חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם. דומה למיכי בוט.

Halakhah and Jewish Legal Theory 4

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

This transcript was produced automatically using 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] Introduction: the meaning of Choshen Mishpat and differences between obligations
  • [1:33] Yoreh De'ah versus Choshen Mishpat in interest and charity
  • [3:02] The place of theft among the three cardinal sins
  • [4:49] A new idea: the limits of halakhic consideration and authority
  • [9:10] The book example from Bnei Brak: “Do not covet”
  • [15:16] The authority of a religious court to confiscate property
  • [20:47] The king, the sages, and the authority of confiscation
  • [24:07] The rule of “do not deviate” and its implications
  • [27:45] The prohibition of murder and Jewish law as manipulation
  • [29:30] The prohibition of mixed species versus meat and milk — mixture and separation
  • [30:55] The law of a pursuer — saving a life at the cost of another life
  • [32:31] The burglar tunneling in — what is permitted on the Sabbath and the definition of a pursuer
  • [36:17] The territorial concept — internal halakhic boundaries
  • [42:54] Honoring father and mother — obedience versus freedom of choice
  • [44:00] Obeying parents and major decisions — yeshiva and officer training
  • [47:11] Beautifying a commandment — full obligation or volunteerism?

Summary

General overview

The text presents an approach according to which Choshen Mishpat is mainly a collection of rights granted to a person, whereas the other sections of the Shulchan Arukh deal mainly with obligations. It explains that some obligations are generated by the rights of another person, while other obligations stand on their own and are therefore located in Yoreh De'ah. It develops a concept of a person’s “territory” in property and body, and argues that Jewish law and halakhic considerations operate only within a person’s sphere of authority, so that there can be a halakhically correct consideration that one is forbidden to implement outside that territory, and conversely a person can be “in the wrong” within his own territory and the reckoning is with the Holy One, blessed be He. In this framework it brings together Rashi, Binyan Tzion, Rashba, Rabbi Shimon Shkop, laws of life-saving, theft, interest, charity, public authority and religious court authority, the burglar tunneling in, Pinchas and Zimri, “a person cannot render forbidden something that is not his,” and honoring parents, and suggests that these territorial limits are “meta-halakhic” and explain many phenomena both in monetary law and in the laws of prohibition and permission.

Choshen Mishpat as rights versus obligations in the sections of the Shulchan Arukh

The framework states that Choshen Mishpat is a collection of the rights of every Jew or every human being, whereas the other sections of the Shulchan Arukh deal with his obligations. The obligation to repay a loan is presented as an obligation that draws from the lender’s right to receive his money back, so that the right is the basis from which the borrower’s obligation is created. By contrast, the obligation to give charity and the prohibition of interest are presented as obligations that do not rest on a right of the other person but stand as independent obligations like other prohibitions, and therefore charity and interest are located in Yoreh De'ah rather than in Choshen Mishpat even though they deal with monetary relationships.

Territory, “a person’s property is like his body,” and saving life versus theft

The text defines a right as the idea that a person has a “territory” into which another may not enter, such as his property, his body, and what belongs to him. It explains the view of Rashi and other medieval authorities (Rishonim) that “a person’s property is like his body” and that one must be killed rather than transgress regarding theft, and notes that Binyan Tzion expands this in his responsa to all interpersonal prohibitions such as humiliating and injuring. It proposes a resolution according to which the prohibition of “do not steal” is overridden by life-saving and is not one of the three cardinal sins, but another person’s ownership right is not overridden by the attacker’s life-saving need, because life-saving overrides obligations and prohibitions imposed on the person but does not override the rights of another person. It argues that even when halakhic reasoning seemingly justifies taking something to save a life, a person has no authority to apply that reasoning within territory that is not his, and therefore it is “forbidden” and even “impossible” in the sense of authority to make a halakhic decision about another person’s property or body.

Threshold conditions for halakhic authority and the Chazon Ish example

The text argues that there are “threshold conditions” that determine where and when one may operate halakhic reasoning at all, and that Jewish law is not “the whole picture,” because it operates within a division into domains that precedes it. It illustrates this with a story about the Chazon Ish in Bnei Brak, who said that he had two options: “either transgress ‘do not steal’ and take the book for yourself, or leave the book with you and transgress ‘do not covet,’” and concludes that even if that were a correct consideration, there is still no permission to take it because the reasoning is being applied to money that is not his. It sharpens the point that the prohibition here is a question of authority, not a question of correctness, and that a person is not entitled to make decisions about another person’s territory even if the decision passes the halakhic test.

The other person’s obligation to save, “his right to be in the wrong,” and Rashba

The text states that a person who refuses to allow use of his property to save a life is “certainly not acting properly,” and that the obligation of “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” applies to him, citing Rashba’s statement that “even the money is pledged to this.” It emphasizes that this is still “his right to be in the wrong,” in the sense that his moral failing does not grant another person authority to intrude into his property in order to save himself. It adds that the Holy One, blessed be He, will reckon with the refuser, but that does not permit the injured party to make the decision in his place within territory that is not his.

Social agreement, Rabbi Shimon Shkop, and court confiscation

The text mentions that social agreement is what puts property in a person’s hands, and if social agreement determines that saving life outweighs everything else, then perhaps even another person’s territory can be removed. It emphasizes that “what a religious court declares ownerless is ownerless” allows society to confiscate property even without a life-saving need, and connects this to Rabbi Shimon Shkop, who holds that ownership itself is a determination of society and therefore society can also define that the property will no longer belong to the person. It presents organ donation from a corpse as an example of this: the reasoning that “saving life overrides desecration of the dead” may be correct, yet consent is still required because that reasoning cannot be applied to a body that does not belong to the decision-maker.

Pinchas and Zimri, Kli Chemdah, and the scope of the law of a pursuer

The text cites the Talmud in tractate Sanhedrin, according to which had Zimri turned around and killed Pinchas, “he would not be executed for it,” and presents Kli Chemdah’s question: why is Zimri exempt, if he could have “saved Pinchas through one of his limbs” simply by stopping the sin? Kli Chemdah answers that Zimri claims, “It is my right to sin,” and that the reckoning is with the Holy One, blessed be He; he is not obligated to Pinchas to stop sinning, even though Pinchas is acting correctly and even receives “an everlasting covenant of priesthood.” The text uses this to argue that the consideration of “being able to save” cannot serve as a coercive argument by Pinchas against Zimri, because the decision to stop sinning belongs to Zimri’s territory and is not within Pinchas’s authority.

The authority of the sages, Maimonides and Nachmanides, and a representative understanding

The text presents the dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides about the source of the sages’ authority: Maimonides grounds even enactments and decrees in “do not deviate,” whereas Nachmanides attacks this and raises the question of the source of authority, with Kovetz Shiurim discussing the issue and challenging the suggestions. It proposes that the usual assumption behind the discussion is mistaken, because the sages do not stand opposite the public but before it, as its representatives, and therefore when the sages determine something it is as though “I said it” through representatives, so there is no question of external coercion. On that basis it also explains the power to confiscate property: the ones who define territories are the public and its representatives, and therefore a religious court can act “above” the territorial division, while a private individual cannot penetrate another’s territory.

Non-Jewish theft, Torah-level reasoning, and the Torah’s stamp of approval

The text cites Rabbi Shimon Shkop on stealing from a non-Jew and argues that even according to the view that theft from a non-Jew is not prohibited by the Torah under “do not steal,” it is still prohibited by Torah law because the property belongs to the non-Jew and his right to his property does not disappear. It defines this as “Torah-level reasoning” and cites the Talmudic phrase, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” It adds that the Torah recognizes the divisions established by sages or by the public and gives them its “stamp of approval,” so that “do not steal” is presented as affixing a seal to the ownership structure established in the social order.

King, government, the law of the kingdom, and the absence of separation of powers

The text states that the king can confiscate property like the sages, presenting this as governmental authority and not necessarily halakhic authority, and even notes that some derive the innovation of confiscatory power from the innovation of the king. It explains that in the period of the Mishnah and the Talmud there was no longer a king, and therefore royal powers were funneled into the head of the Sanhedrin, who was from the house of David, and from here came the requirement that the head of the Sanhedrin be from the seed of the house of David. It adds that in rabbinic literature there is no systematic treatment of the separation of powers between king and religious court as appears in the homilies of the Ran, because in practice there was no monarchy in that period.

“For the sin” and entering another’s territory as a legal sin

The text raises a question about the Yom Kippur confession, “that we entered someone else’s territory,” and suggests that this is a “legal sin” that is not necessarily a formal halakhic sin, even though on top of it there is also “do not steal.” It emphasizes that even if “do not steal” does not apply in certain situations, such as coercion or according to some views regarding theft from a non-Jew, the very intrusion into another person’s territory remains a sin.

A person cannot render forbidden something that is not his, mixed species, and meat and milk

The text uses the principle “a person cannot render forbidden something that is not his” to show that territorial reasoning limits halakhic actions even when the halakhic reasoning seems “correct.” It distinguishes between mixed species, where the person’s act is what creates the prohibition through mixing and therefore he has no power to forbid another person’s item, and meat and milk, where later authorities debate whether the prohibition is created “by the mixture itself,” so that the Torah prohibits it objectively even if the person created the situation. It notes that various formulations of this appear among later authorities and mentions the responsa Avnei Nezer and Kovetz He'arot.

