Talmudic Analysis – Lesson 13

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’ll get to that in a moment—whether it’s the same mechanism or not. On the face of it, the Talmud rejects it. The Talmud says this can’t be; it only works with an important person. With an ordinary person it won’t work. If it belonged to the family of the previous cases, it should have worked for any person. We just did some manipulations here and in the end we got to a case where she gives him the money and also becomes betrothed to him. That doesn’t work. But notice why it doesn’t work. The Talmud doesn’t say it doesn’t work because there’s a problem that she didn’t receive money, or that he didn’t give money. No—we solved that. Like the Canaanite slave case, everything is fine. The whole problem is simply a property-acquisition problem, because in acquisition by attachment you can’t transfer land by means of movable property. But were it not for such a rule—were it not for that rule in acquisition by attachment—then the betrothal could have worked even for an ordinary person, not only for an important person. And our problem is only a problem in the laws of acquisition; there’s no essential problem here. Okay? That’s an important point in the Talmud. Even though on the face of it this case doesn’t help us practically in Jewish law, it’s very important to notice that it fails for a side reason. We’ll see that in a moment.

Now, those are the cases. I now want to show this to you a bit graphically, so it’ll be more visual for you, and I’ll also be able to explain the claim. Okay, can you see? So we start with ordinary betrothal, right? We start from a point-like donkey, as physicists like to do. What is ordinary betrothal? The husband gives money to the woman—notice, the solid black arrow is the giving of the money, and the dashed arrow is the betrothal relation. Meaning: I give the money to the woman, and the woman becomes betrothed to me. That’s the ordinary case of betrothal. Okay?

What happens if I send an agent to betroth a woman? Notice: I’m basically sending—this is appointing agency. So-and-so appoints this other person as an agent. That person gives money to the woman, and the woman becomes betrothed to So-and-so. That’s an agent for delivery, an agent for betrothal. But that’s not the case we’re talking about. The case we’re talking about is, first, she did not appoint him as an agent, and the money of that third party is that third party’s money—not hers, not his, sorry, not his—so it’s not the money of the man doing the betrothal; it’s the money of the agent. Okay?

Now the guarantor rule, the third case, is this one. Notice: in ordinary betrothal, in the regular case—let’s recall that for a second—that’s our reference point, yes? The husband gives money to the woman, and the woman becomes betrothed to the husband. That’s the basic case. Now let’s see what happens relative to it in the guarantor rule. In the guarantor rule, the woman—So-and-so, the husband, is the husband—and instead of the husband giving money to the woman, which is the ordinary case, he gives money to another person, to a third party. And then the woman becomes betrothed to him. So basically the arrow moved—from an arrow pointing toward the woman to an arrow pointing toward another person. Right? That’s basically what the guarantor rule does: it moves the ordinary arrow of betrothal, the arrow of giving money, to a different recipient. Instead of the woman, there is another recipient. So in our language, we’d say it moves the head of the arrow. That is the transformation of guarantor. The guarantor transformation is to move the head of the arrow from the original case to another person. Okay?

What is the Canaanite slave rule? Let’s again recall the basic case. In the basic case, this arrow goes from So-and-so to the woman, the solid arrow, and then the woman becomes betrothed to So-and-so. What happens here? The tail of the arrow moves, not the head, right? In the guarantor rule, the arrow started here and its head moved to the third party. In the Canaanite slave rule, the head goes toward the woman just as in ordinary betrothal, but the tail moves from So-and-so to the third party. The giver of the money changes, okay? Not the receiver of the money.

So now, in pictorial language, guarantor and Canaanite slave become something that can already be defined completely formally. They are just transformations of the act of betrothal. If I have a given act of betrothal, the guarantor rule and the Canaanite slave rule tell me that you can move either the tail of the solid arrow or the head of the solid arrow, and the betrothal will still be valid. Okay?

Now what happens in the case of combining both? The case of combining both looks like this: “Here is a maneh; give a maneh to So-and-so and I will become betrothed to him.” Okay? What is that? Notice, I can build it this way. This was the Canaanite slave rule, right? So if I now take ordinary betrothal—ordinary betrothal has this arrow from So-and-so to the woman, right? Now I apply the Canaanite slave transformation to it, and I move the tail of the arrow to the third party. And now I apply the guarantor transformation: I take the head of the arrow and move it to So-and-so. Right? The guarantor transformation is moving the head of the arrow, and you get the case of combining both.

