Innovation, Conservatism, and Tradition – Lesson 14
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- The framework of the discussion: arguments, not arguers
- Motivation versus justification: Torah-level and rabbinic law
- The prohibition of “it is proper to forbid”: bal tosif and stringent Reformism
- Halakhic ruling, consultation, and the “Jewish cabinet of lies”
- Custom, the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom, and authority after the abolition of the Sanhedrin
- Ashkenazi and Sephardi customs and the authority of the Shulchan Arukh
- The prevailing practice in religious courts versus private halakhic ruling
- Technology on the Sabbath, the “smart home,” and the spirit of Jewish law
- Technology that makes prohibitions disappear: synthetic meat, pork, and wiping out Amalek
- Morality and Jewish law: slander in new technology
- Creative interpretation versus inventing prohibitions
- Igrot Moshe, the “Sabbath clock,” and rabbinic restrictions
- The thirty-nine categories of labor, significance, and room for flexibility on the Sabbath
- The Chazon Ish in Yoreh De’ah 150: interpreting a decree and the difficulty of authority
- Public authority, local rabbinic authority, and the Chief Rabbinate
Summary
Overview
The text argues that a conservative framework of commitment to Jewish law requires discussing the arguments themselves and not the identity of the speaker; therefore, even proposals from a Reform rabbi can be examined on their merits and some may be accepted, while an Orthodox rabbi can also suggest things that do not fit the halakhic framework. It distinguishes between the motivation to change and the halakhic justification that allows change, and argues that in Torah-level law only justification is decisive, while in rabbinic law motivation can suffice only when there is an authorized body such as the Sanhedrin. It sharply criticizes decisors who invent prohibitions or permissions on the basis of “it is proper” without anchoring them in a source, defines this as stringent Reformism of bal tosif, and presents a view according to which a rabbi who issues rulings is an expert and consultant, not someone with constitutive authority, whereas a religious court does decide with binding force. Through discussion of the “smart home,” the “Sabbath clock,” rabbinic restrictions, and conceptions of the thirty-nine categories of labor, it shows that on the Sabbath there are certain exceptional aspects related to the character of the day, but even there an interpretive framework is required rather than inventing prohibitions out of one’s own head.
The framework of the discussion: arguments, not arguers
The framework sets out a commitment to Jewish law that has boundaries, so not everything “fits” within it. The text states that proposals of a Reform rabbi like Solomon Freehof are examined on their merits and some of them may be worthy, while it is also possible for the position of an Orthodox rabbi not to meet the standards of commitment to Jewish law. The text presents Rabbi Ariel as an example of the other side of the equation: clearly Orthodox, yet his proposal raises a problem within this framework.
Motivation versus justification: Torah-level and rabbinic law
The text argues that in Torah-level law motivation has no real importance; what matters is halakhic justification through interpretation that succeeds in anchoring a change in a source. It compares this to the distinction between the context of discovery and the context of justification in philosophy of science, and says that motivation may drive the search but does not create change without justification. The text argues that in rabbinic law the sages can create a prohibition even without an interpretive mechanism, because they are producing new law by virtue of their authority, and Maimonides emphasizes that one must state that this is rabbinic so as not to stumble in bal tosif. The text says that this ability is limited to an authorized body such as the Sanhedrin or a body regarding which the rule of lo tasur was said, and it cites the dispute between Rashba and Tosafot in Rosh Hashanah 16 about the relation between rabbinic enactments and bal tosif.
The prohibition of “it is proper to forbid”: bal tosif and stringent Reformism
The text argues that a decisor—even an important one—cannot turn motivation into prohibition, neither in Torah law nor in rabbinic law, unless he is an authorized body. It defines as outrageous the formulation “it is proper to forbid, therefore it is forbidden,” and emphasizes that a decisor can at most say “it would be proper to refrain,” or anchor a prohibition in interpretation of an existing source. The text argues that there is no essential difference between Reformism that permits the forbidden and Reformism that forbids the permitted, because Jewish law obligates both against bal tosif and against bal tigra. It brings examples from the issue of women’s status in the synagogue, such as forbidding a woman to say words of Torah, an orphan’s kaddish said by a daughter, and a creative attempt to classify that kaddish under kol b’isha erva, and criticizes a discussion that simply counts “those who permit” and “those who forbid” without presenting the Torah-level or rabbinic clause by whose force the prohibition exists.
Halakhic ruling, consultation, and the “Jewish cabinet of lies”
The text argues that a rabbi who issues rulings has no constitutive status; he is a “halakhic consultant” who presents possibilities, sources, and rules, while the practical decision belongs to the questioner. The text says that in a religious court the judges do have constitutive standing because the ruling binds both parties, and therefore there there is room for considerations of legal certainty and prevailing practice. The text criticizes the language of “granting permission” and argues that a rabbi does not grant permissions but presents what the law says in his opinion; it cites Nadav Shnerb’s article about the “Jewish cabinet of lies” and claims that praising a rabbi “who succeeded in giving permission” describes a mechanism of falsehood. The text applies this to family planning and says that the decisor should lay out the full picture and leave the decision to the questioners according to “the heart knows its own bitterness.”
Custom, the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom, and authority after the abolition of the Sanhedrin
The text argues that there is no such thing as “prohibitions that began in the period of the medieval authorities (Rishonim)”—at most there is a custom that was accepted—and that one may not present a custom as a rabbinic or Torah prohibition. The text classifies the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom as a ban and not as a prohibition, and cites Rabbi Chaim Palaggi in the responsa Chayim Sha’al, who explains various clauses of the ban from halakhic sources and argues that Rabbeinu Gershom strengthened existing prohibitions rather than creating new ones. The text says that a ban has the force of excommunication and community enforcement when there is no judicial authority, and that not just anyone can excommunicate, since there are definitions and consent involved, with an exception in which anyone who hears “blasphemy toward Heaven or contempt for Torah scholars” can impose a ban by force of the Talmud. The text distinguishes between the spread of a rabbinic enactment as a condition for the validity of a rabbinic prohibition and the spread of a custom, which creates a customary obligation.
Ashkenazi and Sephardi customs and the authority of the Shulchan Arukh
The text argues that an Ashkenazi who follows Beit Yosef leniently in the laws of the Sabbath is not “desecrating the Sabbath,” but at most violates “do not forsake your mother’s teaching” in the customary sense, and therefore the laws of an apostate should not be applied to him. The text says that custom is mainly binding when “the law is uncertain in your hand—follow the custom,” but if a person has his own halakhic position he should follow it and not act merely because “we accepted the rulings of Maran.” The text defines the Shulchan Arukh as substantial authority like any other decisor, not as formal authority in the style of the Sanhedrin, and says that if a person thinks the Shulchan Arukh is mistaken, “I am forbidden to obey him.”
The prevailing practice in religious courts versus private halakhic ruling
The text argues that prevailing practice is mainly a tool of religious courts, because in a court a judge cannot impose a “personal position” against accepted legal norms when financial obligations and the need for legal certainty are involved. The text says that even there one should not exaggerate, because the existence of other opinions and other rulings prevents a total decision that erases alternatives.
Technology on the Sabbath, the “smart home,” and the spirit of Jewish law
The text quotes a journalistic description by Chaggai Huberman of a rabbis’ conference at which concern was raised about technology that reduces human involvement and therefore technically makes things easier, but may turn the Sabbath into a weekday. The text argues that in his view “the halakhic process stops” when there is no authorized halakhic source forbidding something; then the thing is permitted, and there is no authority to continue and create a prohibition by force of a feeling that the atmosphere is being damaged. The text interprets Rabbi Ariel’s statement as reported by Huberman—“we must stop the slide at its beginning… and determine that all these automatic matters will be forbidden”—as a tendency to prohibit without anchoring it in a principal category of labor, a derivative category, or a rabbinic prohibition, and defines this as a Reform argument of motivation without justification. The text rejects the term “the spirit of Jewish law” as a binding halakhic category, allowing it at most as a recommendation to refrain.
Technology that makes prohibitions disappear: synthetic meat, pork, and wiping out Amalek
The text describes a scenario of synthetic meat and milk that do not come from an animal and therefore are not “pork” and are not “meat” or “milk” halakhically, and presents a common reaction as anxiety over the collapse of Yoreh De’ah. The text says that in his eyes this is “the days of the Messiah,” and that there is no holiness in the practical existence of the prohibition of pork, only in not eating pork when there is pork. It compares this to the commandment to wipe out Amalek and to the commandment of sacrifices, and cites Maimonides in Sefer HaMitzvot, who distinguishes between a commandment not practiced for generations and a commandment that applies but is not currently feasible because of reality. The text rejects the idea of a “society for rare commandments” as an ethical necessity, and presents the principle that there is no need to “produce” situations in order to realize prohibitions.
Morality and Jewish law: slander in new technology
The text presents a hypothetical example of transmitting thoughts without speech in order to “speak slander” without making a sound, and says that even if this were formally permitted, an honest decisor should say, “morally it is not appropriate… but halakhically there is no prohibition,” and not invent a halakhic prohibition. The text says that the sages’ opposition to content that empties a commandment of its idea does not itself create a prohibition, but at most a moral or cultural stance. The text says that Jewish law functions as a legal system in which what matters is the legislated norm and not “the idea,” and compares this to tax planning, which is legally permitted even if someone says it is against “the spirit of the law.”
Creative interpretation versus inventing prohibitions
The text argues that interpretation includes an element of creativity and reasoning, and that this is legitimate so long as in the end an interpretive argument is presented that places a case within an original framework. The text cites the Chazon Ish as a case of an interpretive act in bringing electricity under the category of building, and argues that the question then is whether the interpretation is convincing, not whether it exceeds authority. The text presents this distinction through the example of Rabbi Akiva and Ben Petura concerning “and your brother shall live with you,” and says that reasoning decides interpretation but does not cancel the requirement to anchor it in the text; it also cites “you shall fear the Lord your God” as including Torah scholars as proof that one does not always extend a verse when there is nothing to lean on.
Igrot Moshe, the “Sabbath clock,” and rabbinic restrictions
The text cites Igrot Moshe, Orach Chayim 4:60, where Rabbi Moshe Feinstein says “it is forbidden to permit” labors by means of a Sabbath clock because it is a “great degradation of the Sabbath,” and adds that had this existed in the time of the Tannaim and Amoraim, “they would have forbidden it.” The text distinguishes between the argument of “degradation of the Sabbath” and the argument that “the sages would have forbidden it,” and says that the second by itself does not create authority. The text says that on the Sabbath there is a unique area of rabbinic restrictions meant to preserve the character of the day, whether Torah-level according to Nachmanides on Parashat Emor and the Ritva in Rosh Hashanah, or rabbinic according to the accepted view, and therefore it may be possible at that level to discuss prohibiting the “smart home” as part of the character of the Sabbath. The text notes the difficulty of defining what “the character of the Sabbath” is, and illustrates this with riding a bicycle, the muktzeh status of a fan, a telephone, and a television turned on before the Sabbath, emphasizing that much of what is called “character” is a product of habit created by the prohibitions of labor and not of the essence itself.
