply, it isn’t a commandment. And from there we learn the rule of decision. That’s how we learn from this verse the rule of decision. Yes, but it’s not a rule of decision; it’s a rule that prevents conflicts. It basically says the commandment was given only where it does not lead to death. You are already reading it as “permitted,” and that is not so simple. Not everyone agrees that it is a case of “permitted.” No, from you I heard the conceptual analysis of “permitted” and “overridden.” Yes, but conceptually, philosophically, it’s not the same thing. There’s no practical difference. By the way, someone on my site some time ago showed me a possible practical difference. I need to remember what he said—I don’t recall. Ah, where you can make preparations before the Sabbath so as not to enter this situation. You won’t need to get into a situation of Sabbath desecration. If it is “permitted,” his claim was that in his view there is also no reason to make those preparations. If it is “overridden,” I’m not sure about that by the way, but that was what was said. Not sure, but there is the Gemara in tractate Shabbat, chapter eight—not chapter eight, chapter nineteen—regarding circumcision, yes. Whether the tools for circumcision really must be prepared before the Sabbath, and if not, doesn’t that depend on the question of overridden? Who says? That’s the question. No, I think they explain it both ways without going into it too much. I think perhaps it can be explained both ways, but it’s an interesting practical distinction because it could be a real one. Ah, in the category of “there could be practical differences.” No, the other things, in my opinion, don’t make much sense at all. Here I can accept it—meaning it doesn’t have to be so, but there is logic to it, and in that context that is the novelty for me.

Anyway, my claim is that even with “and live by them”—true, we learn it, after all the verse just says “and live by them,” it doesn’t say anything explicit. How do we know it is a rule of decision? We know it from this interpretation: that you are commanded to live by the commandments and not die by them. Consequently, it tells you what to do in conflicts of this kind. But in practice, after I have made that interpretation, this verse comes to teach me what to do in a conflict. It does not come to tell me some other interpretation. Not as you say, that “and live by them” says that in a conflict one should decide this way, but rather that no—this is a general limitation on all the commandments of the Torah, like “its ways are ways of pleasantness.” It teaches me something general about all the commandments, so it doesn’t mean a conflict will be created, because commandments are something that gives life. Correct, but that is the decision of “permitted,” what we heard earlier—what difference does it make? But the decision is a decision of “permitted”; it is permitted in a case of life-saving. No, it’s not a decision. It characterizes the commandments in such a way that a conflict cannot arise—that’s how I see it. I am in a conflict before I saw “and live by them,” right? On that you agree. Because you hadn’t understood the commandment of Sabbath observance. And the verse “and live by them” tells me that this conflict is decided, or does not exist, however you want to put it—it doesn’t matter. But in the end it comes to resolve the conflict. It can resolve it by telling me: listen, this is a pseudo-conflict; it stems from a mistake you made. But it does not come to tell me there is a positive commandment to live and that this positive commandment overrides Sabbath observance. Rather, it comes to tell me what to do in the conflict. That is its novelty. Because otherwise, if it came to tell me there is a positive commandment to live, I still haven’t resolved the matter. I still have—okay, so I still have a positive commandment. Who says it overrides the Sabbath?

Okay, so let’s take three minutes, because we’re already a bit past the halfway point. Let’s take three minutes to refresh and come back. Okay, it seems there was some problem with the links. There’s some issue with the institute’s website, that’s part of the story. They just sent a message saying there are links—something, they sent the links by email. All right, let’s continue.