Of course, you can also do the reverse transformation. We start like this. We start with the guarantor transformation, and then this arrow goes from here to there, right? Then the Canaanite slave rule moves the tail of the arrow over here. Do you understand what we get? What do we get? That the woman gives money to the third party, and by that she becomes betrothed to So-and-so. Right? It’s not commutative. If I first apply guarantor and then Canaanite slave, the result is not the same as first applying Canaanite slave and then guarantor. And we get a different picture; simply the arrow shown here would come out reversed. If I start from guarantor and complete it with Canaanite slave, the arrow comes out reversed. Okay.

Now in fact that case, the second one, does not appear in the Talmud. But I’m saying by logic: if the Talmud treats this as some kind of group—and I’ll now explain what the concept of a group is—in mathematics, a group basically means this: I have my basic element, which is ordinary betrothal. Now I have two transformations: one transformation is called guarantor and one is called Canaanite slave. Moving the head or moving the tail of the solid arrow, okay? Now, every combination of such transformations is legitimate, because I can learn conceptually from guarantor and from Canaanite slave that moving the tail or moving the head doesn’t bother me. Now if that’s so, then of course I can continue this to infinity. I can move the tail here and that will be valid; I can move the head there afterward and that will also be valid; move the tail there, move the head like that. Every transformation I make should basically give me valid betrothal. Because I can learn it with the same logic of conceptual construction.

What am I really saying? I learn from guarantor that moving the tail doesn’t matter; I learn from the Canaanite slave rule that moving the head doesn’t matter; and therefore I have no problem. Now I can apply guarantor twice and Canaanite slave once, or Canaanite slave three times and guarantor once, or whatever you like. By the way, there aren’t that many combinations. Because think about it: if there are three parties—a woman, one man, and another man—how many kinds of diagrams can there be with two arrows? It could be that the two arrows—say one arrow is here and one arrow is here; it could be that I reverse them; it could be between these two, or I reverse them. The number of combinations isn’t all that large. You need to remember that these two men are interchangeable. Meaning, this picture for example—if I now make this arrow point toward one of them and reverse the other arrow—that’s not a different case; it’s the same case, except that one man is now called by the other one’s name and vice versa. Right? They’re two men; I don’t care what their names are. Okay. Therefore there are far fewer cases here than it seems. Far fewer. There are—I don’t remember, I did the calculation—maybe five cases or something like that, no more.

Okay. So basically this means: if I really assume that this thing—that this thing is not supposed to interfere—do you understand what the conclusion is? What is this? What is this picture? “Here is a maneh, and become betrothed to me.” That’s the fourth case in the Talmud, right? “Here is a maneh”—the woman gives; this is a woman, not a man, it’s just that the circle is too small so you can’t see the feminine marker. The woman gives the money to the husband and becomes betrothed to the husband. Remember? That’s the by-attachment case. Meaning, both the money and the woman are moving in the same direction. Then we have a problem with by-attachment: what is being acquired by means of what. But that is the fourth case that appears in the Talmud.

Now do you understand why this case appears in the Talmud even before the solutions involving by-attachment and an important person and so on? Why was it placed there in the first place? Because this too can be obtained by the transformation we’re performing on the previous cases. Just move the arrow one more time, that’s all. Take, for example, the case of combining both. Take that case and move the tail over here. Okay? Do you understand that what we got is exactly the case of an important person, right? So there’s no problem. By means of a Canaanite slave transformation—I think moving the tail is Canaanite slave—so by means of the tail-moving transformation, I get from there that this too is valid. That’s why the Talmud puts it here.

Now, ostensibly, the Talmud rejects it, so that breaks our group. But that’s not precise, because the Talmud rejects it for a side reason. The Talmud rejects it because I have problems with acquisition. It doesn’t bother the Talmud that the woman here did not receive money, or that the husband did not give money, or things like that. It doesn’t bother it; that doesn’t bother the Talmud. What bothers the Talmud is how we are doing acquisition by attachment here. Meaning that the Talmud probably, even in the final conclusion, also thinks that in principle there is a group here. Whatever transformation you make—I don’t care which one—what comes out is valid betrothal. And this is really a group structure. Wow.

Those of you who know—I don’t know whether you happened to study, say, the group of rotations—so in a rotation group, say I have rotations in two dimensions, say I have a vector like this and I can rotate it like this, I can rotate it like this. Okay? So now I can build any rotation I want, say like this, by combining those two rotations. It’s just a transformation group. Okay? So this group here, as we saw earlier, is not commutative. Not an abelian group, as it’s called in mathematics—an abelian group is when the order of operation doesn’t matter. Here the order of operation does matter. Meaning: Canaanite slave and then guarantor, or guarantor and then Canaanite slave, gives us different results. But never mind—it’s a group such that in the end, whatever we get, as long as it is an element in the group, it is valid betrothal.