The thirty-nine categories of labor, significance, and room for flexibility on the Sabbath
The text suggests that in the laws of Sabbath labor there is broader room for interpretation, because according to some views the principal categories were counted according to “significant labors,” and therefore one might argue that a new significant labor is included in “you shall do no labor” by interpretation rather than by creating a new enactment. The text points to disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and Tosafot at the beginning of Bava Kamma and to versions of “that which was in the Tabernacle… was significant,” and presents the Chazon Ish’s idea of “two thousand years of Torah” as an assumption that may be disputed. The text says that here too the difference is between interpretation of what is included in the Torah prohibition and an attempt to “enact” new prohibitions without authority.
The Chazon Ish in Yoreh De’ah 150: interpreting a decree and the difficulty of authority
The text cites Chazon Ish, Yoreh De’ah 150:11, who asks how something can be forbidden if “according to the law it is certainly permitted” when no court sat and decreed it, and formulates an answer according to which the earlier authorities decreed on “the root of the matter” and entrusted later sages to judge the details according to “the instruction of analysis” in order to understand what is included “within their decree.” The text presents an interpretive possibility as though the Chazon Ish is giving a sage a “blank check” to forbid whatever seems proper to him, but says that in his opinion the language of the Chazon Ish fits better with interpretation of an existing decree and not with creating new decrees, and that even if the Chazon Ish meant more than that, the text does not agree.
Public authority, local rabbinic authority, and the Chief Rabbinate
The text argues that the authority of a local rabbinic leader or communal rabbi is authority “from below,” by virtue of communal acceptance, similar to “they accepted it upon themselves” and contract, and not by force of lo tasur. The text says that an individual can accept a decisor as an authority as a “community of one person,” but is not obligated to do so, and that even a community can revoke such acceptance when it was done on that understanding. The text says that the Chief Rabbinate has “no authority whatsoever” halakhically, only legal authority by force of state law.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All right, last time we finished the quasi-critical discussion of the proposals of the Reform rabbi, Moshe Zemer, and I tried to show two things. First of all, what does not fit into the flexible framework I outlined here—to try to show that there is still a framework here of conservative commitment, what I called commitment to Jewish law, into which not everything fits. And second, an attempt to show that different proposals that come up from—in this case—a Reform rabbi, need to be examined each on its own merits, and some of them, maybe all of them, it doesn’t matter, may certainly have a place. The fact that the speaker carries a certain label does not necessarily mean his arguments should be disqualified. And conversely, there can be claims by an Orthodox rabbi or an Orthodox person that do not fit the framework of commitment to Jewish law. So from the beginning I explained that I’m discussing arguments, not arguers, and those two things do not always line up. What I want to do today, or at least in the first part, is really to examine the other side of that equation: a proposal put forward by a recognized decisor, and the question is whether in my opinion it fits within the framework—in a somewhat different sense. There’s no doubt he’s Orthodox; I’m talking about Rabbi Ariel. And all the same, I think there’s some kind of problem here. And that shows the other side of the same equation. This discussion will connect to another point—the point I spoke about in my critique of Zemer. I said there that one of the problems with Reform proposals is that they make do with motivation and don’t always feel the need for justification. Meaning, if there is something that is not moral, or something that in their view needs to be changed, then it will be changed, period. In other words, there’s no need to look for a mechanism that would implement that change; motivation is enough. And in that context I said—and the proofs he brought from all kinds of familiar mechanisms in Jewish law—and I said that in this context one has to distinguish between Torah-level law and rabbinic law. In Torah-level law, motivation has no real importance. What matters is only justification. I compared this to the context of discovery and the context of justification in philosophy of science. Motivation basically tells us that we have good reasons to change or interpret a certain law in a certain way. And now the question is how you do it. So we look for interpretations until we either find one or don’t find one. If we find one, then we found the justification and then we’ll make the interpretive change. If we don’t find one, then motivation remains where it belongs and its honor remains in place, but it doesn’t help me. In other words, in order to implement such a change you need justification; motivation is not enough. That is in Torah-level law. In rabbinic law the situation is the reverse. Rabbinic law is a situation where we have motivation to change and no mechanism. That is, the sages sit and deliberate, and they think, for example, that poultry cooked with milk should be forbidden—a rabbinic prohibition. To forbid poultry with milk, and we have no mechanism that can bring this under Torah prohibitions, no interpretive mechanism. So the question is what do we do in such a case? In rabbinic law, the sages can determine that this thing is forbidden even without a mechanism. Motivation is enough. And the reason is that they are actually producing new law here; they don’t need to plant it inside existing law by interpretive means. Rather, they are creating new law. That is the authority given to them. For that, if they have motivation to say that it is forbidden, they can determine that this thing is forbidden and it will be forbidden. It will be forbidden rabbinically, of course, not at the Torah level. And Maimonides very much emphasizes that they have to state this, otherwise they both transgress and cause us to stumble in do not add. But there is a difference between Torah law and rabbinic law. And I said that in rabbinic law there is an important limitation, which is the limitation of authority. In order to determine that some rule should become binding rabbinic law—and not transgress do not add, meaning for it to be valid and not violate do not add—it has to be an authorized body. An authorized body means the Sanhedrin, or a body regarding which the law of do not deviate was said. And then in such a case, in Rosh Hashanah 16 there is a dispute between Rashba and Tosafot about how to understand the relation between rabbinic enactments and do not add. One says that do not add was never said at all with regard to the sages, and the other says it was, but they can deviate under certain circumstances. But for our purposes it is clear that Jewish law allows them to deviate, and therefore where they have motivation, even when they have no justification or no mechanism, they can innovate a prohibition. But this is only in the case of a body that was actually given authority to do this, to establish binding rabbinic laws. But an ordinary person, or even a very important decisor, cannot do such a thing. A decisor cannot say: I have motivation, therefore this thing is forbidden. “It is proper to forbid”—something we hear a lot from decisors—“it is proper to forbid, therefore it is forbidden.” That is a scandalous statement. “It is proper to forbid” means I have motivation. But you cannot turn motivation into prohibition, even in rabbinic law, unless you are a Sanhedrin. If you are not a Sanhedrin, then either you plant it within existing rabbinic law by interpretive means, and you are basically saying that that rabbinic law also includes this case because I have one interpretive consideration or another—or you are an authorized body. Or rather, if you’re not an authorized body, you can’t do it. All you can do is say: in my opinion it would be proper not to do this. I don’t have the power to forbid, but I’m telling you my opinion that it would be proper not to do it. There’s no problem with that. A decisor can say that. But a decisor cannot say: it would be proper to forbid this, therefore it is forbidden. Now it’s unbelievable how many times, among decisors, you hear these Reform-type statements. It would be proper to forbid this, therefore it is forbidden. And in this case, of course, it doesn’t arouse suspicion, because it goes in the stringent direction. They are forbidding something that really is not forbidden, so they’re not Reform. For us, Reform are only those who permit forbidden things, not those who forbid permitted things. But of course on the substantive level there is no difference. Do not add and do not subtract are both prohibitions, and within the framework Jewish law obligates us neither to add nor subtract. Therefore, on the substantive level, even if someone is stringent, he can be Reform. And many times I find in halakhic literature a decisor who says yes, this isn’t appropriate, this isn’t this, this isn’t that, and therefore I forbid it. What do you mean, you forbid it? Either find me a source from which such a prohibition can be extracted—a valid source, Torah-level or rabbinic—or if there is no such source, then say maybe I recommend not doing it. You cannot say it is forbidden. Okay? All kinds of things—for example, things relating to the status of women in the synagogue. You can see decisors forbidding a woman to say words of Torah in the synagogue; I’ve already seen things like that. Or a daughter’s orphan’s kaddish, or things of that sort. Now leave aside the dispute over whether it’s appropriate or not appropriate. I’m asking: even if it is appropriate, if you don’t find me a source that forbids it, then you can bend over backwards and dance a hora and that still doesn’t make it forbidden. You cannot establish prohibitions. All you can do is say, in my opinion it would be proper to refrain, or find a Torah-level or rabbinic source and say interpretively, in my opinion this falls under it. I once saw someone trying to place a daughter’s orphan’s kaddish under a woman’s voice is nakedness. Well, really, a very creative and unconvincing interpretation. But at least he’s trying to do it through interpretation and not by saying it’s not appropriate. Because this brings us back to a discussion I once had about first-order and second-order halakhic ruling. And what really made the penny drop for me in this context was an article by the rabbis of Beit Hillel about a daughter’s orphan’s kaddish. And the article somehow starts listing the decisors who permit and the decisors who forbid and so on, but nowhere does it present a source by whose force it can really be forbidden. What are they discussing? If you tell me: is this a woman’s voice, and then bring me decisors this way and that way as to whether it is a woman’s voice is nakedness or not, fine, I understand. But as long as you don’t bring me the Torah-level or rabbinic clause by whose force this thing is forbidden, then what is the discussion about? That decisor permits, and that decisor forbids—what, did he invent this prohibition? If he invented this prohibition, then it doesn’t interest my grandmother. Decisors cannot invent prohibitions. They can express an opinion on interpretation or on the parameters of one prohibition or another. They cannot invent prohibitions. And what hurts here is that the discussion treats decisors as though they are constitutive sources of prohibition, not interpretations of prohibition. That is a widespread problem, even in less charged areas like the laws of the Sabbath. There are Sabbath laws where a decisor comes and says, no, no, no, it can’t be that such a thing is permitted, and therefore clearly it must be forbidden. What do you mean? Do you have some principal category of labor, or a rabbinic prohibition established by the sages, something you can anchor this prohibition in? If yes, fine. If not, you cannot invent prohibitions just because you really want to. Or regarding bed rest in pregnancy—actually, sorry, family planning. I’ve been asked many times questions like whether one may delay, may not delay, and things of that sort. Now in that context too, people come to decisors and say: give me permission to delay having a child a little. We’re busy, we’re now in professional training, we’re in one kind of emotional pressure or another—give me permission. Now what does “give me permission” mean? Either there is permission or there isn’t permission. I can’t give you permission even if I really want to. All I can do is tell you: look, there is this and that source that has to be taken into account. If the situation is such and such, then in my opinion it does not fall under that source, or it does fall under that source. I cannot grant permissions. There’s an article by my friend Nadav Shnerb—he calls it, in his sharp style, “the Jewish cabinet of lies.” The Jewish cabinet of lies means exactly this kind of permission. A person comes to a rabbi and asks him to give permission. And then of course all the preachers praise the rabbi who succeeded in giving him permission. That rabbi is a liar. What do you mean, to give permission? If you say there is permission, then very good, you arrived through halakhic analysis at the conclusion that there is permission. If there is no permission, then you’re a liar. What does it mean that a rabbi gives permission? A rabbi cannot give permission. A rabbi can present to you what the sources of Jewish law say; he is not a constitutive source of law. A Sanhedrin can give permission; a rabbi who issues rulings cannot. A rabbi who issues rulings can tell you what he thinks Jewish law says, yes, but there’s no—he’s not… This whole ridiculous approach that the rabbi has to know the person standing before him and rule accordingly—it’s one big lie from beginning to end. The rabbi does not need to…
[Speaker B] Hello? Doesn’t interpretation contain a certain creative element?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t understand.
