Midrash and the Principles of Interpretation – Lesson 4

Table of Contents

• The development of the derash system and the relationship between peshat and derash
• Maimonides, Sefer HaMitzvot, and the need for roots/principles in counting the commandments
• Types of roots/principles: categorical and classificatory, and the number fourteen
• The dispute between Nachmanides and Maimonides over whether 613 is a binding number and over the value of counting the commandments
• The second root: “it is not proper to count” laws derived through the interpretive principles, and the debate over source versus validity
• Proofs from Maimonides for halakhic implications: “we do not derive a warning from logical derivation” and “we have heard the punishment—where is the warning?”
• The example of betrothal by money: “by rabbinic words” and the tension between a Torah-level law and the description of its source
• The Sefer HaChinukh’s explanation of “we have heard the punishment—where is the warning?” and comparisons to the legal world and other examples
• The ninth root, “a general prohibition,” and the double requirement: unique content and a unique verse
• Rereading the second root: productive derash versus supportive derash, and their implications for Torah-level and rabbinic law

Summary

General Overview

Up to this point, the system of derash has been presented as an alternative language for reading the Torah alongside the language of peshat, with the interpretive principles functioning as the “rules of grammar” that gradually took shape within a dynamic tradition that is a law given to Moses at Sinai. After citing Rabbi Menachem HaMeiri in the name of the Vilna Gaon, to the effect that derash is not the depth of peshat but an alternative interpretation, the discussion moves to Maimonides’ second root in Sefer HaMitzvot in order to clarify the status of laws produced through the methods of derash and the meaning of the “world of derash.” The broader context is Maimonides’ methodology for counting the commandments, meant to build a framework for writing the Mishneh Torah, while confronting earlier methods, especially that of the Baal Halakhot Gedolot, and presenting a fundamental dispute over whether derivation through the interpretive principles is rabbinic or Torah-level, and what the difference is between the question of source and the question of validity.

The Development of the Derash System and the Relationship Between Peshat and Derash

Derash is presented as an alternative language to peshat, not as a deepening of peshat, with the interpretive principles serving as the rules of that language that became established over time. The tradition regarding those principles is described as a “dynamic law given to Moses at Sinai,” so that the development of formulation and historical crystallization is meant to sharpen what was given at Sinai. Rabbi Menachem HaMeiri’s citation in the name of the Vilna Gaon serves as a basis for the view that derash runs parallel to peshat and does not emerge from it as an interpretive necessity.

Maimonides, Sefer HaMitzvot, and the Need for Roots/Principles in Counting the Commandments

Maimonides’ roots/principles are defined as counting rules whose purpose is to establish a methodology for creating a new count that does not match earlier counts, which were mainly dominated by the Baal Halakhot Gedolot and Albarceloni, and Maimonides refers to his predecessors dismissively as “poets.” A suggestion is raised that Maimonides apparently did not know Saadia Gaon’s count of the commandments, since he does not address it and repeatedly argues mainly with the Baal Halakhot Gedolot. The Mishneh Torah is described as the only code of Jewish law in history that covers all areas of Jewish law, including sacrificial law and purity law, unlike the Rif, the Rosh, the Tur, and the Shulchan Arukh, and Maimonides creates for it an original division into fourteen books that does not follow the six orders of the Mishnah.

Writing the Mishneh Torah requires a “key,” meaning categories that ensure full coverage, and Maimonides uses the commandments as chapter headings, so he first needs a count of 613. Deciding what counts as a commandment and what counts as a detail within a commandment requires rules, because an unsystematic reading could produce many thousands of “commandments.” Maimonides is described as someone who went through the literature of the Sages and the Geonim—the Babylonian Talmud, Mekhilta, Sifra, Sifrei, and more—organized mixed and tangled methods, and extracted principles that explain how counting is actually done, because the Sages themselves did not formulate such a general methodology.

Types of Roots/Principles: Categorical and Classificatory, and the Number Fourteen

The roots/principles are divided into categorical rules, which determine what counts as a Torah-level commandment included in the count and what does not, and classificatory rules, which determine how to combine details and repetitions in order to arrive at 613. The classificatory example is that the ninth root prevents us from counting a commandment that appears many times in the Torah as many commandments, as with the Sabbath, and emphasizes that what is counted is the content of the commandment, not the number of verses. Another classificatory example is that the four species are counted as one commandment rather than four commandments, even though all of them are Torah-level.

Categorical rules include excluding reasons for commandments and preparatory acts for commandments from the count, as well as the first root, which determines that rabbinic commandments are not counted, and the second root, which deals with laws derived through derashot. It is explained that Maimonides chose to formulate specifically fourteen roots because he brings only rules that contain some novelty or dispute, whereas trivial rules on which there is no disagreement are not formulated. A motif is also presented of Maimonides’ fondness for the number fourteen, with mention of Rabbi Daniel HaNagid, who attributed this to the gematria of the 248 positive commandments and the 365 prohibitions, which together equal fourteen, and to the fact that the division into fourteen books and the title Mishneh Torah / Yad HaHazakah also hint to fourteen, along with a parallel to the “thirteen principles and inclusion,” formulated as fourteen principles.

The Dispute Between Nachmanides and Maimonides Over Whether 613 Is a Binding Number and Over the Value of Counting the Commandments

In his glosses to the first root, Nachmanides argues that the source of the number 613 is an aggadic passage at the end of tractate Makkot in the name of Rabbi Simlai, and that it is not necessarily a binding number, and he asks why one should build full works devoted to counting the commandments on that basis. Nachmanides points to an implication: if the number is not binding, then there is no need to “replace” commandments when one disagrees, and one may end up with a different total. Maimonides replies in the first root that although one might have thought the number is not binding, in practice all those who count the commandments accepted the tradition, and therefore the framework of 613 should be accepted; from this follows the demand that when one item is removed from the count, another must be inserted in its place.

In the name of the Vilna Gaon, via Ma’alot HaTorah, it is brought that he had no comments on the count of the commandments because it has no halakhic practical consequence, since there are Torah-level laws that are not counted, such as half a measure being forbidden by Torah law according to Rabbi Yohanan, and beautifying a commandment—“This is my God and I will beautify Him.” Rabbi Yerucham Fishel Perla argues that the discussion of the count is in fact important, because the binding framework of 613 creates indirect halakhic consequences through the explanations for why something is counted or not counted, and an example is given from the dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides over whether with terumah there is a commandment to give it to the priest or only to separate it, where the need to remain within the number 613 pushes one toward justifications with halakhic significance. Also presented is the Baal Halakhot Gedolot’s division into positive commandments, prohibitions, and “sections” (seventy-three sections) as an interpretive mystery, alongside the general acceptance in standard counts of the division into 248 and 365.

The Second Root: “It Is Not Proper to Count” Laws Derived Through the Interpretive Principles, and the Debate Over Source Versus Validity

The second root is formulated as the rule that it is not proper to count everything learned through one of the thirteen interpretive principles or through inclusion, and the question is raised whether this is a categorical rule—the law is not Torah-level—or a classificatory one—the law is Torah-level but not a separate commandment. An example is given such as “You shall fear the Lord your God,” which includes Torah scholars, and this can be understood either as a detail included within fear of God or as a law that is not Torah-level. Nachmanides understands Maimonides in the straightforward sense, that laws derived from derash are rabbinic and therefore are not counted, and he sees this as contradicting the tradition of the Talmud, to the point of claiming that the whole book would not have been worthwhile because of this mistake, and he raises hundreds of objections with broad mastery.

The position of the Tashbetz is presented, followed by many later authorities (Acharonim), that Maimonides is not speaking about validity but about source, and that laws derived from derash are Torah-level in every respect, but they are not included in the count because only what is explicitly written is counted. The discussion raises the question why this matters if there is no halakhic practical difference, and the answer returns to the binding framework of 613, which forces decisions in the counting.

Proofs from Maimonides for Halakhic Implications: “We Do Not Derive a Warning from Logical Derivation” and “We Have Heard the Punishment—Where Is the Warning?”

The wording of Maimonides is cited from the end of the roots/introduction to the count of the commandments regarding the relationship between warning and punishment: sometimes the Torah mentions a punishment without an explicit warning, and Maimonides establishes that “Scripture does not punish unless it has first warned,” and therefore they ask, “We have heard the punishment—where is the warning?” and derive the warning by analogy. Maimonides explains that this does not contradict the rule “we do not derive a warning from logical derivation,” because when the punishment is explicitly written in the Torah, analogy is used to reinforce the principle that there is no punishment without warning, whereas where there is no explicit punishment, one does not punish on the basis of a warning derived by logic. Maimonides is presented as understanding that “we do not derive a warning from logical derivation” is not limited to a fortiori reasoning, but applies to the interpretive principles more generally, and Nachmanides objects that this goes against the Talmud.

From these remarks it emerges that Maimonides sees a practical difference in the status of a law derived through derash, because one does not punish on its basis when it stands only by the force of the derash itself, and this is presented as proof that the second root carries halakhic implications and is not merely a counting technique. It is also noted that Maimonides writes in his commentary to Mishnah Kelim, chapter 17, that a law given to Moses at Sinai is not punishable and is considered “by rabbinic words.”

The Example of Betrothal by Money: “By Rabbinic Words” and the Tension Between a Torah-Level Law and the Description of Its Source

In the laws of marriage, Maimonides rules that betrothal is a positive commandment from the Torah, that a woman is acquired by money, a document, or intercourse, but that “by money” is “by rabbinic words,” and the Raavad objects that this is an error, because money is learned by a verbal analogy. The Kesef Mishneh ties Maimonides’ wording to the second root, because money is derived by verbal analogy and is therefore called “by rabbinic words.” Later Maimonides rules that once betrothed she is a married woman, and one who has relations with her is liable to death by the religious court, without distinguishing among the methods of acquisition, and from here a proof is presented for the interpretation that “by rabbinic words” in Maimonides sometimes refers to the question of source rather than validity.

