The Periphery of Halakha – Lesson 1

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

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So then I have no doubt, and if so, why should I care that there are nine non-kosher shops here? I’m not going to follow the majority. Why? Because I’m not in doubt. Meaning, in a place where I am not in doubt, the Jewish law of following the majority does not apply to me. The same thing in a place where I am in doubt—the rule of a Torah-level doubt requiring stringency does not apply to me. All the laws of doubt apply only to situations where I am in doubt. But if I’m not in doubt, those laws do not apply to me. The big novelty here is that if I make a choice based on extra-halakhic considerations—considerations of pressing circumstances, moral considerations, or other considerations—that too can remove me from the category of a doubtful situation. Because I chose a path; now I no longer have doubt between two paths—I chose. Again, I did not decide that it is the correct one; I chose it. I’m allowed to choose it as the path relevant for me in this situation. The big novelty is that such a choice also takes me out of a state of doubt. It’s not only a halakhic decision that a certain path is correct that resolves the doubt or removes me from the definition of a doubtful situation; extra-halakhic considerations can also remove me from it. Once I adopted this novelty, that I no longer define this as a doubtful situation, then everything follows naturally. If it’s not a doubtful situation, then the rules of following the majority or of a Torah-level doubt requiring stringency, or things like that, do not apply. Because if I’m not in doubt, then the rules of doubt do not apply to me. So some extra-halakhic principle got involved here—hit and run, so to speak. Yes, it came in, did something, and left. It did something—what did it do? It removed me from the category of doubt. Now I continue within the halakhic categories. If I’m not in doubt, then the rule of a Torah-level doubt requiring stringency doesn’t apply to me; no problem, I’m not in doubt, everything is fine. So there is some involvement here, yes—some kind of penetration of an extra-halakhic principle that changed something and left. After it changed things, Jewish law continues with its own tools, but the result is different. So this example of the involvement of moral considerations in determining Jewish law is basically the motivation for the topic I chose here, which is really just an example of the involvement of extra-halakhic considerations. And I want to emphasize again: there are two kinds of considerations that I am not talking about. One kind is when I say: Jewish law tells me to do X, and morality tells me to do Y. Now I’m in conflict between Jewish law and morality. I said that even in such a situation I do not necessarily have to do X. It’s a real conflict. It has to be decided the way value conflicts are decided, and we talked about that quite a bit in the previous series. That is not what I’m talking about here. Because here, what I do in the end I would not call a halakhic decision; rather, it would be a decision about what I choose to do. It could be that I decide to go against Jewish law in favor of morality. That would not be a halakhic decision based on an extra-halakhic consideration, but an extra-halakhic decision. Meaning, in the end—let me give an example—suppose Jewish law tells me not to save the life of a gentile on the Sabbath. I claim that this is not correct, but that’s what is accepted according to the Talmudic text, that’s what all the halakhic decisors say, almost all the halakhic decisors: that in principle, according to the strict letter of the law, were it not for considerations of desecration of God’s name, danger to life, the ways of peace, and all those things—were it not for those considerations—it would be forbidden to desecrate the Sabbath in order to save the life of a gentile. Now suppose, for the sake of discussion, we adopt that claim. On the other hand, the moral principle says that the gentile is also a human being, and his life must be saved. So apparently I ought to desecrate the Sabbath to save his life, and then I’m in a conflict. Now, I once heard this in the name of Rabbi Lichtenstein; afterward someone told me he doesn’t think Rabbi Lichtenstein said this, but I once read someone who said it in Rabbi Lichtenstein’s name—that he said that if he entered such a situation, he doesn’t know what he would do. He doesn’t know whether he would manage to stand by the halakhic demand to leave the gentile to die. But he presented it in a way that basically what is really required is exactly that; meaning, he presented it as though he would actually be failing if he saved the gentile. But he says he doesn’t know; maybe he would fail. I say: whether you would fail, or whether you think this is not called a failure at all, as I argued in the previous series—or at least that it may not be a failure at all—still, I have not decided here between legitimate halakhic options on the basis of an extra-halakhic consideration; rather, I decided against Jewish law. That is not what I’m talking about. In the examples I gave earlier, I’m talking about a consideration whose final product is a halakhic decision; it is not a decision to go against Jewish law. It is the halakhic decision. The chicken is kosher for that woman. For someone else it would be forbidden to eat it, but for that woman it is permitted. And the consideration is an extra-halakhic consideration, but in the end the result is a halakhic permission. This is not deciding a conflict. I would even say more than that: it is fully permitted, not merely overridden. In the end, she is completely allowed to eat it. Okay? By contrast, with morality versus Jewish law—say, saving a gentile’s life on the Sabbath—even if I choose in favor of the moral consideration and against the halakhic consideration, clearly that would be a case of overriding, not full permission. Because from the standpoint of Jewish law I have no permission to desecrate the Sabbath in such a case. If I decide to do it, that means I am deciding to violate Jewish law—not that I decided that this is what Jewish law says. This is not a decision about what Jewish law says based on an extra-halakhic consideration; it is simply a decision against Jewish law. Again, how one can do such a thing and whether one can do such a thing—we discussed that a bit in the previous series, and I’ll get to it in this series as well later on—but right now I am not talking about that. I am talking about the involvement of extra-halakhic considerations within halakhic decision-making, and morality is a good example of that. For example, if I, as I said before, decide in favor of the moral consideration against the halakhic one—that is not what I’m talking about. But if I use the moral consideration to decide between two halakhic options, both of which are legitimate from the standpoint of halakhic tools—that is what I’m talking about here. An extra-halakhic consideration that gets involved in determining the halakhic ruling. Now there are all kinds of logical principles that are also involved in deciding Jewish law, and regarding them there is room to hesitate. Let me give one or two examples—this is what the Talmud says about them: “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” So one principle is: the burden of proof lies on the one seeking to extract property from another. The Talmud asks: how do we know that the burden of proof lies on the one seeking to extract property? Someone who comes to take money from someone in possession of it—the burden of proof is placed on the claimant, on him. Where do we learn this from? So the Talmud brings some verse, and then the Talmud says, no, sorry—the Talmud brings some verse and then says, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical: if someone is in pain, let him go to the doctor.” Meaning: you want to cause the religious court to take money from so-and-so and give it to you; that means you expect the religious court to do something. In order to activate the religious court to do something, you need a reason. If there is no reason, the religious court won’t do anything; it will leave the situation as it is. Therefore the burden of proof is on you. That is a logical principle. How would I treat this logic? Is this an intra-halakhic consideration, or an extra-halakhic consideration that establishes a halakhic principle? It seems that in the simple understanding this is a truly halakhic consideration. The fact is that the Talmud says here, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” If it were an extra-halakhic consideration, then it would not be