חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם

The Thought of Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel – Rov – Lecture 5

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This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

This transcript was produced automatically through artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • [0:00] Definition and characteristics of gezerah shavah
  • [1:51] Michael Chernick’s book on gezerah shavah
  • [14:16] Receiving it from one’s teacher and understanding the language in gezerah shavah
  • [17:33] Discussion of “the best”: Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Ishmael
  • [23:24] Hanukkah and the connection to the dispute over enactments
  • [26:10] Instituting Hallel and thanksgiving versus lighting candles
  • [27:16] The shift from the flask of oil to the destruction – the dispute between the schools of Hillel and Shammai
  • [31:36] Gezerah shavah and tradition – Rabbi Ishmael’s view
  • [37:06] Differences between clarification of meaning and gezerah shavah
  • [43:03] Gezerah shavah of “fifteen-fifteen” – Passover and Sukkot
  • [44:49] “This month shall be for you” – a hint to the dates of the festivals
  • [51:24] Interpretation of the commandment of eating matzah for seven days
  • [53:37] A diet and the doctor’s instruction
  • [55:20] Dispute over the blessing on matzah and the Vilna Gaon

Summary

General Overview

On page 25 the discussion moves from an a fortiori inference to gezerah shavah as a hermeneutic rule that rests on a textual trigger rather than logic alone, though here too the interpreter’s reasoning determines how to compare and for what purpose. The claim is that gezerah shavah requires a deep understanding of the rules of language in order to identify hints such as a word being “available” or a linguistic irregularity, while distinguishing between midrash and plain meaning as two parallel planes. Historical and theoretical directions are brought regarding the development of gezerot shavot, the status of “a person does not derive a gezerah shavah unless he received it from his teacher,” and the question of why certain hermeneutic rules entered Rabbi Ishmael’s thirteen rules while others did not. Later comes the example of “the best” in the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Ishmael, a discussion of the gezerah shavah of “fifteen-fifteen” from Passover to Sukkot and an explanation of what “available” means on one side, and finally a reservation about the principle of deriving Jewish law from the reason for a verse.

A Fortiori Inference and Gezerah Shavah

On page 25, an a fortiori inference is presented as a rule that operates on the logical plane and is open to refutation, whereas gezerah shavah begins with a textual trigger and therefore lacks an internal logical control that would prevent one from reaching any conclusion one wants. Gezerah shavah is not activated automatically every time the same word appears in two places, and sometimes there are similar word-pairs that are not expounded. The interpreter has to decide with respect to which law to compare, in which direction to compare, and exactly what to learn from the comparison, and these decisions depend on reasoning.

Rules of Language, Availability, and Tradition from One’s Teacher

The decision about when a pair of words is a “candidate” for gezerah shavah depends on identifying a textual hint such as an unnecessary word, an unusual form, or another indication that replaces the ancient pattern of unique words in Scripture. It is argued that at this point there is room for “wisdom of language,” because one must know what counts as a regular appearance and what counts as an irregularity in biblical language in order to determine whether the word is “available” and meant for interpretation. The distinction between gezerah shavah and general-particular-general is sharp, because in general-particular-general the structure itself is the hint and the interpretation is always activated, whereas in gezerah shavah the linguistic similarity alone is not a compelling hint. The explanation for “a person does not derive a gezerah shavah unless he received it from his teacher” is connected to receiving the tools and judgment needed to identify what is “available” and apply the rule, and not necessarily to receiving the list of gezerot shavot themselves as a closed tradition.

The Development of Gezerot Shavot and Michael Chernick

Michael Chernick, who wrote a book on gezerah shavah that was published in Lod at the institute near the library, argues that the earliest gezerot shavot were made on a pair of words that is unique in Scripture, meaning words that appear only twice in the entire Hebrew Bible (Tanakh), in which case the comparison is called for. He presents a layered analysis and dating that shows that as the generations advance, gezerot shavot are also made on words that are not unique. This expansion is explained as a natural continuation through the Talmud’s requirement that the word be “available” as a substitute for the earlier hint of uniqueness.

Rabbi Ishmael’s Thirteen Rules and What Did Not Enter the List

The question is raised why other interpretations based on “available” words are not counted among Rabbi Ishmael’s thirteen rules, and the words of Sefer Keritut are brought, suggesting three reasons. Some rules are not included because they belong to aggadic interpretation, some because they are disputed, and some because they have the status of plain-meaning interpretation even if the path to them is midrashic. Another possibility is also mentioned: that certain rules are a later elaboration of an earlier rule, similar to the differences between lists of hermeneutic rules from different generations.

Expansion from “Et” as a Practice Similar to Gezerah Shavah

Expansion from the word “et” is described as an Akivan mode of interpretation that does not appear for Rabbi Ishmael, because the school of Rabbi Ishmael uses the rules of general and particular and not expansions and limitations. Doubt is raised whether they really expounded “every single et,” because “et” is an ordinary connecting word in the language, and the interpretation makes sense only where there is irregularity or redundancy that indicates it is a “candidate” for interpretation. Rabbi Akiva’s expansions are described as similar to gezerah shavah for Rabbi Ishmael, in that criteria are needed to mark when there is room for interpretive expansion.

The Dispute over “The Best”: Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Ishmael

On page 25 the dispute over “the best” is studied: whether payment is assessed according to the best land of the damager or according to the best land of the injured party, when the verse “the best of his field and the best of his vineyard he shall pay” can be interpreted either according to the field of the one paying or according to the field that was damaged. The Talmud explains Rabbi Ishmael’s reason through “field” being said below and “field” being said above, and learns from the field in “and it consumed in another man’s field” that it is the field of the injured party, so that “the best of his field” is also interpreted as the field of the injured party. Rabbi Akiva interprets it as “where he is paying,” and therefore “his field and his vineyard” belong to the one paying. The principle appears: “the gezerah shavah is effective and the verse is effective,” and the example is presented as proof that midrash and plain meaning can stand as two parallel readings that do not cancel each other out, within the framework of “a verse never departs from its plain meaning.”

Gezerah Shavah within the Same Context, Dispute, and Nachmanides

It is said that the Talmud calls Rabbi Ishmael’s derivation a gezerah shavah even though it is within the same subject and the same section, which teaches something about the essence of gezerah shavah even when it is not between distant sections. It is argued that if the gezerah shavah had been from Sinai, Rabbi Akiva would not have disputed it, and the claim of Nachmanides and his students (including Ritva) is brought that disputes in gezerot shavot show that we are not dealing with a closed Sinaitic tradition. The explanation is that if this were pure tradition, there would be no point in disputing once the tradition had been heard, unless there were a contrary tradition, and therefore the dispute hints at a space for interpretive judgment.

Partial Similarity, Judgments of Similarity, and Clarification of Meaning

It is said that we find gezerah shavah being learned even from words that are not exactly identical, such as “the school of Rabbi Ishmael taught: this is returning, this is coming,” provided that “there is nothing else similar to it,” but where there is a similar word, one uses the similar one. It is said that when one can derive a gezerah shavah from two subjects whose laws differ, one prefers a source that has more similar features from which to teach, and therefore the comparison of subjects depends on judgment about similarity. There is also a phenomenon in which the Sages make a gezerah shavah between the language of the Torah and the language of the Prophets, and this is explained as a mode of “clarification of meaning,” in which one learns linguistic meaning from parallel usage even outside the Torah. A distinction is presented between a “dictionary-like” gezerah shavah of clarification of meaning and a “legal” gezerah shavah such as “taking-taking from the field of Ephron,” and it is said that the medieval authorities (Rishonim) distinguish between the two types, and that perhaps in clarification of meaning no tradition from one’s teacher is required.

The Gezerah Shavah of “Fifteen-Fifteen” and Availability in the Portion of Emor

A difficulty is raised: how can one derive a gezerah shavah from “fifteen-fifteen,” since apparently the Torah must specify dates, and therefore the date has no special content and nothing here is “available.” A solution is proposed through comparing the portion of Bo to the portion of Emor: in Bo the time of the festival is described as the night after the fourteenth, without mentioning fifteen at all, whereas in Emor it says explicitly, “and on the fifteenth day of this month is the Festival of Matzot.” It is argued that mentioning fifteen in connection with Passover in Emor is unnecessary relative to the possibility of wording it as in Bo, and therefore it is “available” at least on one side; and in that same section it says, “on the fifteenth day of this seventh month is the Festival of Sukkot,” which creates room for the gezerah shavah of fifteen-fifteen that obligates eating on the first night of Sukkot, parallel to Passover. The content of the derivation is presented as follows: on Passover, “for seven days you shall eat matzot” is not an obligation to eat all the time, but an instruction that when one eats bread it must be matzah, and therefore an obligation for the first night is needed so that there will be an indication that the commandment has gone into effect; from there “it makes sense to learn” that on Sukkot as well, on the first night there is an obligation to eat, so that one knows the obligation has begun to take effect.