A pursuer over “a shekel,” exploiting Jewish law, and the burglar tunneling in

The text builds an example of a robber threatening with a gun “for the sake of a shekel” and asks whether one may kill him when one could give the shekel and thereby end the pursuit, formulating this as the distinction between “saving through one of his limbs” and “not through one of my limbs.” It argues that when a person creates an artificial situation that traps the other through halakhic rules, Jewish law “freezes itself” and does not allow cynical use of it in order to force a person to give up his rights. It then presents a view that the “burglar tunneling in” is not merely an ordinary law of a pursuer due to concern for the homeowner’s life, but expresses a right to defend property even at the price of the thief’s life, and it brings proof from the need for a verse to permit this on the Sabbath. It adds that the possibility of saying, “I just won’t defend myself and let him steal everything,” is not treated as a binding option, because the thief is the one who created the equation, and therefore his halakhic protection collapses.

Rights that lapse within the victim’s territory and the connection to bloodshed

The text suggests a conceptual symmetry according to which, just as a person has no authority to act within another’s territory, so too when a person harms the victim’s territory, his own rights vis-à-vis the victim may lapse in the sense that the obligations generated by his rights do not apply in the same way. It emphasizes that it is speaking about another person’s rights that create obligations, not merely abstract prohibitions, and presents this as a “mirror image” of the first principle. It describes this not as a principle of balancing or overriding values, but as a principle of “non-application,” meaning that the law reaches only up to the boundary of the territorial domain and no further.

Honoring father and mother as a test case for the limits of territory

The text cites two articles in Techumin, one by Rabbi Ariel and one by Rabbi Ovadia, on questions of attending a yeshiva without secular studies against the parents’ wishes and volunteering for officer training against the parents’ wishes. It presents the framework of the verse, “Each of you shall fear his mother and his father, and you shall keep My Sabbaths,” as the basis for the rule that when parents command against a commandment, one does not obey them. It argues that the methodological discussion focusing on whether this is a commandment, beautification of a commandment, or a similar halakhic status is an insufficient method, because there is a territorial limitation according to which fundamental decisions about “how to live my life” are not within the parents’ sphere of intervention. It adds a binding view regarding beautifying a commandment, according to which beautifying a commandment is a full obligation derived from “This is my God and I will glorify Him,” even though it does not prevent fulfillment of the commandment.

“From their own” in honoring parents, the story about Rabbi Chaim, and limiting the obligation in money

The text states that the Talmudic dispute over whether honoring parents is paid from one’s own funds or from theirs is decided in Jewish law as “from theirs,” and it cites the story of Rabbi Chaim, who told a yeshiva student asking about traveling by train to visit his parents, “Go on foot,” because the money was for the son’s convenience, not for the parents. It raises a difficulty from the law of spending up to one-fifth on a positive commandment and proposes that the definition that honoring parents is “from theirs” stems from a limiting principle: when parents use the law to force a transfer of money that is not actually needed, it makes no sense that they should take the son’s money. It notes that the Shulchan Arukh obligates honoring them physically, even to the point of begging from door to door, when the financial loss is a consequence of the service itself, but it does not obligate direct payment from the son’s own money.

Maharik, root 166, marriage, and the reasoning “all the more so from his property”

The text cites Maharik in root 166, as brought by the Rema in Yoreh De'ah in the laws of honoring parents, concerning a son who wishes to marry a woman and his parents object, and states that Maharik rules that he need not obey. It emphasizes that Maharik has two reasons, and that people usually ignore the first: the first reason is “all the more so from his property” — if with regard to his property he is not obligated to obey his parents, then all the more so he is not obligated to obey regarding bodily suffering and the choice of his married life; the second reason is that marriage is connected to a commandment and to the sages’ requirement of affection. It interprets the first reason as proof of an internal territorial limitation that does not depend on conflict with another commandment, but on the fact that the obligation to obey parents stops at the border of the son’s own life territory.

Privacy, the ban of Rabbenu Gershom, and Rabbi Chaim Palagi

The text is asked about looking at someone else’s emails and refers to a long responsum by Rabbi Chaim Palagi, who argues that the ban of Rabbenu Gershom does not create the prohibition but comes to reinforce several Torah prohibitions connected with reading another person’s letter. It links this to the basic principle of private territory that one may not penetrate, and emphasizes that explicit permissions are needed when the Torah allows crossing boundaries, similar to the example of the blood redeemer, where the Torah permits entry into the territory of one who killed unintentionally.

Subjective credibility, self-imposed prohibition, admission of a litigant, and dreams

The text suggests that there is also a territorial aspect in the laws of evidence through “subjective credibility,” such as self-imposed prohibition ("shavya anafshei chatikha de-isura"), and presents a dispute among later authorities as to whether this is genuine credibility regarding oneself or something akin to a vow and a newly created prohibition. It connects this to “it is in his hands” and to the Rosh’s view that “it is in his hands” is stronger than a legal presumption, and formulates the idea that where a person has control, he has credibility to determine “what the truth is” within the domain that belongs to him, whereas in the public domain objective laws of evidence apply. It also adds an explanation of “the admission of a litigant is like one hundred witnesses” as a territorial principle: an admission establishes truth regarding the obligated party himself, but “where it harms another,” he is not believed, because he cannot decide concerning the rights of someone else. It also cites a contradiction in the Talmudic discussions about dream statements and explains that subjective evidence can obligate the person himself but cannot obligate others.

Planned continuation: another territory, comparative law, and Torah study

The text concludes by saying that one further point about territory remains and will require another lecture, and after that there is a desire to move on to a comparative-law discussion about the differences between monetary law in Jewish law and in general law. He considers the order of the lectures, because continuing on Torah study might be postponed until after Shavuot if two lectures are devoted to the subject of Choshen Mishpat.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] With your permission, so that the matzot don’t fall on our heads. I spoke about the meaning of Choshen Mishpat, the four sections of the Shulchan Arukh, and within that Choshen Mishpat, and in the end, bottom line, we came to the conclusion — or I came to the conclusion, and I hope you did too — that Choshen Mishpat is basically the collection of rights granted to every Jew, or to every person, and the other sections of the Shulchan Arukh deal with his obligations. Of course, even where there are rights, corresponding obligations stand opposite them. Meaning, when I borrowed money, I have to repay the loan, so I have an obligation — repaying a debt is a commandment. I have an obligation to repay the loan, but that obligation draws from, or is based on, the lender’s right to get his money back. The lender’s right is really the basic thing, and from it the borrower’s obligation is created. By contrast, for example, the obligation to give charity, or not to return interest in the case of fixed interest, or not to take interest — those are obligations that are not based on another person’s right, but are obligations like any other obligation, such as the obligation not to eat pork, or to separate terumah, or things like that. And therefore it’s no surprise that interest and charity are located in Yoreh De'ah and not in Choshen Mishpat, even though in both of those contexts we are also apparently dealing with monetary relations between one person and another, and according to this simplistic definition we would have expected it to be in Choshen Mishpat. But it isn’t in Choshen Mishpat; it’s in Yoreh De'ah, because that obligation is not one whose foundation is another person’s right, but an obligation that stands on its own. And the concept of a right is really based on a view that says that a person has some particular territory — that’s how I defined it at the end — some territory that another person cannot enter, because these are my rights and this is my money, or my body, or whatever it may be. As a result, I explained Rashi’s view, and we saw that several other medieval authorities (Rishonim) join him, that a person’s property is like his body, and that one must be killed rather than transgress regarding theft. And Binyan Tzion expands this in several responsa — five responsa that he wrote about this — to the whole category of prohibitions between one person and another, such as humiliating, injuring, and the like. And the explanation I suggested for this matter is that the basic question really is: first of all, why is this true? There’s no source for it. Second, why isn’t it counted among the three cardinal sins? We know idolatry, sexual immorality, and bloodshed — what about theft? So the answer I suggested is that in fact the prohibition of “do not steal” is overridden by life-saving; it is not one of the three cardinal sins. The reason I am forbidden to take the other person’s property is because the property belongs to him, not because there is a prohibition of “do not steal” imposed on me. The prohibition of “do not steal” that is imposed on me is overridden by life-saving, like all the other prohibitions except for the three cardinal ones. But the fact that the prohibition of “do not steal” imposed on me is overridden has nothing to do with the other person’s right to his property. His right to his property is not overridden by my life-saving need; there is no connection. My life-saving need can override prohibitions imposed on me, or obligations imposed on me, but not the rights of someone else. And therefore, even though apparently there is no prohibition of “do not steal” on me because it is overridden, I am still forbidden to take it because that money is part of someone else’s territory. I am forbidden to invade another person’s territory. Metaphorically, one could say not just that I’m forbidden — it’s simply impossible. It isn’t my territory. I cannot make halakhic decisions about what happens inside someone else’s territory, even if those decisions are halakhically justified — and that is the important point. Meaning, in the simple, ordinary halakhic calculation, it is justified to take it. “Do not steal” is a transgression that is overridden by life-saving. I have no halakhic explanation, in the sense of principles of overriding — what is more severe than what, why am I forbidden to enter and rob someone in order to save my life? But the correct calculation that I make can be relevant — it has a sphere of application — only to territory under my control. I cannot make correct calculations, even correct ones, about someone else’s territory. And that is really the point. There is a big novelty here, and today I’ll try to illustrate it from additional angles, because what this novelty really says is that Jewish law does not operate in — meaning, the halakhic considerations that we make are not the whole picture. We can make a correct halakhic calculation, arrive at the correct conclusion in halakhic terms, and nevertheless it will be forbidden to do it. It will be forbidden to do it because there are threshold conditions that determine where and when I am allowed at all to apply halakhic reasoning. There are situations, or places, or contexts in which I am forbidden to apply halakhic reasoning at all — not because it isn’t correct; it is correct — but because it is being applied outside the relevant domain. Meaning, it simply is not relevant somewhere else. I cannot make my own halakhic calculations and make decisions about someone else’s money or someone else’s body, even if those decisions stand up to the halakhic test. Because the one who decides about his money or his body is only him. And therefore it is obvious that if we ask: is that person acting properly, the one who doesn’t agree that I should save myself with his property — meaning, he is unwilling that I damage his property even though I’m about to die — then certainly he is not acting properly. He has an obligation of “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood.” As Rashba says, “even the money is pledged to this,” okay? But that is unrelated. He has the right to be in the wrong; that has nothing to do with me. I can make decisions only about my own money. I cannot make decisions such as: because he is not acting properly, therefore I will harm his property. If he is not acting properly, the Holy One, blessed be He, will deal with him. That has nothing to do with me. I cannot go into that place; it is not relevant to my decisions. I am not the factor that decides there. And not because the decisions are incorrect — they are correct,

[Speaker B] but I’m not the factor who can make them. That’s the point. In the previous lectures we also talked about social agreement, which is what

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] gives property into a person’s hands.