[Speaker B] Interpretation—when a person interprets, isn’t there a certain creative element in that? What’s
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the problem? Do as much creative interpretation as you want, as long as it’s interpretation.
[Speaker B] Yes, but in the end there’s an element here that comes from the decisor himself, no? He didn’t just copy and paste—move a book from one shelf to another.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He comes to interpret according to his understanding. As long as he is interpreting, that’s perfectly fine. You can accept it. But if he is interpreting, fine, that’s his role. But when he decides—not interprets—when he says: it is proper to forbid and therefore it is forbidden, he’s not saying: it seems to me that this falls under the definition of that and that prohibition.
[Speaker B] So Rabbi, what about, for example, the Noda B’Yehuda on hunting, the well-known question where he says there is no prohibition of needless destruction and no prohibition of causing suffering to animals, and afterwards he forbids it in a harsh and blunt way?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t remember the reasoning at the moment, but if he forbids it despite there being no connection to a prohibition, then he’s a liar. It’s a lie. Now I’m saying this with that kind of audacity, yes, because the Noda B’Yehuda really was vastly greater than I am. But the fact is that decisors do this at every step. They do it all the time without batting an eye, and it is simply a lie. It’s a lie from beginning to end. It’s a distorted conception of the role of the decisor.
[Speaker C] So wait, then what is the meaning of “there is someone to rely on”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Can you hear?
[Speaker C] There’s a common expression, many times: “there is someone to rely on.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, that’s fine. You can say there is such a halakhic opinion, there is another halakhic opinion, regarding interpretation of prohibitions—not regarding inventing prohibitions. Then you say, look, that interpretation seems to me a bit dubious, but if you’re in a difficult situation, there is someone you can rely on. That’s a valid claim. That’s not what I’m talking about. “Rabbi Shimon is worthy to rely on in a pressing situation”—the Talmud already speaks that way.
[Speaker B] Rabbi, according to those views that there is no separation between morality and Jewish law, suppose—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —that the rabbi quoted them.
[Speaker D] But most decisors, when they say “it is proper to forbid,” they say that strictly speaking it is permitted, but it is proper to forbid. It’s not “proper to forbid” in their eyes; it’s “the sages are not pleased with him”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] or all sorts of things in that style. That’s legitimate. It is completely legitimate for a decisor to say: listen, in my opinion it would be proper to refrain from this—not to forbid; there’s no such thing as “to forbid” here—but it would be proper to refrain from this, it’s not proper to do it. He cannot tell you it is forbidden, because there is no prohibition. That’s perfectly fine. That is exactly what should have been done in these cases. But for some reason, the decisors are not careful to do that. By the way, I found an explicit reference by the Chazon Ish to this issue. He invents some idea that does try to ground such an approach, but it’s really very strange. But he feels the difficulty. In that sense, he’s a bit of supporting evidence, even though he reaches the opposite conclusion. He does claim that a decisor can do this. I’ll get to that in a moment. In any case, I want to bring an example of this. It’s column 275 on my website, where they sent me a passage from an article by Chaggai Huberman, a former classmate of mine.
[Speaker D] But even the sages in the Talmud, after the Sanhedrin had already ended, they also forbade things of this kind—they forbade things because it was proper to forbid them. You understand?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. Unless they established a prohibition, and since we accepted the Talmud upon ourselves, then it became forbidden. They cannot establish a prohibition.
[Speaker D] So what about various prohibitions that began in the days of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and the Geonim because it was proper to forbid them?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Prohibitions that began in the days of the medieval authorities (Rishonim)” is the biggest lie there can be. There is no such thing as prohibitions that began in the days of the medieval authorities (Rishonim). You can institute a custom that began in the days of the medieval authorities (Rishonim), and that exists a lot—that’s exactly the point. And it’s simply a lie. There’s no such thing. What do you mean, a prohibition that began in the days of the medieval authorities (Rishonim)? There’s no such thing. What is this, a Sanhedrin? By what authority does it bind me? You can say custom. Fine, then it will be a custom. But you cannot tell me that it thereby becomes a rabbinic prohibition, or a Torah prohibition, or any other prohibition. There’s no such thing.
[Speaker C] What category does the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom belong to?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The ban of Rabbeinu Gershom is exactly that category—it is a ban. There are responsa of Rabbi Chaim Palaggi, Chayim Sha’al, the responsa Chayim Sha’al, where he actually goes through the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom and explains each of the clauses—what is called the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom, though they’re not really all from Rabbeinu Gershom—but he goes through them. He explains these bans, each one from halakhic sources. Opening another person’s letter, things like that, from halakhic sources. And basically his claim is that Rabbeinu Gershom did not innovate these prohibitions. These were halakhic prohibitions that already existed before him, and they are forbidden according to the law itself; he merely reinforced them by means of a ban. That is his claim. And even if you don’t accept that, you can still say that it isn’t really forbidden, but there is a ban on it, the ban of the early authorities or whatever. Fine. There are certain definitions for imposing a ban; you can impose a ban, but you cannot establish a prohibition.
[Speaker D] Can you explain the matter of two wives? It was clear that in Talmudic times two wives were permitted.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. So there, that’s why there it’s only a ban. You really can’t say it is forbidden, indeed.
[Speaker E] So wait, then what is the meaning, basically, of halakhic ruling? According to what you’re saying, anyone who knows how to read and understand interpretation can basically
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] bring
[Speaker E] the different views and decide for himself what to do. So where is the meaning of halakhic ruling and rabbinic authority? What is the meaning of that?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You described exactly my position. Halakhic ruling has no meaning at all. Not in a court. Judges, with regard to the case that comes before them, are of course the ones who decide…
[Speaker F] Wait a second, you can’t
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] hear.
[Speaker F] Put Zoom on.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The judges, regarding the case that comes before them, are basically the ones who decide, and they do have constitutive standing. What they determine is the judgment that binds both sides. A rabbi who issues halakhic rulings has no standing. No standing at all. He is simply a halakhic consultant. A halakhic expert. I don’t know—I come to him and he lays out for me the various halakhic possibilities, what Jewish law says, what Jewish law does not say, because he is the expert. But he is not supposed to decide. He also can’t tell me, look, this is right and that isn’t. He can say that in his opinion this is right and in his opinion that is right, but fine, he can say it and I can choose not to listen. The rabbi is an expert in matters of Jewish law, that’s all. I discussed this in my book, in my trilogy, in the third volume—I discussed this at length. And really, in my opinion, decisors don’t correctly understand their role, because some of them don’t view it this way. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman actually brings—there is an interesting discussion in his responsa Minchat Shlomo, and from there it seems, at least regarding rabbinic law, that he wants to claim this really is the standing of the decisor. The Ketav Sofer says this even regarding Torah law. Therefore, for example, I mentioned earlier those who come to consult about family planning. All I can do is lay out before them the range of possibilities and say to them: these are the options, these are the prohibitions, this is what is permitted, these are the rules. Now decide whether your case falls under these rules or doesn’t fall under these rules, whether it is important enough for you, not important enough for you. Only you can decide. Decisions in general—this is a common mistake. A decisor is not supposed to make any decision, no decision whatsoever. That is not his role at all. The one who makes the decision is the questioner. What the decisor does is present to him the halakhic principles, the various opinions, the various interpretations, and from that point on he is supposed to leave the decision to the questioner. And regarding family planning, that was in an article I wrote and gave to a group of rabbis with whom we were dealing with the issue. And I told them I don’t understand this whole approach that says the decisor gives permissions and decides whether it is allowed for them or forbidden for them. The decisor cannot and should not decide anything. He has to lay out the picture before them and they will decide what to do. If they are more or less God-fearing, if it matters more or less to them, how much it troubles them—“the heart knows its own bitterness”—only they know; he doesn’t know. He can help them, he can say: listen, pay attention to this point, think about that point, accompany the process. But on the principled level he is not supposed to decide in their place. Who is he to decide?
[Speaker H] So Rabbi, what is the halakhic status of the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom? What—after all, it’s not forbidden, right? He couldn’t have forbidden it? So where does it stand on the scale of laws?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying, it depends which clause. If you’re talking about the clause of, for example, opening another person’s letter, then there Rabbi Chaim Palaggi argues that there is a prohibition of “do not go about as a talebearer among your people,” or whatever it may be. There is a prohibition there independent of Rabbeinu Gershom.
[Speaker H] What about two wives, for example?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying, with two wives the status is that of a ban. It is not a prohibition.
[Speaker H] What does a status of ban mean—what force does a ban have?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That they excommunicate you. You are under ban if you do it.
[Speaker H] They are allowed to excommunicate me while I’m acting in accordance with the Torah?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, yes. If you do something that is not proper or not moral—there is no halakhic prohibition in it, but it is not proper—then certainly they can excommunicate you. Yes. This was one of the tools available to decisors throughout the generations when they had no enforcement authority. There was no Sanhedrin, no agents of the religious court, no judicial autonomy for Jewish communities around the world. And their means of enforcing the norms they considered proper was a ban. Community enactments, or a communal ban, or whatever. Yes, that was what they used. Sometimes they used it too much, sometimes too little, but that was the tool they had, and that’s it. It cannot turn into a prohibition.
[Speaker H] So can every rabbi always enforce whatever he thinks?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I didn’t say that. There are definitions for this. There’s also plain common sense, by the way—fairly loose definitions—and there’s common sense as to when yes and when no. There has to be some kind of agreement; not just anyone can do it. There are certain cases where anyone can. For example, if someone hears blasphemy toward Heaven or contempt for Torah scholars, anyone who hears it can impose a ban. That’s written in the Talmud.
[Speaker H] Yes, yes, that’s a Talmudic rule, so that’s easier.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but again, the Talmud doesn’t excommunicate. The Talmud says that anyone who hears it can impose a ban. The one who imposes the ban is the hearer, not the Talmud.
[Speaker H] Fine, but the Talmud sets the definitions. The hearer has an existing alternative before him from the Talmud, that’s fine.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. But in other places the matter really is more vague and less defined. Still, such a tool exists. So that’s why I’m saying: it can be a custom, it can be— But a custom has to be accepted. The fact that a certain rabbi says that this is the proper way to act does not make it a custom. After everyone listens to him and actually behaves that way, then it can already become a custom, and then it really does have some kind of binding standing, even halakhically, because it is a binding custom.
[Speaker H] Like the decree about oil versus the decree about wine?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s already decrees, not custom.