So now if I need to check whether some structure counts as valid betrothal, I need to check whether I can take the basic betrothal—the husband gives money, the woman is betrothed to him—and build the betrothal under discussion by means of a series of guarantor and Canaanite slave transformations in some order until I get there. If that exists, then it should be valid—except for side cases like acquisition by attachment, where there is a problem. But in principle, from the standpoint of the laws of betrothal there is no problem; only from the standpoint of the laws of acquisition there is a problem, not from the standpoint of betrothal. Okay?

Now look—you can expand this further, of course, go wilder. You can say that one third party gives another third party money and the woman becomes betrothed to So-and-so. Why do I think that also works? Because let’s move the head of the arrow to the woman for a moment, right? So we performed a guarantor transformation. Now let’s move the tail from one third party to So-and-so; we’ve performed a Canaanite slave transformation, and there we have ordinary betrothal: So-and-so gives money to the woman and the woman becomes betrothed to him. Meaning that I can reach this picture from ordinary betrothal using the two legal transformations in this group. Okay? So basically this too should work.

Now that doesn’t appear in the Talmud at all, but I can prove from medieval authorities (Rishonim) and halakhic decisors that this is in fact true, that it works. And that is another confirmation of what I said earlier—that in my opinion there is a mathematical structure here; it’s not accidental. The Talmud understands that every composition of Canaanite slave and guarantor gives me a legitimate act of betrothal. It doesn’t matter in what order and how many times you do the transformation; every time you do it, I don’t care—as long as it’s one of those transformations, it shouldn’t invalidate the betrothal.

Now understand that this is really conceptual construction, but it’s a much more systematic way of looking at conceptual construction. Because what I’m really saying is: I have two source cases; every combination of them that I manage to produce basically gives me the same result. Usually we can’t think of more than one combination; we just join the two, like one who spits together with one who scatters and throws. But here is an example—and that’s why this case is so beautiful—because you really see the mathematical structure of conceptual construction. Conceptual construction is nothing but the composition of transformations in a group, that’s all. That’s what’s here.

And my claim is that this group is truly a group even on the halakhic level. I can prove it, by the way: it has an identity element, it has inverses—in other words, everything required in group theory can be proved here. And if it really is a group, that means I can now prove regarding many cases that they are valid betrothals. By the way, not that many. After this case there really aren’t any more, right? Because what would happen in the fifth? At most you’d move the arrow to a fifth person, okay, so the previous third party disappears from the picture and the fifth one becomes the fourth. There are only two arrows here; those two arrows can connect at most four people. No more. Either three, or two, or four—at most four, right? Two arrows can’t connect more than four people. So actually all the possible combinations are not all that many. There are a few, but not so many.

What I might be able to do, though, is try something like this—I’ll jump to the end in a moment just to show you. Say one third party gives another third party that money, but he doesn’t give it directly; he gives it by the rule of combining both. Meaning, this arrow itself is not a transfer of money, but an assignment by the rule of combining both. Then you get as many combinations as you want. So look here, just for amusement. “The commands of the Lord are upright, gladdening the heart,” as they say. There, you see? Meaning, what I’m doing here is replacing the arrow that goes from one third party to the other with a Canaanite slave or guarantor structure. And suddenly I do have a structure of five people. Or if you want something even more amusing, please. And if the assumption is that this is a group, then you can continue to infinity and everything will be valid betrothal.

Now I think this is very beautiful. I won’t get into all the details now; there are proofs here, and one has to check how many combinations there are and check each one to see whether it really works or doesn’t work. I won’t go into all those details, because that would require entering a huge number of fine distinctions. But I’ll try to show you what conceptual construction looks like. Conceptual construction, basically, in the cases we encountered, involves simple cases where there is one simple construction—just two building blocks that can simply be joined, and that’s it. It looks simple, yes, trivial; there doesn’t seem to be much play there. But behind it sits a mathematical structure.

Meaning, in this case, or in parallel cases where I can combine it in various ways, I may be able to derive from here many, many cases of betrothal, and about all of them I can check either that they belong to the group—meaning they can be built from a composition of the transformations—or that they do not belong to the group, in which case it is not betrothal, or at least the validity of the betrothal cannot be proved; maybe it is valid, but it cannot be proved. But if it belongs to the group, then it is valid.