[Speaker B] And if the social agreement is that the value of saving a life is greater than anything else, then that also removes this other fellow’s territory. Right, meaning, that would be a social agreement that saving life is a greater value.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Indeed, if there were such a social agreement, then it could really be that yes. But there is — what do you mean “but there is”? It depends. Where there is, there is; where there isn’t, there isn’t. No, if there were a society that says, no, I’m not willing — the person makes decisions about his own property. In general, there is also the rule that what a religious court declares ownerless is ownerless. Society can confiscate property — that’s obvious; it’s not even a novelty connected to what I’m saying. Even without my being in a life-threatening situation, society can take your property. No problem. What is the basis of the matter? Of course, this is what we discussed with Rabbi Shimon Shkop, who says that even the fact that the property is yours is really a determination of society, so by the same mouth that forbade, by the same mouth that permitted — society can also define that this property will not be yours.

[Speaker C] Yes, there’s a very important application here: organ donation from the dead, from a corpse. Right, because he doesn’t agree or something — no, here the question is whether one can do something with it. Right. And so it really is very

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] interesting, because the real question is why is it important that he agree? What difference does it make whether he agreed? I make the calculation — what happened? Desecration of the dead — fine, so saving life overrides desecration of the dead. Why do I need his agreement? We need agreement — never mind right now what the meaning of consent is while he is still alive regarding a situation after he is dead. Let’s assume such consent has meaning, because that itself is another discussion. But even if it does have meaning, why do we need consent at all? We need consent because without it I am forbidden to take. Why? After all, the prohibition is overridden — it’s the prohibition of desecrating the dead. What’s the problem? Desecration of the dead is overridden by life-saving. True, it is overridden. That reasoning is correct — not that it is not halakhically correct; it is correct. But make correct calculations about your own money, not about his money, or about your own body, but not about his body. That is exactly the point. One has to understand that there is something very, very novel here. There is some claim here that says Jewish law is not the whole picture. Jewish law operates within some division into domains that in a sense precedes it. Meaning, that division is already defined beforehand, and only then does Jewish law arrive and I begin to make decisions and see what to do. But those decisions are bounded by the definitions within which I have control — the scope of my control. I cannot go beyond that, not because the halakhic reasoning is not correct, but because I have no authority beyond that, even if the reasoning is correct. These are questions of authority, not questions of correctness. I’ll give an example that I always bring up in this context. Maybe I mentioned it once, I don’t remember, about the Chazon Ish in Bnei Brak. We were sitting around the table and saw a book that someone had, a book he had wanted for a long time. He says to him: look, I have two options — either violate “do not steal” and take the book from you, or leave the book with you and violate “do not covet.” So since in any event I’m violating a prohibition, at least let the book be with me. Now of course that is a mistake regarding the definition of “do not covet,” but let’s say there were no mistake here in the definition of “do not covet.” Let’s say it really were a correct consideration. Could I now go and take the book from him because of that? Certainly not. Why not? If the reasoning is correct — assuming the reasoning is correct, and it isn’t, but assuming that it is correct — then why not? The answer is that even correct reasoning, you do about your own money, not about my money. Meaning, the point is not that the reasoning is incorrect. The point is that the reasoning is being made about money that is not yours. You can’t — it is not within your authority. Not because the reasoning is incorrect, but because you are acting outside your domain of control, outside the reach of your control, and therefore you cannot make that kind of reasoning. Maybe another example. There is a Talmud in tractate Sanhedrin. The Talmud says that had Zimri turned around and killed Pinchas, he would not be executed for it. Yes, if Zimri had killed Pinchas under the law of a pursuer, he would be exempt. “He would not be executed for it” is a pretty minimal expression — meaning, it’s not as though he would then get called up to read the haftarah of Jonah afterward, but they would not kill him. Okay? Now the question is why. The law of a pursuer. Pinchas is pursuing him to kill him; I have the right to defend myself. So Kli Chemdah asks — yes, Rabbi Meir Dan Plotzki, a very interesting book on the weekly Torah portion, right on the border of pilpul, but there are really fascinating things there, a real pleasure, I recommend it. So he asks there at the end of Parashat Balak: why? After all, Zimri could have saved himself through one of his limbs — saved, sorry, saved Pinchas through one of his limbs. We know that under the law of a pursuer there is a rule that if I can shoot the pursuer in the leg and thereby save the pursued person, then I am forbidden to kill the pursuer. Right? The permission to kill the pursuer exists only where it is necessary in order to save the pursued person. If I can save the pursued person by injuring one limb of the pursuer, or in some other way, then there is no permission to kill the pursuer. Now here, Zimri could have saved himself and Pinchas with no problem. He simply could have stopped sinning. If he had stopped sinning, then Pinchas would not have killed him. There would of course have been no need to kill Pinchas in self-defense as the pursued party, and everything would have been wonderful. So what is the problem? What permission does he have to kill Pinchas when in fact he has a way to stop the whole thing and spare the lives of both of them — his own and Pinchas’s?

[Speaker D] But he’s exempt after the fact, exempt after the fact, not ab initio.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but why is there an exemption? Not the same thing, but then we ask there: why is there an exemption? And that is the question. True, with regard to someone who killed a pursuer when he could have saved the victim by injuring one of the pursuer’s limbs, I think most of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) say he is liable to death — meaning, that is murder. But maybe you think there is Maimonides, there is someone who really says there that he is exempt because of coercion. But let’s say according to, certainly according to, the other medieval authorities, okay? So why really is there an exemption here? So Kli Chemdah’s answer — Kli Chemdah writes this, and it is fascinating. He says: true, I can — but do I owe you anything? I want to sin. Meaning: you want to sin — you are forbidden to sin. You are forbidden to sin and he is trying to prevent it. He even receives an everlasting covenant of priesthood afterward from the Holy One, blessed be He; he gets the Chief of Staff’s commendation, so to speak, from the Holy One, blessed be He, afterward for having killed Zimri. And now Zimri says: fine, all of that is true. I am doing something very bad. The Holy One, blessed be He, will praise him for what he is doing, and nevertheless I will kill him. Why? I don’t want to stop sinning. It is my right to sin. My reckoning with the Holy One, blessed be He, whether I sin or do not sin, is a reckoning between me and Him, with the Holy One, blessed be He. To you I do not owe that I should stop sinning. And if I have now decided to sin, and I am in the wrong — like that person who does not save me with his property, he is in the wrong — but the fact that he is in the wrong does not justify my taking his money in order to save myself. My correct reasoning cannot be applied to someone else’s money. Here too, same thing: you, Pinchas, cannot build on the fact that I can save you, and therefore I am forbidden to kill you. Since that is a calculation that I make, not you. Meaning, if I decided to sin, then the Holy One, blessed be He, will reckon with me. That is my domain — of course I am in the wrong — the Holy One, blessed be He, will reckon with me. But to you I do not owe that. If I am talking here about rights and obligations, to whom am I obligated to stop sinning? Am I obligated to Pinchas to stop sinning? No. He is trying to force me to stop sinning through threat, and through the fact that I am forbidden to kill him — there is a prohibition of murder. So the Torah says there is no prohibition; you will not succeed in forcing him.

[Speaker D] Doesn’t mutual responsibility apply? Why not? All Israel are responsible for one another. And so what? So you sin, and I’m harmed by it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And therefore you have a right, so to speak, to kill me? No — well, the Torah says no, the sages say no. I don’t know; this is what is written here, that no.