So now I want to enter our passage. We’ll do it relatively quickly, because basically I want to look a little at the relation between two different passages. One more sentence before I begin this discussion. We also spoke, in the passage about a partial measure, about the source brought there—“any fat, any blood”—and the idea that it is fit to be combined, and the reasoning. This interplay between the source and the reasoning always comes up on two levels. One level is the question: what would I do without the source? Where would the underlying reasoning have led me? And the second question is: once I have the source, is there reasoning alongside it? I usually said that when there is an exposition, the exposition is accompanied by reasoning, because without that I wouldn’t know what to expound. So one can ask what reasoning underlies the exposition, and one can ask what the reasoning would have been without the exposition—meaning, what would I have done without the exposition. Both of those things arise in the context of our passage, because here too one can ask, first of all, what would I do if there were no sources at all? Nothing—no reference in the Torah, no indication at all. What would I be supposed to do when there is a conflict between the value of life and commandments? You can raise considerations both ways. It’s not entirely clear to me whether there is a clear-cut answer here. An indication for this can be: what should a non-Jew do in such a situation? Because if all the novelties we find here, at least the scriptural ones, are irrelevant regarding a non-Jew, then the law regarding whether a non-Jew is obligated to give up his life or is not obligated to do so is basically an indication of what the situation is prior to the verses. Meaning, what do the verses come to change, or what do they come to add?

Now I don’t want to discuss this on my own, but simply to see from the passages themselves how the passages understood it. And on the face of it, there seem to be two passages that see it in opposite ways. So let me start with our Gemara on 82a. The Mishnah says: “A pregnant woman who smelled food is fed until her spirit returns.” A sick person is fed according to experts, doctors, and if there are no experts there, he is fed according to his own statement until he says enough. In principle one may eat when there is danger to life—that’s what matters for our purposes. So the Gemara there says as follows: The Rabbis taught: “A pregnant woman who smelled sacrificial meat or pork”—and she got some kind of frenzy, yes, a bulmus, exactly, she was seized by this bulmus—“we dip a stick in the gravy and place it on her mouth. If she calms down, good. If not, we feed her the gravy itself. If she calms down, good. If not, we feed her the fat itself.” All of this, of course, is levels of the prohibition. “For there is nothing that stands in the face of danger to life except idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and bloodshed.” This baraita is what the Gemara brings in relation to the Mishnah we saw above. So all things are, in essence, overridden in the face of danger to life except the three severe transgressions.

Now the Gemara starts discussing the sources for those three things—idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and bloodshed. “From where do we know idolatry?” and so on, in a moment we’ll see. What is the Gemara’s assumption? From here it seems that the Gemara’s assumption is that the fact that the entire Torah is overridden because of danger to life is obvious and needs no source. A source is needed for why in the case of the three severe transgressions it is not overridden. So if I were reading this passage simply on its own, I would understand that the initial reasoning, before we start playing with sources, is that all Torah prohibitions are overridden before danger to life, including the three severe ones. There are three sources that teach me that in those three severe cases there is an exception; they are not overridden before danger to life. But the initial reasoning is that everything is overridden before danger to life. That is what seems to emerge from the Gemara here.

Now the Gemara brings the three sources and says: From where do we know idolatry? As it was taught: Rabbi Eliezer says, if “with all your soul” is stated, why is “with all your might” stated? If “with all your might” is stated, why is “with all your soul” stated? If there is a person whose body is dearer to him than his money, therefore it says “with all your soul.” If there is a person whose money is dearer to him than his body, therefore it says “with all your might.” So this is the source for idolatry. Forbidden sexual relations—they of course all tie this to sanctification of God’s name. “With all your soul” and “with all your might,” meaning because of sanctification of God’s name. We’ll return to that remark later. From where do we know forbidden sexual relations and bloodshed? As it was taught: Rabbi says, “For as when a man rises against his fellow and murders him, so is this matter.” Now what do we learn from a murderer regarding a betrothed maiden? Rather, this comes to teach and is found to learn. Just as a betrothed maiden may be saved at the cost of his life, so too a murderer may be stopped at the cost of his life. Just as a murderer must be killed rather than transgress, so too a betrothed maiden must be killed rather than transgress. We’ll still discuss, I hope, the relation between a murderer and a betrothed maiden—who is the source and who is derived, who teaches and who is taught here. It’s very unclear. There are actually two different laws here as well: the law of a pursuer and the law of being killed rather than transgressing. Both are learned from the same context. It’s just not clear in each of them who is the source and who is derived—whether from the maiden to the murderer or from the murderer to the maiden. We’ll still discuss that.