[Speaker H] No, but also there, what wasn’t accepted then became as if not—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, but there it’s something else, because there we are talking about whether a decree was accepted or not accepted. Even with decrees and enactments of the sages there is a rule that if it did not spread among most of the public, it is null. But there, spreading among the public obligates not because of custom—because now we practice it and therefore it binds—but as the condition for an enactment to take effect. And after it spreads among the public, then it takes effect as a rabbinic prohibition and not as a custom. That is not what is being discussed here, because here we are talking about a body that was authorized—a Sanhedrin, yes? Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel. There was a Sanhedrin that established something. If it spreads throughout the public, it becomes a rabbinic prohibition. I’m talking about a situation where there is no authorized institution. Then there cannot be a rabbinic prohibition. There can still be a custom. If the whole public does it, then there is some kind of custom here. Yes, this is often the distinction in customs between Ashkenazim and Sephardim, yes? That Ashkenazim follow the Rema and Sephardim the Mechaber. Okay. Now suppose an Ashkenazi acted like the Mechaber leniently in the laws of the Sabbath. Did he desecrate the Sabbath? I think not. At most he violated “do not forsake your mother’s teaching,” or some customary rule like that, because the custom of Ashkenazim is to go with the Rema and not with the Mechaber. So he violated the rules of custom, and you can’t say he desecrated the Sabbath. A practical consequence would be the question whether he is an apostate. One who desecrates the Sabbath is an apostate. So this is, for example, a case where we’re not used to making the distinction. I’m muting here every two minutes, so help me. In other words, if someone is speaking, let him speak, and after he finishes let him close the microphone again, because there is noise here. So the claim is that… I don’t remember where I got cut off in the middle.
[Speaker I] The claim is that he only violates “do not forsake your mother’s teaching.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? I can’t hear.
[Speaker I] The Mechaber—you were talking about the Sephardi who behaves like an Ashkenazi.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, uh, yes. And there the common approach somehow is that this is called Sabbath desecration, but it’s not Sabbath desecration. What obligation does an Ashkenazi have to follow the Rema and not the Mechaber? It’s custom. And even as a custom, in my view, that only applies if he has no position of his own. But if he has a position of his own, like the Mechaber, then he should act like the Mechaber, whether leniently or stringently, because that is his position—not because it’s the Mechaber, but because that is his position. If he has no position, then what the Jerusalem Talmud says applies: if the Jewish law is shaky in your hands, follow the custom. If you have no position of your own, follow the custom. And the custom is that Ashkenazim follow the Rema and Sephardim follow the Mechaber. But that’s where I don’t have a position. If I do have a position, nobody can tell me, listen, desecrate the Sabbath because the custom is to desecrate the Sabbath. What does that mean, the custom is to desecrate the Sabbath? In my eyes, that’s Sabbath desecration.
[Speaker D] Yes, that’s very interesting, because among Sephardim there’s a rule: we accepted the rulings of Maran. Now, that rule has a very large number of exceptions, so it’s not really “we accepted the rulings of Maran”; it’s that we accepted the rulings of the halakhic decisors who interpreted—how should I explain it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The relation among Sephardim is generally to the authority of the Shulchan Arukh. I once spoke about the authority of the Shulchan Arukh—people think it’s some kind of Sanhedrin. All in all, the Shulchan Arukh was accepted as a text that carries weight, and therefore of course one should take it into account when coming to decide Jewish law, but that doesn’t mean that if I think against it, I have to obey it. Absolutely not. What are you talking about? If I have a clear position that the Shulchan Arukh is mistaken, then I’m forbidden to obey it—not only am I not obligated.
[Speaker D] So the Shulchan Arukh is basically substantive authority?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, like any halakhic decisor.
[Speaker H] And I don’t need—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —to have some other great authority…
[Speaker H] Rabbi, if you say, “if I think he’s not right, then I’m forbidden to follow him,” do I not need to lean on some other great authority or something? Can I be independent?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Depends how high the mirror is that stands before your eyes.
[Speaker H] Yes, okay, I understand.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine. In any case, for our purposes: when we examine what people generally discuss, and an error in judgment, then what people generally discuss really speaks mainly about religious courts, not about halakhic rulings. And in religious courts, judges do have a constitutive status. And that constitutive status of the judges takes us into a somewhat different world from the world of halakhic decisors. There there really is some obligation to go with the accepted norms, the customary norms—you can’t impose on the litigants a position that is, I’m saying this very simplistically, just your personal position. If most of the world… if most of the world doesn’t act that way, if people generally don’t rule that way, you can’t force me to pay money because that’s what you think. So you think that—and because I happened to come be judged before you, so what? Like in any legal system, some kind of legal certainty is required, or some kind of stability in the principles by which we judge. And therefore, in religious courts the situation really is somewhat different. There there is some status to the question of how people customarily rule. But even there one has to be careful not to overdo it. Meaning, fine, the fact that people are accustomed to rule a certain way is fine, but if there are other opinions and there are also people who ruled differently, then you can’t say that the matter has been definitively decided, and you can still do what you think. Okay, so that’s for our purposes. The example I wanted to address is the example I mentioned of Rabbi Ariel regarding a smart home. So I said that someone sent me an article by Haggai Huberman in Matzav HaRuach, a kind of Sabbath pamphlet, about a conference of rabbis, which for some reason was a closed conference, and it dealt with matters of technology—how to relate to technology. So take a look: I’ll share with you the passages I brought from there. And again, you have to remember: this is obviously not a halakhic article and not a precise text; it’s a journalistic description of what happened there at the conference. So it has to be treated with limited confidence, but still, what he says is definitely worth discussing. He presents the conference’s question like this: future technology raises a very difficult halakhic problem. From a technical halakhic perspective, the forbidden labors are becoming less and less human, and therefore less prohibited, because there is less human involvement. But on the other hand, using this technology during the Sabbath will turn the Sabbath into a weekday, and will completely change our Sabbath atmosphere. What should Jewish law’s attitude be to this issue? Yes, I’m skipping a bit: it may be that no clause will be found in the Shulchan Arukh to prohibit it, but the Sabbath will nevertheless disappear over the horizon. How should one rule? What should the process of halakhic ruling be? This really touches directly on what I’ve been talking about here. Because in my approach, the process of ruling stops at the point where there is no—I call it a clause in the Shulchan Arukh, but I mean an authoritative halakhic source, not specifically a clause in the Shulchan Arukh—an authoritative halakhic source. That is where the process of halakhic ruling begins and ends. If you don’t find a clause in the Shulchan Arukh prohibiting it, then it’s permitted, period. Meaning, there is nothing to continue discussing. The discussion is over. And the moment people say, “Wait, but the Sabbath is becoming a weekday”—okay, so it’s becoming a weekday. That’s the situation. What can you do? Does that bother you? I understand. I can also argue with that, but let’s say I understand your distress. So take a pill. But the fact that something bothers you cannot turn it from permitted into prohibited. Either it was prohibited or it wasn’t prohibited.
[Speaker D] Unless the statement is more complex. They’re basically saying that the Sages established Sabbath prohibitions in order to give the Sabbath a certain character, and by permitting new things, we are—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not permitting—they are—
[Speaker D] They’re simply not prohibited, and we’re stripping away the character of the Sabbath.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, we’re not permitting; they’re simply not prohibited.
[Speaker H] Rabbi, even our Sabbath today is a weekday compared to the Sabbath two thousand years ago.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] People—
[Speaker H] They sat in the dark, they couldn’t heat anything—our Sabbath is also a weekday compared to what once was.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But again, I’ll get to this later—there is a certain uniqueness in the laws of the Sabbath, and I’ll get to it. I’m saying: ignore for now the fact that this is about the laws of the Sabbath in general. This opening presents the problem in its nakedness. And this opening, in and of itself, is not acceptable to me. This opening assumes that a halakhic decisor has some role and authority to deal with such questions, and in my view he has neither role nor authority. In a place where there is no halakhic source prohibiting something, the thing is permitted. Once I heard in the name of the old Klausenberger Rebbe that he said if Jewish law had not explicitly written that one may cut the challah on the Sabbath, then for him that too would have been prohibited. Meaning, everything that is permitted on the Sabbath needs a source permitting it; otherwise it’s prohibited. And that is of course utter nonsense. Meaning, it is obvious that in Jewish law, to prohibit something you need a source; to permit it, you do not need a source. Everything is permitted unless there is a source that prohibits it.
[Speaker B] But in that way the Torah becomes so irrelevant to life. I mean, another thousand years from now, maybe when technology bypasses most commandments and Jewish laws, we’ll be able to bypass them somehow, and the Torah will stop being relevant because we’re crippled, because we don’t have a Sanhedrin. How long can this continue? Surely, if there were a Sanhedrin it could enact ordinances, as it always did. It’s not that because there is no Sanhedrin, it’s not prohibited. No, but the Sanhedrin related to life and changed things and enacted ordinances. About the Sanhedrin we’ll talk—the Torah becomes…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But there isn’t one!
[Speaker B] So in the meantime the Torah should go down the drain and we’ll say, “There’s no Sanhedrin”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Torah isn’t going down the drain. The Torah remains: what it prohibits is prohibited and what it permits is permitted. And by the way, you’re assuming a lot of assumptions that I also don’t agree with. I’m conducting the discussion according to your approach, based on your assumptions. I don’t even agree with the assumptions. Meaning, from my perspective, if the Sabbath becomes a weekday, that’s excellent—there’s no problem at all—as long as we haven’t violated the thirty-nine primary categories of labor and their derivatives and rabbinic prohibitions, everything is fine. What do you mean?
[Speaker B] Wait, there’s a question. If communications and phones work without indirect causation upon indirect causation upon indirect causation—I don’t know, with something that would be permitted—then that’s excellent? And television and business and commerce, everything functions normally?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, let me slip something in, just a second. What I want to say is that yes, if it’s indirect causation upon indirect causation, and indirect causation upon indirect causation is permitted, then it’s permitted, period. And if that bothers you, take a pill. That’s all. You cannot create new prohibitions where there are none. You can invent a religion out of your own heart if you want—good health to you. But we are committed to Jewish law. And the fact that there is no Sanhedrin or there is a Sanhedrin—I don’t know—renew ordination if you accept Maimonides’ mechanism, and then maybe there will be a Sanhedrin. As long as there is no Sanhedrin, that is the Jewish law, period. And if the halakhic situation is problematic—and in my opinion too it’s problematic, not necessarily in these contexts, but it is problematic—so what can you do? What enters the halakhic framework enters it, and what doesn’t, doesn’t. Last time we spoke exactly about the Reform mixing of motivation and justification. And notice that what these ultra-Orthodox people are doing here is the same mixing—only in this case stringently rather than leniently. They are basically saying: once I have motivation to prohibit, then it is prohibited, even though there is no mechanism and no justification that prohibits it. That is Reform Judaism. In this case, it’s stringent Reform Judaism, but what difference does that make? It’s Reform Judaism in the sense of “do not add,” not “do not subtract.” Okay.