The Reason for the Verse and Halakhic Decision

It is said that explanations of this sort lead to the question of “deriving from the reason for the verse” and the limits of using a reason to determine the boundaries of Jewish law. The framework brought is the tannaitic dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon, together with the determination that in practical Jewish law we rule like Rabbi Yehuda, that one does not derive from the reason for the verse, alongside the recognition that in practice it is impossible to determine the “what” without some assumed “why” in the background. The discussion closes with the remark that the tension between purposive interpretation and literal interpretation accompanies legal decisions even when it is not stated explicitly.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] On page 25 we were basically dealing with an a fortiori inference, and after that we moved on to gezerah shavah, which is a hermeneutic rule that begins with a textual trigger and doesn’t operate only on the logical plane. But there too, as I said, like in all the hermeneutic rules, the interpreter’s reasoning is involved in the interpretation, because once you have the textual trigger, the interpreter has to decide what to do with it. So if there is a gezerah shavah between two places, then the interpreter has to decide with regard to what issue he is comparing these two places: whether with respect to this law, or another law, from direction A to B, from B to A, all kinds of things of that sort. We also saw that he said this matter depends on understanding the rules of language. He attributes to the Sages, to Hazal, some sort of deep understanding of the rules of language that helped them decide on gezerot shavot. On this point, I’m not sure I agree with him that it really is the rules of language, because the rules of language are supposed to be what governs plain-meaning interpretation, not midrash. Midrash is interpretation on a plane parallel to plain-meaning interpretation. But in a certain sense it is true, at least regarding gezerah shavah, I think it is true, and there was another point we talked about, which he also noted: gezerah shavah is not something entirely technical in the sense that if a certain word appears in one context and the same word in another context, we immediately compare. Not always. Sometimes there are pairs of similar words that we do not make a gezerah shavah between. So I mentioned that someone once wrote—someone who wrote a book on gezerah shavah, I forgot his name, forgot again, just like I forgot then too—Michael Chernick, Michael Chernick. He wrote a book on gezerah shavah that came out in Lod at some institute near the library, and there he argues that the early gezerot shavot were made on a pair of words that is unique in Scripture. Meaning, only on words that appear altogether just twice in the entire Hebrew Bible (Tanakh), and then it’s clear that we’re supposed to compare them. But ordinary pairs of words, when those words appear in other places in Scripture, that wasn’t that kind of gezerah shavah. But he also says—he does some layered analysis there, a dating of the generations of gezerot shavot—and he shows that as the generations progressed, gezerot shavot were already being made even on words that are not unique. But then, as Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel explains here, it’s not that they suddenly invented something new, because on the face of it that really seems to have no justification. If the rule is to do this only with two words that are unique, then where do the Sages get permission suddenly to do it even when that’s not the case? Either you proceed according to the rules you received at Sinai or you’re making things up. I already spoke about the relation between whether this is invention or whether it’s a tradition from Sinai, and I said it’s really both. But in this context, what Rabbi Gedaliah explains—and I think he’s completely right about this—is that this is what the Talmud means when it says the word has to be available. Meaning, there has to be some indication in these two words. It’s not just that the two words are similar; they also have to be unnecessary in some sense. Meaning, something has to give us a hint whether we are supposed to make a gezerah shavah here or not. And that hint can be either that the word is superfluous, or that it appears in some special form or another, or something like that. And that is of course a substitute for the requirement that characterized the early interpretations, that the words had to have a unique appearance in Scripture. That’s one kind of hint, but if there’s another hint that shows us that a certain pair of words should be expounded through gezerah shavah, that’s also fine. Then it becomes a natural expansion of the early gezerot shavot. Now if that’s really so, then there is room here for wisdom of language, because after all you have to check whether a certain word is superfluous, or whether it appears in an odd way when it should have appeared differently, with another word. That gives you some indication that the word was intended for interpretation. But those indications are of course based on understanding the rules of language. Meaning, you have to know whether this really is a regular appearance or an irregular appearance in biblical language.

[Speaker B] What is really the essential difference between an available word that’s used in gezerah shavah and an available word that’s used for expansion or limitation or some other interpretation, like, I don’t know, “you shall surely raise up,” for example—where…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Where you find another word in another context that is also available, let’s say, if it’s available.

[Speaker B] On both sides. But gezerah shavah works with two words and not with one word. But in terms of how far-fetched the interpretation is, it isn’t more far-fetched than just deriving something from a single word. So why did this merit inclusion in the thirteen rules and that didn’t, so to speak?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you can just ask generally about all kinds of interpretations, not specifically gezerah shavah—why they didn’t enter Rabbi Ishmael’s list of thirteen. Fine. Sefer Keritut already goes on at length about this. He discusses it and brings several explanations there. One of them, he says, is that some of the rules are aggadic interpretation, and so they weren’t included. Another group of rules wasn’t included because they are disputed. Because we know, for example, that Rabbi Ishmael’s rules didn’t include expansion—not because it doesn’t exist, but because it becomes general and particular. Rabbi Ishmael expounds by expansions and limitations, so expansions and limitations don’t enter as a separate category. Akivan interpretations, what are called Akivan interpretations, also weren’t included by Rabbi Ishmael. The third reason—he brings three reasons—the third reason is that there are interpretations that have the status of plain-meaning interpretation, that this is the plain meaning of the verse. Even though the way to reach the plain meaning is through a midrashic path, still it is basically the plain meaning of the verse. And it’s interesting to look at those interpretations and really see what makes the difference, but that’s another discussion. In any case, he goes through the rules there—by the way, he also doesn’t cover all of them—but he goes through rule by rule. He also shows many other rules; he goes through the 32 rules of Rabbi Eliezer son of Rabbi Yose the Galilean, of course, but there are more. There are more than 32. In the Talmud there are additional rules. But in principle he gives at least the direction. Those are the three possible explanations for why something didn’t enter Rabbi Ishmael’s list. Another part, I assume, is exactly the same reason Rabbi Ishmael’s rules didn’t enter Hillel’s list. It’s an elaboration of an earlier rule, meaning it is there, but in a later generation the resolution increases, so you start distinguishing between two rules that once were considered different applications of one rule, and you turn that into two separate rules. I assume that would cover the examples. So what I only wanted to say is that when he says one has to understand wisdom of language, that is also true regarding gezerah shavah, at least in the sense that you have to identify whether this word really is a candidate for interpretation, whether it appears here in a non-standard way, in an exceptional form, and then in fact you’re supposed to interpret it. Now to decide that this is so, you need to know the language, to be familiar with it. So even though gezerah shavah is not plain-meaning interpretation—because he seems to relate to it as though it were plain-meaning interpretation—on that I say I don’t agree with him. But I do agree that expertise in biblical language is required here too, not only in plain-meaning interpretation, where of course expertise is required because plain-meaning interpretation is based on linguistic analysis, but here too it is required precisely because you are doing an interpretation that is not plain meaning. So you need linguistic expertise in order to see that this is not the plain meaning. Because you have to understand how the plain meaning works in order to decide that this word does not really fit the ordinary appearance of the verse, and therefore one has to do here an interpretation that is not according to the plain meaning but rather a midrashic interpretation. Meaning, for exactly the same reason that plain-meaning interpretation requires linguistic expertise, interpretation through gezerah shavah also requires linguistic expertise. With general-particular-general, for example, I think this is less true, because general-particular-general seems to always require interpretation. There I think the trigger is much more unequivocal than a pair of words. Abarbanel writes in the introduction to his commentary on the Torah, where he talks about gezerah shavah, and he says—if we were to make gezerot shavot freely—he claims that all interpretations are merely mnemonic supports; I once quoted his words. He claims that all interpretations are just mnemonic supports. Interpretations cannot create new laws, that’s impossible, since this is so unreliable and non-univocal that it cannot be that new laws were created through interpretations. Obviously he’s wrong, but that’s what he says. Now with regard to gezerah shavah he says there, look, take gezerah shavah for example—that’s the example he gives—from this we could produce whatever we want. Just take two similar words in Scripture and load onto them whatever comparisons you want; you can do anything you want. And gezerah shavah really is very exposed to that problem, more exposed to that problem than other rules. An a fortiori inference, for example, can also have refutations. An a fortiori inference—no rule is a necessary rule. Even an a fortiori inference is not necessary; we discussed that at length. It can be refuted. But there is logic in an a fortiori inference—we understand what the logic is, and even when there is a refutation we understand why that logic fell apart. So it still operates logically. In gezerah shavah you have no logical control. If in gezerah shavah you just take two random words and make comparisons out of them, you can get wherever you want. Therefore it’s obvious that you really need some textual indications that tell you where to make a gezerah shavah. The triggers depend on availability, on identifying some irregularity in the language of the verse. True, once we identify the two words, what we do with them is a matter of reasoning, but that’s true in many areas. I’m only bringing this as a contrast to general-particular-general, for example, where you don’t need a textual trigger or textual hint. Because in general-particular-general, by definition, once you have a verse that begins in general language, moves to specific examples, and returns to general language, that itself is the trigger. You don’t need some hint that this structure here should be interpreted and another structure shouldn’t be. This structure itself is the hint. Because why does the Torah move from general language to singular examples and back to general language? That itself is the trigger. In gezerah shavah, the similarity between the words by itself means nothing. We have a language; we use words from the language. The fact that we use the same word in two contexts is no hint of anything. It’s because in both contexts we needed that word—so what does that prove? So there Gersonides is really right that without availability and all the textual hints, we could do whatever we wanted. In general-particular-general that isn’t true. And likewise with “a matter that left the general category in order to teach,” in all those things it isn’t true. Meaning, I don’t know if it’s only gezerah shavah; one would have to think through all the rules sometime, but it’s almost only gezerah shavah. And therefore it is no accident that only in gezerah shavah do we find an explicit discussion in the Talmud of what the constraints are—what pairs of words are expounded and which are not, available on one side, available on both sides. The Talmud itself deals with that. We don’t find this with the other rules. With the other rules, there is a rule, and it is supposed to be applied whenever there is a structure of general-particular-general, or a matter that was in the category and left it in order to teach, or no matter, two verses that contradict each other, everything. In all those cases, once you have what the rule describes, you’re supposed to apply the interpretive rule and derive from it. Gezerah shavah isn’t like that. In gezerah shavah, having two words is still not enough. You need some hint in order to derive the interpretation from it and draw the conclusions. And so indeed gezerah shavah, in this sense, is the symbol of textual, non-logical interpretation, of freer interpretation. By the way, that may be the reason that in gezerah shavah a person does not derive it on his own unless he received it from his teacher. Specifically gezerah shavah. What, and in the other rules not? Mistakes can’t happen? Of course mistakes can happen. In every rule mistakes can happen, because the rules are not necessary; we discussed that. Even an a fortiori inference, a general analogy, the logical rules—they too are not necessary. But in gezerah shavah there is something that seems completely arbitrary. It cannot be that we just take any two words and make comparisons; we’ll arrive at total absurdities.