In any case, that is how it is learned. And with murder itself, from where do we know it? It is reasoning. There was a man who came before Rava and said to him: The master of my town told me, Go kill so-and-so, and if not, I’ll kill you. He said to him: Let him kill you, but do not kill. What makes you think your blood is redder? Perhaps that man’s blood is redder. This is learned by reasoning: your blood is not redder than the other person’s, therefore you may not kill him in order to save yourself.

In any case, what comes out of this passage is that sources are needed in order to tell me that something is not overridden before danger to life. Meaning, the initial assumption, at least as the passage appears, is that were it not for the sources, everything would be overridden before danger to life. Only the sources regarding these three things stop me. One is reasoning, one is a verse, one is sanctification of God’s name—it doesn’t matter—but those are the three sources. That is on one side.

On the other hand, in the passage on 85b: The Rabbis taught: Rabbi Yishmael, Rabbi Akiva, and Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah were walking on the road, and Levi the Sadar and Rabbi Yishmael the son of Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah were walking behind them. This question was asked before them: From where do we know that danger to life overrides the Sabbath? Of course not only the Sabbath; the point is all prohibitions. Rabbi Yishmael answered and said: If with regard to a burglar breaking in—where there is a doubt whether he comes over money or whether he comes over life, and bloodshed defiles the land and causes the Divine Presence to depart from Israel—yet he may be saved at the cost of his life, then all the more so danger to life overrides the Sabbath. In short, one could go into each source, but I won’t go into the details. Rabbi Akiva said: “If a man acts presumptuously against his fellow, from My altar you shall take him to die,” and so on. Rabbi Elazar answered and said: What circumcision, which is one of the two hundred and forty-eight limbs… Rabbi Yosei son of Rabbi Yehuda says: “You shall keep My Sabbaths”—could that mean always? Rather, it distinguishes, that sometimes one does not keep the Sabbath but desecrates it. Rabbi Yonatan ben Yosef said: “For it is holy to you”—it is given into your hands and you are not given into its hands. These are five early tannaitic sources.

Now come two sources that in the end seemingly remain even in the conclusion. Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya, still a tanna, says: “And the children of Israel shall keep the Sabbath”—the Torah said: desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths. Rav Yehuda said in the name of Shmuel: If I had been there—he is an amora—and if I had been there in that discussion among the tannaim, I would have said that mine is better than theirs: “And live by them,” and not die by them. Then the Gemara makes a tzrikhuta, asking why all the sources are needed, or what is wrong with each source, what is better about Shmuel’s source than theirs. In the end Rava said: all of them have a refutation except for Shmuel’s, which has no refutation. With Rabbi Yishmael—perhaps it is as Rava said, that the reason for the burglar, not important now—there are various refutations. And then in the end, after bringing the specific refutations, it says: We have found certainty—where do we know uncertainty? And for all of them we have found certainty—where do we know uncertainty? Regarding all the sources brought up to this point, one can object that these sources teach only that definite danger to life overrides the Sabbath, but they do not teach that uncertain danger to life overrides the Sabbath. And the Gemara says: But with Shmuel there is certainly no refutation. Except for Shmuel, whose source—“and live by them” and not die by them—also permits even in a case of uncertain danger to life. That is how the Gemara understands it. One can discuss why, but that is how the Gemara understands it, and therefore it praises Shmuel’s source.

Now there are a few points here. First, in this Gemara it seems the opposite of our Gemara. In this Gemara it seems that the simple assumption is that if not for the sources, danger to life would not override the Sabbath. Different sources are needed—whatever they may be—to say that it does. Again, not only the Sabbath but all prohibitions. The fact is that the sources do not deal only with the Sabbath, but with overriding prohibitions. From here it seems the opposite of what appears in our passage. In our passage it seemed that the default is that the value of life prevails, except for the three severe transgressions. In this passage it seems that the default is that the value of life is overridden before every prohibition, and only after we brought sources is it not. Sources are needed in order to say that it is not.