[Speaker J] Today there is electricity on the Sabbath, the refrigerator works, people go up in an elevator, they travel on a mobility scooter. A hundred years ago we wouldn’t have…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He would say… I’ll get to that, I’ll get to that in a moment, because specifically in the laws of the Sabbath there may indeed be room for such a consideration. But I’ll get there in a second. The principal claim is that the very posing of the issue for discussion already assumes something I don’t accept: that a halakhic decisor’s role and authority is to create new Jewish law. There is no such thing. A halakhic decisor cannot create new Jewish laws. A halakhic decisor can innovate in interpretation, interpret a halakhic source this way or that. A halakhic decisor cannot create new laws even if it seems right to him; that’s irrelevant. Now, the various electrical devices—those really are a new reality. But when halakhic decisors came to discuss that reality, they didn’t say: it would be proper to prohibit this because it turns the Sabbath into a weekday, and therefore it is prohibited. Rather, they tried to look for some primary category of labor or derivative, or some rabbinic prohibition, into which this thing would fit. Because if they don’t find one, then it won’t be prohibited. And again, this is the distinction that must be maintained, and often is not, between the motivation and the mechanism. And in this case, even with rabbinic prohibitions one has to maintain that distinction, unlike the case where there is a Sanhedrin, because we do not have a Sanhedrin. And when there is no Sanhedrin, then by force of motivation you cannot create Jewish law.
[Speaker D] It seems to me there is a halakhic consideration here—there’s the consideration of weekday-type activity, but I saw in your article that you say the difficulty there is that the person decides what counts as weekday-type activity, and then…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ll get to that. I said that in the laws of the Sabbath there is an exception, and that’s exactly what I meant. I’ll get to it in a moment. So this discussion—the framework of the discussion itself, in my opinion, assumes something I don’t agree with. Now Rabbi Ariel says there—or rather, Huberman writes the following sentence in his name: Rabbi Ariel said that we must stop the slide at its very beginning, and determine that all automatic matters… here he’s talking about a smart home, not about electricity on the Sabbath; that’s already one step further… determine that all automatic matters should be prohibited. Whatever is not accepted today should not be accepted tomorrow either, said Rabbi Ariel. Now here one has to pay attention to what exactly he means. I don’t know exactly what he means—again, this is a journalistic text. So I don’t know what he means. But he could mean one of two things. He could be saying: in my opinion this should be prohibited—which is completely legitimate—but there is no body that can prohibit it, and therefore it is not prohibited. Except that it doesn’t seem that that is what he means, because then what would be the point… Rather, he probably means that this body, or this conference of rabbis, should have issued a decision prohibiting a smart home without any clause in the Shulchan Arukh, without there being some primary category of labor or derivative or rabbinic prohibition that actually prohibits it. Everything may be fine, and yet it still needs to be prohibited. Once there was someone who showed me an article that appeared in some weekly leaflet from Alon Shevut, and someone there was talking about this—it connected for me with things I had said earlier about commandments becoming null in the future. Yes, in the future, once technology advances, then basically they’ll make meat not even from tissues, let’s say, but entirely synthetic; they’ll literally synthesize it. Tissues—you could still say that at the beginning there are still cells from an animal and we’re just growing a whole tissue from it. There one still has to discuss whether that has the status of meat, whether if it’s a pig cell then it would be pig. There is still something to discuss there. But what happens when we synthesize it in a lab from scratch? Meaning, we’ll take the molecules, combine them, make cells and tissues and everything out of them; it won’t come from anywhere, it won’t begin anywhere in some animal of any kind. In that situation, there is no doubt that it is not pig and not meat and not milk, and you can mix whatever you want and there will be no laws of mixtures and no meat-and-milk and none of that, and then basically you can throw all of Yoreh De’ah in the trash. Not all of Yoreh De’ah, but part of Yoreh De’ah in the trash. And it could be that with further technological development the rest of Yoreh De’ah could also be thrown in the trash, just like Orach Chayim regarding the laws of the Sabbath, as we discussed earlier. And there they were lamenting our bitter fate: what will we do, where are all the laws of meat and milk, laws of pig, laws of forbidden foods, and milk and fat and all those things, when everything can in principle be synthesized in a lab—it won’t be milk, it won’t be fat, it won’t be forbidden, everything will be permitted and available, and nothing will remain of Yoreh De’ah. So this was described there as a kind of apocalypse, yes, the collapse of Jewish law. And in my eyes, these are the messianic days. What—is there some holiness in the prohibition of pig such that it must appear and be realized in the world? It is prohibited to eat pig. What is not pig is no problem—eat it with appetite. That’s all. Why should I be troubled that there are prohibitions that cannot be realized? Yes, it’s like saying we need to produce Amalekites because today we cannot implement the commandment to wipe out Amalek. We don’t have Amalekites today. Maimonides already speaks about this. In the Book of Commandments, Maimonides makes a distinction. He says there is a rule that commandments not practiced for all generations are not counted. And regarding the commandment to wipe out Amalek, Maimonides says—he says there are those who ask why he himself counts the commandment to wipe out Amalek, seeing that it no longer applies in our generation. He says: whoever asks this question has not understood the matter of “practiced or not practiced for all generations.” A commandment like wiping out Amalek is a commandment that does apply for all generations. The fact that we don’t have Amalekites only means we have no way to implement it, but if there were Amalek today there would be an obligation to wipe him out. So that is a commandment that applies for all generations. A commandment that does not apply for all generations is a commandment like the jar of manna—“take some manna and place it in a jar”—or the fiery serpent. Those are the examples Maimonides himself brings. Yes, commands that were given in the wilderness in a certain situation—God told Moses to do something; it was true for that situation, at that time and place, and that was it, period. That is a temporary commandment, and it does not enter the count of the commandments. But a commandment like wiping out Amalek is a perpetual commandment that today we cannot implement. The same is true of all the sacrificial commandments. There are many commandments like that which today we cannot implement, but still… also the Sabbatical year nowadays is rabbinic, all kinds of things of that type where today we do not have the possibility to implement them, but that does not mean it’s a temporary commandment. Now what happens when we begin to eat synthetic pig produced in a laboratory? Has the prohibition of pig been erased from the Torah? Absolutely not. There is a prohibition against eating pig, a prohibition against eating that thing; it’s just that there are no pigs. So what’s the problem? Just as there are no Amalekites—there is a commandment to wipe out Amalekites, but there are no Amalekites. Why does that damage anything? I’m not violating the prohibition; the prohibition just has no object. It’s like—I mentioned once—that barbershop in Bnei Brak that I entered, and on the wall I saw: “A barbershop of righteous men.” I saw there on the wall that every person is an opportunity, from their point of view, to intend five commandments—to fulfill five commandments: “On that day you shall give him his wages,” “Do not delay,” “Do not round off the corners of your head,” there were all kinds of things like that. Yes, intentions to fulfill a prohibition. Meaning, this is an interesting innovation from the Bnei Brak sphere—that one has intention to fulfill a prohibition. I don’t know—with a prohibition, one need not fulfill anything. There is a prohibition against rounding off the corners of the head. If I didn’t violate the prohibition, then that’s it. I didn’t “fulfill” anything, because there is no obligation. I just didn’t violate the prohibition—that’s all. You don’t need mystical intentions about this and you don’t need anything. And if by chance I manage to produce a head that has no side-corners, then the prohibition “do not round off the corners of your head” becomes inapplicable—that’s all. There is no problem with that. You don’t need to produce heads so that the prohibition “do not round off the corners of your head” will have something to apply to. There is no such value, in my opinion. What, like some society for rare commandments? Just recently I saw one. Yes, redeeming a firstborn donkey, or the foreleg, cheeks, and stomach—I just saw on WhatsApp, they sent it around. Yes: come participate in the commandment of the foreleg, cheeks, and stomach. I don’t know—if that commandment hasn’t come my way, then I’ll occupy myself with the commandment of charity and the commandment of Torah study. I have no special interest in doing the commandment of the foreleg, cheeks, and stomach unless I happen to reach a situation where I really am obligated, and then I’ll do it. So in that context, people who are troubled by the fact that certain parts of Jewish law may disappear—I don’t see why one should be troubled by that. So they’ll disappear, that’s all—they’ll become irrelevant, inapplicable. That doesn’t mean the Torah was only right for its time. It is right today as well, but today it’s not applicable, that’s all. Everything is fine.
[Speaker K] Rabbi, what if one day there were, say, a technology that would let us transmit speech without mouthing the words? What kind of technology—hard to imagine it. Then I could speak slander, but halakhically it would be permitted? I didn’t produce a sound from my mouth, I didn’t… I didn’t hear what you said—what’s the technology? Let’s say there’s a technology by which I can transmit my statements to another person without speaking, without activating sound waves, but through some kind of actual reading of brain centers. Not sure that would be permitted. So I could then speak slander, tell my friend blatant slander, trash-talk someone a little, but it would be permitted by Torah law because I didn’t literally form the words with my lips? So the rabbi would say: fine, wonderful, excellent?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’d say this: first of all, I’m not at all sure that this consideration is correct—that one needs spoken speech in order to violate the prohibition of slander. If I transmit it to you in a letter or on a recording, over a loudspeaker or tape recorder or something like that, I think that would be slander in exactly the same way. And let’s say, for the sake of discussion, that you are really right, and there is no prohibition if I transmit it in this way—transportation of thoughts, yes? I transmit the slander to you in that way. Then one of two things—actually not one of two things; both are true: in the halakhic sense, it really is permitted. I’m not supposed to rejoice and celebrate as a result of that, because I think morally it’s problematic, even if halakhically it’s permitted. And then what I’d say to you is: look, morally it is improper to do this, but halakhically there is no prohibition. That is what, ostensibly, a straightforward halakhic decisor is supposed to tell you in such a situation—and not invent laws just because, heaven forbid, there is immoral conduct here. If the conduct is immoral, then say it’s immoral. But don’t invent laws in order to neutralize immoral behavior. Ika nami—that is exactly what I’m saying.
[Speaker D] But from the Talmud too you get the sense that if you hollow out the content—if halakhically it’s permitted but you hollow out the entire idea of the commandment—then the Talmudic sages too would oppose such things. This isn’t an invention of recent times.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And I too can oppose it. Opposing something does not make it prohibited. So the question is whether it is prohibited, or whether one should oppose it. I said: at least in the moral sphere, like the example of slander, I too would oppose it. In the example of pig, I don’t think there is anything to oppose; there’s no problem with it at all.