Now, after I’ve built everything that belongs to the group, you can see that there are not too many possibilities until you get to these nested compositions. In these nested compositions, you simply insert any structure you want in place of an arrow, and then it’s infinite—meaning, as many as you want. Yes, because understand: the Talmud concludes with this. The Talmud says that just as in betrothal, so too in acquisition. Meaning that the transfer of the money from one third party to the woman, or from one third party to another third party, can itself be done through the Canaanite slave rule, or through the guarantor rule, or through the rule of combining both. And when I want to transfer something to someone, I can transfer it under guarantor, under Canaanite slave, under combining both, under whatever you like. Okay? So therefore, if this works also in the assignment of money and not only in betrothal—and there’s no reason not to, because it’s the same thing—then here you get all the nested structures you see here. Because then I replace the transfer of money with a whole structure of combining both: the transfer of money between one third party and another. Okay.

[Speaker B] Could one maybe say that acquisition by money has nothing to do at all with paying the value? Right—it’s simply some kind of commitment that is transferred.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it may be connected, but here we would have to get into the medieval authorities (Rishonim), which I didn’t do here. And the medieval authorities basically claim that every such transformation preserves the basic requirements. For example, if you give money to him and I become betrothed to you—okay—then when you gave the money to him, he is basically my agent for receiving the betrothal, not for receiving the money. My agent for receiving the betrothal. So that basically means that I—he received money and became betrothed, כביכול, in my name. So it’s like ordinary betrothal.

[Speaker B] Right, but I don’t know—that’s not acquisition in the broader sense…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But that’s the point—there is no “broader sense” here. We’re treating it formally.

[Speaker B] Meaning, acquisition—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Acquisition by money means that I received money. The only question is how I received the money—whether because he is my agent, or through benefit, as we discussed earlier, benefit from the fact that you gave him money at my instruction. It doesn’t matter. Somehow, in the end, the basic condition of what has to happen in betrothal was fulfilled. In betrothal, what has to happen is that I receive, and then I become betrothed to you. In all these cases, somehow it can be shown that I receive—either through an agent, or through benefit, or whatever, in one form or another.

[Speaker B] You’re not receiving the value; you’re receiving the betrothal. That’s the value. No, say not in betrothal—say I want to buy a field, and then I give him money and the field passes to you without the money then passing to you. Okay. So you didn’t pay the value of the field, so…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but that’s unrelated. Can’t I give you a field as a gift? You’re talking about money as an act of acquisition, not money as value.

[Speaker B] Yes, so acquisition-money is completely unrelated to value.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously. Acquisition by money is just a formal act. Transferring the consideration is a completely different topic. I can acquire the field by taking possession, and I would still need to pay you the amount the field is worth, because otherwise you won’t agree that I acquire it. The role of the money is only to satisfy you; it is not essential to the acquisition. If you waive it, then it isn’t needed. Only then we’d have to acquire by taking possession and not by money. It doesn’t matter. Understand: money functions here in two ways. First, it constitutes payment of the value; and second, it performs the formal legal act of acquisition. Okay?

Therefore there is a dispute between the Taz and the Shakh in section 194, whether it is connected to the money or returns—but is the acquisition-money part of the value, or is it separate money, and afterward the value still has to be paid in full? Okay? But that doesn’t matter for our purposes. I’m saying the money serves two functions here.

Now with a woman, the money has only one function. Because with a woman—this is Rabbi Chaim Ozer, quoted in Afikei Yam by his brother-in-law—he says that with a woman there is no value, and one who betroths a woman with a perutah is not buying her value, with the value being a perutah. Rather, it is a formal act of betrothal. Meaning, with a woman the money performs only the formal act of acquisition; it does not constitute payment of consideration. Now if the woman wants consideration in order to agree to become betrothed, that’s perfectly fine. She can refuse to become betrothed until you give her ten thousand dollars. No problem. But you don’t have to betroth her with ten thousand dollars. You need to give her ten thousand dollars so that she agrees. Once she agrees, give her a perutah and betroth her with the perutah. So the money that is the money of betrothal does not constitute—at least in the case of a woman—it does not constitute its value. It is not payment of consideration.

[Speaker B] Yes, that’s why I thought that in acquisition by money it’s more of a novelty. Because basically the woman—I mean, the recipient, the seller—doesn’t receive anything here. Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doesn’t receive, in the formal sense. Not that he doesn’t receive consideration—because if he doesn’t receive consideration, so what? If he waives it, then he doesn’t need to receive consideration. The whole question is how the acquisition happened formally. So I’m saying: if the problem is only formal, then there’s no problem. Formally I received money. Because he is my agent; he received money on my behalf. But the novelty is that he doesn’t have to transfer the money to me. The fact that he received money counts as if I received it. That we did not learn from the ordinary laws of agency; that has to be learned from the guarantor rule or the Canaanite slave rule. Okay?