Maimonides’ wording in Sefer HaMitzvot concerning the commandment of betrothal is cited: the commandment of betrothal is carried out by giving something into the woman’s hand, by a document, or by intercourse, and the hint “when a man takes a woman and has relations with her” indicates acquisition through intercourse, while a document is learned from “and she departs and becomes,” and money is learned from “there is no money” in the case of a Hebrew maidservant; and nevertheless it is said, “Betrothal is Torah-level, but it is explicit in intercourse.” From this formulation comes the understanding that the category of Torah-level law exists at the base level, and derash adds a detail within an already existing framework, so the result can be Torah-level even if the mode of derivation is “by rabbinic words,” whereas introducing an entirely new commandment that does not already exist at its base would have a different level of validity.

The Sefer HaChinukh’s Explanation of “We Have Heard the Punishment—Where Is the Warning?” and Comparisons to the Legal World and Other Examples

In Sefer HaChinukh, commandment 69, the prohibition “You shall not curse God” is brought as referring to judges, and because of the wording “God,” it also includes a warning against blaspheming the Divine Name, while the punishment is learned from “whoever pronounces the Name of the Lord shall surely be put to death,” and the warning comes from the derash. Sefer HaChinukh explains that if only the punishment had been written without an explicit prohibition, one might have understood that the act was a kind of “permission” for whoever was willing to pay the price, as if it were a transaction, and therefore a warning is needed to clarify that this runs against the will of God. The Minchat Chinukh’s suggestion is brought regarding one who suppresses his prophecy, as a possible case of punishment without warning in the model of a “transaction,” with proof from Jonah the prophet, and also the initial assumption at the beginning of tractate Temurah regarding a true oath, where a person would swear and be flogged; and in the end it is emphasized that this is not how commandments are to be understood, and that “there is no punishment unless there was first a warning.”

A comparison is added to criminal law in the State of Israel, which tends to formulate punishments more than it formulates explicit “prohibitions,” with mention of interpretations that try to distinguish between instructions to the authorities and restrictions on the citizen, whereas in the Torah punishment alone does not create a prohibition without a warning. From this, an analysis is suggested that every commandment or transgression contains two dimensions: rebellion against the command on the one hand, and the essence of the act on the other; and both dimensions are hinted at in the need for both command/warning and the content of the act.

The Ninth Root, “A General Prohibition,” and the Double Requirement: Unique Content and a Unique Verse

The ninth root is presented as divided into two parts: we count the “matters” rather than the multiplicity of verses, but also, when there is a single verse that includes many matters—“a general prohibition”—we count the one prohibition rather than each and every matter. The list of derashot on “Do not eat over the blood” is brought, including eating from a limb of a living animal before its soul departs, eating sacrificial items before the sprinkling of the blood, the meal of consolation for those executed by the religious court, the practice concerning a Sanhedrin that executed, a warning for the stubborn and rebellious son, and the prohibition against tasting anything before prayer. Rabbi Yerucham Fishel Perla’s question about the apparent contradiction between counting according to content and counting according to verse is resolved with the suggestion that for a commandment to be counted, two requirements are needed together: unique content and a unique command/verse; in the absence of either one, no separate commandment is counted.

This double requirement is explained as a continuation of the idea of the two dimensions of a commandment: the content expresses the essence of the act, and the command expresses one’s standing before the will of God, and therefore a Torah-level commandment in the literal sense is something “written in the Torah” in a way that contains both content and command. From this it is argued that Maimonides understands “Torah-level” as something explicitly written in the Torah, and therefore something that emerges from derash may receive a different status.

Rereading the Second Root: Productive Derash Versus Supportive Derash, and Their Implications for Torah-Level and Rabbinic Law

A reading of Maimonides’ language in the second root emphasizes a distinction between a law that emerges from derash and is subject to dispute, and “interpretations accepted from Moses” about which there is no dispute, though proof is brought for them through one of the thirteen interpretive principles. Maimonides states that not everything the Sages derived by analogy was said to Moses at Sinai, but also that not everything supported by an interpretive principle is rabbinic, because sometimes it is an accepted interpretation that they attach to the written text. From here a distinction is built between productive derash, which is not from Sinai and is rabbinic and therefore not counted, and supportive derash, which is based on a tradition from Sinai and the derash merely anchors it, and that is Torah-level and even enters the count of the commandments.

Nachmanides’ objection is brought: according to Maimonides, how can it be that tradition by itself—a law given to Moses at Sinai—does not create Torah-level status because it has no anchor in the written text, and derash by itself also does not, but the combination of tradition and derash does create Torah-level status? The question is formulated as the difficulty of “how can zero plus zero equal one.” The conclusion says that understanding this mechanism will be explained later, and it is presented as a foundation for understanding the Oral Torah.