[Speaker D] Why doesn’t that work in a religious court?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because here it is the same as the question you asked before. When a religious court — the fact is that a religious court, for example, can declare property ownerless. I need not die, and I am forbidden to take property. A religious court can declare property ownerless even not for the sake of saving lives. Why? So here there is a point that really deserves separate discussion, but I’ll say briefly. Usually we understand that there is a dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides about the authority of the sages. Maimonides says that even in rabbinic law, the authority comes from “do not deviate.” Even with decrees and enactments and so on, it comes from “do not deviate.” Nachmanides attacks him, and then of course the question arises — Kovetz Shiurim asks this, and others — according to Nachmanides, where does the authority of the sages come from? Why do I have to listen to them when they tell me that it is forbidden to eat chicken with milk? So there are all kinds of suggestions, and none of them really stands up. Kovetz Shiurim himself rejects almost all the possible suggestions, and remains with something that in the end I don’t really understand why it too is not included among the suggestions he rejects. But it seems to me that this question — again, I’m returning to answer you — this question is based on some assumption that I think needs to be examined. The assumption that says that the sages are standing here, and I stand opposite them, and I have to obey them — and then the question is: what is their authority over me? It is as though there is one body facing another body, and the question is what authority one body has over a person or over another body. And then one has to discuss “do not deviate,” “ask your father,” it doesn’t matter, there are various sources. But if we really understand it differently — the sages do not stand opposite me; they stand in front of me. They are my representatives. They act on my behalf. They are not standing against me and coercing me, and I have to obey them. Rather, say the whole public determined something — then we understand that each person has to abide by that determination. We agreed. Every social covenant. We all agreed, the whole public, to do something; we legislated a law, but in an Athenian way, not through representatives, rather all of us were there. Including those who were not there in Athens — the slaves and the lower castes. So what? So we all legislated it; then there is no question why one must abide by it, right? If we agreed, then obviously one must abide by it. Now my claim is that the sages are representatives of the public. They do not stand opposite the public. So the question does not arise: what is their authority over me? If they say something, what does that have to do with me — why should I obey? If they say it, then I said it. They are my representatives. It is as though the entire public said it, only through representatives rather than directly. So once the whole public agreed, there is no question why the public must abide by it, right? So here exactly I now return to this matter also regarding confiscating property. If the money is mine and someone else wants to save himself through my money, he is going outside his domain, outside his field. He cannot make decisions — even correct ones — about my money. But if the sages make a decision about property, the sages are above this whole territorial division. The sages are the representatives of the public. The public is what establishes these territories, who owns which money. And that is exactly the answer to your question as well. So if that is so…

[Speaker B] Rabbi, but in section 4 it is written that if a person knows that the religious court would rule in favor of what he wants to do, then he can also do it himself.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, obviously.

[Speaker E] Is that an objection or is that support?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not —

[Speaker B] It supports what I’m saying. Why? Because if the religious court would make the decisions, then obviously —

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If you know that the religious court would make that decision, then it doesn’t matter. If that is what the religious court thinks, then the territorial division doesn’t exist here in the first place. So what’s the problem? I can go in and take it. On the contrary, that supports what I’m saying. The claim is that this whole territorial division is subject to the court’s determination. If the religious court says not so, then there isn’t — there is no partition between me and you; I can go in and take. That is exactly the point.

[Speaker F] Sorry, what force says you can’t enter someone else’s domain?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying. Are you looking for a verse?

[Speaker F] Not a verse, but reasoning. Reasoning, reasoning. What about everything discussed in Jewish law regarding a non-Jew, our attitude toward non-Jews?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Same thing, same thing. That is exactly the novelty. I brought this last time — Rabbi Shimon Shkop, one of the examples he gives, as I mentioned last time, is regarding stealing from a non-Jew. And he says that even according to the one who says that theft from a non-Jew is not forbidden by the Torah, it is forbidden by the Torah. Because if it is not forbidden by the Torah, that means there is no prohibition of “do not steal” on it. But that money belongs to the non-Jew — how can you take it? It is his. He has a right to it. So it is not because of the prohibition of “do not steal”; it is like in a life-saving case. In a life-saving case too, there is no prohibition of “do not steal” on me when I take your money, and yet of course I am forbidden to take it because you have a right to your property — not because there is an obligation of “do not steal,” but because you have a right to your property, and that right is not overridden by my life-saving need. Rabbi Shimon Shkop says exactly the same thing explicitly about a non-Jew. And therefore really this whole discussion whether theft from a non-Jew is forbidden by Torah law or not is a formal halakhic discussion about “do not steal,” the application of “do not steal” — whether the prohibition of “do not steal” applies here. But certainly it is forbidden. Why take it? Why is it by Torah law? It is forbidden by Torah law because of Torah-level reasoning. What does that mean? Reasoning is like a verse. The Talmud says, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.”

[Speaker G] And you said earlier that what defines the divisions of property and ownership is by force of the fact that that’s what they established…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not by force of that. The sages established the divisions, and the Torah recognizes this. The sages are not necessarily the source of the authority, but the sages established the territory and were authorized by the Torah to establish the territory, and now the Torah puts its stamp of approval on it. “Do not steal,” for example, is the stamp of approval that the Torah gives to the sages’ division — or to the division of any public, by the way, not only of sages. Every public according to its legislators.

[Speaker E] Why does that belong to Torah?

[Speaker F] Say, to the government — does it have the same level as sages on this issue? Yes, yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Public representatives have… the king can expropriate property exactly like the Sages. It’s exactly the opposite. The novelty that the Sages can expropriate property—some derive it from the king, not the other way around. Essentially, the foundation is the king, not the Sages, because the king is the governing authority. This is basically governmental authority to expropriate property; it’s not halakhic authority. And therefore when a religious court has that authority, it is mainly in a place where there is no king. When there isn’t… after all, as you know, at the end of the Second Temple period, or during the Second Temple period, there were already no kings. And the presidents of the Sanhedrin were from the house of David. Why were they from the house of David? Where is there any requirement that the president of the Sanhedrin be from the house of David? Because the authority of monarchy, of secular rule, also flowed into the president of the Sanhedrin—he was the king. When there was no king, then all the authorities basically converged in one place. Whoever already had some kind of authority, the head of the Sanhedrin, also became vested with the powers of a king, and therefore he had to be descended from the house of David. And therefore many times in rabbinic literature, or in most cases in rabbinic literature, you won’t discover this separation of powers that you see, for example, in the homilies of the Ran, between the king and the religious court—that there are two legal systems—which is something only the medieval authorities invent. Meaning, in the Talmud maybe here and there there are hints, but there is no real systematic treatment of this issue. And the reason is that in the period of the Talmud and the Mishnah there was already no king. But wait, one more question. So on Yom Kippur, when we say in the confession about the sin that we… entered someone else’s territory, what is that sin? The sin is a legal sin. What do I mean? That it is forbidden to enter someone else’s territory, that you may not enter without permission. Isn’t that a halakhic sin? Not necessarily a halakhic sin. On top of that there is also “do not steal.” I’m saying even if we imagine there were no “do not steal,” as in rape or as with a gentile, according to those opinions that… it doesn’t matter, it is still a sin. You are forbidden to enter. I brought Rabbi Shimon, who says: perhaps you’ll ask why one must obey things even though there is no verse for them, though they are not written in the Torah? And I said that Rabbi Shimon, like a good Jew, answers a question with a question: and why is it that what is written in the Torah must be obeyed? Because there is a logical reason that what is written in the Torah must be observed, right? So there is also a logical reason for this.

[Speaker E] That’s a point that comes from reason, meaning the matter of the power of the public, which is a matter of authority—does it derive from the power of the public? Yes, yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The power of the public strengthens a person’s power over his property.

[Speaker E] And that’s this whole idea of the gimel, that really in principle—

[Speaker D] That the power of the public, its inheritance, is from the Torah. Not in Jewish law but from the Torah? Yes.

[Speaker E] What I don’t understand: earlier you said that basically the Sages sort of learn together with us and not against us, but we also know that “the law of the kingdom is law” also applies to a non-Jewish government imposed on us, for example. And surely we are not…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “The law of the kingdom is law” does not work like the Sages. Meaning, “the law of the kingdom is law” is authority. With the Sages it is not authority. With the Sages it is… at least that’s what I argue—it’s like when I accept something upon myself, then I have to do it; the Sages accept it on behalf of all of us as representatives of all of us. But the king has an aspect of authority, not only the aspect that he is simply acting as my representative. There are such dimensions with the king too, but that’s why there it is…

[Speaker G] “And you shall do according to all that they instruct you…”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But that is only Maimonides’ view. Maimonides’ view is that “and you shall do according to all that they instruct you” and “do not turn aside” are the basis for our obligation to obey the Sages, whether in Torah-level law—in their interpretation of the Torah—or in rabbinic law, decrees and enactments. But Nachmanides disagrees with him on this. That’s why I prefaced it earlier. Nachmanides says that decrees and enactments are not based on “do not turn aside”; he says in one place that it is merely a textual support, but it is not based on “do not turn aside,” and then the question is what it is based on.

[Speaker E] But according to Maimonides, the court really can punish, because the court can make the argument you said earlier: I don’t want to fulfill this commandment, I don’t want to fulfill “do not turn aside” from what the Sages tell you—so how can you punish? The Sages can’t do that in the name of such authority.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But whether you accepted it or don’t want it—so what? You already accepted it at Mount Sinai; you are already bound by oath. Not you individually—as part of the public, already bound by oath—you cannot now withdraw from that acceptance. Meaning, that you accepted. As for the enactment… maybe I’ll bring another example of this issue. Look, suppose someone threatens me with a gun, a mugger in the street, demanding that I give him a shekel. Okay? He’s exactly one shekel short for the bus. Give him a shekel. Now I have a shekel. The question is whether I am allowed to kill him. Yes. There is one decisive answer here. Am I allowed to kill him? What’s the problem? After all, I can save myself by wounding one of his limbs. Right? I can give him a shekel, and then he is no longer a pursuer. This is a pursuer whom ostensibly I can save by injuring one of his limbs, and therefore at first glance it seems there is no permission to kill him.

[Speaker G] Like Zimri. Right? It’s a question of principle. Because if it were a million dollars, then a person starts saying, listen… why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] My next question was going to be about a million dollars.

[Speaker G] Not true.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Which is why I’m intentionally starting with a shekel, but I can continue to a million dollars afterward.

[Speaker G] Not saving him by a limb. You’re saving him by your limb.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly.