correct to say such a thing—“Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” For that you need a verse. If the Talmud sees logic as equivalent to a verse, and sometimes the verse is unnecessary because it could have been learned from logic, then the Talmud is telling us here that logic is a halakhic principle; it is not an extra-halakhic principle. The verse is unnecessary. If I learned it from logic, I would be in the same halakhic position as if there were a verse here. It’s the same thing. So this example too is apparently not a good example of the involvement of an extra-halakhic principle. Meaning, logical reasoning is also apparently not the example I’m talking about here, okay? Another example of a logical principle the Talmud brings—and here too the Talmud says this—is: “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted.” How do we know that? Because a woman comes and says: “I was a married woman, and I was divorced.” Meaning, nobody knows she was married; we know it only from her word. We know from her word that she is a married woman, and she tells us: yes, if you accept from me that I was a married woman, then also accept what I’m saying that I was divorced and therefore I am permitted, I can marry. Since we live by her word—since the fact that she was a married woman became known to us only because of her—she also has the credibility to permit herself. “The mouth that prohibited”—she prohibited herself by saying she was a married woman—can also permit. She can say: okay, but I was divorced and therefore I am permitted. If there are two witnesses that she is a married woman, she cannot say, “I was divorced”; she would need witnesses that she is divorced. But if we rely on her word, then the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted. Here too, the Talmud brings a verse—“I gave my daughter to this man”—and then again says: no, this is logic. “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” Now here too, once the Talmud speaks in terms of “Why do I need a verse? It is logical,” then it is fairly clear that the Talmud sees logic as a player on the halakhic field. The verse is unnecessary because logic would yield the same thing; and again, this is an example of logic playing on the halakhic field, not something extra-halakhic involved in halakhic reasoning. And then that really raises the question: so what am I talking about? After all, anything extra-halakhic is supposed to be some kind of logic. Moral logic, rational logic, social logic, whatever it may be, slippery slope, all kinds of logic of that sort. So if logic is like a verse—“Why do I need a verse? It is logical”—then what exactly are we talking about? I still owe you an explanation of what this series is actually about. If every logic is basically equivalent to a verse—or in other words, if logical principles are part of the halakhic toolbox—then what is this? Where is there involvement of extra-halakhic principles in determining Jewish law? After all, it is always the involvement of some kind of logic, and if logic is like a verse, then the topic I’m dealing with is apparently empty; there are no such cases. So here I want to sharpen this point a bit, and I’ll say the following. There are logical principles that are interpretive principles, as I said earlier—for example, the burden of proof lies on the claimant. I have two possibilities before me: to place the burden of proof on the claimant or to place the burden of proof on the one in possession, okay? Then logic comes and says: “If someone is in pain, let him go to the doctor.” What does this logic do? This logic tells me that it makes more sense to place the burden of proof on the claimant. So here the logic is interpretive logic: it tells me, in effect, the Torah probably intends this, because reason says so. Well, if so, then of course this is part of Jewish law, because when we interpret and decide in favor of one position over another, obviously we use reason. Reason is part of Jewish law—interpretive reason. Meaning, I’m trying to understand which option is more correct. And when I try to understand which option is more correct, the considerations can be logical or interpretive, in terms of interpreting the verse or whatever it may be—but all those are internal halakhic considerations. That is how halakhic decisions are made; that’s obvious. Therefore all the logical principles—the two I brought earlier, “the mouth that prohibited” and “the burden of proof lies on the claimant”—those are interpretive principles, and interpretive principles are by their very nature part of Jewish law. That is not what I’m talking about. I am talking about logical principles that are not interpretive principles. Maybe I’ll give you an example. I’m sharing here the Talmud in Berakhot. The Talmud in Berakhot 35 discusses the question: how do we know the blessing before deriving benefit, the blessing before eating—what we call blessings over enjoyment: “Who creates the fruit of the tree,” “Who brings forth bread from the earth,” and the like. The Talmud goes through several possibilities there, and then it says—wait, let me enlarge it a bit so it will be easier to see—“Rather, it is logic. Rather, it is logic: it is forbidden for a person to derive benefit from this world without a blessing.” That is logic. A person may not enjoy this world without a blessing, and therefore he must bless beforehand. No need for sources or verses or anything; there is logic. The rabbis taught, the Talmud goes on: “It is forbidden for a person to derive benefit from this world without a blessing, and anyone who derives benefit from this world without a blessing commits misuse of sacred property. What is his remedy?” Meaning, how can he fix it? “He should go to a sage.” “What can a sage do for him?” What will that help? He ate without a blessing—he should go to a sage, what will that help? He already ate without a blessing. He already committed a prohibition—what will it help? Rather, Rava said: he should go to a sage beforehand and learn the blessings, so that he not come to misuse of sacred property. Yes, the idea is to prepare the remedy before the blow. Go to a sage, learn how to bless and over what, and in that way you’ll avoid misuse. Rav Yehuda said in the name of Shmuel: “Anyone who derives benefit from this world without a blessing, it is as though he derived benefit from the sacred things of Heaven, as it says: ‘The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord.’” Fine. Then Rabbi Levi raised a contradiction: it is written, “The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord,” and it is written, “The heavens are the Lord’s heavens, but the earth He has given to human beings.” There is no contradiction: here it is before a blessing; there it is after a blessing. Likewise Rabbi Hanina bar Pappa said: “Anyone who derives benefit from this world without a blessing is as though he robs the Holy One, blessed be He, and the Jewish people, as it says: ‘He who robs his father and his mother and says, There is no transgression, is a companion to a destroyer.’ And ‘his father’ means none other than the Holy One, blessed be He, as it says: ‘Is He not your Father who acquired you?’ And ‘his mother’ means none other than the Jewish people, as it says: ‘Hear, my son, the discipline of your father, and do not forsake the teaching of your mother.’” In short, that’s the story. So the Talmud says that basically we are talking about logic—that one must bless before eating. What is the logic? That it is forbidden to derive benefit from this world without a blessing, because otherwise it is as though you are misusing sacred property, robbing the Holy One, blessed be He. Everything belongs to the Holy One, blessed be He, and so long as you have not blessed, you are basically eating something that is His. Therefore it is a kind of misuse, or theft, or whatever. Incidentally, this is also some evidence in the inquiry of the later authorities as to whether misuse of sacred property is theft from the sanctified realm, or whether misuse is its own prohibition; and in the Talmud here it seems that misuse is a kind of theft. When the robbed party is sacred property, heavenly property, then that theft is called misuse—but misuse is basically a subdivision of theft. Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman and many later authorities discuss this issue. In any case, this is what the Talmud says here. What would we say about this logic? This logic—that one must bless before eating, before the meal, I mean, before eating, sorry—is it an extra-halakhic principle? Is it an intra-halakhic principle? What is this logic? Here the situation is not simple, and at first glance it seems to be an extra-halakhic principle.