[Speaker B] And here again, if you—you after all said there are rules, that the words have to be available and maybe that…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But what does available mean? Okay, that it hints that there is…

[Speaker B] here…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So you need the linguistic expertise—which is what he was talking about here—in order to understand that here the word is available or exceptional.

[Speaker B] But even in general-particular-general, it really cries out from the structure of the verse itself. What you learn from it is very…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I said—that’s true of all the rules. It’s true of all the rules. Obviously. Then you still have to decide by your own reasoning what to do with it, but first of all, deciding that an interpretation is taking place here—in that decision, I think gezerah shavah really is exceptional.

[Speaker B] Because it doesn’t cry out from the structure of a verse or verses.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The fact that there are two similar words doesn’t mean anything. We use language, okay, so what does that prove? So you need some availability, some irregularity, some alertness to irregularity in the text in order to activate the interpretation. That’s what you need the tradition from your teacher for.

[Speaker B] And what

[Speaker E] is received by tradition?

[Speaker B] That. It’s the easiest interpretation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, because you see there’s a contradiction, that’s it—now you look for a third verse and that’s all. It’s completely mechanical, seemingly. Fine? Now here—just a second—this skill he’s talking about here, that is the tradition one needs for gezerah shavah. Gezerah shavah is not that everything literally came down from Sinai and we’re all just hollow pipes. That cannot be true. I already brought that Nachmanides also writes that it’s not true. In a moment we’ll see he brings examples for this too, so it’s simple—many medieval authorities (Rishonim) write this; it can’t be true. Since there are disputes and all that, it’s obvious that people derived gezerah shavah on their own. So what does the Talmud mean when it says one does not derive it unless he received it from his teacher? “Received it from his teacher” means he received from his teacher the patterns of language in order to understand what is called available and what is not called available, and then he knows how to apply this rule of gezerah shavah. Not that the gezerah shavah itself is transmitted to you from your teacher. Fine? So on this point I think I completely agree with him, because there really is something in gezerah shavah that is different from all the other rules, and no wonder that precisely about this they said that a person does not derive it unless he received it from his teacher. By the way, I already mentioned the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot, because with an a fortiori inference it is stated explicitly that a person derives it on his own. With gezerah shavah it is stated explicitly that a person needs to receive it from his teacher. With the other rules it is not stated. So the question is whether the other rules are like an a fortiori inference or whether the other rules are like gezerah shavah. It is accepted by most medieval authorities (Rishonim) that the other rules are like an a fortiori inference—only with gezerah shavah does a person need the tradition from his teacher; all the others a person derives on his own. But there is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot about this. I don’t remember anymore who says what, but in tractate Sukkah, I think, one of them says that all the rules are like gezerah shavah, only an a fortiori inference a person derives on his own. But that’s not the accepted view among the medieval authorities (Rishonim). Most of them say that gezerah shavah is exceptional, and now we’ve explained why. Because in gezerah shavah there really is something more free, more open-ended, and you have to have some tools to understand when and how to derive it. Meaning, without that you can’t do it. And that’s what he’s talking about here.

[Speaker D] Things that aren’t connected to the thirteen rules—say, expanding every “et.” What is going on there? It’s a word you use at the end of clauses.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so we also talked about that—I think in one of the previous times too—that expanding from “et,” I also don’t think… after all, very few interpretations from “et” have remained in our hands. As the Talmud describes, that Shimon HaAmsuni would expound every “et” in the Torah, until he reached “the Lord your God shall you fear.” So it sounds as though he expounded every single “et.” “In the beginning God created et the heavens and et the earth.” And you know, yes—every such “et” he would expound. I very much doubt that he expounded every such “et.” In my opinion, there too, the expansion from “et” is similar to gezerah shavah in this sense. With Rabbi Ishmael this doesn’t appear, the expansion from “et,” because that’s an Akivan interpretation; the school of Rabbi Ishmael did not use expansions, but rather general and particular. But with Rabbi Akiva, expansion from “et” is like gezerah shavah for Rabbi Ishmael. Because when “et” is written just ordinarily, it is not right to expand from it. The “et” is there because that’s the way the language works. You write “et”—how would you write without “et”? Ben-Gurion—yes, Ben-Gurion was wrong. That’s not correct, because the language should be with “et.” “Et” is a regular word that is used, not an unnecessary word.

[Speaker C] You can understand the sentence without the “et.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You can understand it, but you could also understand it if you wrote in abbreviations. But people don’t speak that way. Meaning, in normal language we speak with “et”s.

[Speaker F] Of course, you need it, and you need it, and you need it, and you need it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So therefore with “et” as well it’s quite clear to me that the Sages had some criteria for where the “et” is unusual or out of place, and therefore there one should expand from it. What should the verse have written otherwise? And if it was written with “et,” then apparently that comes to include something. They didn’t really expound every “et” in the Torah to include something—I don’t believe that’s true. I don’t think that’s true, and that’s exactly the same point. Just like gezerah shavah for Rabbi Ishmael, Rabbi Akiva’s expansions are also like that. Okay, so now let’s read at the bottom of page 25. We also learned regarding “the best” that Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Ishmael disagreed whether assessment is according to the best land of the damager or the best land of the injured party. Yes? Whether “the best of his field and the best of his vineyard he shall pay”—the damager. So the Talmud interprets that he must pay with high-quality land: superior, average, and inferior land—he has to pay from the best, from superior land. When you pay the injured party, you pay from the best. Money or its equivalent is also called best, but among lands, you have to give the best land. Now the question is: the best land of the damager or the best land of the injured party? Suppose the inferior land of the damager is like the superior land of the injured party—so does the damager have to give his own superior land, or can he give his inferior land, which is like the superior land of the injured party? Fine? By what standard do we measure this? Now again, of course the value is the same value, there’s no issue there—you have to return the value of what you damaged. The question is only in what currency you return it: with land that is superior in this sense or land that is superior in that sense. And the Talmud explains Rabbi Ishmael’s reason: “field” is stated below and “field” is stated above. Just as the field stated above refers to the injured party, so too the field stated below refers to the injured party. Meaning, at the beginning of the matter it is written, “and it consumed in another man’s field,” meaning in the field of the injured party. Yes, from the meaning of the language: “and it consumed in another man’s field,” in someone else’s field, in the field of the injured party. Yes, the animal eats in the field of the injured party, and if so, the field stated later—“the best of his field and the best of his vineyard he shall pay”—whose field? The injured party’s. Just as above it referred to the injured party. And the Talmud continues: and Rabbi Akiva says, “the best of his field and the best of his vineyard he shall pay”—where he is paying, the field and vineyard of the one who pays, not of the injured party. Fine? You read the verse differently. Fine. Now the Talmud says: and Rabbi Ishmael says, the gezerah shavah is effective and the verse is effective. The verse really implies “the best of his field and the best of his vineyard” of the one paying, but the gezerah shavah says that just as the field above is the injured party’s, so too “the best of his field” is the injured party’s. So here you have both a gezerah shavah and the meaning of the verse, and they are opposed. Fine? So Rabbi Ishmael says: no problem—I learn something from both, both from the gezerah shavah and from the meaning of the verse. The verse is effective in a case where the damager has superior land and inferior land, and all that—it derives some other law from it. What does the meaning of the verse itself teach? Yes? This is, by the way, a very interesting point. What does it mean, “the gezerah shavah is effective and the verse is effective”? It’s the opposite. This is the field of the injured party and this is the field of the damager. That is exactly the proof that midrash is not the deeper plain meaning. Rather, midrash and plain meaning are two interpretations that are not beholden to each other; they operate by different rules. And therefore they are two interpretations, and you have to take both, each separately, and it doesn’t bother us at all that there is a contradiction between them. These are two ways of reading the verse, and one cannot challenge one from the other. You can’t ask about the midrash, wait, but that’s not the plain meaning of the verse. Of course it isn’t. If it were the plain meaning of the verse, then it would be plain meaning, not midrash.