Okay. Up to now we’ve been dealing with the development of the system of interpretation. I spoke about the meaning of tradition with respect to the interpretive principles, about a dynamic tradition, which basically identified these as some sort of principles—not really principles at all, but rather a kind of language, one kind of language or another, an alternative language for reading the Torah. There is the language of the plain meaning, and there is the language of interpretation. I said that slowly, gradually, the grammar rules of that language took shape, and that is basically the interpretive principles. And we spoke about the dispute between the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and the researchers: is this a halakha given to Moses at Sinai, or did it develop over time? And I said that it is a dynamic halakha given to Moses at Sinai. Meaning, the development over time was ultimately just an attempt to formulate what we received at Mount Sinai. So all of that was really a kind of introduction, and yes, I also spoke about the relationship between the plain meaning and interpretation, the parallels, that interpretation is not the deeper layer of the plain meaning but rather an alternative interpretation. In Rabbi Menachem Meiri we saw the things he brings in the name of the Vilna Gaon. What I want to do now is begin getting into Maimonides’ words in the second root, where he discusses the status of the methods of interpretation, or of the Jewish laws that are created through those methods of interpretation. And I want to use that in order to further decode the meaning of the whole world of interpretation. After that we’ll move on to the interpretive principles themselves—how it works, what they mean, how that logic is structured, and so on. So I’m starting with the second root. I’ll open it, I’ll share it here on the screen. Okay, first of all, one sentence about the roots: the roots of Maimonides, which I already mentioned, are the rules for counting the commandments. How do you get to the 613 commandments, the 248 and the 365? Maimonides is basically trying to establish here a methodology for counting the commandments, as he is striving, in effect, to create a new count that does not match the counts that preceded him, which were mainly dominated by the Halakhot Gedolot and Al-Bartziloni and some medieval authorities (Rishonim) whom Maimonides calls “liturgical poets,” a little dismissively. Fine—they didn’t treat them too seriously, these are poets. Rav Saadia Gaon, for example, was apparently not just some poet, but for some reason Maimonides ignores him, and I doubt whether he even knew Rav Saadia Gaon’s count of the commandments. I’m not sure Maimonides knew it at all. There was once some discussion about this with Rabbi Sabato—he also wrote about it, I think—the question whether Maimonides knew Rav Saadia Gaon’s count of the commandments. In any case, I don’t know, but I don’t deal with it that much, so the fact that I don’t know doesn’t mean much. As far as the count of the commandments goes, I’m very inclined to think that he did not know Rav Saadia Gaon, because if he had known Rav Saadia Gaon he would have referred to him. He refers only to the Halakhot Gedolot. And throughout the roots, whenever he goes against someone, it’s always the Halakhot Gedolot. It somehow seems that Rav Saadia Gaon just wasn’t known to him here, wasn’t even on his radar, I think. I don’t think he would have spoken dismissively of poets if one of them had been Rav Saadia Gaon. I don’t think so. Fine, I don’t know. In any case, in the fourteen—yes, to understand the context: when Maimonides came to write the Mishneh Torah—he describes this in his introductions—he came to write the Mishneh Torah. Now the Mishneh Torah, basically, its role is to serve as a complete code of Jewish law, the only one, by the way, in history, from the giving of the Torah until our own day. The only complete code of Jewish law in history is Maimonides, Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. Because all the other compilations are not codes. Maimonides, on the one hand, organizes it by laws, not as give-and-take like the Talmud. On the other hand, he covers all areas of Jewish law, not only what is practiced nowadays like Rif and Rosh, or not only certain areas like the Shulchan Arukh and the Tur as well, but all areas of Jewish law, including sacrificial law, purity, everything. And he covers it and goes through it, doing so on the basis of all the sources that preceded him. Meaning, he genuinely tries to summarize everything that had reached him. It’s a crazy piece of work. Codifications of this kind that were done, say, in other legal systems—the Ottomans had an impressive codification, and I heard, I don’t know firsthand, but I heard that in Egypt too there was some very serious jurist who produced a codification—but in Western countries, when they do a codification like this, they seat teams of dozens of experts over decades. Maimonides, alongside his work as a physician and philosopher and everything else, somehow in hours that were neither of the day nor of the night, produced this insane achievement. And you have to understand that he didn’t just write the Mishneh Torah off the top of his head; he did systematic work, an orderly methodology, until he arrived at the Mishneh Torah. And how was this done? In order to write the Mishneh Torah, first of all you need some kind of index, some kind of structure—how do you organize this book? Now, the six orders of the Mishnah are a kind of division into subjects, orders and tractates, but Maimonides does not follow the six orders. Maimonides invented a new division of fourteen books, each of them divided into collections of laws, divided into chapters, and so on. So this is a new division. How do you approach that? How do you know you covered everything? How do you know you didn’t miss anything? So Maimonides first had to build the main headings. How do you divide the Mishneh Torah, all of Jewish law? Why? What are the categories by which you divide Jewish law? For that he needed to count commandments. Okay, a number—we have 613 commandments, let’s see. The commandments are perhaps the most appropriate main headings for dividing the Mishneh Torah according to the commandments. Now, you can gather a number of commandments into one book dealing with the laws of Passover, so all the commandments of Passover will be there. But if you gathered all the commandments, then you know you didn’t miss anything. Okay, so the commandments have to be divided somehow. Those he divided into fourteen books. But collecting the commandments is also no simple matter. If you go through the Torah and try to extract commandments from it, you can get to five thousand as well—or at least, depending on how you divide things, how you count, what counts as a commandment and what does not. How do you divide the 613 commandments? Okay, so Maimonides says: fine, for this—I need the commandments in order to build the Mishneh Torah, but for that I need rules for how commandments are counted. And he goes backward and builds rules that will help him build the Book of the Commandments, which will help him write the Mishneh Torah. That is basically the point. Now, how do you find the rules for counting the commandments? You have to go through all the literature of the Sages and the Geonim and everyone who came before him—the Babylonian Talmud, the Mekhilta, Sifra, Sifrei, and all the works that preceded him—collect from them how they understood the commandments, organize that into some system, because of course there are many different methods mixed together there, organize it, and from that derive the rules for determining the 613 commandments, rules that do not explicitly appear there. The rules do not appear in the literature of the Sages. The Sages did not work by way of rules and an orderly methodology the way Maimonides did. It’s a crazy piece of work. Maimonides therefore wrote his commentary on the Mishnah. He also apparently wrote a commentary on the Talmud, of which we only have two or three tractates. There is a commentary of Maimonides on Rosh Hashanah and one or two more tractates, but it is pretty clear that he probably went through the entire literature that preceded him. From that he extracted rules and a count of the commandments, then built all the halakhic categories that are the skeleton of the Mishneh Torah, and then began filling in under each such category everything he had collected from all the sources. To do this in an orderly way while constantly reflecting on your own process—how am I working, what is my method, what are the rules by which I am working, what is included and what is not—that’s a crazy undertaking. It’s hard to understand at all how a person managed to do such a thing. It’s really hard to believe, alongside all his other pursuits. It’s an impossible personality. But that’s exactly it. When I say “alongside other things,” I don’t care whether “alongside” means that on the same day you also did this and that, or whether you took ten years for this but in the rest of your years you did a lot of other things. Alongside can be over time or in parallel, it doesn’t matter, but he managed to do many other things in life. So this really is an insane undertaking, you need to understand. No one did this throughout history. And it’s not just that no one did it—I don’t know who could do such a thing. You really need to understand the significance of this man; it’s astonishing. In any case, the rules for counting the commandments are the fourteen roots. Maimonides generally likes the number fourteen. Yes, one of his descendants, Rabbi Daniel the Nagid, writes that this is because 248 and 365 each equal fourteen in gematria. 248 equals fourteen in gematria, and 365 also equals fourteen. Maimonides, for example, has fourteen roots, he has fourteen books in the Mishneh Torah, “Yad” is fourteen. Yes, he has fourteen interpretive principles, as we’ll soon see—the thirteen of Rabbi Ishmael plus inclusion. Fourteen interpretive principles. He has many, many things—he likes fourteen, I don’t know exactly why. In any case, he set out fourteen roots. These roots basically tell us how we arrange the 613 commandments. Now, there are different kinds of roots. There are roots that deal with the question of what counts as Torah-level and what counts as rabbinic, what can be included in the count of commandments and what cannot; if something is not a commandment, it will not be included. Most of the roots are not of this type. Most of the roots are classificatory roots. That is, or I don’t know if most, but a large part of the roots are classificatory roots. What does that mean? There is a given thing that is Torah-level, but it will not be a separate commandment in the count because it is a detail within another commandment; it cannot be a commandment on its own. For example, the four species are one commandment, not four commandments. That’s not because the citron is not Torah-level, or the willow; everything is Torah-level, but in order to divide them so as to arrive at 613, it’s not enough to decide what is Torah-level and what is not. You also have to decide what counts as one commandment, what counts as two commandments, what is not a commandment at all. So there are roots that are classificatory roots and roots that are categorical roots. What counts as a Torah-level commandment and what does not count as a Torah-level commandment. After that, you also have to classify the commandments and see how I get to 613. Now, the categorical roots, for example: there is a root that speaks about the reasons for the commandments. The reasons for the commandments are not counted, because that is not a commandment. Or means, instrumental preparations for a commandment, are not counted because they are not the commandment itself. The first root: rabbinic commandments are not counted because they are not Torah-level commandments. They are binding, but not Torah-level commandments. The second root, which we’re going to deal with now, is a root that says that laws learned from interpretations are not commandments, because they are apparently not Torah-level. So all these are roots that are categorical roots, not classificatory roots. Classificatory roots are, for example, the ninth root. The ninth root says that if a commandment repeats itself several times in the Torah, you count it once. You do not count twelve commandments to observe the Sabbath, even though it appears in the Torah twelve times. So that’s classification. Or details within a commandment are all counted together as one commandment and not each detail as a separate commandment—that too is a classificatory root. And so on. He has several roots like that, or commandments that apply every day—you obviously don’t count every day as a separate commandment. You count one commandment that applies on days when you are obligated in it, every day or whatever, or on these days or those days; not every day or every moment is a separate commandment. That too is a root in Maimonides. He has several roots like this that are trying to bring us to the number 613. Now, where does he derive these roots from? Or how did he determine the roots themselves? That’s a question. You make the roots in order to determine the commandments, the commandments in order to write the roots—how do you determine them? It’s a very difficult question, because nobody did this before him. People counted commandments before him, but nobody defined how he arrived at his count except Maimonides. And it’s not simple