But this matter is not so simple. Why? First of all, from the passage itself. I’ll make two comments on the passage. First, the Gemara says that with all the sources they bring—well, before that, the wording of the question: “From where do we know that danger to life overrides the Sabbath?” The Gemara does not ask, “What about danger to life against the Sabbath?” That is not the wording. It is clear to the Gemara that danger to life overrides the Sabbath; it is only asking for the source. So that already is a warning sign about what I said earlier, because as if it were clear to the Gemara even without sources. True, that does not erase everything I said before, because if it were really clear by reasoning, then why bring “from where do we know”? The reasoning says it—period. Why do I need sources? The reasoning says it, and that’s enough. One could say that this is just to magnify Torah and glorify it: really I know it by reasoning, but let’s see whether we can also find a source. The Gemara says yes, we find a source, or no, we don’t, and so on.

A bit of support for this: the Gemara says that for all the sources except Shmuel’s there is a refutation in that they teach definite danger to life but not uncertain danger to life. Now we asked: so what? Definite danger to life overrides, uncertain danger to life does not. Why is that a refutation? The Gemara knew in advance the bottom line. The Gemara knew that definite danger to life overrides the Sabbath and that uncertain danger to life also overrides the Sabbath. And if it is looking for sources, then sources that do not give what it wants are no good; that is the refutation. Meaning, this law here—the Gemara is not really discussing the sources from which we derive the law. We knew this law already beforehand. This is an exegetical support, not an exegetical creation. Because otherwise there would be no refutation based on the fact that we do not find uncertainty. We do not find uncertainty—then uncertain danger to life does not override. That supports what I said before: that in essence we knew in advance that danger to life overrides the Sabbath, perhaps even by reasoning. And we also knew that uncertain danger to life overrides the Sabbath, but still we are looking for some source, to magnify Torah and glorify it or something like that. So in essence the exposition is supportive, not creative.

But even when I speak of a supportive exposition, it is not so simple that the initial state is a product of reasoning. There is supportive exposition—HaNetziv, in his introduction called Kedmat HaEmek, expands on this at length, in his introduction to his commentary on the She’iltot, Emek She’elah. The introduction is very long and is called Kedmat HaEmek. And there, among other things, he talks about this, and he says there, for example, regarding the expression gemara gemir la. According to Rashi, everywhere the Gemara says gemara gemir la, Rashi says it means a law to Moses from Sinai. Gemara gemir la means this is a tradition, a law to Moses from Sinai. But in Maimonides, HaNetziv proves, gemara gemir la means an ancient tradition, not necessarily a law to Moses from Sinai. What does ancient tradition mean? It means that sages in some earlier generation derived this law, whether from exposition, from reasoning, whatever—reasoning or tradition from Sinai, I don’t know. I remember the law, I know that this is the law, but I do not know what the source was from which they derived it. Then a discussion begins that searches for an exposition or source that will ground that law which came to me by tradition.

But notice: this discussion is trying to reconstruct what the earlier generations did. It is not an exegetical support. In essence it is an exegetical creation, not an exegetical support. Because it’s just that I don’t remember how the sages created the law when they created it, so I’m trying to search on my own. But that does not mean this law is based on reasoning, nor that it is a law to Moses from Sinai. It is a law created by an earlier generation, and I don’t know from where it was created, so I try to reconstruct how it was created and from where. The same thing I say here. It could be that the sages understood, knew, that the law is that danger to life overrides the Sabbath. But that does not mean it is a law to Moses from Sinai, and it also does not mean that it is reasoning. It only means the law is known. And now we are searching for the source the earlier sages used when they derived this law. And since I know that they derived a law that even uncertain danger to life overrides the Sabbath, then any source that will not give me that even uncertainty overrides the Sabbath was probably not their source.

And then it follows that in this Gemara it does not necessarily emerge that the reasoning says danger to life overrides the Sabbath. It is entirely possible that a source is needed. That is even the more plausible way to learn it. Otherwise this really is just some dialectic for the sake of glorifying Torah. Otherwise, what does “from where do we know” mean? If it follows from reasoning, then I have the reasoning. Why do I need all these biblical gymnastics and distinctions and “mine is better than theirs” and things like that? It’s just playing games. Therefore it is more plausible—again, not necessary, but more plausible—to say that it does not follow from reasoning. It follows from verses. And from the standpoint of reasoning I would indeed say that danger to life does not override the Sabbath, even definite danger to life, not only uncertain. And the verses come to tell me that nonetheless it does.