[Speaker C] But we said that the midrash is the plain meaning.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the opposite—I brought those who say that. I don’t agree with them. The Vilna Gaon doesn’t agree with them. I’m holding on to the hem of his cloak; I don’t agree with them either. I think that midrash and plain meaning are both parallel interpretations. And there’s no point attacking the midrash by saying it doesn’t fit the plain meaning of the verse. The plain meaning of the verse is one interpretation, and midrash is another. I brought the slide and all his arguments. So from here I think this is an excellent example of that. The verse is effective and the interpretation is effective—that means precisely that verse and interpretation are two things, not that the interpretation is the explanation of the verse. If the interpretation were the deeper explanation of the verse, then what does it mean that the verse is effective and the interpretation is effective? Once there is an interpretation, then you have discovered that what you thought was the plain meaning of the verse is incorrect, and rather the interpretation is the plain meaning. No. The interpretation is on the plane of interpretation, and the plain meaning remains intact—“a verse never departs from its plain meaning.” Fine? Now, the Talmud calls Rabbi Ishmael’s derivation a gezerah shavah, even though this is not a regular gezerah shavah, since everything is within the same subject. Yes, it is in the same section. Gezerah shavah is usually two words in different sections. If it is two words in the same section itself, that is not gezerah shavah in the usual sense. This teaches us—this is Tosafot in Arakhin—it teaches us about the essence of gezerah shavah in general. Rabbi Ishmael did not receive this gezerah shavah from Sinai. Because if he had, then Rabbi Akiva would not have disputed it. There is an assumption here that if there is a tradition, Rabbi Akiva would not dispute it. Why would he not dispute it? It could be that there was a corruption in the tradition. But here that is less likely. Because if—yes, this is also a claim of Nachmanides—I brought Nachmanides and his students too, Ritva and a few of his students, who say that once disputes arose over gezerot shavot, that is a sign that gezerah shavah is not a tradition from Sinai. Simply from the fact that disputes arose in them. That is already a claim of Nachmanides. What is the idea here? If Rabbi Ishmael comes and says: look, I have a tradition that here one expounds a gezerah shavah. Now Rabbi Akiva didn’t receive that tradition. So why on earth would he dispute it? Okay, so now he’ll receive it from Rabbi Ishmael. Once it’s a tradition, there’s no point in disputing. Not that corruption in tradition is impossible—it is possible.

[Speaker F] Unless he has a tradition that here one does not expound.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. Unless he has a tradition that here one does not expound. But usually there isn’t such a tradition. The tradition says where one does expound, not where one doesn’t. Fine? Therefore it is not likely that there would be a dispute if we are talking about tradition. Because even if Rabbi Akiva did not receive this or does not think this way, once he hears it from Rabbi Ishmael, he ought to adopt it. Meaning, why dispute? But if he does dispute, that’s a sign that Rabbi Ishmael produced the interpretation on his own, and Rabbi Akiva disputes him because he doesn’t think one should expound here. And they themselves decide whether or not to expound. It’s not from their teacher. This is somewhat reminiscent—very much in today’s matters almost—of Hanukkah. There is the famous question about the schools of Shammai and Hillel: how did this strange dispute come about? Yes? I don’t know how many—100 years after they enacted the enactment, 150 years after they enacted the enactment, a dispute arises, 200, I don’t know—after they enacted this enactment of lighting candles, then the school of Hillel says increase and continue, and the school of Shammai says decrease and continue. What did their father do? Like Rabbi Ishmael. Rabbeinu Tam and Rashi. Right. But with Rabbeinu Tam and Rashi it’s not so difficult, because Rabbeinu Tam—it could be that his father did what Rashi did too. His grandfather we know what he did, but his father could also have done what Rashi did. Rabbeinu Tam disagrees with him and says: you’re wrong, I think differently. But in the enactment of the candles, this isn’t a matter of interpretive disagreement; the question is what was enacted. In interpreting the Torah you can argue—you can say my father didn’t do this, but I think my father was wrong, so I do otherwise. What’s the problem? I think—I’m allowed to disagree with my father in interpreting the Torah. But in an enactment, the question is what was enacted. It’s not connected to reasoning. The question is what was enacted. So what are they arguing about there? You know, in the responsa From Heaven—you know Rabbi Yaakov of Marvege? So he asks there, question 2 or 3 right at the beginning of the book—he used to ask dream-questions, one of the Tosafists. He asked dream-questions and got answers, like the oracle at Delphi, sort of ambiguous answers that afterward you can hang whatever you want on them, at least with a large portion of them. But he asked about the tefillin of Rabbeinu Tam and of Rashi, and they told him: as there is dispute below, so there is dispute above. You know they also found at Masada—at Masada—

[Speaker D] Yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] At Masada they found tefillin of Rabbeinu Tam—

[Speaker D] And also of Rashi.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And also of Rashi, yes. So that’s very interesting, because there it really apparently is two ancient traditions. But I’m saying again: with tefillin this isn’t problematic, because with tefillin I can disagree with my father, but with lighting candles the question is what was enacted—that’s what has to be done. What difference does it make if you disagree?

[Speaker B] It could be that it wasn’t really such a formal enactment. It’s like some people put a flag on the car and some people put a flag only in the window.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, something like that. It could be that there weren’t such… I’ll tell you more than that: I’m not at all sure there was even an enactment beforehand. If you read Maimonides in the laws of Hanukkah carefully and pay attention to his wording—is there a Maimonides here?

[Speaker C] No, no, upstairs.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Shall we bring you a Maimonides? Never mind, it’s not critical. Maimonides writes there, after he describes what happened and that they found the flask of oil and so on: because of this, the Sages of that generation enacted—something like a quotation—that these days should be days of Hallel and thanksgiving, and candles are lit during them at the entrances of the houses, and something else; and lighting the candle on them is a commandment from the words of the Sages, like reading the Megillah. Now when you look at Maimonides’ wording, it’s a little strange. What about Hallel and thanksgiving—is that not also an enactment of the Sages like reading the Megillah? Only the lighting of the candles? And also notice the shift in language. “The Sages of that generation enacted”—in the generation that won—“days of Hallel and thanksgiving. And we light candles during them.” They did not enact the lighting of the candles; we light candles. They enacted Hallel and thanksgiving. We light candles. And therefore Maimonides says at the end of the law: and lighting the candles is also a commandment of the Sages—not only the Hallel and thanksgiving, which it is obvious the Sages of that generation enacted. We light candles not because they enacted that, but who enacted it? The school of Shammai and the school of Hillel enacted it. And we light the candles, but know that this too is a commandment of the Sages, like Hallel and thanksgiving, like the reading of the Megillah. Then it’s clear why the school of Hillel and the school of Shammai disagreed. They disagreed over what to enact now, not over what our ancestors did. Our ancestors did nothing—maybe they lit one candle for a man and his household—but the level of those who beautify the commandment in the highest degree was at least enacted by the schools of Hillel and Shammai. And about that they had a dispute over what to enact; they simply disagreed about how it is proper to enact it—increase and continue or decrease and continue. That’s all. By the way, this fits of course with these claims that following the destruction—since the schools of Hillel and Shammai of course straddled the destruction. Yes, Hillel and Shammai themselves were earlier, but the schools of Hillel and Shammai already continued afterward to Usha, to Yavneh. So there, in the period of the destruction, the accepted claim is that the focus of the celebration shifted from the military victory to the miracle of the flask of oil, to the spiritual victory. Because there was no longer independence; it was already a bit irrelevant to celebrate the military victory, sovereignty, so they moved to the flask of oil, to the spiritual victory.

[Speaker C] The Talmud only relates to the flask of oil. Huh?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Talmud brings the cruse of oil, but in the prayer, for example, that’s not how it is. The fact that this appears here is very interesting in terms of how this whole thing developed. And it could very well be that with Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, that was the process. Meaning, they instituted the candle lighting because they were already around the period of the destruction, a bit after the destruction, so they now decided that candle lighting also had to be instituted in order to add the spiritual miracle in place of the military miracle, which had become more problematic to celebrate. And then they had a dispute about how to institute it: increasing and continuing, or decreasing and continuing. That’s why they argued. I remembered this because here too, I mean, how can there be a dispute if we received a tradition? Right, that’s the same question he asks here. So with Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel you have the same question, and the answer is really that there is no tradition. And here too I’ll give the same answer: the answer is, there is no tradition. It’s not true that a verbal analogy needs a tradition.

[Speaker D] But according to Maimonides, explicitly, in an explanation I once saw,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know if it’s Maimonides. I think that’s what Maimonides says, but—

[Speaker D] According to Maimonides, from what I remember, this enactment was apparently already known in the time of the Temple. On the question in “When you raise up” — why is it juxtaposed to the section of the princes? Because he was distressed — Rashi — because his mind was weakened, so the Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: yours is greater than theirs. Why? Because you prepare and light the lamps. So what’s the answer? So what if you prepare them? So Maimonides says the answer is — Maimonides adds to Rashi — that they were only at the time of the dedication of the Temple, whereas your lighting will be for all generations, even when there will no longer be a Temple. Meaning, the enactment that in the future all of us, all the Jewish people throughout the generations, will light even when there is no Temple—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Hanukkah.

[Speaker D] Hanukkah lights — that is Aaron’s consolation. When his mind was weakened — what does that say about when this was created? I’m asking: when was it created? Later there would be an enactment, Rabbi? So the enactment isn’t dependent from then — from when?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously the enactment is after Aaron, so there’s no argument about that. Aggadic midrash — so yes. But how long after Aaron? It could be at the time of the victory, and it could be, as I just said, after the destruction. I don’t know. It’s all open. In any case, it’s after Aaron.

[Speaker D] Obviously after Aaron, but the enactment was enacted after the destruction.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying, I don’t know whether it was after the destruction or at the time of the victory.

[Speaker D] But if it was already, so to speak, at the creation of the world — you’re bringing this from Maimonides — but—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If it’s aggadic midrash, then how did they console Aaron?

[Speaker D] That we would still be lighting candles to this day. And they celebrated the dedication of the Temple as a one-time event. That was the consolation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] By the way, Hanukkah really does have hints that it was more ancient, before the Hasmonean victory. The Arizal already writes this, and others too. Hanukkah — there was already such a festival, an ancient festival on Hanukkah, even before they lit candles, before the Hasmoneans. There was a connection to candles. What exactly its nature was, I don’t remember; I once read an article about it. There are several sources for this, that it was some ancient festival in that period. The dedication of the altar? There’s even some hint of this in Megillat Ta’anit, it seems to me, that in these days, from the days of Ezra the prophet?