[Speaker B] Maybe it’s Torah-level?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In just a moment we’ll see whether it’s Torah-level or not—that will be the practical implication, yes. But the point is: why do I say this? Because here the logic is not interpretive logic. It’s not that from halakhic principles I got several possibilities—sorry, several possibilities—and the logic tells me option A is more correct or option B is more correct, helping me decide which of the two is correct. That is interpretive logic: which interpretation do I choose for some verse or some principle from the Torah? Here there is no principle and no verse from the Torah. The logic tells me what is appropriate to do. This is not logic that interprets a ruling for me, but logic that has independent content of its own. This logic says: one should bless before eating. That’s it. Where do we learn it from? Just from my own reason. This is not logic that helps me understand some verse. In that sense, this is not interpretive logic, but rather logic that creates a new law. The question is: what is the status of such logic? So here it is very unclear, even before I enter into the halakhic status of this logic. This already can enter the category I’m talking about here. Because here the logic is not interpretive logic. Even after the logic, I still won’t be able to point to a verse that tells me I have to bless before eating. The logic doesn’t tell me: this is what the verse says. The logic tells me that this is what is proper to do. For example, take “the burden of proof lies on the claimant.” That is a logic that reveals to me what “judge your fellow with righteousness” means. There is a verse. The verse says, “Judge your fellow with righteousness.” The trial has to be conducted justly. Now the question is: what does “justly” mean? So logic tells me that it is more just to place the burden of proof on the claimant. That is more just for all kinds of reasons. Okay? If that is so, then the logic helped me understand that this is the meaning of the verse “judge your fellow with righteousness.” Therefore it is interpretive logic. And interpretive logic is part of Jewish law. About that it is said, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” Because logic is a device on the halakhic playing field. It is a tool in the halakhic toolbox. Therefore there it is certainly part of Jewish law. Our case is different. Here, even after you bring me that logic, you still won’t be able to point to a verse. This logic stands on its own; it does not interpret verses. It creates an independent obligation of its own, one that without the logic has no source, and even with the logic has no source outside itself—the source is the logic itself. If so, then the question is to what extent such a thing belongs to Jewish law at all. Obligations—Jewish law is usually what we are commanded by the Holy One, blessed be He. What we are commanded by the Holy One, blessed be He, is either Torah law, or rabbinic enactments, which also rely on a Torah verse, “you shall not deviate.” But in the end, there is an anchor in the command of the Holy One, blessed be He, in the Torah. This logic has no such anchor. This is how I think, and in my opinion this is the proper thing to do. Is that Torah law? Is that rabbinic law? What is this thing? Logic. Apparently this is an extra-halakhic category. Now look at something interesting. The Pnei Yehoshua here—the next passage I’m bringing. On the phrase in the Talmud, “Rather, it is logic: it is forbidden for a person…” and so on—“it follows from the language of all the halakhic decisors that according to this conclusion here, all blessings over benefit are rabbinic, except for Grace after Meals alone. And according to Rashba, the blessing after the seven species is also Torah-level”—that is, the Me’ein Shalosh blessing. “But regarding the other blessings he agrees.” Meaning, in principle blessings are rabbinic, except for Grace after Meals, which is “you shall eat, be satisfied, and bless”—that is Torah law—and Me’ein Shalosh, which according to Rashba is also Torah-level. There is also the blessing over Torah study, but we are talking about blessings over enjoyment. “And in my humble opinion,” says the Pnei Yehoshua, “this is puzzling. For throughout the Talmud it appears that anything that comes from logic is Torah-level.” Something derived from logic is Torah-level. But here we saw that the obligation to bless before eating comes from logic. If so, it should have been a Torah-level obligation. So how do all the halakhic decisors treat this as rabbinic law? “And moreover,” he asks, “the Talmud itself asks, ‘Why do I need a verse? It is logical.’” I brought those Talmudic passages earlier. After all, the Talmud says that if there is logic, the verse is unnecessary. What do we see? If what comes from logic were only rabbinic law, then there would be no room for the question, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” Meaning, why do I need a verse? I need the verse in order for this to be Torah law. Because without the verse, if it relied only on logic, then it would be rabbinic law. Rather, from the fact that the Talmud equates logic with a verse, we see that what comes from logic is also Torah law. So the Pnei Yehoshua asks: blessings before eating come from logic, and the Talmud says logic is Torah-level, so how can all the halakhic decisors write that blessings are rabbinic law? Yes, there are practical consequences—on doubtful cases they are lenient; this is rabbinic law; in doubtful blessings we are lenient. “And indeed,” he says, “from the language of Tosafot there is no proof, because it is possible that when they wrote ‘the verse brought earlier,’ they meant it only as an allusion, and perhaps they intended this very point—that since it is logical, the verse is no longer needed.” Tosafot discusses whether the verses brought earlier still remain in force, or whether once the logic is brought we no longer need them. But that is not important for our purposes. So the Pnei Yehoshua raises this problem. And he answers: “In my humble opinion, even if you say that this logic is also Torah-level, it still works out well. For the reason we hold that in doubtful blessings we are lenient is because stringency is not applicable here, since blessing unnecessarily is forbidden, and therefore the logic falls away.” What is he saying? “In doubtful blessings we are lenient” does not mean that because this is rabbinic law, we go lenient. “In doubtful blessings we are lenient” means that one does not bless, because if you bless you are uttering God’s name in vain—“do not take the name in vain”—and there is a prohibition involved. That is why we are lenient. In effect, then, it is not leniency in the laws of blessings, but stringency in the laws of taking God’s name in vain. Therefore one can still maintain that the obligation to bless is Torah-level. And why do we not bless in cases of doubt? Because there is concern that I will make a blessing in vain, and that would be taking God’s name in vain. And this brings us to—the Pnei Yehoshua’s point here is very implausible. He himself says: this seems right to me, but it still requires further analysis, and see the appendix. That is how he ends this paragraph. In truth, what he says here is very difficult. First, because in the simple sense a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. And here, regarding doubt, there is a possible positive commandment—according to him—to bless, since what comes from logic is Torah-level; so here we have a doubtful positive commandment against a doubtful prohibition. The Sdei Chemed discusses this at length; there are many opinions that even a doubtful positive commandment overrides a doubtful prohibition. But beyond that, “in doubtful blessings we are lenient” means lenient, not stringent. He is really saying: “with respect to taking God’s name in vain we are stringent,” not “with respect to