[Speaker D] You’ll think this answer has nothing to do with Zimri. Okay. A person who puts me in such a dilemma is either completely wicked or not sane. After all, you don’t threaten someone with a gun over one shekel because you’re short on cash.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He doesn’t have it, he doesn’t. It’s just the two of us here and I’m not willing to buy the gun.

[Speaker D] He’s threatening me, meaning he is placing me in a dilemma whose starting point is already illegitimate. Right? Obviously. Morally he is corrupt. Halakhically too, obviously. How can I trust that after I give it to him he won’t kill me for the money?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine. Elijah the Prophet revealed to me that he won’t kill me. Okay? Let’s add another… he’s threatening me?

[Speaker D] Yes. Am I obligated to him? Right now?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That argument I do accept.

[Speaker D] But it has nothing to do with his substitutions.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He threatens me; I can kill him. Fine. I accept that argument, but that’s Zimri. That is exactly Zimri. It’s not a different argument. And the point is that… precisely, I think that formulation is a very successful one. I have to save him by injuring one of his limbs in order to… meaning, and then I am forbidden to kill him. But not by means of one of my limbs. Right? And therefore, if he wants from me a shekel—not something of enormous value—but I do not owe him that shekel. And if he now wants to create a situation that traps me and use Jewish law for that purpose—because what is he really doing? He is trapping me by means of Jewish law. He says: “You will give me a shekel,” okay? “And after all, you are forbidden to kill me because of the prohibition of murder.” Of course he is relying on that. Then I won’t kill him; I’ll give you a shekel. He is using Jewish law to trap me. Right? In such a case Jewish law says: stop. Meaning, I suspend it. No… nobody is going to use me in order to force someone else to violate his own rights. It somewhat recalls this notion that a person cannot prohibit something that is not his. For example—and one can definitely show, it seems to me, that at least according to some views there too this is the basic conception. There is some verse about mixed species that they bring as the source that a person cannot prohibit something that is not his. But you can see in the medieval and later authorities, and even in the Talmudic passages, that it neither begins nor ends with that verse. Rather there is some reasoning here that says: you cannot prohibit something that belongs to me. It cannot be that we give someone else control over things that are my rights. There is some sort of territorial domain here. So what do you mean? If it’s mixed species then it’s mixed species. The reality is that it is mixed species. He put his tree next to my grain, vineyard mixtures, mixed kinds… so it becomes prohibited. What can you do? That’s the reality. The Torah prohibits mixed species. Prohibits meaning they become prohibited, not only that it is forbidden to do it, but that they become prohibited. Right? So how can that be? I think that even without a verse the Sages would say this: that you cannot affect or make decisions about things that are my right. Not because of halakhic considerations. The halakhic considerations are correct. In principle it really ought to prohibit it. But you are invading outside your territory. You cannot act outside your territory, even where that halakhic act is correctly defined on the halakhic level.

[Speaker D] But why with mixed species yes and with meat and milk no? Ah, fine.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that really becomes a discussion of meat and milk. Those are later formulations. The question is whether with meat and milk I prohibited it, or whether meat and milk is prohibited inherently by the mixture. Once there is a meat-and-milk mixture, it is prohibited. In mixed species, what becomes prohibited is not the mixture. In mixed species, I prohibited it by mixing the vineyard with the grain. Now when it is the result of my action, I cannot prohibit something that is yours. But if the Torah prohibits something objective, creates some state of affairs—even if I created that state of affairs—it was not I who prohibited it, the Torah prohibited it. I merely created the state. So that is permitted. There are different formulations among the later authorities on this matter. The responsa Avnei Nezer and Kovetz He’arot, I think.

[Speaker D] But in your example, someone threatened over a shekel can wound and kills. That’s the whole story.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, if he can wound and kills, then we are back to being able to save by injuring one of his limbs, in which case it is certainly forbidden. I’m saying, however, if he cannot wound. He can kill, but he can also give a shekel and solve the problem without anything. The question is whether he is obligated to do that. So I say that in halakhic terms, certainly life does not stand against a right to one shekel, as we said earlier: “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood.” Surely I must spend money to save the life of another. Certainly if it’s just a shekel, right? But true—but all that is only where you are not artificially creating the situation. This is also connected to the law of the pursuer in general. The law of the pursuer in general essentially allows me to save one person’s life at the cost of another person’s life, which is contrary to the regular halakhic logic. Because in the regular halakhic logic, after all, there is “what makes you think?” Why should the blood of the pursued be preferable to the blood of the pursuer? Because he is being pursued? How can you save one at the cost of the other’s life? The answer is that once you created the situation that establishes the equation of either his life or my life, then there is no longer… then we are no longer willing to accept the halakhic protection of one. The halakhic protection for you collapses. And you can see this in various other contexts. For example, another example, somewhat more in the area of harming a thief—someone breaking in. I had some bitter arguments there with the whole system. I argued there that one is allowed to kill over money. And that is apparently against the Talmud, yes? After all, the Talmud says there that what permits killing the thief who breaks in is concern for the life of the homeowner. Meaning, when the homeowner defends himself, the thief will kill him, and so in effect the homeowner is in danger, and therefore he may kill the thief. So basically we’re back to the ordinary law of the pursuer. But that’s not true, it cannot be true. It cannot be true from the Talmud, and in my humble opinion not from reason either. The Talmud, for example, asks whether this law also applies on the Sabbath, and brings a verse that also—

[Speaker D] On the Sabbath too, they kill someone breaking in.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] For a pursuer there is no verse. Saving life overrides the Sabbath—what do you mean? For a pursuer they don’t bring a verse that even on the Sabbath one kills the pursuer in order to save the pursued. But for someone breaking in, yes. The Talmud says: even on the Sabbath, even on the Sabbath one is allowed to kill someone breaking in. But if this were merely the ordinary law of the pursuer, it’s saving life. Why would you need a verse for the fact that it applies on the Sabbath too?

[Speaker D] So the law of the pursuer is made of two aspects: one, my right to defend my property, and afterward the law of the pursuer. But on the Sabbath there is a principled question whether I am allowed to defend property that is not threatened by some distant fire in the house? Obviously. I am not obligated to extinguish; I am forbidden to extinguish on the Sabbath. Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that is exactly what I’m saying. Right. And that is exactly what I’m saying. And the claim that the law of the pursuer—after all, in the end, think about it—what is this argument that if I defend myself then he will kill me? Then I won’t defend myself. I’ll stay inside the room; let him take whatever he wants. That is basically what the law demanded, at least then when the law was so outrageous, and maybe a little afterward too. That is basically what the law demanded that people do: stay shut inside the house, don’t go out if you know this is going to develop into a conflict in which someone will be killed, and that’s it. Let him steal everything. Why doesn’t that option exist? No one will be endangered, everything is fine. Does this remind you of the story of the shekel? It is exactly the story of the shekel. A person says: let me take a shekel because if not I’ll kill you. The question is whether I’m allowed to kill him. So my answer is that of course I am allowed to kill him; it’s a fortiori from Zimri. So then what about someone breaking in? So why with someone breaking in do the Sages have to reach that move that he is threatening to kill me in order to permit me to kill him? The answer is that if I can save my property without killing him and without him killing me, then of course it is forbidden for me to kill him. That is obvious. So therefore what is written there is really my right to defend my property. It is just true that if that right—and usually the Sages assumed that this right would bring danger from him toward me—then automatically they permitted it. They permitted it from the outset. But the basis of that permission is not killing him or defending myself because of saving life. I am allowed to defend myself, to save my property—that is what I am allowed to do—even at the cost of the other’s life. True, if I can save my property without harming him—meaning, if I am tougher than he is and I can save my property without harming him—fine, then certainly I am forbidden to kill him. But if it will require me to kill him, then kill him.

[Speaker G] But bloodshed is one of the three transgressions for which one must be killed rather than transgress. So I understand the principle that you cannot invade someone else’s property, but when I am the one defending my house here, how is it that I can defend my property on logical grounds and override the prohibition of bloodshed?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying: the prohibition of bloodshed is a prohibition—

[Speaker G] Severe in the Torah, just as the prohibition of theft is perhaps a somewhat less severe prohibition in the Torah, but territory determines its area of application.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, it is relevant only when you have moved into the area where it applies. To come and tell me, as someone who came to defend my territory, that you may not enter someone else’s domain—why are you using that to say that you may defend yourself as against murder? It is the other side of the same coin: if someone enters my territory, then my obligations toward him do not apply, because this is my territory and here I make the decisions. I did not say one could derive one conclusion without the other, but they definitely converge—that is, they clearly reflect the same direction of thought. I’m not saying that here there is some extreme implication; true, one could argue about it. We saw that there are debates even about Rashi, yes.

[Speaker E] So that means that basically, in principle, to say that that thief entered my territory and suddenly takes hold of the rule—but I still violate “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” and I do not save him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, right. Though maybe it’s obvious: when he harmed my property, it’s not that anyone who is on my property I can do whatever I want to him. Obviously we are speaking of someone who violated my ownership of that territory, not someone who is just there. That’s simple. So basically we see that this territorial concept that I defined here is a meta-halakhic concept. It is a concept that precedes Jewish law, or actually sets its boundaries. You can call it part of Jewish law after Jewish law recognizes such a thing, but it does not emerge from a verse. Meaning, it’s not something the Torah innovated, but rather it precedes the Torah and basically limits the area in which one can make Torah considerations or halakhic considerations. And basically what this says is, as I opened with, that Jewish law is not the whole picture. There can be a correct halakhic consideration and I still will not realize it because it is not in my territory—I have no authority there. And there can be an incorrect halakhic consideration, and I still will do it, because it is inside my territory and no one else can stop me. The Holy One, blessed be He, will settle accounts with me, but no one else can force me not to do it, even though he is right.