[Speaker B] Before the Hasmonean victory.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but there’s something even earlier there. I think in Scroll of Fasting there’s some sort of hint to the matter. I don’t remember; I once read something about it. I really don’t remember anymore; I’d have to look again. There was some ancient festival there that is already mentioned before Hanukkah. Okay, but that’s just in passing. Let’s get back to this. So the claim is that since there is a dispute, that means the verbal analogy does not necessarily rest on a tradition. Because if that’s what he says, it teaches us about the essence of verbal analogy in general. Rabbi Yishmael did not receive the verbal analogy from Sinai, because if he had, Rabbi Akiva would not have disagreed. Rather, he learned from the fact that the Torah continues to use the same expression to indicate equality in content, in that same passage — which is not exactly a verbal analogy, but it’s the logic of verbal analogy. Okay? And we find that they even learned a verbal analogy from words that are not really identical. A teaching from the school of Rabbi Yishmael: “This is returning, this is coming.” They make a verbal analogy from “returning” to “coming.” But that is only where there is nothing else similar to it. But where there is something similar to it, we learn from what is similar. Right — where there is a similar word and a non-similar word, you learn from the similar word. But sometimes they make a verbal analogy even from a non-similar word, if there is no other similar word. Say there is a word that is available for derivation, and I need to make a verbal analogy with it, but I can’t find another such similar word elsewhere that is also available, or in general I can’t find another such word, or not in a context that can be compared, or something like that. Then they make a verbal analogy even from a non-similar word. Meaning, you can see that this whole business is not technical. Meaning, it’s not some clear algorithm that tells us what to do here. It’s all a matter of interpretive or homiletical judgment. And we also find that if one can learn a verbal analogy from two subjects, and the law in each is different, they prefer to learn from the one that has more similar aspects to the thing being learned. It turns out that comparing subjects by verbal analogy depends on judgment that examines how similar they are. What that really means in his whole move is that some judgment is needed here in order to decide what to derive through verbal analogy, and that is really the meaning of the tradition required for verbal analogy. When they say a person may not derive a verbal analogy unless he received it from his rabbi, the meaning is not that he received the verbal analogy itself from his rabbi, but rather the modes of thought and judgment that tell you what to compare and what not to compare, where to derive and where not to derive, and so on. And we sometimes find that the sages make a verbal analogy between the language of the Torah and the language of the Prophets. At first glance, that makes no sense. Does the Torah rely on what will later be written in the Prophets? But if you understand that verbal analogy means that the use of a certain expression indicates a certain meaning, then from a prophet’s use of that expression one can also learn the intended meaning of the use of that expression in the Torah. That is learned by way of clarifying the matter. That really is the language of the medieval authorities (Rishonim). Verbal analogies of this type are called clarifying the matter. That’s already basically in the Talmud itself, but the medieval authorities formulate it explicitly. That there are really two kinds of verbal analogies. There is a verbal analogy that is genuinely between two similar words in different contexts, and we make a comparison. And there is a verbal analogy that simply teaches me the meaning of the word. In another context the same word appears, and there I know what it means, so I say: okay, so that’s what the word means, and that’s true here too. I’m simply learning the meaning of the word; it’s not a comparison between two contexts, it’s a dictionary. Just understanding the meaning. In a regular verbal analogy, it has nothing to do with the meaning of the word. For example, “taking-taking” from the field of Ephron. “When a man takes a woman,” and “I gave the money for the field; take it from me.” So “taking-taking” teaches the law of a woman from the field of Ephron, that a woman is acquired with money. So “taking” means only with money, the Talmud says there. But what does that mean? Does it mean that the definition of the word “taking” is with money? I don’t think there’s a linguistic claim here. It’s a verbal analogy. Just as the taking done there is done with money, so too the taking done here is done with money. That’s a law.

[Speaker B] I think Tosafot rejects the possibility that this is only a lexical derivation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, and so does the Ritva. The Ritva perhaps in the end does stay with it; there is a contradiction in the Ritva. After all, that “taking-taking” appears in both places, at the beginning of tractate Kiddushin. There it is pretty clear that this is not clarifying the matter; it’s an actual verbal analogy. Meaning, it’s not that the meaning of the word “taking” is with money, but rather it is a law, that wherever “taking” is written it must be done with money. That’s not a dictionary definition. Therefore it is not clarifying the matter; it is a verbal analogy. But here, for example, “the field of the injured party” and what appears here in the same passage — this is clearly clarifying the matter and not verbal analogy. Tosafot says: what is that field being discussed? Meaning, this is not some law that I learn — just as the law is there, so too the law is here — rather I understand the meaning of the word “field”: who is this “that one” being referred to? It is that same one who appears above. So this is more clarifying the matter than verbal analogy. The medieval authorities even write that clarifying the matter may be something that does not require a tradition from one’s rabbi, unlike verbal analogy, which does require a tradition from one’s rabbi in order to derive it. Meaning, they even distinguish between these two things, which somewhat undermines his argument. Because he is trying to show that even ordinary verbal analogy has within it the logic of clarifying the matter. He is basically saying: ordinary verbal analogy has logic. What is that logic? Lexical logic, like clarifying the matter. But in the medieval authorities you see that this is not so. In the medieval authorities you see that this is treated as two different kinds of derivations. Both may perhaps be called, here and there, sometimes — and not always — verbal analogies, but they are two different types of verbal analogies. They are not the same, and they operate differently. One of them is lexical clarification of the matter, and that can be done even from the words of tradition — meaning from the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh), not only from Torah to Torah. Actual verbal analogy is done only from the Torah. What does that mean? That verbal analogy is not lexical clarification of the matter. It’s not true that it is lexical clarification of the matter. But you still do need the ways of language, what he said earlier, and that is true. The identification he makes between the two things, I don’t think he is right about.

[Speaker E] The truth is, clarifying the matter gives a bit of the feeling that it’s stronger than—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, because that’s something we do everywhere. With any text you have — if there’s a word you don’t understand, look at other places in the text where that word appears and see what it means. Once you understand what it means, that is probably what it means here too. And that is a very logical thing. So it is very plausible that clarifying the matter is not even one of Rabbi Yishmael’s thirteen hermeneutic principles at all. It’s just an interpretive rule; it’s even plain-sense interpretation, not midrash. By contrast, verbal analogy is midrash. According to Maimonides, that makes a practical difference, because derivations are rabbinic law. And if clarifying the matter is a plain-sense tool, then what comes out of clarifying the matter is not rabbinic law; it is Torah-level. Okay? That is how they learn by way of clarifying the matter that “if an ox gore him with a horn” includes even a detached horn, from what is said in the Prophets: “And Zedekiah son of Chenaanah made for himself horns of iron and said: with these you shall gore Aram.” That is the passage in tractate Bava Kamma where they learn the damages of a horn, that a detached horn as well — they learn that too by way of clarifying the matter, and they learn it from a verse in the Prophets. Right, “And Zedekiah son of Chenaanah made for himself horns of iron” is not a verse from the Torah. And still they learn the meaning of the horn with which one gores. At first glance, one could challenge what we said above, that one does not derive a verbal analogy from connective words because they do not express a special content. This somewhat contradicts the “et” that we come to include according to Rabbi Akiva. That is not a verbal analogy, but we are still grounded in a word that is a connective word. Meaning, we still derive it. But really, as I said there, I think this can only be done where the “et” is apparently superfluous or unusual or could be replaced — I don’t know exactly. There has to be some indication of where you derive from it and where you don’t. So he says that one does not derive a verbal analogy from connective words because they do not express a special content — except for the famous verbal analogy of “fifteen-fifteen” from the Festival of Matzot, from which we learn that eating on the first night in the sukkah is obligatory just as on Passover night. The Talmud in tractate Sukkah makes a verbal analogy of fifteen-fifteen from Passover to Sukkot: just as on Passover on the first night there is an obligation to eat matzah — the rest of the time there is no obligation to eat matzah, only a prohibition on eating leavened food. Meaning, if you want to eat bread, you have to eat matzah. But it’s not that there is a commandment to eat matzah; it’s just to avoid the prohibition on eating leavened food. On the first night of Passover you must eat matzah; that is the commandment of eating matzah that we perform on the Seder night. It is obligatory to eat matzah. Okay? He learns the same thing regarding Sukkot: also on Sukkot there is no obligation to eat in the sukkah — if you don’t want to eat, then don’t eat. But if you do eat, eat in the sukkah in order to avoid the prohibition of eating outside the sukkah, let’s say. The wording here assumes something a bit, but never mind — for the sake of the analogy, I’ll put it that way. But on the first night of Sukkot there is an obligation to eat an olive-bulk in the sukkah. Okay? There is an obligation to eat an olive-bulk of bread in the sukkah, and they learn this by the verbal analogy of fifteen-fifteen from Passover. Now he asks: doesn’t the Torah have to write the date of each festival? Why make a verbal analogy of fifteen-fifteen from the fact that the Torah wrote fifteen here and fifteen there? It wrote it because the date here is fifteen and the date there is fifteen. What should it write — not fifteen, should it write thirty? It has to write the real date. So how can a verbal analogy be made here? If so, apparently there is no special content here from which to derive a verbal analogy, and it is not even available for derivation. It’s not superfluous either. So there is no hint here, no reason at all to make verbal analogies from this. So why do they make a verbal analogy from it?