blessings we are lenient.” So it should have been formulated that way: “with respect to taking God’s name in vain we are stringent,” not “in doubtful blessings we are lenient.” The result is the same, but it’s like the famous story about Rabbi Chaim. A woman came to him during the Cantonist decrees, when they had seized her son for the army, and she asked him whether she was allowed to travel on the Sabbath to St. Petersburg, the capital, in order to try to have her son released. Rabbi Chaim said to her, “Certainly, certainly—it’s a commandment. Not only are you allowed to travel on the Sabbath, you are obligated to travel on the Sabbath.” So they asked him: how can you be so lenient in the laws of the Sabbath? He replied: no, no—I’m being stringent in the laws of saving life, not lenient in the laws of the Sabbath. And actually this is not a joke. In a large portion of halakhic situations it is really not very clear what counts as a lenient ruling and what counts as a stringent ruling. When you are lenient here, you are stringent there. It’s like when people often say, for example, I don’t know, in egalitarian prayer quorums. There are all kinds of rulings that say a woman may be called up to the Torah. Wait—how can you be so lenient? The Talmud says, because of the dignity of the congregation she should not be called up, should not recite the blessing, and so on. So are you being so lenient in the laws of congregational dignity? He says: no, I’m being stringent in the laws of women’s dignity. In all sorts of dilemmas like these there is always a conflict between two values. When you rule in favor of one value, that does not mean that you are being lenient. It may very well be that you are being stringent with respect to the value in whose favor you ruled, not lenient with respect to the opposing value. The question is which side of the coin you are looking at. People have some tendency to choose one side and then define the other as lenient. But it may be that the other side is being stringent with respect to another value, not lenient with respect to this one. Usually that is in fact the case, by the way. And therefore the question of what is stringency and what is leniency is a very non-simple question. I’ll just say in one sentence—we once did a short series on this too. The difference between leniency and stringency—the definition of leniency—is not at all the question of what is easier for you to do. That’s a common mistake; it is simply incorrect. That is not the definition. The definition of leniency is also not going against a certain value, or something like that. The definition of leniency is: the ruling that allows more options. That is the definition of a lenient ruling. A lenient ruling means it opens more paths before you. If one ruling opens two paths before you, and another ruling opens only one path, then the first ruling is the lenient one. For example, there are decisors who say it is forbidden to fast for two days on Yom Kippur because of danger to life. There was a doubt—when people arrived in Japan during World War II there was a dilemma what to do on Yom Kippur regarding the international date line, where the date line passes and on which date to fast. Some decisors said: fast for two days. Others said: it is forbidden to fast for two days. Is the decisor who says one may fast for two days lenient or stringent? I claim that he is lenient. Because he opens an option. He says: it is also permitted to fast for two days. Once fasting for two days is permitted, then yes, now perhaps you also should fast, and that then is indeed a stringency. But the leniency is the very determination that it is permitted to fast for two days, because that opens another halakhic option for you. The greater the number of halakhic options, the more lenient you are—even if the option you are opening is the option of fasting for two days, which is not exactly the most lenient path I can imagine. What option has that decisor added for me? That I may also fast for two days. Thank you very much. Is fasting for two days called lenient? The answer is yes. Because if he added another path for me beyond the paths the other decisor opens before me, then he is a lenient decisor; he added more paths. The same applies in the laws of blessings. The question can be asked even without the Pnei Yehoshua: why is it called “in doubtful blessings we are lenient”? It should really be “with respect to taking God’s name in vain we are stringent.” As the Pnei Yehoshua himself writes—why does the Talmud say “in doubtful blessings we are lenient”? And all the decisors cite it that way—why is that lenient? My answer is that whoever asks that does not understand what “lenient” means. “In doubtful blessings we are lenient” means that in a case of doubt, you may bless and you may refrain from blessing. You have two paths, both of which are halakhically legitimate. Therefore this is a lenient ruling, because it opens two paths. Someone who obligates blessing says: you must bless; there is only one permitted path. Someone who opens the option of both blessing and not blessing is lenient, because he has opened two options. However, once those two options are opened—both blessing and not blessing—then the considerations of taking God’s name in vain come in and say: okay, if both options exist, then do not bless, so as not to run into the problem of taking God’s name in vain. So that is indeed a stringency regarding taking God’s name in vain, but it begins with leniency in the laws of blessings. The leniency in the laws of blessings says that one may bless and one may refrain from blessing. Once, from the perspective of the laws of blessings, there is an option to bless and an option not to bless, then the laws of taking God’s name in vain come and say: if so, then don’t bless, because perhaps you are making a blessing in vain. And that is indeed a stringency. The leniency in doubtful blessings is that one is allowed not to bless. Not that one must not bless—but that one is allowed not to bless. Then comes the stringency of taking God’s name in vain, which says: one must not bless. Okay? Therefore the leniency in doubtful blessings is really that one may bless and one may refrain from blessing. Then comes the stringency of taking God’s name in vain. Where is the practical implication? What would happen if from the laws of blessings themselves I had to be stringent—and yes, I would have to bless? Suppose that in a doubtful Torah-level blessing—why there do I not worry about… If I am in doubt about Grace after Meals, do I bless or not? Obviously yes: in a Torah-level doubtful blessing we are stringent. What about taking God’s name in vain? Why here am I not stringent because of that? Because where the laws of doubt, from the standpoint of the laws of blessings, tell me that I have only one option—only to bless—then the question of taking God’s name in vain does not arise. I am obligated to bless. If I am obligated to bless, then I bless, and that is not called a blessing in vain. There is no taking God’s name in vain here; it is not in vain. Jewish law obligates me to bless. Only where, from the standpoint of the laws of blessings, I may bless and I may refrain from blessing, can we then be stringent regarding taking God’s name in vain and tell me: then do not bless, because if that is a possible option, choose it. But if from the standpoint of the laws of blessings I had to be stringent, then taking God’s name in vain would not tell me not to bless. If so, then the Pnei Yehoshua’s words don’t even get off the ground. Because what the Pnei Yehoshua is really saying is that in fact all blessings before food are Torah-level, like Grace after Meals. Then apparently from the standpoint of the laws of blessings I should have been stringent—that’s what he himself writes. Why are we lenient? Because of taking God’s name in vain. Fine, then explain to me why in Grace after Meals we are not lenient in the same way. Why