work, and Nachmanides comments on this several times in his glosses, because the Sages did not deal with this. So where do you derive it from? You don’t derive it from the Sages, so where from? Do you just make it up? So you try, from what the Sages actually did, to understand what principles guided them. Now Maimonides probably had more than fourteen rules, but apparently the principle underlying his fourteen rules was two demands. One demand was that there be some novelty in it, not just trivial things. And the second principle—even if there is no novelty, if it was disputed, then he would bring it as well. There are several roots where he writes that really there is nothing novel here; I’m only bringing it because I saw that some of my predecessors disputed it. Now, if there are principles that have no novelty and nobody disputed them either, then Maimonides apparently won’t bring them, even though he had more such principles. Therefore the fourteen roots are not necessarily all of Maimonides’ rules; they are those rules that he found worth formulating because they contain novelty, because there is dispute, or because he had to take a position and justify it. In the roots, what he does is justify the rules, explain the rules, justify them, and prove them. Therefore the roots are not the rules; the roots are the justification for the rules. The fourteen rules appear at the head of each root—the rule itself appears there. If you want the fourteen rules, you don’t need the whole work of the roots; you can just write the headings of each root and you have fourteen rules. The root itself always comes to explain—to explain the principle at its head and to prove it, or to argue with someone who does not accept it. That is basically the work of the roots. Yes, so Nachmanides in his glosses on the first root really wonders about this matter: why do we assume there are 613 in the first place? There is a passage at the end of tractate Makkot, yes, that says 613 commandments were stated by the Holy One, blessed be He, to Moses at Sinai, and they derive it from the verse “Torah Moses commanded us”—“Torah” in gematria is 611, plus two that we heard from the mouth of divine power, “I am” and “You shall have no other gods,” which we heard directly from divine power; together that makes 613. Fine, but Nachmanides says that’s aggadah. On that basis are we going to build all these works of counting the commandments? There is such an aggadah; Rabbi Simlai said it. And perhaps more than that—even if it’s not aggadah, even if Rabbi Simlai said it and everyone fully agrees—Rabbi Simlai counted the commandments, he counted what he got, and it came out to 613. But if we had asked another Sage? After all, there are disputes among Sages about various commandments. It could be that he would have gotten 747 or 501. Fine—why do you think the number Rabbi Simlai says is a binding number? That everyone agrees on 613, and if they disagree then someone who removes one commandment inserts another in its place. Do you understand the implication? Because if there is no binding number 613, then I can rule not like Rabbi Simlai regarding sending away the mother bird and count only one commandment there rather than two, a prohibition and a positive commandment, and then I’ll have 612. But if I think that 613 is a binding number, then if I disagree with Rabbi Simlai about sending away the mother bird I have to find another commandment, because overall it still has to come out to 613. It is very important to know whether the number 613 is really binding, whether we have a tradition that the total count of the commandments is 613. Nachmanides argues that not, and in his glosses he is very puzzled by this. But the author of Zohar HaRakia, and Maimonides himself in the first root, says: look, true, I might have thought this number was not binding, but I see that all the counters of the commandments accepted it and there is some sort of tradition, and apparently we need to accept it; apparently there was some tradition that 613 really is the number, that everyone agrees on that number. And now, of course, arguments begin over how to get to 613, what is included. If someone disagrees, then he has to put something else in its place. Once we understand that this is the framework—incidentally, because of this reason, Rabbi Yerucham Fishel Perlow, who wrote a work on Rav Saadia Gaon’s Book of the Commandments—in the beginning he has a work on the order of the roots too, including Maimonides’ roots, whether Rav Saadia Gaon accepts them or not, and other medieval authorities (Rishonim). An amazing book, Rav Saadia Gaon’s Book of the Commandments—three huge volumes, where if you gather Rav Saadia Gaon himself it’s maybe four pages, the 613 commandments of Rav Saadia Gaon, and everything else is all that Rabbi Yerucham Perlow stuffs into it. An amazing work. Really, he was a kind of extraordinary scholar, full of knowledge and wonderful critical sense, a lovely work. In any case, he discusses there the question: why is the count of the commandments important? What’s the interest? Why is it important? Just in order to receive reward? It is well known in the name of the Vilna Gaon—his brother, in Ma’alot HaTorah, the Vilna Gaon’s brother writes, and you can see it: the Vilna Gaon has notes on everything that moves. Whatever was written, there are always notes of the Vilna Gaon on everything, except for one thing—the count of the commandments. There are none. You won’t find a note of the Vilna Gaon on the count of the commandments. Not because I’m such an expert, but because experts checked and wrote this. Nothing. He did not deal with it. Why? It has no practical implication. What difference does it make how you build your 613 commandments? Even if something is Torah-level and doesn’t enter the count of the commandments, it will apparently be a detail within another commandment or something. There are Torah-level laws that do not enter the count of the commandments for some other reason. For example, half a measure is forbidden by the Torah according to Rabbi Yohanan—that’s the dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Reish Lakish; according to Rabbi Yohanan, half a measure is forbidden by the Torah. Or beautifying a commandment, “This is my God and I will glorify Him”—in the straightforward sense that is a Torah-level law, but there is no separately counted commandment like that. So there are Torah-level laws that do not enter the count of the commandments. Therefore, saying that something is included in the count of the commandments does not say much about its force, it says nothing about it halakhically. So why bother with it? And therefore the Vilna Gaon really said: not interesting, not important, I don’t deal with it. Rabbi Yerucham Perlow argues that it is important. And why did everyone deal with it? Because they accept that the total has to be 613, and that creates many halakhic implications. Because once you argue, say, about—take terumah, there is a dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides whether there is a commandment to give the terumah to the priest, or whether the commandment is only to separate it. Nachmanides says these are two commandments. Maimonides says it is one commandment, only to separate, and there is no commandment to give it to the priest even though that is counted by others. If there were no binding number 613, then it would be a halakhic dispute like any other dispute—why should that matter to the count of the commandments? One would get 613 and the other 612. But if the number is binding, then when you disagree with me about the commandment of terumah, you have to tell me: why is this not counted? Because giving it to the priest is not a commandment? Is it rabbinic? Is there something else in its place that enters the count of the commandments? And those things already have halakhic implications. So precisely the fact that we have a binding number that everyone agrees on creates practical implications indirectly, but it does create practical implications for the discussion of the count of the commandments. And indeed, when you look at the roots and at Nachmanides’ glosses on Maimonides’ roots, there are lots of arguments that have halakhic implications, lots. But it is always indirect. It is always that the count of the commandments needs an explanation of why he counts this and does not count that, and then suddenly you discover halakhic conclusions. The explanation is that this is rabbinic; the explanation is that giving it is part of separating it; the explanation is—whatever, there are all sorts of such implications. But all of it is indirect, only because you need to get to 613. So that creates practical significance for the count of the commandments, because the count of the commandments in itself is not—there’s no practical implication to it; it is not halakhically interesting. Yes, yes. Maimonides certainly accepts this. Do all accept it? I’m not sure. For example, in Rav Saadia Gaon there is—not in Rav Saadia Gaon, in the Halakhot Gedolot. All the early counters of the commandments have “sections.” There are positive commandments, prohibitions, and sections. Seventy-something sections. What exactly are these sections? That is a mystery in itself. Are they collections of commandments, halakhic topics, or commandments imposed on the community? I don’t know, there are all sorts of interpretations of what these sections mean. But this is another way of dividing the commandments, not only into 248 and 365. And then there is room to discuss whether we are really bound specifically to 248 and 365 as opposed to those sections. If you divide them into positive and negative, do you necessarily get 248 and 365? I don’t know. Okay. In any event, among the standard counters of the commandments, the division into 248 and 365 was accepted. There’s no difference. On the contrary—because Nachmanides says that this number is binding, Rabbi Yerucham Perlow says, therefore dealing with the count of the commandments has significance. Because if the number were not binding—yes, yes, that’s not the dispute. No, Nachmanides argues—Rabbi Perlow answers a question Nachmanides does not address. The question is: why is it interesting to deal with the count of the commandments? Why is it important? So because Nachmanides says the number is imposed on us, you should understand that there is halakhic significance to the question of what is included in the count and what is not. Which in itself is not halakhically interesting. But once you need to remove something else in its place and explain why this is this and that is not, suddenly halakhic implications emerge. And to explain why you remove and insert, right? It follows from Maimonides’ words, but he doesn’t write it explicitly. He doesn’t say it. He says the total number is 613, and therefore you need to remove and insert. But he doesn’t say that this also creates halakhic implications. You’re right that it follows from what he says, but he doesn’t say it. Whenever I draw a conclusion from some claim, you can say: ah, what did you add by drawing that conclusion? It was already contained in the premise. Fine, we always do this—we add comments explaining what follows from what was said. I’m not arguing with Maimonides, just explaining that in light of Maimonides’ words one can understand why there is halakhic value in dealing with the count of the commandments. Yes, so Maimonides basically sets these fourteen rules in order to determine the 613 commandments. I said there are two kinds of rules: rules of classification and rules of category. Okay? Now, for example, the first root is that rabbinic commandments are not counted. There Maimonides writes—it’s obvious, as it were, why I brought this, because the Halakhot Gedolot did count them. Otherwise I wouldn’t have brought this root at all. He brings this root because the Halakhot Gedolot erred about it. The Halakhot Gedolot did count them. And Maimonides argues with the Halakhot Gedolot why it is incorrect to count rabbinic commandments. Now, the claim that rabbinic commandments are not counted is straightforwardly not a classificatory claim but a categorical one. I don’t refrain from counting rabbinic commandments because they are included within something else. I don’t count rabbinic commandments because they are not Torah commandments. They are rabbinic, but not Torah-level. I am counting the 613 commandments stated to Moses at Sinai, Torah commandments. These are not Torah commandments, right? The second root, the root I’m discussing here—can you see it? The second root: that it is not proper to count everything learned through one of the thirteen interpretive principles by which the Torah is expounded, or through inclusion. Or with fourteen principles. The thirteen principles and inclusion. The thirteen principles are, of course, those of Rabbi Ishmael, and inclusion is Rabbi Akiva’s. Altogether we have fourteen principles. And even within inclusion there are inclusion and exclusion, inclusion, exclusion, inclusion; there are several principles there. Maimonides likes fourteen. So here too there are fourteen. So that is the rule. Now he begins already with “When we began our composition”—that is already the explanation. But this is the rule. What is this rule? Is it a classificatory rule or a categorical rule? Not clear. One could say, for example, “The Lord your God shall you fear”—to include Torah scholars. So “to include Torah scholars” is learned from inclusion, from the word “et.” The commandment itself written in the verse is fear of Heaven, fear of