[Speaker D] The question is whether you relate to Jewish law only in the formal sense, or whether there are ideas that guide Jewish law.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying: I relate to Jewish law only in the formal sense. It may be that there is room to discuss moral questions, but then Jewish law is not the tool for dealing with them. I’ll say that morally it’s not okay to do it, but Jewish law prohibits what it prohibits. And more than that—even if in my eyes there are ideas behind Jewish law that it seeks to achieve, and it is reasonable that there are, still from the standpoint of halakhic conduct, we expound the reason of the verse—but in the end, what was prohibited was prohibited, and what is not prohibited is not prohibited, even if I don’t like it. What can I do? That is what is prohibited.
[Speaker K] Rabbi, this formalism is created by the separation between Jewish law and morality. Instead of asking what God wants from us—I don’t understand—God wants from us halakhically, say, one thing, but morally He doesn’t want it? That sounds puzzling. God halakhically wants it, but morally maybe doesn’t want it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We’ve already had this argument. In my eyes, it sounds puzzling to say anything else. So the question is what sounds puzzling. And apparently, on the question of what sounds puzzling, we won’t agree. But I’ll say again, independently of that, what I said before was precisely in order to neutralize this issue. I’m not claiming here that there are no ideas behind Jewish law. But the ideas do not determine. What determines is the halakhic ruling, not the ideas. That is the nature of Jewish law; that is the nature of a legal system in general. And therefore, even if there are ideas behind Jewish law, as long as I do not have the authority to determine how to implement them, I am bound by those laws that were enacted. If I think that in the State of Israel tax planning is improper, I may think that. But legally it is permitted. That’s it. So from the standpoint of the law, one who does it is perfectly fine. Perhaps one can criticize him morally—about that too one could argue—but there are those who criticize him on the moral level. So what? Does that make it prohibited? No. Because as long as it hasn’t been legislated, it is permitted. People will say, “But it’s against the idea of the law.” Correct—it’s against the idea of the law, but that is the meaning of law. The meaning of law is that it obligates because it was legislated, not because it is proper—as opposed to natural law, yes, the approach that blurs the difference between these two things. According to that approach, this is exactly the Reform Judaism I spoke about in the previous lesson. It basically says: forget what is fixed and what isn’t fixed; all that matters is the idea. That is exactly the Reform approach, of course.
[Speaker C] But interpretation also sometimes stems from an idea.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, so I’m saying: as long as in the end you finish with interpretation, that is completely legitimate. “Legitimate” doesn’t mean I’ll necessarily agree; I’ll examine the interpretation, and either I accept it or I don’t. But you have not exceeded your authority if you do that through interpretive means. But if you say, “It should be prohibited, therefore it is prohibited,” then you have exceeded your authority. At that point I don’t even need to argue with you. What I’m saying—
[Speaker C] But interpretation very often actually stems from the idea.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But the fact that it stems from the idea is fine. The idea can play a role in interpretation. But in the end, in the end, you have to tell me something interpretive. You have to explain to me which halakhic clause it falls under. That explanation, the interpretive one, will of course involve reasoning and ideas—that’s perfectly fine. There is no interpretation that is purely literal, obviously not. But in the end, you have to interpret. Like with a smart home. With a smart home, if in the end you fit electricity on the Sabbath into the category of building—which seems bizarre to many people, though in my eyes not so much; we once discussed this—still, the Chazon Ish argues that this is the labor of building, and therefore he acted within his authority. Other people can say, “Listen, it’s unreasonable to put this under building, and therefore in my opinion it doesn’t hold water; it’s wrong.” But you can’t claim that the Chazon Ish acted without authority, because he performed an interpretive act—sorry. What Rabbi Ariel is doing here is something else. He is not claiming that, from his perspective, with all the reasoning and so on, this falls under building. Rather, he is claiming that it should simply be prohibited, even though by all opinions it falls under no labor at all. That is the essence of his claim here. Again, I’m talking about the journalistic description of his claim; I didn’t hear his own words. That is problematic. That is a Reform statement.
[Speaker D] Meaning, with the concept called the spirit of Jewish law?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is no such thing as the spirit of Jewish law. No such creature exists. No such creature exists on the halakhic plane. You can say the spirit of Jewish law is uncomfortable with it, and therefore it is proper to refrain from doing it—that is a claim one can hear. You cannot say that because of that, it is prohibited. That is the whole difference between Jewish law and the spirit of Jewish law. Otherwise there is no meaning; everything is spirit. “Clouds and wind, but no rain.” This point is so common among both halakhic decisors and the public that it may sound surprising at first hearing, but this is Reform Judaism. It is Reform Judaism in a stringent form rather than a lenient one, but it is the same thing. You are inventing laws, and you are ignoring the distinction between motivation and justification. It cannot be that motivation determines the Jewish law. If motivation determines the Jewish law, then you simply do what you think, period. This is exactly the Reform identification of Jewish law with morality. The identification of Jewish law with morality is basically determining Jewish law based on motivations. If the moral motivation exists, then it is valid; if it does not exist, it is not valid. And it does not matter what was legislated and what was not legislated, what clause exists and what clause does not exist. Everything, everything goes back to the spirit.
[Speaker K] “The wind goes round and round.” But value changes—meaning changes, not values within halakhic values but moral values—aren’t the eternal considerations in the Torah. So on what basis, how can they change Jewish law according to the rabbi?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying—as I discussed then—either there are two interpretive possibilities within the halakhic framework, and you can choose the possibility that fits the contemporary concept, but it has to hold water halakhically. If the moral consideration cannot serve as an interpretive tool, then you are in a situation of conflict between Jewish law and morality, and you cannot change the Jewish law. You can say, yes, but morality can override Jewish law in certain circumstances—but you cannot interpret Jewish law according to those moral principles. That is exactly the point I made then. Fine, so I return to the smart home. There is an interesting source in Igrot Moshe, from Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, where he discusses a Sabbath timer in Orach Chayim 4, volume 4, section 60: “And in my humble opinion it is obvious that one must not permit this, because by means of such a timing device one can do all the labors on the Sabbath and in all the factories, and there is no greater degradation of the Sabbath than this. And it is clear that if this had existed in the time of the Tannaim and Amoraim, they would have prohibited it, just as they prohibited telling a non-Jew to do it”—that is, instructing a non-Jew. So here, ostensibly, there really is a consideration like Rabbi Ariel’s in the earlier phase—about electrical devices themselves, not about a smart home, but the idea is the same—and he is basically proposing here to prohibit the performance of labors by means of a Sabbath timer because it would turn the Sabbath into a weekday. Now here you have to pay attention: within the sentence I highlighted there are actually two different nuances, and it’s easy—but wrong—to mix them. One thing: “there is no greater degradation of the Sabbath than this.” That is one argument. The second: “it is clear that if this had existed in the time of the Tannaim and Amoraim, they would have prohibited it, just as they prohibited telling a non-Jew.” That is a different argument. What does that mean? One could say that if the Tannaim and Amoraim were alive today, then obviously they would prohibit it—but they are not alive today, and they did not prohibit it, and there is no authority that prohibited it. That by itself cannot serve as a basis for creating a prohibition. This is exactly the difference between motivation and mechanism. There’s nothing to be done—there is no mechanism, even if the motivation is understandable. What he says at the beginning, that there is no greater degradation of the Sabbath than this, brings me to the point I mentioned earlier. In the laws of the Sabbath specifically, there is a uniqueness that does not exist in other areas of Jewish law. There are what are called prohibitions of restfulness—whether Torah-level, as Nachmanides understands in Parashat Emor, or a rabbinic prohibition as in the accepted view—but there is a prohibition of preserving Sabbath restfulness. And that is understood as a prohibition to preserve the character of the Sabbath, meaning there is an obligation to preserve the Sabbath’s character. Things are prohibited that harm the character of the Sabbath, even if they have no authoritative halakhic source. Therefore, if indeed—and again, without going into it in detail—opening stores was raised in this context, to say simply that opening stores on the Sabbath and paying afterward, thereby bypassing the formal halakhic prohibitions involved, but in essence turning the Sabbath into a weekday—which is very reminiscent of the smart-home issue—in this case there is a prohibition of preserving restfulness. We derive it from “a Sabbath of complete rest”; we derive it from the Torah. And therefore this is evidence for his position. Because why indeed do I need to derive from the Torah that there is a prohibition—perhaps even a Torah-level one according to Nachmanides and the Ritva in Rosh Hashanah and others—of preserving the Sabbath’s character? Because in general, if there were no such source, the fact that the character of the Sabbath is harmed would not suffice to create a prohibition. You need the Torah to say that the Sabbath-rest must be preserved. There are prohibitions of restfulness. And then fine. Once Rabbi Shabtai Rappaport told me one should say “prohibitions of restfulness,” not “prohibitions of resting.” In any case, the fact that the Sabbath has these prohibitions actually makes things easier specifically regarding the Sabbath. It may be that there one can say that in such a case it will be prohibited because this is not a fitting Sabbath character.