in cases of doubt regarding Grace after Meals do we bless? There too it should be the same thing. A Torah-level doubt requiring stringency says to bless, but there is also taking God’s name in vain, which should have made me lenient and not bless. No—we see that if from the standpoint of the laws of blessings the ruling is to bless, then there is no problem of taking God’s name in vain, because it is not in vain. Jewish law tells me to bless in such a case; this is not a blessing in vain. So if he were right regarding blessings before food, then the same would apply there as well. If it is Torah-level by force of logic, if all logic is Torah-level, then in doubtful cases I should have been stringent, and if in doubtful cases I should have been stringent, then the problem of taking God’s name in vain would not arise, and indeed I should have had to bless. So what he says—that because of taking God’s name in vain one does not bless—is not correct. Therefore what he says doesn’t get started; it cannot be correct. What I want to argue is the following. What really emerges here, from the phrase “Why do I need a verse? It is logical,” first of all—well, we’ll see this later—but for now I’ll say this. The Torah-level obligation to bless is basically to remove the food from the category of misuse of sacred property—to take it out of the domain of the Holy One, blessed be He, and into my domain. How do I do that? What the logic says is, for example, that I say: thank you very much, Holy One, blessed be He; I ask Your permission to eat this apple, or this bread, or this dish, okay? That is all in my own language. I do not need “Blessed are You, Lord,” with God’s name and kingship—all those rules are certainly rabbinic. The Torah-level obligation that comes from the logic that one may not derive benefit from this world without a blessing—I could also say: I ask Your permission, Holy One, blessed be He, to eat this thing, and thank You very much for creating it for me. Okay? I would thereby fulfill the Torah-level obligation. The rabbis came and said: do this with God’s name and kingship, in a fixed formula, in a particular form of blessing. If so, then now the answer to the question is very simple—the answer to the Pnei Yehoshua’s question. Indeed, logic is Torah-level logic, and the obligation to bless is Torah-level, because everywhere “Why do I need a verse? It is logical” means logic is equivalent to Torah law. But what is the Torah-level obligation? To say in my own language, “Thank You very much, Holy One, blessed be He,” or to ask permission to eat. The fixed formula of the blessing, with God’s name and kingship, is rabbinic. If I am in doubt, then it becomes very simple: one must be stringent because it is Torah-level. What does that mean—to be stringent? To say thank You very much to the Holy One, blessed be He, in my own language. But not to recite the formal blessing with God’s name and kingship, because the need to bless with God’s name and kingship is only rabbinic, and in a case of rabbinic doubt one may be lenient there; then taking God’s name in vain tells me, if so, don’t bless. After all, I can fulfill the Torah-level obligation in my own language, without God’s name, and then everything is fine. So taking God’s name in vain tells me: if so, then do not bless in the formal blessing formula. But if you are in doubt, bless in your own language. And this is a halakhic consequence of what I’m saying. According to the Pnei Yehoshua, in my opinion, what one should do in doubtful blessings is bless in our own language without God’s name and kingship, and that is a Torah-level obligation because a doubtful blessing is a Torah-level doubt requiring stringency. That is what follows according to the Pnei Yehoshua. By the way, look at the students of Rabbenu Yonah. Incidentally this appears in two places in the students of Rabbenu Yonah there on the passage, but I brought one of them here. “What is his remedy?”—this is on the Rif; yes, it is printed around the Rif. “What is his remedy? Rava said: he should go beforehand to a sage who is expert.” That is, one who does not know the blessings—how can he eat at all? For if he eats, he will become liable to a misuse offering each and every time. And we answer: he should go to an expert and learn the blessings for each and every thing; and likewise, even if he knows only the blessing ‘By whose word all things came to be,’ he has thereby escaped misuse, as we learned: for all things, if he said ‘By whose word all things came to be,’ he has fulfilled his obligation. But he needs to learn, so that he can say the blessing appropriate to each and every thing. What is he saying here? Notice, there is a tremendous novelty here: “if he eats, he will become liable to a misuse offering.” What misuse offering? If I eat without a blessing, I become liable for a misuse offering? This is a rabbinic prohibition. If I bring an offering to the Temple courtyard, that’s unconsecrated slaughter in the courtyard. I didn’t violate a Torah prohibition. How can he say here that one who eats without a blessing—if he doesn’t bless, he becomes liable to a misuse offering? He writes this elsewhere too—I said there are two places in the students of Rabbenu Yonah where he writes this. We see from him that indeed this is a Torah prohibition, as the Pnei Yehoshua says; it is not a rabbinic prohibition. One is liable for a misuse offering over it. So just as the Pnei Yehoshua asks—then why are we lenient in doubtful cases? The answer is: we are not lenient. In doubtful cases one must be stringent and bless in one’s own language in order to fulfill the obligation—not to eat, to remove the food from misuse, so as not to derive benefit from this world without a blessing. As for the formula with God’s name, do not say it because of taking God’s name in vain, since according to the laws of blessings you are not Torah-level obligated to say that; it is only rabbinic. In a case of rabbinic doubt one may be lenient and need not say it, and therefore taking God’s name in vain tells you not to say it. And that is exactly what he says here: but if you eat without blessing at all—even not in your own language—then you are liable to bring a misuse offering; this is not unconsecrated slaughter in the courtyard, this is a Torah prohibition. You are liable to bring a misuse offering. More than that: he also adds here afterward that even if he says “By whose word all things came to be” over something whose proper blessing is not that, he has escaped misuse. Why? Because this continues what I said earlier. Even if he blesses without God’s name and kingship, he has escaped misuse. So too the blessing “By whose word all things came to be” is of course equivalent to saying: thank You very much, Holy One, blessed be He; may I eat this? It is the same thing. I’m only saying—even without God’s name and kingship, whereas in “By whose word all things came to be” there is God’s name and kingship—even without God’s name and kingship, you have basically escaped misuse, because in the end you thanked the Holy One, blessed be He, or asked Him, and now you can eat. You solved that logical requirement not to derive benefit from this world without a blessing. As for the formal formula established by the sages, with God’s name and kingship—that no; but in a doubtful case, a rabbinic doubt permits leniency. And if there is a concern of taking God’s name in vain, then certainly you may not bless. A lenient ruling in a doubtful case says you are not obligated to bless, but you may; however, because taking God’s name in vain is involved, it then also becomes forbidden. There are three levels here. Either you are obligated to bless—if it were Torah-level, you would be obligated to bless. If it is rabbinic, then he says: you are allowed to bless and allowed not to bless. Now taking God’s name in vain comes and says: no, no, don’t bless. It is forbidden for you to bless because of taking God’s name in vain.