[Speaker G] Because “take” like a festival? Because “take” like a festival and “you shall take”?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, because there you can say: why did the Torah use “take” and not, I don’t know, “receive” or some other word. Meaning, there could be some consideration there that says we need to compare. But fifteen — what else should they say? Not fifteen, it’s fifteen. Because “taking” is not exactly self-evident—

[Speaker H] Why would it have to say “receive” when it says “take”? What happened? Why? Because in the Torah, for example, there is also this whole issue with agents — from where do we learn agency? So they take “and he shall send her from his house,” and say it should have said “and he shall divorce her,” and therefore since it says “and he shall send her,” it means one can send by means of an agent. What happened? Why did it have to say “and he shall divorce her”? Isn’t “and he shall send her” a fine word?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “And he shall send her” also teaches you agency.

[Speaker H] No, the opposite — in the language, first of all, the sages decided—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] in a very—

[Speaker H] important way that it is very important that betrothal be done through an agent.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it works in both directions. Since from “and he shall send her” we learn agency, now when the Torah — when the Holy One, blessed be He, comes to write the Torah — He has to think: if I write “and he shall send her,” they will learn agency from it. So if He did not want us to learn agency, He would have had to write “and he shall divorce her,” not “and he shall send her.” Why did He choose specifically to write “and he shall send her”? Because He really wanted us to learn agency. Do you understand? It builds itself. Do you understand?

[Speaker B] But agency is a concept that was constituted by “and he shall send her.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no — what do you mean? The concept exists. When Abraham sends Eliezer his servant, he sends him. Agency is a concept in Hebrew.

[Speaker B] “I called this man,” and therefore it says “when a man takes a woman,” because “I have given my daughter” — if one gives, the other takes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but why “when he takes” and not “when he receives,” I don’t know, or “because I have given my daughter” — if one gives—

[Speaker B] then maybe the other doesn’t give; maybe he receives. Why “takes”?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m just saying — I don’t know if that’s the consideration, but I’m saying that with “taking-taking” I could have thought — I also don’t understand the ways of language well enough — but I’m saying I could have thought there were considerations there that explain why to make a verbal analogy. But with fifteen-fifteen, what do you want them to write? They write the correct date. Right? So here there can’t be any such consideration. So what do they want? How can they make a verbal analogy from this?

[Speaker H] It all looks as though they set the goal, mark it, and then look for the biblical source — for example with this agency. One of the sages apparently decided that it was very important that one be able, perhaps, to divorce through an agent, and then he looks for the word in the Torah and finds it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not ruling that out. I’m only saying it works in a more complex way. It works in both directions. Because after he really does this, it also has justification. Because the fact that there is an alternative, and the Holy One, blessed be He, also had two alternatives before Him for how to write there, and He knew as well that I would derive agency if He wrote it one way and would not derive agency if He wrote it another way — and nevertheless He chose to write “and he shall send her” and not “and he shall divorce her” — that means that from His perspective too, apparently, I am supposed to derive this. I’m saying: I agree with what you said, I’m only saying that in the end it also comes out justified. I have no problem with the fact that people came with that kind of agenda; obviously that’s how it works, I said it. Every derivation is based on some reasoning — either prior reasoning that indeed made that law seem logical, or at least that once there is a trigger, that seems to me the most logical inclusion. There are several levels at which this can be done. But I’m saying it is not just a forced reading, as though we simply do whatever we want. In the end there is also supposed to be logic in it after I do it. So true, I come with the aim of finding a source for the law of agency, but after I find this source, it really is a source. Meaning, it’s not just “let’s inspect the source of things in the Torah.” Right, so we’re now talking about the fifteen-fifteen. In the passage “Bo,” which is the first source for the festival of Passover, we read: “This month shall be for you the beginning of months; it shall be for you the first of the months of the year. Speak to all the congregation of Israel, saying: on the tenth of this month they shall each take for themselves a lamb according to their fathers’ houses.” It is understood that the language “this month shall be for you,” etc., is not merely intended to indicate the date of Passover, but is phrased as an independent command, from which many laws are learned. “This month shall be for you” — the beginning of months, sanctification of the month, and all sorts of things like that. And further on: “And it shall be kept by you until the fourteenth day of this month, and the entire assembly of the congregation of Israel shall slaughter it in the afternoon,” etc., “and they shall eat the flesh on this night,” etc. Fifteen, the date on which the festival begins, is not mentioned here. It is mentioned that the fourteenth is the time of slaughtering the Passover sacrifice, and that on the following night it is eaten. That is what is written. It does not say fifteen. It says that on the fourteenth they slaughter the Passover sacrifice and it is eaten on the night after the slaughter, which is essentially the night of the fifteenth. Okay? And the Torah continues: “And I shall pass through the land of Egypt on this night and strike every firstborn,” etc., “and the blood shall be for you as a sign on the houses, and I shall pass over you,” etc., “and this day shall be for you a memorial, and you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord for your generations,” etc., “for seven days you shall eat matzot,” etc., “and on the first day there shall be a holy convocation, and on the seventh day there shall be a holy convocation,” etc., “on the first, on the fourteenth day of the month in the evening, you shall eat matzot.” Again — not fifteen, but the fourteenth day in the evening, right? “Until the twenty-first day of the month in the evening.” End of the quotation of the passage. It turns out that in the whole passage fifteen is never mentioned at all. Even though they are talking about the fifteenth, they do not say it; they say “on the evening of the fourteenth,” or “they shall slaughter the Passover sacrifice and on the night they shall eat it.” Meaning, there are always indirect references that lead us to the fifteenth, but the word fifteen is not written. It does not appear anywhere in the whole passage. Rather, the beginning of the festival is described as the night after the fourteenth, which is the time of offering the Passover sacrifice, and clearly that is enough to establish the time of the festival. Now in the passage “Emor” we find: “In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month in the afternoon, is Passover to the Lord. And on the fifteenth day of this month is the Festival of Matzot to the Lord; for seven days you shall eat matzot.” Why not write it the way they did in the book of Exodus? “In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month in the afternoon, is Passover to the Lord, and in the evening the Festival of Matzot to the Lord; for seven days you shall eat matzot.” No — here it says: “And on the fifteenth day is the festival to the Lord; for seven days you shall eat matzot.”

[Speaker D] And it’s not a commandment all seven days?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? No. “For seven days you shall eat matzot” means if you want to eat, not bread — only matzot. It is an implied prohibition from a positive statement, not a positive commandment. It stands out here that the mention of “and on the fifteenth” is superfluous, because it should only have said “in the evening” or “at night” is the Festival of Matzot to the Lord, as was said in the passage “Bo.” A very beautiful explanation. Meaning, it actually is true that there is an alternative. Not only is there an alternative, but in the passage “Bo” they consistently use it, only that; they do not mention the fifteenth. So if so, the fifteenth is indeed available for derivation. There is a usage here that says something here calls out for interpretation; it needs to be derived. And later in that same passage: “On the fifteenth day of this seventh month is the festival of Sukkot.” In that same passage, after they used “fifteenth” for the festival of Passover where it is superfluous — what does that mean? The sages say this: the sages come and read the passage and say, okay, apparently the “fifteen-fifteen” — why is it mentioned by Passover? In order to compare it to Sukkot. By Sukkot there was no option not to write fifteen. Right? Because there is no “on the evening of Sukkot” — it’s not like the slaughter of the Passover sacrifice, which is done on the fourteenth, so then you can say “on the fourteenth slaughter it, and in the evening eat matzot.” Okay? By Sukkot there is no such option. By Sukkot they certainly had to write fifteen. It is available on only one side, not on both sides. But since by Passover they mention the fifteenth even though in the passage “Bo” it was not mentioned at all, and this is done in the same passage, “Emor,” where later the fifteenth of Sukkot appears, the sages understand that apparently these two fifteens came in order for us to compare Passover to Sukkot. Beautiful, in my opinion.

[Speaker B] So why do you say the derivation is on a different plane from the plain meaning? This looks very much like depth of plain meaning. No, really—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, absolutely not.

[Speaker H] If they did it — fifteen means obligation also on Sukkot. Exactly, exactly.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The law that you derive from this is midrash. You don’t — if this were clarifying the matter, then you would be right. Then I would say: what is the meaning of the word fifteen? And that I learn from the word fifteen in Sukkot. But here it is a verbal analogy, not clarifying the matter. I’m saying that since here it says fifteen and there it says fifteen, then just as here there is an obligation on the first night, there too there is an obligation on the first night.

[Speaker B] The very fact that the Written Torah itself directs you to this derivation means there is a direct relation between the Written Torah—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It directs you to a derivation; that’s something else. You decided that this is the one. Like general-particular-general. The Holy One, blessed be He, Himself formulated it in a way that tells me: derive here. Obviously. But still, in the end I decide what to derive here, what to include. Therefore Maimonides, for example, calls it rabbinic law, even though there is a trigger in the text. But I decide what to derive. I could have derived something else. Okay. And maybe in another generation they would really have to derive something else. It could be that it changes between generations, depending — certainly. Therefore it still remains, according to Maimonides, rabbinic law. It’s not plain meaning. If it were clarifying the matter, then you would be completely right: that would be Torah-level. I said earlier that a derivation of clarifying the matter is, simply speaking, plain-sense interpretation; it is not midrash.

[Speaker B] But you’re using a very parallel, very mechanical language here: the Torah tells me I have to derive something, but what I derive, that’s what the sages will say. You could use slightly rounder language and say that the Torah wants you to realize some kind of link, to express a connection between Sukkot and Passover. Okay, and that’s all it demands. And you have to implement it somehow, and this is one way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I have no problem accepting that formulation as well. In some places maybe it’s like this, in some places it’s like that; it’s not necessary either. It could be that sometimes it’s this way and sometimes that way. Yes, I accept the formulation; I have no problem. Let’s pay attention to the content of this verbal analogy. By Passover it says: “For seven days you shall eat matzot.” What does it mean to eat matzot for seven days? To eat all the time for seven days? Of course not. To eat two or three times a day? That too is not written here.