If that is really so, then the conclusion comes out opposite to what comes out of our passage. Because in our passage the underlying assumption is that danger to life overrides everything, except for the three severe transgressions for which I have a special source. And that passage assumes danger to life overrides nothing; only because there is a source does it override. That can now also affect, for example, what I said earlier—the practical difference would be what happens with a non-Jew. Regarding a non-Jew, none of these sources were said, nor the three severe transgressions, nor any such thing. So the question is what should a non-Jew do with respect to commandments relevant to him? In a case where he needs to give up his life in order not to violate a prohibition, must he give up his life or not? Any prohibition, not specifically the three severe ones.

According to what emerges from our passage, it seems not, because the simple reasoning says that the value of life overrides everything, and the three severe transgressions are a novelty that was introduced regarding Israel, not regarding a non-Jew. So for the non-Jew the ordinary reasoning remains, that he is not supposed to give up his life for anything. According to the passage on 85b, the opposite emerges: only by force of the source do we say that danger to life overrides the Sabbath and overrides prohibitions. Without a source—and for a non-Jew there are no sources—then he would have to give up his life for everything.

And indeed the Gemara in Sanhedrin 74a asks: what about a non-Jew with regard to sanctification of God’s name? What about a Noahide with regard to sanctification of God’s name? And the medieval authorities understand that the meaning is: must he give up his life precisely in such a case, where the prohibition requires self-sacrifice? That is what “what about sanctification of God’s name” means there. Ostensibly, the question of the Gemara there in Sanhedrin is really the question of which of the two passages we are speaking about is the primary one. Which of these passages is the halakhic one? And there is a practical difference regarding a non-Jew, for example. There will be other practical differences too, but there is one regarding a non-Jew.

Another remark somewhat connected to the introduction I gave earlier: ostensibly the two sources that remain, as I said when I read the Gemara, remain in the conclusion and are not rejected—Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya and Shmuel. Now you’ll say: but Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya was rejected, because it says he does not bring the law of uncertainty, only the law of certainty. So first of all, that does not reject him. It only says he is a source for definite danger to life; only Shmuel is a source for uncertain danger to life. That does not mean his source is not good for definite danger to life.

And indeed, in tractate Shabbat 151, the Gemara discusses a one-day-old infant. Does one desecrate the Sabbath for him? After all, he doesn’t keep commandments. He doesn’t yet keep many Sabbaths. Well, keeping many Sabbaths is itself a discussion—he will keep many Sabbaths, but he doesn’t “live by them”; at the moment he does not keep the commandments. And the Gemara there indeed says that one desecrates the Sabbath in order to save a one-day-old child because “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.” That is the source it brings. It says it almost in passing; it doesn’t discuss which source is relevant, but the source it brings is “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.”

Some later authorities explain that this is not accidental, because the verse “and live by them” probably does not apply to a minor. A minor does not “live by them”; he does not observe commandments. But it is true that you will gain many Sabbaths that he will observe in the future if you desecrate one Sabbath for him now. Therefore, regarding a minor, the obligation—or permission, or obligation—to desecrate the Sabbath in order to save him comes from Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya and not from Shmuel. By the way, that’s interesting, because that is a refutation of Shmuel. The Gemara could have brought that as a refutation of Shmuel while leaving Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya standing. In any case, we see in the Gemara that Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya’s source really is brought as law; it is not rejected.

An interesting question is what happens with uncertain danger to life for a one-day-old minor. According to those later authorities, one would not desecrate the Sabbath for that. Because from the standpoint of “and live by them” it does not apply to a one-day-old minor, and “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” does not apply in a case of uncertainty, as our Gemara says. So in a case of uncertain danger to life for a one-day-old minor, according to that reading it would seem that one should not desecrate the Sabbath. I don’t know how many halakhic decisors would actually say such a thing.