[Speaker B] And why, when there is a rabbinic doubt and we are lenient about blessings, don’t we say: just say some kind of thanks without God’s name?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here, people say—well, I just said it now. People don’t think this way, but I think this is the simple explanation of the Pnei Yehoshua’s position. Not that I found anyone who says it, but it seems simple to me. Practically speaking, this is what I think: someone who is in doubt whether he recited the blessing or not should say a blessing in his own language, and he is obligated to say it on a Torah-level basis. If he doesn’t say it, he enters into a doubt involving misuse of sanctified property. Well, from doubt you don’t bring an offering for misuse of sanctified property, but I mean in principle. Maybe if this were an obligation of a sin-offering then there would be a suspended guilt-offering here, but this is not a sin-offering obligation. Okay, in any case, that’s the Pnei Yehoshua.

Now look at the Tzelach. A famous dispute between the Tzelach and the Pnei Yehoshua. The Tzelach on this passage says as follows: “And what the brilliant author of Pnei Yehoshua wrote, that since the conclusion is that it is logical, it therefore is from the Torah, for we find that they said: ‘Why do I need a verse? It is logical’—learn from this that logic is effective like a verse.” Yes, like a verse. So up to here that is a quotation from the Pnei Yehoshua.

And therefore, as I said earlier, it really seems according to the Pnei Yehoshua that the obligation to recite a blessing over food before eating is a Torah-level obligation. And I also claim that in a case of doubt one should be stringent—this the Pnei Yehoshua does not say, but that’s what I claim.

And I say, says the Tzelach, that this applies only to one law among the laws, as in tractate Ketubot 22: “From where do we know that the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted,” and in tractate Bava Kamma 46b: “From where do we know that the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another,” and so on—for in these places the Talmud asks, “Why do I need a verse? It is logical.” But to say about something that is logical that it is considered a Torah commandment—that we have not heard. And if that were so, then why were all the rational commandments written for nothing? “Why do I need a verse? It is logical”—so why was “Do not murder” written? Why was “Do not steal” written? And furthermore, this logic—that it is forbidden to benefit from this world without a blessing—this logic applies to all human beings. If so, should blessings over benefit also be obligatory for Noahides? I am astonished! So why are gentiles not obligated to recite blessings? This logic applies to them too. Rather, certainly the intention is that since there is such logic, the Sages instituted blessings over benefit. It is a rabbinic law; because of this logic the Sages instituted the blessing.

And this is true for all the other blessings over fruits, but regarding bread there is room to discuss whether this is indeed the a fortiori argument, and whether it is a complete a fortiori argument such that one would be obligated on a Torah level or not, yes. The Talmud brings there an a fortiori argument for a blessing before eating from a blessing after eating, and for bread, which has a blessing after it, it could be that the blessing before it, which is learned by an a fortiori argument, would also be Torah-level. Yes—“Who brings forth bread from the earth,” not Grace after Meals. Fine, that’s just a parenthetical remark.

What is the Tzelach saying? What is the difference between one law among the laws and a logical argument that is… wait. Yes: “But to say about something that is logical that it is considered a Torah commandment—that we have not heard.” What is this distinction?

It seems that this distinction is exactly why I brought all of this up. It’s the distinction I spoke about earlier. If you are talking about interpretive logic, then the result of that logic is Torah-level. Like the Talmud in Ketubot: “From where do we know that the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another,” or “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted”—with the two examples he brings here from Bava Kamma and Ketubot. Why? Because there the logic is basically the tool through which I interpret the verse “Judge your fellow justly.” That is what it means to judge justly. So the logic only helps me decode what the verse is saying. Once I used the logic, as far as I’m concerned, that is what the verse says. So if so, of course that is Torah-level. The fact that logic helped me uncover what the verse says changes nothing. After I used the logic, that is what the verse says as far as I’m concerned. So that is Torah-level. What difference does it make that I used logic?

But with the logic regarding blessings over benefit, the logic we discussed here, that logic does not interpret any verse for me. It creates a new obligation for me: to bless over food before eating it. About this the Tzelach says: nowhere have we heard that such a thing should be considered a Torah commandment. Because this is not interpretive logic; this is logic that creates a novel law. That is not Torah-level.

I’ll say even more, in my own terms: it is not a halakhic obligation at all. It is a moral obligation, an extra-halakhic obligation, not a halakhic obligation at all. So what happened? The Sages came and established rabbinically that this obligation should be brought into Jewish law because of this logic. Without the Sages I would still have had to bless, because this logic exists even without the Sages instituting it. Only then I could have blessed in whatever formulation I wanted, even in my own language, as I said above. The Sages decided to bring this into the realm of halakhic obligations, into Jewish law. Of course, on the Torah level they cannot bring it in, because they do not have a verse, since this is not logic that interprets a verse, but logic that creates a law. So therefore this is really an extra-halakhic obligation.

But the Sages bring it into Jewish law by means of an enactment; they establish an enactment. So in the final analysis, if I ask whether the obligation to bless over food before eating is a halakhic obligation, the answer is yes—but not because of the logic, rather because the Sages enacted rabbinic enactments. Those are part of Jewish law because there is “do not deviate.” There is a verse saying that the Sages have authority to institute enactments. So in the end it becomes part of Jewish law. But originally, before the Sages enacted anything, this logic that it is forbidden for a person to benefit from this world without a blessing—that logic is an extra-halakhic logic, and there is an obligation to bless even before the Sages established it. And the obligation to bless is to bless in your own language.