[Speaker G] If so, I really do see the convergence of the two principles. To say both that a correct halakhic consideration does not permit me to enter another’s territory, but then to say that my territory is still something by which I can either act or am forbidden to act according to Torah prohibitions, because it is inside my territory. So if—but he—if the Torah determines for me—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] rules, but his rights do not exist in my territory.

[Speaker G] Yes, fine, but if the Torah—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] determines for me rules of prohibition and permission. No, again, I return to this: I’m talking about his rights, not my obligations. My prohibition against killing him, or my obligation to save him, is because of his rights, which generate my obligations. His rights do not exist when he is in my territory, when he violates my territory. That is the mirror image of the first principle.

[Speaker G] But according to your approach, according to the explanation of someone breaking in, with the father who cannot kill the son—in such a case the claim—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] mine is that you can simply defend yourself, and the father will not kill you. No, but that means he won’t kill you, and because of that you can’t kill him. No, but you can defend yourself. No, you can save the money even without that, because he won’t kill you in any case. It has nothing to do with breaking in. Right, that’s the claim. Now that is a novelty. Because for example, if the father comes, I don’t know, with some tractor and I have no ability to stop the tractor, he won’t kill me at all, he’ll just come, take it, and leave. Okay? He’s stronger than I am or something like that. I know he won’t kill me. What happens in such a case? That’s an interesting question. I tend to think that in such a case one still may kill. That is one of the implications. Wait—but the prohibition against killing does not derive from the other person’s rights.

[Speaker G] Ah, also? This is monetary law—is the prohibition against killing not monetary law?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean?

[Speaker G] I’m forbidden to kill—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] him because I’m forbidden to kill him—is that monetary law? No, no, it is monetary law too. Monetary law. Not in the sense that he sues for it. On that we spoke: for example, the murder victim cannot waive the murderer’s offense, as Maimonides writes, or in criminal law as in Israeli law, the victim is not the plaintiff—the state is the plaintiff. But yes, the state is granting a right to the other person here; meaning, in the end you may not harm him. When a person exploits the fact that he cannot be harmed, we are not going to grant him that protection. There is a kind of freezing here. Jewish law is not willing for you to make cynical use of Jewish law in order to do whatever your heart desires. It says: if that’s what you are doing, then I freeze it.

[Speaker G] But if that’s what you’re saying, then the mirror image here doesn’t work out. Because earlier you said regarding the reverse, that for example, even if “do not steal” was permitted to me or pushed aside, that still would not permit me on the side of the reasoning of the other person’s territory. Now say the reverse here: if murder also contains the right of the other party, but it also contains a plain prohibition—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] then it—

[Speaker G] that from the standpoint—that from the standpoint of the absence of the other party’s right—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ve returned to what I said earlier. I agree that the second law is not a necessary outgrowth of the first. I do think it is the other side of the coin; it converges. Why? Because just as we determine that in that domain I have no rights, I cannot take his money to save myself, so likewise in my domain you have no rights, including your right that I not harm you.

[Speaker G] But there is still the prohibition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, there is no prohibition, because if you have no rights then I have no prohibition.

[Speaker G] When you said that here, I said yes—there are two aspects here. It’s also monetary law, but it’s also ritual law.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Well, okay.

[Speaker G] So on the monetary-law side, true, but not on the side of—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Your right lapses because you are in my territory. My obligation lapses because the Torah is not willing for you to use the obligations it imposes on me in order to protect yourself while doing whatever you want—that’s a different consideration. Yes, I’m saying: the consideration of your right is because in my territory you have no rights. The consideration of my obligation is because the Torah is not willing to serve as a tool to dig with, yes? For someone who exploits it. In fact, these are situations we experience every day. After all, what was the claim surrounding the Dromi law? Why was that situation so infuriating? To me it’s infuriating; in my way of thinking I’m American. As far as I’m concerned, someone who is in my territory should get a bullet in the head. That’s all. If he is there, let him get the bullet, and if not, he shouldn’t come in. Now why is that so infuriating? And Jewish law infuriated me in the same way, which is why I got involved in that topic. Because what really happens here is that my insistence on the prohibition of murder enables someone else to exploit that and do whatever he wants. He can come with a truck and his friends, load up my whole farm, and drive home. He knows I’m forbidden to kill him. He can do that to me while I stand there and look at him like this; he’ll come with all his buddies and the truck, load up my whole farm, and drive home. Does that sound reasonable? It’s simply not logical. Now again, it’s not logical, but it has to be put into patterns of Jewish law. So that’s what I’m saying: there is something here that has halakhic authorization even though it doesn’t fit into the regular patterns of Jewish law. And that is the novelty here. Territorial considerations are a weakened type of halakhic limit. Not… it’s not… let’s put it this way: we know things like a positive commandment overrides a prohibition, or any overriding principle—saving life overrides the Sabbath, and all sorts of things like that. Here it is not a principle of overriding; it is a principle of non-application. It is a limitation from within, not from without. Meaning, when a positive commandment overrides a prohibition, then the prohibition fails to limit the positive commandment or the positive commandment limits the prohibition—they clash, and the question is which one wins, yes? There is some boundary of conflict here. Here nothing clashes with anything. From the outset, the law reaches only this far. The law is inherently limited and reaches only up to the boundary of my territorial domain. Meaning, this is a limitation that lies within the law, not one imposed by another law. Therefore there is no other verse that will tell me that here it does not apply. There isn’t. It follows from the definitions of this very verse itself. We know by reason that the parameters of this verse are relevant only up to this boundary. That’s it; beyond that, no. Now I want to bring another example where I think you can see this very nicely, and that is honoring father and mother. On honoring father and mother there are two articles, both published in Techumin. One is by Rabbi Ariel, Yaakov Ariel, and the second is by Rabbi Ovadia. Rabbi Ovadia discusses the question of what happens if a child wants to go study in what he calls a holy yeshiva, meaning a yeshiva without secular studies, and the parents want him to go to a yeshiva high school, Heaven forbid. So the question is whether the child is obligated to obey the parents or not. And the question Rabbi Ariel dealt with was the question of volunteering for officer training. Meaning, a child wants to sign on for extended army service, volunteer for officer training, and the parents do not want that. They say: we want you at home after three years of service, enough, we can’t… we don’t want you to go for another year of extended service. Is the child obligated to obey them, or can he volunteer for officer training against their will? Now the common denominator of these two discussions is that both begin from “Every man shall fear his mother and his father, and keep My Sabbaths,” where the Talmud says that when there is a clash between God’s command and the parents’ command, then the obligation to obey the parents is nullified, right? When the parents tell you to desecrate the Sabbath, you need not obey them. And that in itself is an interesting discussion—maybe we’ll do it sometime—how exactly to understand that. There is a very interesting logic here, or several very interesting logics, as to how one reaches that conclusion. But that is the assumption. Where the parents tell you not to perform a commandment or to commit a transgression, you need not obey them. Now they begin to discuss the halakhic status of going to a yeshiva without secular studies, or the halakhic status of serving as an officer in the army. Is this a commandment? Enhancement of a commandment? How exactly do you define it on the halakhic level? And then, based on that, another discussion: whether, for example, enhancement of a commandment is also included in this category, such that if the parents tell me not to do it, I need not obey them. Another discussion—and by the way, this is somewhat parenthetical—an interesting note. Among the later authorities, perhaps also among the earlier authorities, I don’t remember, but certainly among the later authorities and definitely in the broader public, there is some notion that enhancing a commandment is something voluntary, something you volunteer for. If you want, do it; if you don’t want to, less good, but it’s not terrible, nothing happened. In my humble opinion, that is an incorrect notion. Enhancing a commandment is a full-fledged obligation. It is a full-fledged obligation learned from “This is my God and I will glorify Him”—beautify yourself before Him in commandments. But what causes confusion here is that enhancement does not invalidate the commandment. It’s similar to those who say that since blue dye does not invalidate the white, they think blue dye is voluntary. Blue dye is not voluntary; it is a full obligation. It is a positive commandment for one who has blue dye available, of course, yes? Again, I’m not getting into the question of identifying the blue dye right now, but assuming there is agreed-upon or known blue dye, then there is a full obligation to put on blue dye. The fact that the blue dye does not invalidate the white simply means that if you put on the white, you still have a commandment and you did not lose it because the blue dye is absent, but you certainly did lose the commandment of blue dye. The blue dye does not invalidate the white, but the blue dye does invalidate the blue dye. Meaning, if you did not put on blue dye, then you did not fulfill the commandment of blue dye; blue dye is not a voluntary matter.

[Speaker E] If we say that enhancement of a commandment is not voluntary, then it’s no longer enhancement of a commandment, it’s part of the commandment?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It is a commandment to enhance, but not the commandment of sukkah, not the commandment of the etrog, not a commandment… why? It is a commandment—a commandment to enhance the other commandments. By the way, that is one of the reasons it is apparently not counted, just as a half-measure is not counted. It is not counted because it is a rule that applies to the whole body of commandments, and therefore it is not counted; it is perceived as part of the other commandments to which it refers. Therefore it is in fact not counted, even though in my humble opinion it is indeed an obligation. And they discuss it, and the Talmud in tractate Bava Kamma discusses there up to one-third from within, from without; if it is an obligation, then it’s a bit… the discussion is somewhat problematic. You can say it applies when there is a non-obligatory commandment, but that is forced. Simply speaking, it is a full commandment. Fine, but that is just a parenthesis—let’s close the parenthesis. Returning to our matter. So he says: the question is whether enhancement of a commandment also enters the category of “Every man shall fear his mother and his father, and keep My Sabbaths,” or not. And they reach their conclusion; at the moment the exact line of argument and the conclusions and arguments are not what matter to me.