God, right? I derive from it fear of Torah scholars. Now why is that not counted? One could explain that it is not counted because if it comes from an interpretation then it is not a Torah commandment, it is rabbinic or something else, but not a Torah commandment—then this is a categorical root. It says this is not a commandment and therefore it is not counted. But one could also say it is not counted because it is included within the commandment of fearing God. It is Torah-level, and since it is learned from the verse of fearing God, it is an extension of the commandment of fearing God, which includes within it another detail, fear of Torah scholars. Then it is Torah-level, but it is not counted because of classificatory rules, because it is included in the commandment of fearing God. Then it is a classificatory root and not a categorical one. So it depends how you understand it. We will see that the commentators on Maimonides disagree on this question—how to count this matter. In any event, according to Maimonides, the whole world of interpretation, everything that comes out of the world of interpretation, does not enter the count of the commandments. Now the question is how to understand that claim, as I said earlier: categorically or classificatorily. As far as we are concerned, what does it mean? Straightforwardly—and that is how Nachmanides read it—Maimonides means to say that what comes out of an interpretation, what is learned through one of the thirteen principles, is a rabbinic law. It does not enter the count of the commandments because it is rabbinic. Then of course this is a categorical root, not a classificatory one. But from the Tashbetz onward, the Tashbetz was happy that he found an interpretive idea, because Nachmanides says that Maimonides’ whole book was worthless because of this mistake. Because it contradicts what the Talmud says in hundreds of places, and it is simply against all our tradition. Something learned from interpretation is Torah-level. Nachmanides understood Maimonides to mean that it is rabbinic. He understood this as a categorical root and not a classificatory one. Therefore he says: this cannot be, it is simply an error. And then he brings hundreds of objections with immense erudition. Nachmanides’ glosses are really an experience to learn, the roots. Amazing the way he sails through the Talmud with real virtuosity. In any case, that is how Nachmanides understood Maimonides. Because of Nachmanides’ great difficulties, which we will read later, the Tashbetz and following almost all the later authorities (Acharonim) after him say that Maimonides did not mean a categorical root but a classificatory one. Maimonides says: we do not count the commandments that come out of interpretations not because they are rabbinic, but because we count only what is explicitly written in the Torah. But clearly this too is Torah-level. Maimonides is not making a halakhic claim here that a law derived by interpretation is not Torah-level. It is Torah-level. Or in other words, one can formulate it this way: in the second root Maimonides deals with the question of source, not the question of force. Nachmanides understood Maimonides to be making a statement about the force of the commandments: this is not Torah-level, it is rabbinic, and therefore it is not counted. The Tashbetz and those who follow him argue that Maimonides is speaking here only about the question of source. He is not dealing with force. The force is Torah-level, that is obvious, and Maimonides agrees. The question is what the source of these commandments is—whether the source is the Torah itself or interpretations. Then indeed, apparently, this should not have any halakhic practical implication. It is Torah-level and everything exactly like what is explicitly written in the Torah. It is just some root of that kind, one could say a classificatory root and not a categorical one. To the point that the question really arises: then why is this interesting? It has no halakhic implication. It is Torah-level, so why do I care whether it enters the count of the commandments or not? The answer is what Rabbi Yerucham Perlow said earlier: this matters because you have to know what is included in your count, what to remove and what to insert, so you still need to determine what goes in there. In any case, this is a dispute, and this dispute is based on a collection of many difficulties in Maimonides’ words. And if I formulate these difficulties—yes, Nachmanides reads Maimonides in the simple sense. I claim he also reads him correctly. In the simple sense, Maimonides means rabbinic law. Maimonides argues that laws derived from interpretations are rabbinic, and therefore they are not counted. This is a categorical root, not a classificatory one. That is how Nachmanides sees it, and from the Tashbetz onward almost everyone sees it as a classificatory root. They claim it is a classificatory root, okay? Now, why is Nachmanides so angry at Maimonides on this matter? Because what follows is that all the laws derived from interpretations are rabbinic laws. And the practical implications are not only for the count of the commandments—there you can do whatever you like—but what about cases of doubt? A doubt regarding such a law: leniently or stringently? If it is rabbinic, it should be leniently. But he shows from many places in the Talmud that this is not so; their status is Torah-level, and doubts regarding them are treated stringently. We see in the Talmud, from several indications, that these have the status of Torah law. Human dignity overrides only rabbinic laws, not Torah laws. Does it override laws derived from interpretations? No. Why not? We see from that that they are Torah-level. So how can Maimonides say they are rabbinic? More than that, Nachmanides argues that this difficulty is not only against the Talmud; it is also against Maimonides’ own words, because Maimonides himself in several places brings laws derived from interpretations and presents them as Torah laws. So this is an internal contradiction within Maimonides himself, beyond the objections that it contradicts the Talmud. There is a whole collection of many, many difficulties here, and as I said, under each such heading there are hundreds of objections. Okay? There are many difficulties with this reading of Maimonides. Therefore, as I said earlier, medieval and later authorities usually tend to think that one has to read Maimonides as speaking of a classificatory root and not a categorical one. The laws derived from interpretations are Torah laws in every respect. And what does not enter the count of the commandments is excluded because there is such a rule—that only what is explicitly written in the Torah enters the count, not what is learned through interpretation or something like that. Now, this interpretation of Maimonides is probably not correct, as I said earlier, even though it is very convenient. Let me show you, for example, one source. The introduction to the count of the commandments—incidentally, in the standard editions of the Book of the Commandments this appears right after the fourteenth root. They finish the roots, root 14, and immediately after that in the same text this passage appears, and there is no distinction at all saying this is root 14 and from here begins the introduction to the count of the commandments. Because after the roots begins the count of the commandments, the Book of the Commandments itself. The roots are an introduction to the Book of the Commandments. Okay? So here there is some—this is really discussed, whether it belongs to the fourteenth root, which deals with punishments, because here too he talks about punishments. Therefore it is very confusing whether this belongs to root 14 or is an independent introduction to the count of the commandments. In any case, he says here as follows: In everything that comes written in the Torah, that whoever did a certain act shall be put to death or become liable to karet, we truly know that that act is prohibited and is a prohibition. Now sometimes the warning is explicit in the text but the punishment is not explicit, and sometimes the punishment is mentioned but the warning is not mentioned. Yes, sometimes in the Torah there is a warning about something—sorry, the warning about something—but no punishment appears. And sometimes there is both punishment and warning. Like desecrating the Sabbath and idolatry: “You shall do no labor” and “You shall not worship them,” and afterward he is liable to stoning if he did labor or if he worshiped. And sometimes—and sometimes the warning is not explicitly clarified in the text as a plain prohibition, but only the punishment is mentioned, while the warning is left unstated. This is the category that interests us. So sometimes there is a warning and no punishment appears. What do we do in such a situation? Lashes. For every ordinary prohibition, you have a warning in the Torah; if you transgressed it—again, if it is a prohibition without an action or something like that, that is another issue—but an ordinary prohibition, if you transgress it, you get lashes. The Torah does not mention lashes. The punishment of lashes for prohibitions is not mentioned explicitly in the Torah, except for “the judge shall cause him to lie down and strike him,” from which we learn for all prohibitions in the Torah that there is a punishment of lashes. Yes, every prohibition mentioned in the Torah for which no punishment is written, no punishment is stated, gets lashes. If both punishment and warning are written, then it is never lashes. Karet, death, death by Heaven, fines, things of that sort—the Torah always writes those explicitly, because if it did not write them, we would assign lashes. Any punishment that is not lashes is written in the Torah. That is the rule. Okay. We know what to do with the first two categories. If there is a warning and no punishment, it is lashes. If there is both warning and punishment, then whatever punishment is written. And sometimes they discuss what happens if you cannot impose the stated punishment—do we nevertheless give lashes? Like conspiring witnesses: “you shall do to him as he intended.” If you cannot do to them as they intended, do you give them lashes? “You shall not bear false witness against your fellow.” Fine? The Talmud in Makkot. But that’s the first two categories. The third category is what he writes here: and sometimes the warning is not clarified in the text as a plain prohibition, but only the punishment is mentioned, while the warning is left unstated. For example: “One who strikes his father or his mother shall surely be put to death.” It does not say that it is forbidden to strike one’s father or mother; there is no warning. There is a punishment: “One who strikes his father or his mother shall surely be put to death.” Okay? What do we do there? Now, apparently, I would say: obvious—if there is a punishment, then clearly it is forbidden; what is the punishment for otherwise? Therefore if the punishment is mentioned, there is no need to write the warning. Okay? But that cannot be. Because then how do we explain all the places where there is a warning and also a punishment? Let the Torah write only the punishment; why write the warning? The Torah generally is careful to write both warning and punishment. So why are there places where it writes only punishment and does not write the warning? What do we do in those places? Maimonides says this: But the principle we hold is—page 81 and so on—the text never punishes unless it has warned, and it is impossible for there not to be a warning for everything for which punishment is incurred. Maimonides says: if we have a case where there is punishment without warning, you cannot punish, because the text never punishes unless it has warned. Again, this is not talking about warning the person, as in the formal warning given by witnesses before someone commits an offense. It means a warning in the sense that the Torah warns that the act is forbidden; “warning” means a prohibition. In the language of the Sages, a “warning” is the negative commandment. Okay? Once the Torah says something is forbidden, only then can one punish. And then he says: therefore they say everywhere, “We heard the punishment, but from where is the warning? Scripture says such-and-such.” In other words, when the Sages encounter a situation where punishment is written but warning is not, they immediately ask: one moment, this cannot be—“We heard the punishment, but from where is the warning?” And then they bring some explanation for why there nevertheless is a warning. It is impossible for there to be punishment without warning. Okay? And when the warning is not clarified from the text—if they do not find a warning, fine, “We heard the punishment, but from where is the warning?”