But in any case, what I want to say is that these two sources, both Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya’s and Shmuel’s, are apparently not contradictory. The fact is that both are brought as law. And on second look, when we examine them, it seems that they do contradict each other, exactly in the context we discussed earlier. Why? Because when Shmuel says “and live by them,” as Binyamin said earlier—how do we learn from “and live by them” what Shmuel says? “And live by them” means you have to live in the observance of the commandments. If observance of the commandments requires you not to live—to die—then no, then you do not have to observe the commandments. That is not what is required of you in order to observe commandments. Okay? That basically means that it is clear the value of life stands above the value of commandments. Where the value of commandments clashes with the value of life, the commandments were not said. By contrast, in Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya it seems to say exactly the opposite. The whole reason I desecrate the Sabbath for him is not because the value of life overrides Sabbath observance, but because I gain many Sabbaths that he will observe if I save his life; he will keep many Sabbaths. Then it turns out that the value of life is a means to observance of Sabbaths. And that is really the exact opposite line of thought from Shmuel. But if so, then how can the halakhic decisors bring both of these sources together?

Look, for example, at the Biur Halakhah on 329, paragraph 4. There it deals with saving a temporary life, a very short time of life. And with saving a temporary life, the problem that arises is that he will not keep many Sabbaths even if you desecrate the Sabbath and save him. He will live one more day, two more days, not until the next Sabbath. He will not keep many Sabbaths. May one desecrate the Sabbath in order to save a temporary life? So the Biur Halakhah says: even though here the reason “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” does not apply, because it is not specifically Sabbath; the same applies to other commandments, as the Meiri wrote in Yoma, and this is his language: although it has become clear that he cannot live even one hour, because in that hour he will repent in his heart and confess. End quote. What is he saying? “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” does not mean specifically many Sabbath observances. It means he will fulfill additional commandments. Okay? For example, he will repent, he will confess. For that, one short hour is enough. He does not have to make it to the next Sabbath. Therefore the Meiri argues, and the Biur Halakhah says following the Meiri, that one therefore saves a person with only temporary life left, despite the fact that the logic of “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” does not literally apply.

However, says the Biur Halakhah, in truth it seems that all this is only as a reason, but legally it does not depend on commandments at all. For the reason we override one commandment is not because we are trading one commandment for many commandments, but similarly for all commandments for the sake of the life of a Jew, as Shmuel derives it from “and live by them,” and as Maimonides wrote in chapter 2 of the laws of Sabbath, that the laws of the Torah are not vengeance in the world but mercy and kindness and peace in the world. And likewise, according to all those tannaim who derive it from the altar and from circumcision and from the burglar, it is clear that the Merciful One cares about the life of a person—except for the one who says “desecrate one Sabbath.” What does he understand? He understands that all the tannaim and Shmuel disagree with Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya. He understands, as I described earlier, that according to them life is not a means to Sabbath observance. Rather, according to them life is a value in itself that overrides the value of Sabbath observance or other commandments and prohibitions. According to Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya, indeed, the value of life is only a means to observing the Sabbath. Therefore he says: so why are you stopping? Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya is just giving a reason; that is not the law. We don’t need him at all. Here, temporary life is saved because the value of life is such that even temporary life overrides prohibitions. So I don’t care now whether he will confess, whether he’ll fulfill other commandments, whether he’ll make it to the next Sabbath or not—what difference does it make? That is the claim of the Biur Halakhah.

Meaning, the Biur Halakhah understood the dispute between these formulations literally. But the Meiri assumes not so. The Meiri assumes that “desecrate one Sabbath” remains a reason in the law and does not contradict “and live by them”; both remain in the law. How can that be understood?

I’ll do this briefly because our time is running out. I say as follows. In the end, as I said in the introduction, we have a problem of incommensurability. Basically I have two values: the value of life and Sabbath observance, or a prohibition, or whatever. There is no way to measure them against each other. And since that is so, there is a problem: how can I determine which one prevails if I have no source? Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya does not accept all the sources—“and live by them,” the other tannaitic sources—so what does he do? Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya performs a brilliant move. What does he say? He says: let’s bypass the need to construct a value-scale. That is really what we want—to build a value-scale: does the value of life stand higher than the value of the Sabbath or the various prohibitions, or lower? Okay? Shmuel, for example, says it stands higher. But Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya doesn’t accept that. He says: let’s bypass the need to construct a value-scale. How? Simple.