[Speaker B] Is this the Rashba in Tosafot HaRosh? Yes, fine. Yes, yes, I didn’t get into it too much—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not getting into those details. Obviously it depends on the dispute there between Tosafot and the Rashba in tractate Yevamot and many other things. But I only want to raise one aspect here. My claim is that this discussion is being conducted with the wrong method—that’s what I think. Meaning, the question of whether I must obey my parents does not necessarily depend on my decision as to what the halakhic status is of the act I am doing—a commandment, enhancement of a commandment, all sorts of things like that. One can, or at least not necessarily—one can discuss it from that angle too. But there is another principle that limits the duty to obey parents, and that is a territorial principle. A territorial principle that says—and perhaps, by the way, this is connected to the Rashba himself; this itself may be the Rashba—but again, I don’t want to get into what—

[Speaker D] he would say and what he would not agree to, yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I say: this territorial principle basically says—and again, there is no source for this from any verse, it is reason. And therefore this is what is common to all territorial principles: that we understand by reason that there is a certain domain beyond which the halakhic obligation is not valid, even though there is no hint of this in the Torah. The obligation itself does not hint to us that it is limited in some sense; nothing else from outside limits it, but it is clear to me that it cannot apply beyond that. So again, I’ll just finish the point here: the claim is basically that when a person chooses how to live his life, the parents cannot interfere in his life.

[Speaker H] So what about this realism these people are talking about here, and on this question sheet?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Apparently they accepted that idea. So what are they really saying? No, I think they understood that this is a question that has to be discussed in terms of commandments. Meaning, the question whether it is a commandment or not a commandment is what determines whether I am obligated to obey my parents. I am raising here another possibility that they probably did not accept, I think—or at least did not raise.

[Speaker B] I think their question was: if I am now neutral, so to speak, and I say there are two possibilities—either I will be righteous and listen to my parents, or I will be—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] righteous and perform enhancement of a commandment… then you shouldn’t have written it that way if we’re talking about an ultimatum. Meaning, I don’t think they did it like that…

[Speaker B] First I need to—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] decide, I understand. But I’m saying: you have to state it in advance. If that really is the way you want to live your life, then there’s nothing to discuss. If not, and you’re only wondering in general, then we begin to discuss. So I think some kind of introduction was needed here. Fine, but it doesn’t matter—I’m not getting into the question of what their position was right now; I’m expressing my own position. Does everyone agree? Great. If not, fine. So what is it? The claim is that there can actually be some limitation from within, not from without. Meaning, not because of something external—there is a commandment opposing honoring parents that stops it. That is usually how we perceive halakhic limitations: there is some other halakhic value that clashes with this value and stops it. But if we understand that there are also limitations of another type—territorial limitations, limitations that say there is something, some domain of a person, into which someone else may not interfere, even if at the formal halakhic level that other person has the right to—still he may not interfere—then that means we are moving to an entirely different plane of discussion. This child or this young man cares very much about going to a yeshiva without secular studies. He has decided that this is how he will live his life. He is already thirteen years old, and this is what he has decided to do. I am currently ignoring the fact that the parents are also supporting him and so on—there are other considerations here that need discussion—but let us assume for the sake of discussion that he is independent. So he has decided to live his life this way; this is how he chose to serve God. That is a substantive decision. It is not an incidental decision, not some little nuance like bring me a cup of water or buy me a Coke or make coffee. There is a substantive decision here about how I live my life. In such a situation it may be that there is no obligation to obey parents because of a limitation from within, not from without. The obligation to obey parents does not extend into the area in which I decide how to live my life. And according to all these attempts, even if I am doing something prohibited—say—

[Speaker D] if I—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] decide to become a priest, then at that level it’s the same idea. Although it’s hard for me to see how Jewish law recognizes your right to become a priest, but yes, the same thing. It doesn’t recognize it—it’s forbidden. It’s the same as Zimri, right, the same as Zimri. Zimri was speared there; Jewish law does not recognize his right, but on the other hand it also says: you, Pinchas, are not his master. Meaning, he owes you nothing. Right, and therefore all those rulings—

[Speaker E] In matchmaking, the son certainly can go against his parents’ wishes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, that is the Maharik; I’ll bring that in a moment. That is basically the Maharik.

[Speaker H] How can parents prevent a child from doing something he wants to do?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The commandment of honoring parents—what do you mean?

[Speaker H] How can they prevent him from doing it? They can’t.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They support him. Yes, they can stop supporting him. And he also isn’t obligated—they also are not obligated to support him if he goes against their path. Fine, so that, I’m saying, is a power game; both sides have power in a power game. Usually the parents have more power. But fine, that is another discussion—that’s already a practical discussion. I’m saying on the conceptual level, I’m trying to illustrate here another kind of halakhic limitation, what I called territorial limitations. Now, where do we see these things? There are several laws where you see these things. For example, there is a dispute in the Talmud whether I have to honor my parents with my own money or with theirs. And in practice we rule that it is with theirs. You know the famous story about Rabbi Chaim where a yeshiva student came to ask Rabbi Chaim whether he had to travel to his parents, because the train from the yeshiva to visit home cost a lot of money. Rabbi Chaim told him: what do you mean, of course you don’t have to—go on foot. What he is telling him is that you are spending the money for your own convenience, not for your parents. So don’t tell me stories that you are spending the money for honoring parents. You can walk if you want. If you want to travel by train, the money you are spending is for you, not for them. What do you want? In any case, the conclusion is that the obligation to honor parents comes from their money. Now at first glance that is strange in halakhic terms. Because if there is a positive commandment of honoring parents, for a positive commandment one must spend up to one-fifth of one’s assets. Now I’m not talking about a situation where the parents are needy, because then certainly there is an obligation under the laws of charity; parents even take precedence under the laws of charity. But if we’re speaking of parents who are not needy, they are just stingy, and they want you to support them—not honor of parents—then a person must spend up to one-fifth on a positive commandment. So why here is it from theirs and not from his? And again, it seems to me that the answer is that the assumption is that once the parents do not really need the money and are simply using the law of honoring parents to force me to support them from my own money, there is no logic in their taking my money when they themselves have it. And therefore I limit the parents’ right, or my obligation to honor them, up to the point of money. It does not reach money.

[Speaker E] Even though—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] in halakhic terms I am supposed to spend one-fifth on a positive commandment. This is a limitation from within, not from without. From within, not from without. Perhaps that itself is the reason why it comes first, maybe, because here too there is the commandment of honoring father and mother. Fine. In any case, I mentioned earlier the Maharik in responsum 166, brought also in the Rema in Yoreh De’ah, the laws of honoring father and mother. The Maharik speaks there about a son who wants to marry a woman and the parents tell him they don’t want him to marry her—they don’t want him to marry her. So the Maharik says that he need not obey them, and he gives two reasons there, and everyone cites this Maharik and, in my humble opinion, ignores his first reason—at least in the places I remember at the moment where they cite it. He has two reasons. One reason is that this is no worse than his money. Meaning, if with my money I am not obligated to honor my parents, then certainly I am not obligated to honor them with suffering in my own person, as he says—to live with a woman I don’t want to live with, or not to live with a woman I do want to live with—and therefore it is clear that I need not obey them. A second reason, says the Maharik besides that, is that the commandment to marry a woman is a commandment, and the Sages already insisted that there be affection between them—“it is better to do a commandment oneself than through an agent,” and all sorts of things like that. And this is a question, because the commandment to marry a woman is really more procreation than marrying a woman; this is a question of halakhic definition, how exactly that stands. But that is the second reason. The first reason is an a fortiori argument from his money. Now what is this a fortiori argument from his money? Clearly behind it sits some conception saying that if I choose to live with a certain woman, that is my choice, and the parents cannot tell me not to live with her, because that is an invasion of my territory. And again, there is no… the second reason says this is a limitation from without: there is a commandment on me to marry a woman and to love her and so on, and if the parents want to prevent me from doing that, then there is a clash here and the parents’ command does not apply here. The first reason of the Maharik is a reason of limitation from within, from inside. There is no external principle stopping the obligation to obey parents. The obligation to obey parents simply stops on its own; it reaches this far. There is nothing outside stopping it. There is no opposing halakhic value. Okay? There is simply an internal limitation here, from within.

[Speaker D] Excuse me, Rabbi—essentially, is there an obligation to obey parents?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is an obligation, but it is not defined… no, no, this is connected to the Rashba and to Tosafot; it is a dispute among the medieval authorities, a dispute among the medieval authorities.

[Speaker D] In practical Jewish law today, if my father tells me to go somewhere now, do I go?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s talking now—the Shulchan Arukh says, before the Shulchan Arukh says that there is a Torah scholar who wants to go somewhere to marry a woman, and he says she’s not from our family, so he says to overlook them. So that is exactly what you said, right, exactly. Therefore, the claim is basically that there is some limitation here that comes from this law of honoring parents itself, and not from some other value that clashes with honoring parents and stops it. By the way, the Shulchan Arukh itself says that although I do not have to honor my parents with my own money, I do have to do so with my own person—even to the point of going door to door begging, even if I myself end up having to beg. I lose my livelihood because I am working for my parents. Meaning, once again, we see that the fact that I lose money does not override the Jewish law; I can lose money. I am not obligated to pay them out of my own pocket. If I fulfill my obligation toward them, I work for them, and somehow I end up in financial difficulty—fine, then I ended up there. I did not give them my money, they did not infringe on my rights. In the end it only turns out that I lost money or do not have enough money, and that, the Shulchan Arukh says, one does have to do. So there is a whole series of cases—and in the laws of honoring parents you can see this in other places too, by the way—I think that there this appears very clearly.