What kind of obligation is that? It is not a halakhic obligation. Call it morality, or maybe the Holy One, blessed be He, gave this to us so we should bless Him for it. It doesn’t matter—gratitude or things of that sort. It may be a moral obligation, but it is not a halakhic obligation. Therefore what the Pnei Yehoshua claims—that basically “why do I need a verse? It is logical”—means that this is a Torah-level halakhic obligation. The Tzelach claims—and I say, I’m putting myself into the Tzelach too; neither of them says exactly what I’m saying, but it seems to me that this is what lies behind their words—the Tzelach claims that you are right that there is such an obligation, but it is not a halakhic obligation. The obligation becomes halakhic only on the rabbinic plane, after the Sages established it.

By the way, I brought a similar example in the previous series when I spoke about the trait of Sodom, in tractate Bava Batra 10. The Talmud there talks, for example, about the law of an adjacent property owner, about a case where one benefits and the other does not lose, and there are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who connect this to the trait of Sodom. So there the claim is as follows. Let’s say there are two brothers who inherited a field from their father, and now they need to divide it between them. Reuven has a field adjacent to this inherited field, and he asks his brother Shimon: “Give me the half that borders my field; you take the other half. It will simply be more convenient for me to work these two fields together.” And the two halves are of equal value; there is no issue here—this is not better land or worse land.

Here the Talmud says that in principle, from a halakhic standpoint, Shimon is not obligated to agree. He has the right to demand a lottery. He is not obligated to agree, even though he has no reason not to—the other half is no worse than this one. But never mind: this half belongs to me just like it belongs to you; I insist on my rights and want a lottery. But what can be said? That is the trait of Sodom. You are just behaving like a wicked person. What do you care? This half is just as good as that half, so give him that half.

On that the Sages came and established: “We compel against the trait of Sodom.” What is the novelty here? Exactly what we saw here in the Tzelach. On the Torah level there is no such obligation. There is such a moral obligation before the Sages established it—a moral obligation. The Sages bring it into Jewish law by establishing an enactment that we compel in regard to this moral matter. But on the halakhic plane, this is basically a rabbinic law, only because the Sages established it and decided to bring it into Jewish law.

This does not mean that on the Torah plane it is a neutral matter—do whatever you want, until the Sages established it, do whatever you want. If you don’t do it, you are wicked even on the Torah plane, but morally wicked, not halakhically wicked. On the halakhic level you can do what you want; morally you are not okay. After the Sages established it and brought it into Jewish law, they took that moral obligation and determined that there is now a halakhic obligation attached to it—but rabbinically.

Something like this is what the Tzelach also writes in the case of blessings over benefit. Here too there is a moral obligation—call it Torah-level or not Torah-level—but there is a moral obligation before the Sages enacted the enactment of blessings, because it is forbidden to benefit from this world without a blessing; that is an explicit Talmudic text. But the halakhic dimension is obtained only after the Sages establish a halakhic obligation regarding it and bring it into Jewish law, and of course this is rabbinic law.

According to the Pnei Yehoshua, the Torah-level moral obligation is basically “why do I need a verse? It is logical.” The Pnei Yehoshua understands that the logic is also Torah-level, and therefore in a doubt one should be stringent. According to the Tzelach, there is a moral obligation, but the rule that in doubt one should be stringent probably does not apply to it. According to the Tzelach, what I said earlier is not correct. What I said earlier—that if I am in doubt regarding blessings, then I should bless in my own language without the divine name so as not to transgress by uttering the divine name in vain—according to the Tzelach that is not correct. There is an obligation to bless, a moral obligation, even without the enactment of the Sages. But in the realm of morality I don’t know whether doubt is treated stringently. The rule that in doubt one should be stringent is a halakhic rule. And on this plane, says the Tzelach, we are not yet in the halakhic realm. It enters the halakhic realm only after the Sages establish it as a rabbinic enactment. But if it is a rabbinic enactment, then in a doubt one is lenient. Therefore, according to the Tzelach, it seems to me there is no obligation in a case of doubt to bless in your own language.

Though it is fitting, by the way, in order to be on the safe side. It is fitting, I think, to bless even according to the Tzelach, but there is no obligation. Okay? According to the Pnei Yehoshua, the Pnei Yehoshua holds that this Torah-level obligation, this moral one, basically has the status of Torah law. Therefore, according to his view, there is also an obligation to be stringent in a case of doubt. That is the practical implication. The implication of the dispute between the Pnei Yehoshua and the Tzelach is how to relate to this moral obligation to bless before the Sages established it. Is it a halakhic obligation or an extra-halakhic obligation? According to the Pnei Yehoshua it is a halakhic obligation, so the halakhic rule “Torah-level doubt requires stringency” applies to it. That halakhic rule applies to halakhic obligations. According to the Tzelach, there may be a moral obligation but not a halakhic one, so the rule “Torah-level doubt requires stringency” speaks about Torah-level laws; it is a halakhic rule. If this obligation is not a halakhic obligation, then the rule “Torah-level doubt requires stringency” does not apply to it.

Now I’ll say again: even according to the Tzelach, in my opinion it is proper to do what I said earlier. At the end of the day, it could be that you are eating without a blessing. So there is no obligation on you, but because the whole moral issue is something that cannot be defined as an obligation in the halakhic sense, still it is certainly proper, even in a case of doubt, to bless in your own language.

Fine. So the dispute overall between the Tzelach and the Pnei Yehoshua, as I am presenting it here, is fairly limited. Okay, so what I now want to learn from this example is that we need to distinguish, in the realm of logical reasoning, among several types of reasoning. That is really the lesson from everything I have said until now.

There is reasoning that is interpretive reasoning, like “the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another,” or “when someone is in pain, he goes to the doctor.” Interpretive reasoning basically tells me how to decide among several halakhic options that stand before me. So interpretive reasoning tells me in favor of option A, B, or C, and that is an ordinary halakhic decision. That is part of Jewish law; there is no issue there, it is obvious. That is not the topic of our series.

There is reasoning of the type “it is forbidden to benefit from this world without a blessing,” what we just saw. That is reasoning about which there is room to hesitate. Because on the one hand it is not interpretive reasoning; it is reasoning that tells me this is how one ought to act. But on the other hand, the Pnei Yehoshua says: okay, but still this reasoning is basically—let’s call it—religious reasoning. You owe this gratitude to the Holy One, blessed be He. So true, you have no source in the Torah, but in his view it has some kind of status of Torah law. Not entirely, even according to the Pnei Yehoshua, because it still is not like Grace after Meals; there the rule in doubt is lenient here, but with Grace after Meals the rule in doubt is stringent. Even the Pnei Yehoshua cannot escape that, although he remains with it unresolved. But he still sees it as something halakhic.