[Speaker B] By Sukkot, yes… what? By Sukkot there is such a requirement to eat twice a day according to Rabbi Eliezer.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but in Jewish law we do not rule that way.

[Speaker B] True, but it’s not absurd. No, okay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In Jewish law we do not rule that way. So what — in the end, so what? It’s not written here. You are forced to say that the Torah means that whenever you eat bread, it has to be matzah. That’s the meaning: “for seven days you shall eat matzot.” That’s what you asked earlier — it sounds like a positive commandment, “for seven days you shall eat matzot.” Okay? Maybe that is indeed how Rabbi Eliezer learned it. But according to the halakhic reading: for seven days, only matzot shall you eat.

[Speaker F] You shall eat — if you eat.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. An implied prohibition from a positive statement always turns the positive into an implied prohibition by adding the word “only,” always. For example, “to a foreigner you may lend with interest.” Right? So Maimonides says it is a positive commandment to lend with interest to a foreigner. But the simple reading is not like that. The simple reading is that this is an implied prohibition from a positive statement. There is no commandment to lend with interest to a foreigner; rather, if you do lend with interest, then only to a foreigner may you lend with interest, not to a Jew. Meaning, if you lend with interest to a Jew, you not only violate the prohibition of interest, you also negate the positive commandment of “to a foreigner you may lend with interest.” But if you lend with interest to a foreigner, you are not fulfilling a positive commandment. Okay? I’m saying this aside from Maimonides. Okay? So an implied prohibition from a positive statement is always a positive statement to which, in interpretation — not actually in the text, but in interpretation — you add “only” before it. “For seven days, only matzot shall you eat.” As if to say, and not something else. Meaning, it comes to create an implied prohibition from a positive statement. It is like a doctor telling a person accustomed to white bread: you must eat only black bread. Again, he has already added the “only” here, of course, right? The idea is, he should have said: you must eat black bread. The meaning is that when you eat bread, don’t eat white but only black. But if you want, you don’t have to eat bread at all. But if you do eat, don’t eat white; eat only black. Okay? We add the “only.” The doctor should have said: you must eat black bread, not only black bread. We understand from this that it means only. But if you want not to eat bread at all, that is up to you. How do you recognize that this person has begun the diet the doctor prescribed? When he eats black bread for the first time instead of white. Right? After all, you can’t know that he started. When? How do we know he’s obeying the doctor? The first time he eats bread — if he eats black, that’s an indication that he is obeying the doctor. Therefore the Torah commands us to eat matzot for seven days instead of bread, but if we want to eat only potatoes, that’s up to us. All that is for the seven days, but on the first night eating matzah is obligatory, so that it will be known that the commandment has gone into effect. “In the evening you shall eat matzot.” Meaning, it is exactly like the first time you eat — that is obligatory. Why? Because you need to show that here you are beginning to fulfill this commandment. From then on, you may eat or you may not eat. The first time, which is the first night of Passover, or on Sukkot the same thing, you must eat, because there you need to show that you are fulfilling the commandment. If you don’t eat the whole festival… that’s the indication. So that’s fine; you’ve violated nothing and not neglected any positive commandment, everything is fine. But where is the indication that you are obeying the Holy One, blessed be He? So he says this is a kind of rationale of the verse. Meaning, on the first night, when the festival begins, give us some indication that you are obeying the doctor — meaning, obeying Him. So you have to eat. Okay?

[Speaker H] And during the seven days you also fulfill a commandment. What? And during the following seven days, do you fulfill a commandment?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no. You are only avoiding a prohibition. Yes. By the way, that’s an interesting point, because there is a dispute—

[Speaker B] The Vilna Gaon says one should recite a blessing over eating matzah on all seven days.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, right, that’s the Vilna Gaon. Fine, but we do not follow the Vilna Gaon on that. There is a dispute on the question, say, of the first night of Sukkot — this is relevant also to Passover, by the way, but on the first night of Sukkot it is clearer, because there it is really explicit in the halakhic rulings. There is a dispute about what the commandment is. Is the commandment to eat an olive-bulk of bread? Okay? Such that on Sukkot, if you eat an olive-bulk of bread, it must be in the sukkah. Or no — is the commandment to eat an olive-bulk of bread in the sukkah? Only bread-eating in the sukkah — other eating need not be in the sukkah. So are you commanded to eat in the sukkah on the first night, or are you commanded to eat bread on the first night, except that bread is eaten in the sukkah? Okay? A practical difference: it’s raining. Okay? It’s raining on the first night, and you are exempt from the sukkah; there is no sukkah. Okay? The question is whether you still need to eat bread. If the commandment is to eat bread, and if it’s raining then you’re exempt from the sukkah, then—

[Speaker H] eat bread at home.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If the commandment is to eat bread in the sukkah, then that doesn’t help. The Mishnah Berurah indeed writes that if it rains on the first night, one should eat bread in the sukkah despite the rain, even though it’s not a sukkah at all when it’s raining. That’s a strange ruling, but that is basically what his words imply. He apparently understands that the commandment is to eat in the sukkah; only eating in the sukkah means specifically bread, while something else doesn’t require a sukkah.

[Speaker H] What does eating bread have to do with the sukkah? What? If the commandment is to eat bread, what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because that is a fixed meal, an important meal.

[Speaker H] No, but why specifically in the sukkah? I can understand there is a commandment to eat on the festival. I don’t understand. No, the opposite: with the sukkah I understand there is an obligation of “you shall dwell,” but if he can simply not eat in the sukkah, then maybe he just shouldn’t eat bread.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so that’s the question. It could be that on Sukkot there is a rule, as on every festival, that on the first night one should eat an olive-bulk of bread. To establish a meal with an olive-bulk of bread. There is such an idea in honor of the festival, unrelated to sukkah. In honor of the festival — possible. Yes, it’s like that on Passover too. I said that on Passover too there is room to discuss the olive-bulk — there too there is room to ask: is this an obligatory olive-bulk of matzah, or an obligation to eat an olive-bulk of bread? Only on Passover you cannot eat other bread, only matzah, so you eat matzah. On Passover it is more plausible that it is the first option; it is harder to assume the second. But on Sukkot it is a dispute. Okay? Now I don’t know — this issue just came to mind now — because I don’t know which of the two interpretations fits what he writes here. After all, what does he write here? He writes that basically on the first night it is the beginning of the festival. There you need to show that you are obeying the command of the doctor, right, of the Holy One, blessed be He. So therefore you need to eat, because if you don’t eat, then you are still obeying, but it is not noticeable. Okay?

[Speaker C] And with that diet, when he starts eating black bread, then we’ll know he obeyed.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. And if he never eats black bread at all?

[Speaker C] No, but here if he eats bread on the eighth day?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so—

[Speaker C] it’s no longer Sukkot; Sukkot is over.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously, right. Therefore it has to be on the first night.

[Speaker C] Yes. No, so that’s different from the doctor’s command, or from what he means.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? He says the first night is the beginning of the festival. At the beginning of the festival you are commanded to show that you are obeying this commandment.

[Speaker C] But on Sukkot too, the same thing? Yes, obviously.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so I—

[Speaker C] am saying that in his example he says that when we begin to eat black bread, we’ll know you obeyed the doctor. That’s the first night. But not specifically the first night.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, obviously. But the commandment — no, no, no — the rule is—

[Speaker D] that the Torah commands you about a day and an hour. What do you want?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the rule is that whenever you begin to eat, that will be the indication. The Torah wants you to make that indication on the first night because that is the beginning of the festival. It wants that already at the beginning of the festival you show that you are obeying the will of God. Now, in any implied prohibition from a positive statement, it is hard to show that you are obeying, because maybe you simply aren’t doing it. Okay? So therefore the Torah requires you to do an act already at the beginning of the festival, which shows from the start that all festival long, even if you eat nothing at all, you are someone who obeys the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. It colors your not eating throughout the whole festival differently, even if you don’t eat the whole festival. If on the first night you already showed that you are in fact listening to that instruction, then the whole festival is colored by that. Therefore this is the rationale of the verse for why we are commanded on the first night. What I was just saying is that I don’t know which of the two formulations his explanation fits. I think you can say it according to both. I just thought of it now, so I’m thinking out loud. Because if indeed, according to what he says, the aim of the commandment is to show what? That I do not eat outside the sukkah. Not that I eat in the sukkah, right? Rather to show that I do not eat outside the sukkah. Because there is no commandment to eat in the sukkah; there is only a prohibition on eating outside the sukkah, right? After all, it is forbidden to eat outside the sukkah. When they tell me: on the first night show that you are obeying the commandment — what does that mean? That on the first night eat bread, and automatically, after all, you will have to eat it in the sukkah, and that way you show that you are not transgressing. Or no — on the first night eat in the sukkah to show that you are obeying. I think the first formulation seems to fit his idea better.

[Speaker B] Why? We said it’s specifically matzah and not bread, and in this case it happens to be matzah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so I said Passover is more unambiguous. But let’s talk about Sukkot. Fine, I’m saying that on Passover too you can say it, but that’s why I present the dilemma with Sukkot, because there it is easier for me to present the two sides. Understand? So I’m not entirely sure which of the two formulations fits his idea.

[Speaker H] What is unique about Sukkot is eating in the sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No — it’s not eating outside the sukkah.

[Speaker H] No, the seven days — you’re talking about the first night.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m asking why. Why that command on the first night — what does the command mean there?