—boom, they don’t find it. What do they do? They learn it by analogy from one of the Torah’s analogical inferences. What does that mean? An interpretation. We find that although the Torah does not write the warning, we can derive it from an interpretive exposition. Now pay attention: as they mentioned regarding the warning for cursing one’s father or mother and striking one’s father or mother, which is not clarified in the text at all, since it does not say “Do not curse your father” and does not say “Do not strike your father,” yet death is incurred by one who strikes or curses. So we know that these are prohibitions, because there is a punishment, so clearly there is a prohibition here, but there is no warning; we did not find a warning. And we derived for them and for similar cases the warning from another place by way of analogy. Essentially they derive the warning from the stubborn and rebellious son. And this does not contradict the statement “one does not derive warnings from a legal inference.” Apparently, Maimonides says, if punishment is written in the Torah, and after all without warning the punishment cannot be given, and then the warning is derived by way of analogy, by some interpretive principle—Maimonides asks, how can that be? After all, one does not derive warnings from legal inference. Here Nachmanides comments: what does “one does not derive warnings from legal inference” mean? Usually the understanding is that “legal inference” means an a fortiori argument, as the Talmud says, “is this not an a fortiori argument?” or “one does not punish on the basis of a legal inference”—that always refers to an a fortiori argument. But Maimonides understands “one does not derive warnings from legal inference” or “one does not punish on the basis of legal inference” to apply to all the interpretive principles, not only to a fortiori arguments. And that is against the Talmud, and Nachmanides spends a long time objecting, but that is how Maimonides understood it. Okay? So Maimonides says: how can it be that we derive the warning by interpretation? After all, the rule is that one does not derive warnings from legal inference. So he says: we say “one does not derive warnings from legal inference” only in order to prohibit something for which no specific prohibition has been clarified through the analogy. But when the punishment is found explicitly in the Torah for one who performs this act, we know necessarily that it is a forbidden act against which there is a warning. We derive the warning by analogy only in order to reinforce for us the principle of the Sages, “The text does not punish unless it has warned.” And once the warning has been reached regarding that matter, then one who transgressed and did it becomes liable to karet or death. And know this introduction and remember it together with these roots. Now here there is an interesting point. Notice what Maimonides is actually saying. If I have a law learned from interpretation—say, the punishment is not written in the Torah, okay? But I learned a law through interpretation. Okay? Do we give lashes for that? Or punish? No. Why? One does not punish or derive warnings from legal inference, right? We do not give lashes for it. But if the punishment is written and we derive a warning by way of analogy, then we do impose the punishment, right? That is exactly what Maimonides is writing here. Don’t be troubled by the fact that one does not derive warnings from legal inference, because here the punishment is explicitly written. If the punishment were not written, then we would not punish, because one does not derive warnings from legal inference. But if the punishment is written, and I need a warning—without a warning one does not punish—but here the warning can also come by way of analogy. So first of all we see that a law derived from interpretation is not one for which we administer lashes or punishment. It is not really a Torah law, at least not fully, right? It has halakhic implications. When I say that something comes from interpretation, it has a different status. It is not just that it is not counted in the count of the commandments; one also does not punish for it. That is what it means to punish on the basis of legal inference. We will later see that one does not punish for it because it is rabbinic, but here nothing explicit is yet said, only that one does not punish. So first of all we see that when Maimonides says that laws derived from interpretations have a different status, he means a claim that has halakhic implications. It is not just some statement for the count of the commandments. Here—you don’t punish for it. Okay? More than that, in his commentary on the Mishnah, tractate Kelim chapter 17, Maimonides writes there that for a halakha given to Moses at Sinai one does not punish. It is a rabbinic law, a halakha given to Moses at Sinai, words of the Scribes. And there too he writes that one does not punish for it. And when Maimonides says that this is a rabbinic law, words of the Scribes, he does not mean only the question of source; it is also the question of force. This is not a Torah law. We’ll understand how and why, but first of all, what he says. That is what Maimonides says. There are very few places where you see this in Maimonides. For example, in the Mishneh Torah at the beginning of the laws of marriage, Maimonides is very famous there. Before the giving of the Torah, if a man met a woman in the marketplace and he and she wanted to marry, he would bring her into his house and have relations with her privately, and she would thereby become his wife. Once the Torah was given, Israel was commanded that if a man wanted to marry a woman, he should first acquire her in the presence of witnesses, and afterward she would become his wife, as it is said: “When a man takes a woman and has relations with her.” Law 2: and these acquisitions are a positive commandment of the Torah, and a woman is acquired in one of three ways: by money, or by document, or by intercourse. By intercourse and by document they are from the Torah, and by money it is from the words of the Scribes. There are three ways in which a woman is acquired, and only two are Torah-level—intercourse and document. Money is words of the Scribes. The Raavad says there in his gloss: by intercourse and by document from the Torah, by money from the words of the Scribes—Abraham said: this is a corruption, and a corrupt explanation misled him. Meaning, a woman is acquired in three ways, and all three are learned from the Torah: “taking, taking” from the field of Ephron, right? Monetary betrothal. So how can Maimonides say this is words of the Scribes? The Kesef Mishneh there explains that this rests on Maimonides’ second root. Because the fact that we learn money from “taking, taking” from the field of Ephron is a verbal analogy, and therefore it is words of the Scribes, not Torah-level. So here is an example that in Maimonides’ laws there appears an implication of the principle he establishes in the second root. In most places in Maimonides you won’t find such an implication. That is one of Nachmanides’ objections: if everything that comes from interpretation is only words of the Scribes, I would expect the whole Mishneh Torah to be full of laws where we would suddenly be surprised, as the Raavad is surprised here—how can Maimonides write that this is rabbinic when it is clearly Torah-level, it comes from interpretation? And then one would have to say: yes, interpretation according to Maimonides is words of the Scribes. But no. There are almost no such laws. There is something about relatives through the mother or something like that—disqualified relatives—where Maimonides says this disqualification of kinship is rabbinic. There are isolated places where either Maimonides or his commentators explain this by the power of the second root. And there are very many laws in Maimonides whose basis is interpretation, and Maimonides presents them as Torah laws. That is one of the many objections to Maimonides—objections of that sort. I said there is an internal contradiction in Maimonides’ own words. Incidentally, to complete the picture, look at law 3: once the woman is acquired and becomes betrothed, even though they have not had relations and she has not entered her husband’s house, she is a married woman, and anyone other than her husband who has relations with her is liable to death by a religious court, and she requires a bill of divorce. Does that also apply to monetary betrothal, or only to document and intercourse? He doesn’t distinguish here, right? Once she has become betrothed, anyone who has relations with her is liable to death. Wait—monetary betrothal is words of the Scribes, and from something rabbinic one is liable to death? From here comes the proof that many bring, that when Maimonides says “words of the Scribes” he does not mean the question of force but only the question of source, unlike what I said earlier. Rabbinic what? But monetary betrothal is valid on a Torah level. So why does he say it is words of the Scribes? It is Torah-valid. So is it rabbinic or Torah-level? Is there a rabbinic mode that creates Torah-level betrothal? Torah-level—what rabbinic? The rabbis only originated it, but it is Torah-level. In other words, then you say: this is not a question of force but a question of source. The source is rabbinic, and the force is Torah-level; in the end it produces Torah-level betrothal. That is the proof people bring from this Maimonides, one of the proofs brought by those who hold that Maimonides did not mean to say that this is rabbinic in terms of force. It is a law that came from the rabbis because they created it through interpretation, but its force is Torah-level. It is not a rabbinic law. Fine, that is the proof they want to bring from Maimonides here. Allegedly, Maimonides distinguishes between laws that come out of interpretations and ordinary rabbinic laws such as enactments and decrees, things like that, whose halakhic status is rabbinic. Both are called rabbinic laws because Maimonides calls rabbinic everything not written in the Torah in words. But in terms of force, some are Torah laws and some are rabbinic laws. I claim that is not correct, as I said earlier. Maimonides means the question of force and not only the question of source. Here specifically, because it resembles what you said—because the concept of betrothal exists on a Torah level, right? By money and by document, and in general the very concept of betrothal—so now, once the Sages found that it can also be effected with money, there Maimonides says that in the end this really is a Torah law. But if the Torah had not had the concept at all, and the Sages were only deriving something by interpretation, then indeed that would have had only rabbinic force. And you can see this in the Book of the Commandments in the positive commandment of betrothal. The wording, I think, strongly suggests this. Commandment 213 is that we were commanded to have relations through betrothal. Before having relations, one must first perform betrothal and give something into the woman’s hand. What is that? Money, right? Or by document or by intercourse. And this is the commandment of betrothal. Its indication is what they said: “When a man takes a woman and has relations with her”—this indicates that he acquires through intercourse. And it says “and she leaves and becomes,” just as leaving is by document, so becoming is by document. And likewise we learned that she is acquired by money from what it says regarding the Hebrew maidservant, “there is no money”—there is no money for this master, but there is money for another master, namely the father. But Torah betrothal is explicitly clarified through intercourse, as has been explained in many places in Kiddushin and Niddah. What is written here? Very similar to what I said earlier, right? I think I was right on target. Meaning, Maimonides says: there is a Torah commandment of betrothal. That commandment can also be by money, by document, and by intercourse. Except that intercourse is the form of betrothal that appears explicitly in the Torah. Betrothal by money is learned from “there is no money for this master, but there is money for another master,” or from “taking, taking,” I don’t remember exactly—he learns it from some interpretation. But the interpretation reveals that the Torah concept of betrothal can also take effect through money, not only through intercourse and document. And that really is an interpretation that in a certain sense leans on an already existing concept; it’s an exceptional interpretation, because the concept of betrothal exists even without it. It only comes to add another detail to the existing concept of betrothal. Therefore on the one hand Maimonides in the laws of marriage calls it words of the Scribes, and here he explicitly writes that it is Torah betrothal even through money. And there too, one law later, in law 3, we saw that one who has relations with the woman is liable to death even in the case of monetary betrothal. Therefore, if you do not want to create a dispute or say Maimonides changed his mind and things of that sort, then it is pretty clear that this must be reconciled by saying that this is indeed a rabbinic law, but a rabbinic law that reveals to me what betrothal is, where betrothal itself is a Torah concept. Therefore there, the result of monetary betrothal is indeed Torah-level. But if there had been no concept of betrothal in the Torah at all and we had learned the very concept of betrothal through interpretation, then indeed one who had relations with the woman would not be liable to death, because it would be rabbinic betrothal. It is only because the concept of betrothal exists, and the interpretation merely adds another detail within that existing concept, only because of that is it Torah-level. Yes, but the details need to be written in the Torah in order for them to be Torah-level. Even details within a commandment—when I speak, for example, about the four species: lulav, myrtle, willow, and citron—everything is written in the Torah. Since these are details of one commandment, I do not count each one separately but as one commandment. What I am saying here is exactly what you see here. Meaning, in principle one could have divided and said: if the details are written in the Torah, then this is a group of details that creates one