If I desecrate the Sabbath now—let’s make a profit-and-loss calculation—I either desecrate the Sabbath now and save his life, or I don’t. Let’s see the profit and loss in each option. If I desecrate the Sabbath now, then I lost this Sabbath—I desecrated it—but I gained many Sabbaths and I also gained the life. So my profit is life plus N minus one Sabbaths. N Sabbaths is how many Sabbaths he has left to live. One Sabbath I desecrated. Yes, of course the calculation is very crude, but I’m only illustrating the idea: life plus N minus one Sabbaths. If I did not desecrate the Sabbath, then I lost the life and gained no Sabbaths, but also didn’t lose any Sabbaths—zero. Now I ask: which is greater, X plus N minus one times Y, or zero? When X and Y are both positive and N is greater than one, for any X and Y it is always worthwhile to desecrate the Sabbath. You do not need to rank X against Y, the value of life against the value of the Sabbath. Even if the value of life is lower than the value of the Sabbath, it is still worthwhile to desecrate the Sabbath because you gain many Sabbaths. So you gained eight Sabbaths, say—nine total Sabbaths he will live, one you lost, eight you gained, plus the small value of life. That will always be greater.

And what about the assumption that N is greater than one? Yes, I said N greater than one. No, but then this matter of temporary life doesn’t… So that’s why the Meiri needed to say that it is not only Sabbaths but all the commandments, not specifically Sabbaths, in order to gain that N. Then N turns from weeks into moments. Okay? But on the principled level, let’s talk for the moment about Sabbaths—that is the claim. The claim is basically that Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya does not really mean to say that the value of life lies in its being a means to keep the Sabbath. He says: I do not know how to determine the relation between the value of life and Sabbath observance. I simply don’t know. But I found a brilliant way to bypass the need for decision. I can resolve the conflict without building a value-scale, without determining whether the value of life is above the value of the Sabbath or below it.

If that is so, then there is certainly no frontal contradiction between Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya and Shmuel. Shmuel constructed a value-scale. Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya did not construct one; he did not say no. He only says: I can solve it without constructing a value-scale. If so, then the Meiri is right that there is no reason to say they disagree with one another. But it’s not exactly that he solved it, because that consideration is not a halakhic one. You are right. There are many difficulties with that consideration, because I desecrate one Sabbath and there I only gain Sabbaths that otherwise would not have been desecrated, would not have… No, not only that. In general we don’t make profit-and-loss calculations when we’re talking about Jewish law. Many times I can commit a transgression and gain several commandments elsewhere. In a meta-halakhic context, yes, we do make profit-and-loss calculations. It turns out we do. I insist that this is a meta-halakhic discussion and not a halakhic one. I’m not sure I understand the difference so well, but fine. Because I’m not talking about a positive commandment against a prohibition, or internal halakhic considerations, but about principles like “and live by them.” Generally speaking, I know the question, for example, of a person in prison who is given one day on which he can hear the Torah reading—the famous question whether to choose Rosh Hashanah or… It’s a very famous question. Or the one nearest to the present. Yes. So this is really what it stands on—whether we make calculations of… Fine, but there it really is a halakhic calculation. Here it is not exactly a halakhic calculation. It is a calculation of the value of life against the value of the Sabbath. And here there is indeed room for a consequential calculation. That is why I say it is not the same as a halakhic calculation, although there too I could argue. I could say maybe yes, specifically Rosh Hashanah, or maybe no, the closest one. Where is the source for having to choose the nearest one? In any case, I think—I just didn’t quite understand what you gained from this. In any case the considerations and reasoning do not contradict each other. Because this… the Biur Halakhah says they do. The Biur Halakhah claims that Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya sees life as a means to observing the Sabbath. True, I don’t quite understand why that proves it. Even if he did not see it as a means to observing the Sabbath, he is only pointing out that in practice… as I said. No, but we don’t need to get there… Fine, all right.

Okay, let’s stop here. We’ll continue on Sunday, God willing. Okay, goodbye.