[Speaker F] What does the Rabbi say about looking at someone else’s emails at work? What, someone else’s at work? On his computer or on the employee’s? On the computer of the person who has the emails.

[Speaker G] Wait, but these are things he doesn’t need, so he doesn’t need to write? There is a responsum by Rabbi Chaim Palachi, there is a policy of CEOs or… No, that’s a different discussion. That’s a different discussion.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m talking right now about the same status: two employees, one with regard to the other, or just someone with regard to his friend.

[Speaker G] So there is a responsum—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —by Rabbi Chaim Palachi, a long responsum, where he says that the ban of Rabbenu Gershom is not the law in the period of the medieval authorities (Rishonim); he lists several Torah-level prohibitions involved in looking at someone else’s letter. He only claims that Rabbenu Gershom placed a ban on the fulfillment of these commandments, of these prohibitions, but there is an outright prohibition here—that is what he argues in several places. It is a very interesting responsum; maybe it is worth talking about. Yes.

[Speaker I] Everything we have said now stems from the reasoning we gave, that my territory is my territory and you are forbidden—you are forbidden to penetrate my territory. Now it could be that there can also be reasoning that says: in certain cases the Torah does permit you.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You need explicit permission, but you need permission. Obviously, the Torah can permit it, that is clear, but you need explicit permission from the Torah for that.

[Speaker I] So then you can come and say regarding parents: just as there is reasoning that really says parents are forbidden—that this side of it is that parents are forbidden to penetrate the child’s territory—so too I will say some reasoning from the other side. If it is for the child—I mean, I am taking the example of blood redemption. In the end, no matter what I did, I committed manslaughter unintentionally. You come out saying it is still my territory, but the Torah permits you in this case to come and enter my territory.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course, that is permission. Therefore, though, you need explicit permission from the Torah for that—that is exactly the point. When the Torah permits, there is a verse, and then the verse says: here I do permit crossing the boundary of the territory. But you need a verse for that. In contrast, we create the limitations without verses. All the limitations I talked about here are limitations that arise without verses, and even without any clash with some external value—just from understanding how far the halakhic obligation itself extends. There may be—and this too is a topic for a lesson in itself, I will say it briefly—there is a certain kind, you can see different facets of these territorial considerations. There is, for example, a kind of—it is not exactly the same thing, but I think it illustrates something of this idea—a kind of subjective credibility in the laws of evidence, subjective credibility. For example, self-imposed prohibition ("shavya anafshei chatikha de-isura"). Meaning, a person who says that something is forbidden—say, for reasons related to the laws of evidence we did not accept it, but with regard to the speaker himself we say: fine, but you yourself will have to be careful about it, because you prohibited this thing to yourself. And there is a dispute among the later authorities (Acharonim) how to understand the law of self-imposed prohibition, parallel to a litigant’s admission; it is a parallel dispute, both in Ketzot. Is this thing real credibility, or is it like a vow? I am not sure the language of a vow is exact here; rather, the point is that it is some sort of new prohibitory principle, not actual credibility. Meaning, one could say: no, I am credible regarding myself that this thing is forbidden. We did not accept your testimony for various reasons, but regarding yourself you really are credible, meaning it is forbidden for that reason. Or not. Or one could say: no, there is a Torah innovation that if you say something is forbidden to you, it is as though you vowed a prohibition from it. Meaning, it is a new prohibition, not the original prohibition itself. Say, if you violated it, for example—did you violate the prohibition of pork, or the prohibition of self-imposed prohibition, a vow-like prohibition? According to the first approach, you violated the prohibition of pork; you are credible, for you it is pork. According to the second approach, you violated the prohibition of self-imposed prohibition, a kind of vow prohibition. I do not think they really mean an actual vow there, but that is a different discussion. So there too, what does it mean that this is credibility for me but not for others? There are situations in which a person testifying to something can have actual credibility—I mean for clarifying the truth, not just for conduct—and only with respect to himself and not with respect to others. And however you look at it, if it is pork then it is pork, and if not then not; what difference is there between him and others? There are sometimes situations where I have the ability or the right or the duty or obligation—it does not matter—to determine what the truth will be within my territorial domain. Within my territorial domain—this is the principle of “it is in his hands.” For example, “it is in his hands”: the Rosh writes in Bava Batra that “it is in his hands” is stronger than migo. When I can bring about the result about which I am testifying with my own hands—to render a friend’s pure items impure, or things like that—then I am believed. And this is stronger than migo, because I could simply have actually rendered them impure, so I am believed to say that they are impure. Why is it stronger? Here we get into the whole question of migo, but simply put, the point is that once I have the power to do it, then I have credibility here, I have some kind of control in this area. And where I have control, I have credibility. Credibility here basically means that the one who determines what the truth is in this territory is me. But from outside that means nothing. From our standpoint, if you ask us whether it is pork—no, we have no indication of that. By the way, a litigant’s admission is the same, in my opinion. There too there is a dispute—Ketzot and Maharlbach. A litigant’s admission is equivalent to a hundred witnesses; where it creates liability for others, he is not believed. And usually people look for explanations why where it creates liability for others he is not believed, because if that admission obligates others, causes some infringement on someone else’s rights, then you are not believed. That is how I formulated it in a certain way. People ask why not, so they understand—usually they understand—why is a litigant’s admission equivalent to a hundred witnesses? Because a person does not incriminate himself, does not admit he owes if he does not really owe—a simple rationale—and therefore clearly we should believe him. In a place where this harms someone else, who knows, maybe he has some interests; he wants to hurt someone else and not only benefit himself, and therefore I do not believe him. That sounds reasonable. So in a case where he harms himself and also another, that rationale still exists. That rationale which says a person would not just harm himself unless it is true—it still exists. After all, he is still harming himself; it is just that he is also harming someone else. So what? No—that is the point. In a litigant’s admission where it creates liability for others, the meaning is that a litigant’s admission is subjective credibility. It is territorial credibility. On whatever concerns you, you have full credibility; you do not need the laws of evidence. The laws of evidence were stated for an objective party, like a religious court, which wants to clarify what the reality was and impose it on the two litigants. It needs objective laws of evidence to clarify what really happened there. But the individual as such is not bound by the laws of evidence; if he knows that this is the truth, then for him this is the truth. Who is going to tell him what the truth is and what it is not? In his own domain he determines it, and if he is convinced that this is the truth, then this is the truth.

[Speaker D] Is there no alternative-claim argument? What? There is no issue of an alternative claim if so?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean? Migo? About an alternative claim. No, in the laws of evidence maybe that can work, with claims and proofs, but in the laws of… a person with regard to himself—an alternative claim? If I am judging with myself, I do not need alternative claims. The question is what the truth is: whether this is pork or not pork. This is not litigation with someone else. So here too, in fact, we see aspects—I will maybe say in one sentence—there is a contradiction between Talmudic passages regarding the credibility of dreams. A person who dreamed about certain coins of second tithe hidden in a certain place, or coins that had belonged to his father hidden in some place and belonging to so-and-so, meaning he dreamed that so-and-so had deposited them with his father. Now he wakes up in the morning, goes there, digs in the place—yes, like the famous story, there’s no one like me—he digs there in the place and finds exactly the sum he saw in the dream. So there are disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim), again without going into details. There are disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim); in Nachmanides you can see that he has credibility regarding himself, but there is no actual credibility here. Meaning, others do not need to treat these coins as second-tithe coins. Now however you look at it, there is evidence here: he dreamed, and afterward it was verified in reality—he went to the place and it turned out that this dream was a true dream. So how can that be? Right—but that is subjective evidence. Subjective evidence is evidence that is relevant only to the person himself. And with regard to the person himself, that is the truth—not that this is how he ought to conduct himself, like a vow or something; this is the truth for him. But that credibility exists only in his own domain, with respect to himself. When it creates liability for others or concerns someone else, that credibility does not exist, because wherever it concerns others, objective laws of evidence apply there—witnesses, presumptions, migo, and all the other things. Actually migo is not… something else, but witnesses, for the purpose of the discussion. So here too we see some sort of territorial dimension, though of course in a different respect. Credibilities that concern only my own domain, but real credibilities. Not that I am obligated to act this way even though it is not the truth; it is the truth, but with respect to me. Others do not have to accept it; they are not bound by my subjective evidence. If witnesses were brought, then that binds everyone. Fine—so these are examples. One could expand on this further, only to illustrate these matters of territory. I am a bit undecided about how to continue. Basically, what I still wanted to do—what remains—is one more point that touches on territory, which will take me a lesson, and after that to speak about comparative law, since we are talking about Choshen Mishpat. So comparative law: what is the difference between monetary law in Jewish law and monetary law—or law in general, more broadly? There are several very interesting differences beyond what I have spoken about now regarding rights, because that is shared; legal systems are always the rights of the other. My innovation was that in Jewish law too this is the case. But here I want to talk about some difference in the way Jewish law works—that is a second lesson. And after that maybe we can move on to Torah study. The problem is that if I do two lessons, then the discussion of Torah study will already be after Shavuot and not before. So I still do not know—we will see.

[Speaker D] Maybe switch the order?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but then I am still in the middle of the topic of civil law—

[Speaker D] —law, so a complex point.

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