commandment; but if one of the details comes from interpretation, then it would not be Torah-level. And that is why everyone attacks Maimonides. What I said here is: no. It may be that if it is a detail within an existing commandment, and the interpretation only shows me that there is another detail, then I understand the interpretation as explanatory interpretation. It explains the Torah, and after it explains, that becomes Torah law. Therefore I say that all this applies when the interpretation brings me a detail within an existing commandment. But if the interpretation innovates an entirely new commandment, then in such cases this truly would not be Torah law according to Maimonides. Perhaps one more remark connected to what I said earlier, about the need for a warning, because we’ll use this later. The Sefer HaChinukh, commandment 69, not to curse a judge. So there is a prohibition against cursing a judge. He says as follows: not to curse judges, as it says “You shall not curse God,” and its interpretation is judges, as in “whom God condemns.” The verse used the term “God” so that included within this prohibition there would be another prohibition as well, namely the prohibition against cursing the Divine Name. A curse against the Holy One, blessed be He, does not explicitly appear in the Torah, because “You shall not curse God” in the plain sense refers to judges. But it calls judges “God” here so that within this we will understand that there is also a prohibition on cursing the Divine Name. So Maimonides says. As the Sages of blessed memory said in the Mekhilta and Sifrei: the warning for cursing the Divine Name is from the verse “You shall not curse God.” And what is written elsewhere, “One who pronounces the Name of the Lord shall surely be put to death,” that is the punishment. But the warning is from here. Do you see? This is exactly an example of what he said earlier. There is an explicit punishment here, “One who pronounces the Name of the Lord shall surely be put to death,” so the punishment exists, but I have no warning. I learn the warning from some interpretation of “You shall not curse God,” even though the plain meaning is judges. But I interpret it to say that because it is written with the term “God,” it serves as the warning for pronouncing the Divine Name. As if the punishment in the commandment would have sufficed—yet the punishment in the commandment occurs without a warning. You see exactly Maimonides’ language. And that is why our Sages of blessed memory always say, “We heard the punishment; from where is the warning?” Now he explains—up to this point it is like Maimonides. Now he explains: the idea is that if the Divine only prevented us from something by saying, “Whoever does such-and-such will be punished in such-and-such a way,” that would imply that anyone who wishes may choose to accept the punishment and not care about its pain, and transgress the commandment, and in doing so he would not be going against the will of the blessed God and His command. The commandment would become something like a purchase and sale. Meaning, whoever wants to do such-and-such may pay such-and-such and do it, or accept upon himself the burden of suffering such-and-such and do it. What is he saying? If there were only a punishment—say it only said, “One who pronounces the Name of the Lord shall surely be put to death,” and there were no warning—then I would think that there is really no prohibition on pronouncing the Divine Name, except that one who does so is put to death. Like commerce, like a purchase and sale. If you want, do it, and that’s the price. Pay the price, but there is no problem here; you are not going against God’s will. That is the claim. Therefore it is not enough to write the punishment; one must also teach me that the act itself is problematic, and not merely that if you do it this is the price, while you remain free to do it or not. Okay? The Minchat Chinukh writes regarding the case of one who suppresses his prophecy. Tosafot says there that one who suppresses his prophecy has no warning. A prophet who does not relay the prophecy he received—there is no warning for that. The Talmud says he is flogged. Tosafot asks: but there is no warning? So the Minchat Chinukh wants to suggest an answer to Tosafot’s question. He says: perhaps one who suppresses his prophecy is an example of the principle written here. There we found no warning; there is only punishment. So in that case the punishment is like a purchase and sale. Meaning, you may choose not to say the prophecy, but know that the punishment is lashes. But it is not against God’s will if you suppress your prophecy. That is the claim. Therefore there really is no warning there. And a warning is always needed to tell me that this is not a purchase and sale, but that the act itself is actually problematic. But where there is no warning and the punishment appears—you cannot refuse to punish, because the punishment is written—so if that is the case, then apparently there the punishment is indeed like a purchase and sale. That is the claim. Later he rejects it, by the way. He says it cannot be. But that is what he wanted to argue in light of this Sefer HaChinukh. And the beautiful thing is that he brings proof from Jonah the prophet. Because Jonah the prophet received a prophecy from the Holy One, blessed be He, to go to Nineveh, and he flees from God to the sea. What is he, a little child, running away from God? We are dealing with a prophet. He runs away from God? Rather no—Jonah had an argument with God. He did not agree with this policy. They sinned; they should be punished. Why are You sending me so that they will repent and You will forgive them? And indeed the book ends with the gourd, right? “Are you very angry over the gourd? You had pity on the gourd, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow, and should I not have pity on Nineveh the great city?” Meaning, Jonah wanted the attribute of justice. What do you mean, You have pity on Nineveh? And the Holy One, blessed be He, teaches him through the gourd about the attribute of mercy. They had a fundamental dispute. So Jonah the prophet said to himself: I’m running away, I won’t go tell Nineveh this word. That is not against God’s will, because there is no warning. I’ll bear the punishment. Fine—I am suppressing my prophecy and I’ll bear the punishment. So the dispute was a fundamental one. Therefore he says there is another example of this: Rabbi Dov Lando from Slabodka. At the beginning of tractate Temurah, the Ramah raises the possibility there that a person may have to swear a true oath—religious court obligates him to swear—and still get lashes. He would get lashes even though the court obligates him and it is also a true oath, not a false oath. The Talmud later rejects this; it is only an initial suggestion. But there is an initial suggestion there that there is punishment like a purchase and sale. Meaning, this is not a transgression at all; on the contrary, here you are doing something you are obligated to do—the court obligates you to swear—yet you will get lashes because that is the price. Meaning, you swear and you get lashes. Okay? That is another example of this. But in both places, there it is an initial suggestion that is rejected, and here too pious readers won’t be able to accept such a thing; in the end apparently there is no such thing. Meaning, if there is punishment there must be a warning. There is no such thing as punishment without warning. Not that if we find punishment without warning then there can still be punishment, only it is like a purchase and sale—no. If we find punishment without warning, that cannot be; there must be a warning, whether by interpretation or however else. So he says—and this is not the intention of the commandments in this matter. Do you see? “And this is not the intention of the commandments in this matter.” Rather, for our benefit God withheld us from certain things and informed us, in some cases, of the punishment that comes to us immediately, apart from violating His will, which is harsher than all. The first punishment is simply that you did not do God’s will—that itself is the punishment. In addition to that there are also punishments: lashes, fines, death, and the like. And that is what the Sages say everywhere: “He did not punish unless He first warned.” Meaning, God does not inform us of the punishment that comes upon us for transgressing the commandment unless He first informs us that His will is that we not do that thing which He warned against. And the warning comes to tell me that the act is not okay. The punishment comes to tell me what sanction one receives. But there must always be a warning as well. Why? Because you need to understand that the punishment is not given to you arbitrarily; it is given because you were not okay. You know, in the law books of the State of Israel there is no prohibition, no statement saying it is forbidden to steal. It does not say it is forbidden to steal; it says that a thief’s punishment is such-and-such. That is what is written. It does not say that stealing is forbidden. There are indeed liberal interpretations that say: because criminal law cannot determine that it is forbidden for me to steal; I am an autonomous person; the state cannot determine for me what is permitted and what is forbidden. The state can tell those who work for it—the judges, the police—what they must do if I steal: my punishment is such-and-such. But it cannot tell me what to do; whether I may steal or may not steal. A somewhat problematic interpretation. Because if the state is allowed to punish me, but is not allowed to say what is permitted or forbidden—strange, no? Yes, so the claim is basically that the punishment can appear, and apparently it is self-evident from that that the act is forbidden. In the Torah it is not like that. If the punishment is written, that still is not enough; you need to find a source that also says that the thing is forbidden, not only that there is a punishment for it. In fact—and we’ll use this later—the point is that in every commandment or transgression there are two aspects. One aspect is that you rebelled against the command, and the second aspect is the essential aspect. Suppose I am told not to desecrate the Sabbath, yes, “You shall do no labor.” What does that mean? When I do labor there are two problems with that action. One problem is that I defied the will of the Holy One, blessed be He; I acted against the command, I rebelled against God, yes. The second aspect is that desecrating the Sabbath is a problematic act. Why did the Holy One, blessed be He, forbid me to desecrate the Sabbath? Because desecrating the Sabbath is a problematic act. I don’t know exactly what kind of damage it causes; that doesn’t matter right now. It is a problematic act. So when I desecrated the Sabbath, first, I did an act that is problematic; I caused some kind of damage, maybe some spiritual damage or something of that sort. In addition to that, I did not obey the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. Two aspects. Also in a commandment, when I fulfill God’s will—first, I obeyed the command, and second, I performed an act that is a good act. That’s why there is a command, because the act is a good act, okay? Two aspects. I think these two dimensions are what is written here. On the one hand there is a warning that tells me this is not okay, and then when I do not obey that warning I am basically defying God’s command. In addition there is also something problematic in the action itself, and perhaps that is what the punishment addresses. Okay? Two aspects. In the ninth root Maimonides writes—the ninth root is divided in two. The ninth root: that it is not proper to count the prohibitions and positive commands, but rather the things against which one is warned and the things one is commanded regarding. Meaning, we do not say that since the Sabbath is mentioned twelve times, therefore we count twelve commandments. We count only one commandment, not twelve commandments. Why? Because we do not count the prohibitions and positive commands, not the verses that prohibit or command, but the matters those verses command. Yes, we do not count the commandments to keep the Sabbath, because then we would have to count twelve commandments. We count the content of those commandments, the observance of the Sabbath, and therefore it is only one commandment. Okay? That is the first part of the root. Now this is a very long root. And what should be joined to this root—the second part, what I am telling here—is that what we said, that it is proper to count the matters commanded and prohibited, is on condition that for the prohibited matter there be a distinct prohibition for each and every matter, or some proof stated by the transmitters that distinguishes one matter from another and obligates a separate warning for each matter. But when one prohibition includes many matters, then only that prohibition alone is counted, and not each and every matter included in that prohibition. And this is a general prohibition for which one does not receive lashes. Maimonides gives the famous example: “You shall not eat over the blood.” This is one prohibition, and through this one prohibition we are warned about many different things. They said in explanation of it—and this is because regarding “You shall not eat over the blood,” they said in explanation: From where do we know that one who eats from an animal before its life has departed violates a prohibition? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood.” Another explanation: from where do we know that one who eats sacrificial meat before the blood has been sprinkled violates a prohibition? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood”—do not eat the meat while the blood is still in the basin. Rabbi Dosa says: from where do we know that one does not provide a condolence meal for those executed by religious court? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood”—one does not make a meal after the execution. Rabbi Akiva says: from where do we know that a Sanhedrin that executed a person tastes nothing all that day? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood.” Rabbi Yosei bar Hanina said: from where is the warning for the stubborn and rebellious son? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood.” And they also said in Berakhot: from where do we know that a person should not taste anything before he prays? Scripture says, “You shall not eat over the blood.” And in Maimonides it seems this is Torah-level, by the way, a warning from “You shall not eat over the blood.” Interesting. Usually people take this as a rabbinic law—you know, not to distract oneself from prayer or something like that; one should not eat before fulfilling commandments. Maimonides takes it, at least regarding prayer, as apparently Torah-level. In any case, here we have five or six different matters whose warning comes from “You shall not eat over the blood.” Maimonides says: only one commandment is counted. And in fact he counts only the warning of the stubborn and rebellious son from “You shall not eat over the blood,” because in the section of the stubborn and rebellious son the Torah says only what is done to him, only the punishment. Where is the warning from? From “You shall not eat over the blood.” Okay? Now Rabbi Yerucham Perlow asks in his work on the ninth root: the two parts of the ninth root contradict one another. In the first part Maimonides says: we do not count the verses, we count the content. If the command to observe the Sabbath is written twelve times, we do not count twelve commandments; we count one commandment because the content is observing the Sabbath. So that is what we count. In the second part he says the opposite: if there is one command with six different contents, we count one commandment. Why? So in practice, do we count according to the verses or according to the contents? He leaves it unresolved—there is a contradiction in Maimonides. Now Maimonides himself joins these two parts under the same root, so he didn’t miss this. Yes, it is clear that Rabbi Yerucham Perlow didn’t understand something here, because Maimonides is aware of it; after all, he joins them under the same root. What is the answer? Simple. No—do we go by the content or by the verses? There is a situation where many verses have the same content, and there is a situation where many contents come from the same verse. So in practice, do we follow the verses or the contents? No, that’s not a general prohibition. The Sabbath has—clearly—many forms of trapping, okay, “You shall not do any labor,” and there are the thirty-nine labors, each of which counts as doing labor. That is not called a general prohibition. Those are simply different ways of violating the same prohibition. Here these are different prohibitions, only they are learned from the same verse. The answer is very simple: in order to count something as a commandment in the count of the commandments, it needs two things. It needs a unique content, and it needs a unique verse. If one of those two things is missing, you cannot count that commandment as an independent commandment. So in the first part of the root, what does Maimonides say? That there are twelve instances where observance of the Sabbath is written. So there are twelve verses. Content—one. In order for there to be twelve commandments, you need twelve verses each with separate content. Therefore it is one commandment. In the second part Maimonides says: a general prohibition—there is one verse with six different contents. We count one commandment. Why? True, there are six contents, but separate content is not enough for there to be a commandment; you also need a separate verse. There isn’t one—there is only one verse. In other words, you need both requirements: both content and verse. Only then is it a commandment counted separately. If one of them is missing—either the content is missing or the commanding verse is missing—then it is one commandment. And these are the two parts of the root; there is no contradiction at all. Why indeed is it that to count a commandment you need both content and command? What I said earlier: in every commandment there are two things. There is the fact that the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded, and there is the content—why really it is appropriate to behave this way or inappropriate to behave that way. Okay, that exists even without the command. So what does the command do? It tells me that besides the fact that the act is wrong, if you do it you are also defying the command. There are two problems here. Therefore every Torah commandment needs content and it needs command. It needs content to explain that the act is wrong, and it needs command to say that if you do it, you are defying God’s command, you are not obeying the Holy One, blessed be He. Okay? So that is a Torah commandment. A Torah commandment is a commandment that has content and command. That is a commandment. If either content or command is missing, it will not be a commandment—at least not a counted commandment. So I return to our topic. There were two interpretations of Maimonides. Maybe Maimonides speaks only about the question of source and not the question of force; or maybe Maimonides speaks about the question of force. Nachmanides understood Maimonides to be speaking about the question of force. Maimonides says that commandments derived from interpretations are rabbinic commandments; therefore they are not counted, just like in the first root where ordinary rabbinic commandments are not counted. The commentators from the Tashbetz onward interpret Maimonides as speaking only about the question of source, not the question of force. I showed, at the end of the introduction to the Book of the Commandments, that Maimonides also speaks of halakhic implications for this matter. Meaning, he really does mean rabbinic law. It has halakhic implications. It is not just a statement about source, that the Sages were the ones who created the commandment but in fact it is Torah-level in terms of its halakhic force. No—there is also a statement here about the halakhic force of that commandment. Okay? Because without a warning—that is what he says—without a warning one does not punish. Why does one not punish? Because it is not Torah-level. A warning means that it is written in the Torah. If it is written in the Torah, it is Torah-level. The literal meaning of “Torah-level” is: written in the Torah. That is Torah-level. Maimonides understands it that way. The term “Torah-level” means something written in the Torah. Okay? That is what we see in all the—both in the introduction and in the ninth root and everywhere else. And in my view, that is also what is written in the second root. The second root says that a commandment derived from interpretation is a rabbinic commandment, words of the Scribes, because it is not written in the Torah. We learn it by interpretation, and it is not written in the Torah, and therefore it is not Torah-level. Now he says—let’s read the second root: the second root, that it is not proper to count everything learned through one of the thirteen interpretive principles by which the Torah is expounded. We have already explained in the introduction to our work, in the commentary on the Mishnah, that most of the laws of the Torah were derived through the thirteen interpretive principles by which the Torah is expounded, and that a law derived through one of those principles may sometimes be disputed. And there are laws that are accepted interpretations from Moses, about which there is no dispute, but they bring proof for them through one of the thirteen principles because of the wisdom of the text, in that it is possible to find in it a hint pointing to that accepted interpretation, or an analogy that points to it. And we already explained this matter there—he means in the introduction to the Mishnah. In the introduction to the Mishnah he divides into five kinds of laws. There are laws written in the Torah, there are laws derived from interpretation where the interpretation creates the law, and there are laws derived from interpretation where the interpretation only supports. That is, we have a tradition that this is the law, and we find an interpretation that anchors that law. We spoke about that: supporting interpretation, where they bring proof for them through one of the thirteen principles. And if this is so—I return here, yes?—and if this is so, then not everything that we find the Sages derived by analogy from the thirteen principles can be said to have been stated to Moses at Sinai. Nor should it be said that everything we find in the Talmud supported by one of the thirteen principles is rabbinic. Because sometimes it will be an accepted interpretation and they merely supported it by interpretation from the verse. Do you see what he writes here? It is very interesting. What we find by analogy from the thirteen principles is not always something said to Moses at Sinai. Why not? Because that is creative interpretation. It was not said to Moses at Sinai. We innovated a new law here, and this is a law derived from interpretation that is rabbinic, and therefore it is not counted in the count of the commandments. That was the subject of the root. That applies only to creative interpretation. And also, we do not say that everything we find in the Talmud supported by one of the thirteen principles is rabbinic. On the other hand, we also do not say that everything derived by interpretation is rabbinic. If it is creative interpretation, then it really is rabbinic. But sometimes it is an accepted interpretation and they merely supported it by interpretation on the text. That is supporting interpretation. And that is not rabbinic; it is Torah-level. And that too will enter the count of the commandments according to Maimonides. You see? He is already speaking here about rabbinic law. This is not merely a statement that what comes from interpretation does not enter the count of the commandments. It does not enter the count of the commandments because it is rabbinic, not simply because it doesn’t enter the count. But Maimonides says this is all in the case of creative interpretation. In the case of supporting interpretation, it is Torah law and it does enter the count of the commandments. That means that every time we see a law derived from interpretation, it depends whether the interpretation is creative or supportive. If it is creative interpretation, then it is a rabbinic law and does not enter the count of the commandments. If it is supportive interpretation, then it is a Torah law and does enter the count of the commandments. And on this Nachmanides already objects in his glosses: how does this hocus-pocus happen? Because you tell me, say, that there is a law which is a halakha given to Moses at Sinai. What is a halakha given to Moses at Sinai? A law for which we have a tradition from Sinai, but we have no interpretation or any textual anchor at all. An oral tradition that is passed down orally; we do not know how to anchor it in the text—not by interpretation, not by plain meaning, not in any way. That is what in the language of the Sages is called a halakha given to Moses at Sinai. About that, Maimonides writes—as I mentioned from his commentary on the Mishnah in Kelim—that this is words of the Scribes. Why? Now we also understand why. Because it is not Torah-level. Torah-level means written in the Torah. A halakha given to Moses at Sinai has no textual anchor; it is not Torah-level. It is rabbinic; doubts about it are treated leniently, Maimonides says. It is truly a rabbinic law, even though it was given to Moses at Sinai. There are some contradictions about this, but in several places he writes this—rabbinic law, where in case of doubt one is lenient. Says Nachmanides: tradition by itself does not make a law Torah-level. Creative interpretation also does not make a law Torah-level. So how does tradition plus interpretation make a law Torah-level? Tradition plus interpretation—that is supporting interpretation. We have a tradition that this is the law, and the interpretation supports that law on the text. And that, Maimonides says, is Torah-level. Nachmanides asks: I don’t understand you according to your own approach. I don’t accept what you say in the first place, but even according to your approach, how does this work? Tradition alone does not produce a Torah-level law; interpretation alone does not either. But if there is interpretation and tradition together, then yes? How does zero plus zero equal one? Apparently it is half plus half, not zero plus zero. But we need to understand what that means. Apparently it is not Torah-level, but also not fully rabbinic; it is half Torah-level. The tradition is half Torah-level, the interpretation is half Torah-level, together they make something fully Torah-level. Those are, of course, just words. How to understand such a thing—that is what we will explain next time. Okay, that is basically the basis for—but there is one more very important point here, which is actually the foundation of this whole matter of the Oral Torah.