[Speaker D] The question is how you define the character of the Sabbath.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, and that raises another difficult question that doesn’t concern us so much, but it really is an excellent question and I don’t have an answer to it. But halakhic decisors constantly bring such considerations, like riding a bicycle on the Sabbath. So there are those who tried to say that maybe he’ll fix it—fine? Therefore it’s prohibited. I don’t know, sounds dubious. So, the character of the Sabbath—yes, this is a prohibition of restfulness. What exactly here contradicts the character of the Sabbath? Why is it prohibited to ride a bicycle on the Sabbath? The prohibition on driving a car on the Sabbath is because there are prohibited labors involved. It’s not a problem of character; it’s a problem of prohibited labor. Now if I solved the labor prohibition, why do you think something remains here on the level of character? I’m speaking like Rabbi Kook. Why do you think there is still something here? It reminds me of the well-known discussion about a fan: is a fan a utensil whose primary function is for prohibited use? I argue that it is not. That doesn’t mean it is permitted to turn on a fan. Turning on a fan is not a prohibition of muktzeh; it is a prohibition of labor on the Sabbath. But I’m talking about moving a fan. A fan that is already on—can I move it, or is it muktzeh? I say that a fan is not a utensil whose primary function is for prohibited use. Why? Because one may cool off on the Sabbath. What is prohibited is turning on the fan; but cooling off—there is no problem with that at all. The function of this utensil is to provide cooling, not to be turned on. You turn it on so that it will cool—that is the mode of using it—but the purpose of the utensil is a permitted purpose. It is permitted to cool off on the Sabbath. And exactly the same thing I want to argue here. The prohibition on driving a car is not because the Sabbath becomes a weekday, but because there are prohibited labors in driving a car. So what exactly are the prohibitions of Sabbath character? I say that opening stores perhaps sounds more plausible in this regard, because that really is, I would say, something belonging to the six working days. “Six days shall you labor, and on the seventh day you shall rest.” So going to work is perhaps the most weekday-like thing I can think of, okay? And therefore there is indeed an article by Rabbi Yoel Bin Nun in which he once argued that the whole prohibition of carrying in and out on the Sabbath begins with the prohibition of commerce. His claim is that the fundamental prohibition on the Sabbath is the prohibition on doing commerce, and all the other things derive from that. An interesting article—I didn’t agree with him, but it has some interesting points. In any case, generally speaking, to close this parenthesis: it is very difficult to define what exactly the proper character of the Sabbath is. Everything we are used to as the character of the Sabbath is a result of prohibited labors. It is not the Sabbath’s character in itself. What—if I drive to synagogue, does that harm the character of the Sabbath more than if I walk to synagogue? Why? I save time. I can learn for another half hour if I drive. Learn Torah, yes? What’s wrong with that? Why is walking okay and driving not okay? Because driving involves prohibited labors. But now, after we’ve already gotten used to the labor prohibitions, suddenly driving on the Sabbath becomes against the character of the Sabbath. And that’s true—in terms of people’s feelings, it really does harm their sense of Sabbath character—but only because we got used to it. It doesn’t really contradict the idea of the Sabbath. There are labors prohibited on the Sabbath—that’s all. And therefore I think people do not distinguish between the character of the Sabbath as we have grown used to it and the character of the Sabbath as we understand how the Sabbath is supposed to be. Those are not the same thing. This takes me back to that tissue-grown pig. Yes, if I manage to find a case—a mobility scooter, say—where I travel on the Sabbath and everything is fine, then what is the problem? Why does that contradict the character of the Sabbath? It’s just the way I walk—I go on wheels instead of walking on my feet. So what? Is it prohibited to walk on the Sabbath? Within the boundary, everything is fine, yes? Only the mere fact that I’m using a mobility scooter? No—but people are used to the idea that using a car is problematic, and in consequence it has become a prohibition of restfulness. So they permit it in cases of great need and for the sick and things like that. But this really is, again, a question I don’t have an answer to, because there are prohibitions of restfulness in the Torah or in Jewish law—whether Torah or not Torah is already a dispute among medieval authorities—but in Jewish law. I don’t know where to draw the line, or how one determines what is called the character of the Sabbath. These feelings we have about what is proper and improper to do on the Sabbath are just conservatism toward things we’re used to. There is nothing in them that truly contradicts—at least as I understand it—the essence of the Sabbath. I don’t see what the problem is. Therefore, even regarding the Sabbath, I would go very close to the approach I described earlier regarding pig and meat with milk. A thing that was not prohibited is fine. What’s the problem? If there is no prohibited labor involved—if I did it by indirect causation upon indirect causation—everything is fine. Commerce perhaps really is exceptional in this matter, because there the feeling is that there is something not only habitual but genuinely belonging to the six weekdays. “Six days shall you labor, and on the seventh day you shall rest.” So there I can perhaps understand someone telling me that this really is a prohibition of restfulness.
[Speaker D] For example, using a cellphone—if you find a halakhic way to use it. Same thing. Is that also weekday-type activity or…?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I don’t think so. On the contrary—instead of speaking to the person next to you, you speak to America. What’s wrong with that? Study with him in a study-partnership over the phone or on some device. That’s why I say: now, almost every halakhic decisor would tell you that this is weekday-type activity. And I don’t have an alternative line—I don’t know how to define the concept of weekday-type activity differently. So it’s hard for me here to lay down firm rules, but on the face of it I don’t see why this contradicts the character of the Sabbath. If it involves prohibited labor, then it involves prohibited labor.
[Speaker D] Even television that was turned on before the Sabbath?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There was once some fantasy that it is prohibited to cool off on the Sabbath because it is prohibited to turn on the fan. What’s the problem with using air conditioning on the Sabbath or cooling things on the Sabbath? But today we’re very used to it. Using a refrigerator and an air conditioner doesn’t contradict the character of the Sabbath in anyone’s eyes today because we got used to it. It’s just a matter of habit. Yes, someone commented?
[Speaker D] Even television that was turned on before the Sabbath?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Perhaps, yes, why not? Then there is the issue that it makes noise—regarding noisy things there is the Talmudic concept that if something makes noise and it appears as though you activated it on the Sabbath, then they prohibited it even if you turned it on before the Sabbath. Fine—but those are serious halakhic considerations, and for every such thing you need a source. You can’t just invent restfulness prohibitions and things like that. The very fact that the Sages needed sources in order to prohibit these things shows that they too were aware of the point that having motivation is not enough to make something prohibited. Mute this. It’s the iPhone, the iPhone. So that’s regarding Reformism in a stringent form. Maybe two more comments and I’ll finish. One comment: I mentioned the Chazon Ish, that turning on electrical devices is prohibited because of building. Now in that context too, the Sabbath labors have something special, because according to certain medieval views, the Sabbath labors were counted according to what is significant. They collected the significant labors, and came up with a list of the thirty-nine primary categories of labor. If that is the conception, then there is room to say that if something is significant today, then it should be prohibited. So what if it didn’t exist in the time of the Sages? Since the prohibition is not specifically these thirty-nine categories, but rather the collection of significant labors—which, when they were gathered in the time of the Sages, came out to those thirty-nine—but today there are other significant labors. And that perhaps is what Rabbi Moshe Feinstein can say about a Sabbath timer: that if the Sages were alive today they would prohibit it, because this is a significant labor and it should enter the list of the thirty-nine labors, even though it did not exist in the time of the Sages and even though it does not fit as a derivative of any of them. So specifically in the laws of the Sabbath, once again, there is a uniqueness that allows more of this sort of Reform flexibility. Whether it was in the Tabernacle or not in the Tabernacle—that is exactly the dispute among the medieval authorities that I mentioned. Look in Tosafot at the beginning of Bava Kamma on page 2, in the Maharsha and Maharam there: “What was in the Tabernacle and was significant was made a primary category.”
[Speaker D] Thirty-nine.
[Speaker E] The categories of labor forbidden on the Sabbath—isn’t that what’s called a law given to Moses at Sinai?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I can’t hear, again, it’s too faint.
[Speaker E] I’m asking whether the thirty-nine primary categories of labor aren’t one of those things called a tradition given to Moses at Sinai?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, it’s—
[Speaker E] Some kind of tradition we received that isn’t…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the plain sense of the Talmud, no. In the plain sense of the Talmud, it looks like they derived it from thirty-nine in one place… these are contradictions between passages. There’s one source from which it sounds like they counted thirty-nine occurrences of the word “labor” in the Torah and then started classifying the known labors until they reached thirty-nine. And there are those who connect it to the Tabernacle—that’s the more accepted approach. There are combinations of the Tabernacle and importance. It starts with variant readings in the Talmud: “that which was in the Tabernacle and was significant was a primary category,” a Talmudic text at the beginning of tractate Bava Kamma. So the question is whether it’s “that which was in the Tabernacle was significant,” or “that which was in the Tabernacle and significant,” or whether it’s either Tabernacle or importance. There are different versions of this in the Talmud. But again, that would require me to get into other passages. I’m only showing that specifically with Sabbath prohibitions there really are unique phenomena, because with Sabbath prohibitions there truly is some broader, more amorphous substrate that really is open to the kinds of interpretations that halakhic decisors make. So specifically in the laws of the Sabbath, it may be possible to make these kinds of considerations, like the smart home or a Sabbath timer or things of that sort.
[Speaker D] We have no authority to enact forbidden labors. I can’t hear. We have no authority to enact forbidden labors even if they seem significant to us.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying, if you enact something, then that’s something else. But if you say no—this is what is included in “you shall do no labor”—then that’s not enacting, that’s interpretation of what the Torah says. So it’s interpretation; that’s exactly the difference.
[Speaker D] But “you shall do no labor” was stated according to the Oral Torah, the labors detailed in the Oral Torah.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is the Oral Torah? The Oral Torah says that “you shall do no labor” means the set of significant labors. Now what are the significant ones? Those established in the time of the Sages. Why in the time of the Sages? What sanctity is there to the time of the Sages? Significant labors—each person in his own time.
[Speaker D] There’s an approach that would say the Sages know what is truly significant.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, there’s such an approach, and there’s also an approach that says otherwise. That’s the Chazon Ish with the two thousand years of Torah—we talked about that—that’s the Chazon Ish’s invention. Maybe one last remark, and again, to the Chazon Ish’s credit, with all his conservatism he was very alert to these points—his innovative conservatism, I’d even say. And here’s one source, and with this I’ll finish.
[Speaker G] The Chazon Ish feels this difficulty—wait just one second, here.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, the Chazon Ish, Yoreh De’ah section 150, a generally interesting section, paragraph 11. Here: “We find in the Talmud many discussions about rabbinic decrees. At first glance this is difficult”—and notice, he’s talking about the Talmud, not about novel prohibitions, yes? We’re talking today—there are all kinds of halakhic decisors who discuss whether something is permitted or forbidden, and they say: look, it’s hard to forbid this at the Torah level, but rabbinically it is certainly forbidden. Why? Because it seems to me sufficiently forbidden that it can’t be that they would permit it. So therefore it’s rabbinically forbidden. This happens every day; decisors say this all the time. Now this is unbelievable. What do you mean, rabbinically forbidden? Something rabbinically forbidden is something that an authorized religious court sat down and forbade. Just because something seems to you worthy of being forbidden turns it into a rabbinic prohibition? Why, are you the Great Court? Not because you’re necessarily wrong—it may be that you’re right that it should be forbidden—but the fact that it should be is a motivation. Still, you see this all the time among decisors. So here the Chazon Ish comments on it: “We find in the Talmud many discussions about rabbinic decrees, and at first glance this is difficult, for according to the law it is certainly permitted to plant another vegetable next to them, and the matter is not fit to be forbidden”—it doesn’t matter right now, this is in the laws of mixed species—“unless a religious court sat on the matter and forbade it, and since no court was convened to decree it, why should it be forbidden?” Right—so it is appropriate to forbid it, very good, but so long as an authorized religious court, the Sanhedrin, has not sat and forbidden it, why should it be forbidden? From where does the prohibition come? “Rather, what the early authorities of blessed memory decreed, they decreed regarding the root of the matter that leads to the broadening of the commandment and its safeguarding, and they transmitted to the later sages the task of judging the additional details according to the guidance of analysis and the give-and-take of Torah law. And whatever seems to the sage fit to understand as included in their decree, that is indeed the intent of the decree-makers and the aim of their decree, for the decree of the Sages enters into the body of the Torah itself, to instruct regarding derivative cases according to the measure of the Torah and its understanding.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now here, you can get into this; you can read his wording precisely in various ways. The simple understanding is that he is basically saying that whatever seems to a sage worthy of being forbidden, he can forbid. How? Because the old Sanhedrin—it’s like acting as their agents, yes, an enactment of agency—the Sanhedrin of old basically established some sweeping rule that any significant halakhic decisor in any generation who sees fit to forbid something, we already forbid in advance with that in mind whatever he determines. And that’s how the mechanism is created when the motivation exists. I think that’s not what the Chazon Ish is saying, because he says there that whatever is included in the scope of their decree—that is, you can interpret a decree. That I certainly agree with. But it has to be interpretation of an earlier decree or of an earlier Torah law. It can’t be something you invent on your own, some kind of blank check that the Sanhedrin once established, that whatever any sage in any generation determines will be forbidden as a rabbinic prohibition. A sort of blank check like that is unreasonable. I don’t think that’s what he means. Even in his wording you constantly see that it is included within their decree. He’s talking about interpretation of a specific decree. He’s not talking about some blank check by which you can invent whatever decree you want. At least that’s how it seems to me. But even if he is talking about that, I don’t agree. So okay, look, at this stage we’re heading into the break between terms.