[Speaker H] So I’m saying, if I go with the interpretation of eating bread and automatically you have to do that in the sukkah, then are you also obligated to eat bread on every festival?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. But how do you show that you are obeying the Holy One, blessed be He? The moment you eat bread, that is basically your opportunity to show that you do it in the sukkah and not outside the sukkah. The focus is basically that you are commanded to eat bread. The purpose of that eating is that the bread be an indication; we will see where you eat it. If you eat it in the sukkah, that is a sign that you obey the Holy One, blessed be He, because you did not eat outside the sukkah. Not because you ate inside the sukkah.

[Speaker H] And that’s exactly like matzah — to eat bread, and you’ll show it through the fact that you eat—

[Speaker B] matzah — that you don’t eat bread, you eat matzah. Same thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying you can formulate it that way on Passover too, but on Sukkot it is easier, I think, to present the two alternatives.

[Speaker B] In any case, if it rains, there is no commandment to eat bread at home. There wouldn’t be such a commandment, because by doing that you are not carrying out the indication. So either you are obligated to eat an olive-bulk in the sukkah even when it rains, or you are exempt from eating altogether.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that I agree with. I agree with the practical difference regarding rain. Meaning, in any case, according to his view, there is no logic at all in eating bread at home.

[Speaker B] What?

[Speaker I] According to what the Mishnah Berurah says, even if it is raining he is obligated.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, fine, so he says otherwise. Fine. From his view, according to his explanation, that’s what comes out. Yes, that I agree with, correct. On the first night, eating matzah is obligatory so that it will be known that the commandment has entered into force: “In the evening you shall eat matzot.” Similarly, the Torah said regarding Sukkot: “In sukkot you shall dwell for seven days.” A person may choose not to eat, but when he eats a fixed meal, that eating must be in the sukkah. Therefore it makes sense to learn from the verbal analogy of fifteen-fifteen, which as stated is available at least on one side. On which side? On the side of Passover, right? The fifteen of Sukkot is not available; there was no other way to write it there. But on Passover there was another possibility. So it is available on one side, that on the first night, the night of the fifteenth, there is an obligation to eat, so that it will be known that the obligation of the commandment has begun. A beautiful explanation in my opinion. The question is whether, continuing what we said earlier, one can infer a halakhic conclusion from this — that when it rains, then the Mishnah Berurah is not right. Let’s say I was persuaded by this explanation.

[Speaker E] Everything—

[Speaker B] is possible.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What he says is also possible. But if I’m persuaded that this really is the explanation, then right, the Mishnah Berurah is not right and I will not do what he says. What’s the problem?

[Speaker B] If I’m persuaded, then it is simply obvious that there really is a commandment specifically to eat matzah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Anything is possible. Now decide what seems more logical to you. In the end, you have to decide; anything is possible. So if you always want to be concerned for every possibility, fine. But if you want to decide what seems plausible to you, then if you were persuaded by this explanation — and what does the Mishnah Berurah say? That when it rains, one should still eat in the sukkah on the first night.

[Speaker H] Ah, that would come out according to this explanation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. So here I’m saying that the Mishnah Berurah is right. What? Why?

[Speaker E] Because just as on Passover he wanted to show that the commandment had gone into effect,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] so—

[Speaker E] he wanted that on Sukkot too you show that the commandment has gone into effect, so even when it rains you sit in the sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, you’re saying the opposite. You’re right.

[Speaker E] No, but then what the Rabbi says is difficult.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, I don’t agree. I think he is right — not what you said earlier. You’re right that there is no point in eating that olive-bulk of bread at home. Those who say that — according to his view that clearly makes no sense. Now as for eating in the sukkah when it rains, that is difficult in any case, regardless of these explanations. Simply because it isn’t a sukkah when rain is falling—

[Speaker H] If it rains, then there is no commandment of sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s just difficult. I’m saying, if someone already says such a thing, then it actually does fit what he’s saying, because you have to show—after all, the issue is not eating in the sukkah. There’s no intrinsic issue of eating in the sukkah; the issue is not eating outside the sukkah. Rather, you need to perform a symbolic act. On the contrary, it actually does fit. You have to show a symbolic act that demonstrates that here, yes, you are complying. So you eat in the sukkah even though it’s raining. But what are you showing by that? After all, you didn’t eat in a sukkah—this isn’t a sukkah. Obviously. But since it’s only symbolic, that’s not a problem; after all, you’re not really obligated to eat in the sukkah either. It’s all just a symbolic matter, to show something. And once it’s a symbolic matter of showing, then show it even when it’s raining. You ate in the sukkah while the gutters are underneath, inside. Fine, granted—but you’re doing it in the sukkah. There are a few categories here.

[Speaker C] First of all, there is a commandment to eat bread on the first day, on the first festival day of Sukkot. Now where do you eat the bread?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so I’m saying, if that’s the definition, then they tell you: fine, then eat at home if it’s raining.

[Speaker C] But the commandment is not to eat at home.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, according to your formulation there’s no problem. The commandment is to eat an olive-sized amount, except that on Sukkot you eat in the sukkah.

[Speaker C] Yes, no, the commandment is to eat an olive-sized amount of bread in the sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, so the commandment is about the sukkah? Fine, then of course there’s no point in eating at home.

[Speaker C] Now, you are obligated to eat bread at night.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? In the sukkah?

[Speaker C] Wait, wait—I’m saying, you are obligated to eat bread at night, and you can’t eat it at home even if it’s raining. You can’t eat it at home. You’re making formulations—you’re making two opposite formulations.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What’s the objective? What is the commandment? Is the commandment to eat bread, except that on Sukkot when you eat bread you have to do it in the sukkah? Or no—the commandment is to eat bread in the sukkah. That’s the commandment. Yes. What do you mean, yes? Yes to the first one or yes to the second?

[Speaker C] Yes, yes to that—to eat bread in the sukkah. So? Now, also, you’re not—you’re forbidden to eat outside the sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, what do you mean, you’re forbidden to eat outside the sukkah? I’m asking about the commandment, not the prohibition. The commandment is to eat bread in the sukkah. Yes. So now what’s the claim? It’s raining.

[Speaker C] If it’s raining, you’re exempt.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then obviously there’s no point in eating bread at home.

[Speaker C] Not only is there no point—you’re prohibited from eating outside the sukkah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, there’s no prohibition, because when it’s raining there’s no prohibition. What—when it’s raining you have to fast? When it’s raining you can eat outside the sukkah. But not in the sukkah. No, what are you talking about? When it’s raining, throughout the other seven days you eat at home, no problem. Once the porridge spoils, you can leave the sukkah and eat at home. You don’t have to fast on Sukkot. It’s forbidden to fast on Sukkot—not just that you don’t have to.

[Speaker D] Because of “and you shall rejoice,” and with rain he is distressed. “And you shall rejoice”—there is a commandment, “and you shall rejoice on your festival.” Right, and in the rain he is distressed.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, “distressed” is not by virtue of “and you shall rejoice on your festival.” Why? “Distressed”—and “and you shall rejoice on your festival” has on—well, that’s a question whether it applies on all seven days or only the first night, only the first day. But “distressed” is not by virtue of rejoicing; rather, it is by virtue of “you shall dwell as you normally live.” It’s unrelated. It’s specific to sukkah. What do you mean, unrelated? It makes a big practical difference if you don’t eat. It’s specific to sukkah; it has nothing to do with “and you shall rejoice on your festival.” You have to dwell in the sukkah. Now, you dwell in the sukkah in a place where it is normal and reasonable to dwell. But if it’s a place not fit for living, then there’s no point in dwelling there; that’s not called dwelling there, so you are not fulfilling “you shall dwell as you normally live.” Because of the distress. Fine, I’m saying, on this issue it’s an interesting question beyond just how one disagrees with the Mishnah Berurah or whether one disagrees. I don’t think it’s all that problematic. If I were convinced, then I would have no problem at all going against him. But this is a question of interpreting the reason for the verse. And all explanations of this type—that’s what I wanted to note here.

[Speaker E] It always comes back to that point. It always comes back.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. I’m saying all explanations of this sort always raise the question: how far can you go with deriving the reason for the verse? Do you now, for every commandment in the Torah, look for its reason and according to that decide how to act, determine its parameters? Because plainly this is a dispute among the Tannaim, between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon, and in Jewish law we rule like Rabbi Yehuda, that we do not derive the reason for the verse. Meaning, we do not do purposive interpretation, as it’s called today in the legal world; rather, interpretation is textual interpretation, let’s call it. Meaning, no—you do not look for what this is meant to achieve, what the idea behind it is, and on that basis decide. That’s good for interpreting Scripture, but in the halakhic world you do not derive the reason for the verse; you do not conduct yourself based on deriving the reasons. So now here again, even if I were convinced that he is right, I’m not sure I can use that to determine what the Jewish law is, because we do not derive the reason for the verse—not because I’m afraid to disagree with someone. Rather, the question is whether such a rationale can really suffice to determine it. On the other hand, how else would we decide? After all, we already talked about the fact that it’s pretty naive to think that we really do not take the reason for the verse into account.

[Speaker E] You always take it into account; you just don’t say so.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. The what and not the why, with Brisk—we already talked about that. Brisk asks only the what and not the why. There is no what without why; there’s no such thing. And someone who asks what—it is fed by your understanding of the why; otherwise how will you determine what the what is? How will you determine it? After all, there are several possibilities. Because you try to think what the logic of it is. Fine, but that’s always the big question of—

[Speaker G] Where it is in the background.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the question is always where this matter stops—that we do not derive the reason for the verse. Fine, let’s stop here.

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