As for me, I tend to think like the Tzelach, that this obligation is a moral obligation and not a halakhic obligation, and therefore it is an extra-halakhic obligation, and therefore it is not part of Jewish law. After the Sages established an enactment to bless with the divine name and kingship, it became Jewish law. But before that, on the Torah plane, it really is not part of Jewish law. It is an extra-halakhic obligation, like moral prohibitions. Moral prohibitions are not halakhic obligations; they are moral obligations, which are also obligations that the Holy One, blessed be He, imposes on us. We discussed that at length in the previous series. But those are non-halakhic obligations; that is a peripheral category.

I claim that blessing before food, prior to the enactment of the Sages, based on logic, also belongs to this peripheral realm—connected to morality or, I don’t know, to the non-halakhic service of God. Not necessarily morality here—it is a bit delicate whether this is a moral matter or not. Is gratitude toward the Holy One, blessed be He, a moral obligation? I’m not entirely sure. That is the second type.

The third type of reasoning is really—not that I would even call it exactly reasoning—but what I opened the lecture with, like pressing circumstances or extra-halakhic considerations by means of which I choose one option from among the halakhic options, but not because I determine that this is the correct option, because that was the first type of reasoning I mentioned. The first type of reasoning says: this reasoning tells me that this is the correct halakhic option. That is interpretive reasoning. Here I am speaking about reasoning that is not interpretive reasoning, but still takes part within the halakhic sphere, because it tells me that in pressing circumstances I have reason to choose Rabbi Shimon’s opinion, because after all Rabbi Shimon is also a Torah scholar, and if he thinks this chicken is not non-kosher, then in pressing circumstances I am allowed to rely on him. So this reasoning—that pressing circumstances is a consideration that can get me out of a state of doubt—I said this is extra-halakhic reasoning; it also has no source in the Torah or in Jewish law. But this is reasoning that tells me: choose halakhic option A and not B. In that sense it is involved in the halakhic decision itself.

So there are three situations I am drawing here. One situation, which I am not discussing, is interpretive reasoning, where the reasoning simply works inside Jewish law to determine that option A is correct and not option B. I have reasoning in favor of option A—that is interpretive reasoning, it is Torah-level, and there is nothing to discuss; that is obvious.

Then there is reasoning that is not interpretive reasoning but helps me choose a halakhic option from among the legitimate options when I have several options—like pressing circumstances, what I mentioned earlier. That is extra-halakhic reasoning, but it helps me in my halakhic deliberation. It tells me: choose halakhic option A and not halakhic option B. In the end, in the bottom line, I will call that decision a halakhic decision, even though it relied on a non-halakhic consideration.

The third type of reasoning is extra-halakhic reasoning that does not take part in choosing a halakhic option but stands on its own. Like the reasoning that tells me to bless over food before it, or moral reasoning, or whatever it may be. Moral reasoning not that sorts among halakhic options, but moral reasoning that stands on its own, a novel moral obligation, yes? Let’s say, I don’t know, equality of women. Someone who thinks there is such a moral value does not think it has a source in Jewish law, and therefore I do not think it is a halakhic obligation, but I do think it is a moral obligation. So that is the third type.

The moral obligation is an obligation imposed on us, and I claim that its foundation is also in God’s will; it is just a different divine will, not the halakhic divine will—that we discussed in the previous series—but that cannot be called Jewish law. It stands outside Jewish law, competes with Jewish law, sometimes clashes with Jewish law, sometimes may even override Jewish law, but the basis of that obligation is a non-halakhic obligation. Therefore that is the third type.

We will still encounter these types in the coming lectures as well. Okay, does anyone want to comment or ask? Now is the time.

[Speaker B] I wanted to ask the Rabbi about the matter of when the Rabbi spoke about “why do I need a verse? It is logical.” Maybe, maybe the verse comes to stabilize it as something on a Torah level? Because as the Rabbi says, logic that does not integrate at all into a verse—even Maimonides in the roots—it would have to be because I want this to be Torah-level, so there is also a verse.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but I said that everywhere the Talmud says “why do I need a verse? It is logical,” it is talking about interpretive reasoning. Let’s say there were no verse saying “the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another.” True, according to the Talmud’s conclusion there is no such verse. So what is the situation now? After all, I do have a verse saying “Judge your fellow justly.” That is a written verse. So there is an obligation on me that the Torah imposes on me—to judge justly. Now I ask myself: what does it mean, in general, to judge justly? Here are two litigants, plaintiff and defendant, yes—one in possession and one trying to extract. On whom am I supposed to place the burden of proof? What does justice say? So I turn to my reasoning, and my reasoning tells me: justice says to place the burden of proof on the plaintiff. So that means this reasoning told me the meaning of the verse “Judge your fellow justly.” Therefore even without a verse that tells me “the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another,” the result would be that “the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another” would be Torah law. Therefore here the verse really is unnecessary. Because there is another verse for which the reasoning is interpretive reasoning. Do you understand what I’m saying?

[Speaker B] Why, when I say “Judge your fellow justly” and I reach the conclusion that “the burden of proof is on the one who seeks to extract from another,” why does that not become—doesn’t that become part of Torah law?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It is completely Torah law. Because that is the plain meaning of the verse. Because that is what “judge justly” means—justly. The reasoning only tells me what counts as justly. Fine, but after I understand that this is what counts as justly, then the Torah commands me to act this way. So the law is Torah law. Meaning: even without the verse, the reasoning helped me understand what the verse says. But now, after I reached the conclusion that this is what the verse says, then the law is Torah law. That is exactly the difference between interpretive reasoning and reasoning that creates a new law. If there were a verse saying to bless over food before it, then it would be an ordinary Torah law. Now there isn’t. Since there is no verse, this reasoning—that it is forbidden to benefit from this world without a blessing—is not reasoning that interprets another verse. It is reasoning that creates a novel law, so it will not be Torah law; it will be a moral obligation, but not Torah law. That is exactly the difference between interpretive reasoning and reasoning that constitutes a new law. Fine. Anyone else? Okay, so good night. See you.

[Speaker B] Good night, thank you very much.