[Speaker B] Can I ask a short question?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, just a second, I’ll get to questions; I just want to finish the lecture. We’re going into the break between terms. This series on innovation and tradition—I still want to continue it a bit later on, so I’m not closing it here. In any case, this is where we stop; the next lecture is in Elul, the first Thursday that already falls in the month of Elul. Okay, yes, you can ask, comment.
[Speaker B] Rabbi, this separation—this absolute separation between motivation and mechanism—isn’t it a bit artificial? Because after all, for example, let’s take the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Petura, yes? About the two people who were walking and one flask of water and all that. So Rabbi Akiva suddenly discovers America and says, “and your brother shall live with you”—your life takes precedence over your fellow’s life. But it’s obvious, the way I understand it, it’s obvious that the verse could have been understood differently. It’s not that it necessarily comes from that; after all, this is a ruling with the full significance of human life. And he reads the—when I read it, I don’t think there’s no way to interpret “and your brother shall live with you” otherwise. This exposition is very weak to begin with. And nevertheless, since in terms of values he thought it was unacceptable to bring about the death of two people with no benefit at all, let’s say—I don’t agree with that view, but let’s say that was his approach—so he found the verse. And we see this all the time, that the Sages interpreted—right, they used a halakhic mechanism and attached it to verses and expositions—but in the end, what really decided it, what caused—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —them to do it, that’s the bottom line. You’re going back to your previous question, and I’ll give the same answer: of course reasoning plays a role in interpretation and exposition. That’s obvious. And obviously without the reasoning I wouldn’t have said it. But still, if in the end he grounds it in a verse, then true, one could have argued by reasoning and then it wouldn’t be written in the verse—but he understands that this is what the verse says. So that’s perfectly fine; he didn’t invent Jewish law, he thinks that’s what the verse says. If someone thinks otherwise, then he’ll disagree and not accept it—that’s perfectly fine.
[Speaker B] But if we had been able to ask him, Rabbi Akiva, leave aside your principled value judgment about what should happen here—are you really sure the verse can’t be interpreted otherwise? I think he would have answered honestly: if I didn’t have the value consideration, apparently I could also have interpreted it the opposite way.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’ll answer again—you’re returning to the same question and I’ll answer again. Rabbi Akiva would indeed answer like that, and rightly so, because reasoning is an interpretive tool. The verse can be interpreted otherwise, but on the basis of reasoning I think it should be interpreted this way.
[Speaker B] So it turns out the mechanism is just formalism, just technology. I’m not dismissing it—I think it’s very important because it makes us treat tradition with respect and understand that we’re not reinventing the wheel. It’s some very important conservative element.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But to separate them—no, that’s not right. Not right. I really do interpret the verse that way because that is my reasoning. It’s not that I’m playing games. If Rabbi Akiva didn’t think this fit into this verse, even if he had the reasoning, he wouldn’t say it. And the best example I brought for this point—maybe even in this series, I don’t remember—is “the Lord your God you shall fear,” again Rabbi Akiva, “to include Torah scholars.” There too it’s obvious that he hangs it on the word “et” when in fact he wants to introduce Torah scholars. But if you look at the back-and-forth between him and Shimon HaAmsuni, a Talmudic text in tractate Pesachim, then you’ll see that this isn’t true. The moment we don’t find what to derive from the word “et,” then we don’t include anything—we throw out the word “et.” It’s not like that. Reasoning takes part in interpretation, and that’s obvious. But in the end I really do think that this is the interpretation of the verse. Anyone who really thinks that interpreting a verse is only literal interpretation and detached from the interpreter’s reasoning is naive. It never works that way, and it shouldn’t work that way. That doesn’t mean he does whatever he wants, absolutely not. That’s his reasoning. That’s perfectly fine; that’s the reasoning he works with. Anyone else?
[Speaker D] Yes, after the Sanhedrin was abolished, how can we operate with Jewish law regarding things that change in the world?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean? Whatever falls within interpretation enters existing Jewish law, even if the circumstances are new, like electricity. If you fit it into the labor of building, then it’s forbidden. If you can’t make that work, then it won’t be forbidden.
[Speaker D] But isn’t that sometimes terribly—let’s call it—artificial? We expand the view of the Sages according to what happens today?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying, reasoning takes part in the interpretive process. That’s completely clear. But in the end, this interpretive process has to hold water.
[Speaker B] Yes, but Rabbi, after all the Sages said that one is appointed a judge on the Sanhedrin only if he can declare a creeping creature pure with one hundred and fifty arguments. So he can declare a creeping creature pure—he’ll find correct interpretive arguments that are unambiguous and have halakhic force and will be… Tell me, have you ever seen a judge who declared a creeping creature pure?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re repeating the same question. Have you ever seen a judge who declared a creeping creature pure?
[Speaker B] No, because his motivation was not to declare the creeping creature pure.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, not because of motivation. Because in the end that consideration is not correct. No, you can’t declare the creeping creature pure. That’s all.
[Speaker B] You can’t declare the creeping creature pure with one hundred and fifty arguments?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you can’t. You can raise one hundred and fifty arguments in favor of declaring the creeping creature pure, but there are also one hundred and fifty arguments for declaring it impure. And the one hundred and fifty arguments for impurity outweigh the one hundred and fifty arguments for purity. That’s all. And therefore this notion that you can do whatever you want is just postmodern demagoguery. It’s not true. The fact that things depend on reasoning does not mean that people do whatever they want. Absolutely not. There is such a thing in Jewish law as erring in judgment. Whose reasoning do we rely on?
[Speaker D] Whose reasoning do we rely on? It depends.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If there is a Sanhedrin, their reasoning is binding. If there is no Sanhedrin, then the reasoning of… each person rules for himself?
[Speaker D] Each person rules for himself? Right. Okay.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not only in reasoning—in everything, each person rules for himself.
[Speaker D] And if he’s not a Torah scholar?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he’s not a Torah scholar, let him go consult a Torah scholar. That’s what experts are for.
[Speaker D] Why—why is he halakhically obligated to consult?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] How do we get medical treatment? Are you a doctor? I don’t know; I’m not a doctor. How do I get treated? I go to a doctor who prescribes medicine for me. There are experts.
[Speaker D] But I don’t have an obligation to go to a Torah scholar.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, I also have no obligation to go to a doctor. If you don’t go to a sage and you yourself don’t know what to do, then you’re negligent. You have an obligation to go because you need to know what to do, not because there is an obligation to go to him. If you’re not capable of it, then you can’t decide Jewish law by yourself—that’s not serious. Not because it’s forbidden; there’s no prohibition.
[Speaker D] What are the criteria?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Criteria for whether you’re a Torah scholar or not.
[Speaker D] What—the public decides? You decide?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What are the criteria for being a halakhic decisor? Who decides? You decide, I decide—who decides?
[Speaker D] The public decides
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] who is a decisor.
[Speaker D] The public decides,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And who said that what the public decides is what determines? So I decide too.
[Speaker D] No, the public accepts upon itself the authority of the decisor.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The public accepts or doesn’t accept. So I accept my own authority upon myself. I said: according to the height of the mirror in front of your eyes.
[Speaker I] Rabbi, when a person accepts the authority of a certain rabbi or a certain decisor, then basically the content of that authority is supposed to be his trust in the judgment…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s not a simple question. Look, regarding the local rabbinic authority, there is a community that accepts upon itself the authority of the rabbi, at least for communal issues, okay? And then he truly has authority—authority that comes from below, as I’ve said more than once, not from above. It’s not “do not deviate,” but it comes from below like contract law, like “they accepted upon themselves” a religious court. Meaning, we accepted him upon ourselves and therefore it binds us—a kind of vow, if you like. As for an individual who accepts upon himself the authority of a decisor, he can do that, and then he is a one-person community. But he can also choose not to. He has no obligation to do that. By the way, even if he is ignorant, he has no obligation to do that. He doesn’t need to accept the authority of one particular decisor; he needs to ask questions of people who understand Jewish law, but it can be someone else each time. Rabbi, in order for that to be
[Speaker I] clear,
[Speaker B] the Rabbi said that basically the role of a rabbi—I very much agree—the role of a rabbi and halakhic decisor is basically to present the full spectrum of sources, and then the person needs afterward to decide for himself. I’m saying, as a doctor I see how when patients come and I present them with the range of possibilities, they’re not satisfied—they want to place the responsibility on me. And that’s also my feeling regarding the decisor: to place the responsibility on him, so that even if he’s wrong I can always say in heaven that he’s responsible.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, they want people to lie to them. Well known. So what? Because they want that, I have to lie to them? They want it. I completely agree. They want easy lives, as the song says.
[Speaker I] Rabbi, a community or a person who accepted some authority of a certain rabbi—is that what, a contract? Where does that bind them?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Like “they accepted upon themselves”—it’s a kind of contract. Like in a religious court. You can accept upon yourself even three cattle herders. They are not valid judges, but if both sides agree that these are the judges as far as they are concerned, then there is a contract between them. And that contract binds them to obey what the judges say.
[Speaker D] And they can’t cancel the contract at any moment? Do you hear? Suppose they accept a decisor as an authority and then he gives a ruling that the public is unhappy with, so they say, we don’t want him anymore. Can they do such a thing?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In principle, yes. And again, the prior acceptance is on that basis. It’s in contract law. Because from the outset they presumably intended—by the presumed intention—they did not mean to accept him whether for judgment or for error.
[Speaker D] But when the public chooses the decisor, why does the public need to choose the decisor if it can simply decide for itself?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If it is capable, then indeed it doesn’t need to.
[Speaker D] And bodies like the Chief Rabbinate or something like that—do they have some sort of authority?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know how familiar you are with my opinion of the Chief Rabbinate, but I’ll spare you that at this stage.
[Speaker D] No, I mean, say, the Chief Rabbinate at the establishment of the State, various things.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doesn’t matter—at the establishment of the State or not at the establishment of the State. An institution that should never have been established, and now that it exists, its remedy is its ruin. And of course it has no authority in the world whatsoever. It’s all inventions. It has the authority of the law, the law of the State. It has secular authority, not religious authority. Okay, friends, so may we have a pleasant and fruitful vacation.
[Speaker L] The next lecture is on the first of September, the fifth of Elul, Thursday.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] First of September, fifth of Elul. The other way around. Goodbye. Have a pleasant summer
[Speaker L] vacation.