[Speaker D] Why does he need to transfer it to me? I told him, come to the Haredim. What? Does he need to transfer it to me? I told him, come to the Haredim. He’ll notice if you didn’t understand the math.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I already have bitter experience with that. If you were ever in Kiryat Ono, for a few years in the Haredi branch, enrichment courses, I talked a little about logic and things like that. There was no one to talk to. Okay, anyway, back to our subject. Basically I just wanted to show this in order to complete this issue of conceptual construction. Conceptual construction is really to build a structure. You have several components, and you can combine them in various ways, like a puzzle, in various forms, and every structure that comes out is legal. That’s the whole idea of conceptual construction. Because if each component works on its own, then their combination also works. If each component on its own creates betrothal, then the combination of the two will also create betrothal. Okay? That is basically the idea of conceptual construction, which here you can see more sharply.

By the way, this issue of “Here is a maneh, and I will become betrothed to you” in the case of an important person—the medieval authorities (Rishonim) quote in the name of Behag that she is doubtfully betrothed. There are those who claim that she is even fully betrothed, and only rabbinically is she not betrothed—which sounds very strange. She gives the money and she becomes betrothed. The Talmud says that can’t be. Therefore it works only with an important person. But notice, I said: why can’t it be? Because of the laws of by-attachment. It’s not an essential problem. So there you have Behag saying: no, in principle this really is betrothal, at least doubtful betrothal. How does he deal with the Talmud? You can reconcile him with the Talmud. But on the principled level—what?

[Speaker B] Is the by-attachment problem some kind of decree? I don’t understand Behag. Say the by-attachment problem is some kind of rabbinic decree that they said, because this really—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not acquisition by attachment, so let’s not allow it. Exactly, exactly. It could be that it’s only a side issue. He claims that the side issue there in the Talmud is simply that in the ordinary laws of acquisition by attachment they do not want you to do the same thing. But that’s just a rabbinic problem. So he says that from the standpoint of the laws of betrothal there is no problem here. In terms of the act of betrothal, there was here a completely legitimate act of betrothal. Okay?

Good. Now I want to start the next topic, and I want to talk a little about the concepts of object-focused and person-focused. Meaning, I’ve finished with conceptual construction, common denominator, synthesis, analysis—we’ve finished that whole section, okay? Now I’ll begin the next stage, as much as we manage.

So I’m not talking right now about the expansions that Rabbi Chaim makes, yes?—where he took it to places far removed from the original meaning. In the original meaning, these concepts of object-focused and person-focused are basically taken from a passage at the beginning of tractate Nedarim. A passage at the beginning of Nedarim—actually in the first Mishnah in Nedarim. The Mishnah says as follows: “All substitute terms for vows are like vows; and for dedications, like dedications; and for oaths, like oaths; and for naziriteship, like naziriteship. One who says to his fellow: I am vowed away from you, separated from you, distanced from you, so that I will not eat yours,” etc.—Rabbi Akiva would hesitate over this to rule stringently. Never mind; that’s already a question of partial formulations or substitute terms.

In vows you have to make an explicit verbal declaration. In order to vow, you have to say it with your mouth. But the ordinary language of a vow is the full formulation. There are formulations that are not the full one and nevertheless can work. There are two such kinds: substitutes and handles. Substitutes are generally a language form; handles are partial formulations. Substitutes are perhaps other expressions, or language instituted by the Sages—a dispute in the Talmud; it doesn’t matter right now, it’s less important for us. But the Talmud says that substitute terms for vows are like vows. Meaning, if you vow in substitute language, not in the regular language, it is still a vow. It takes effect. And this is true for vows, dedications, oaths, and naziriteship. Okay, for all of them. And in all of these there is explicit verbal declaration, and all of them require speech, so speech in the form of a substitute also counts as speech.

In the Mishnah at the beginning of tractate Nazir a similar rule also appears: “All substitute terms for naziriteship are like naziriteship.” And that’s it. What about vows, dedications, and oaths? No—it mentions only naziriteship. So the Talmud in Nedarim asks: “All substitute terms for vows are like vows—why is it that regarding Nazir it does not teach all of them, and why is it that regarding Nedarim it teaches all of them?” In the Mishnah in Nazir they brought only substitute terms for naziriteship and didn’t bring oaths, vows, and dedications. And in the Mishnah in Nedarim, at the beginning of Nedarim, they brought all of them. Why? asks the Talmud. Why do we bring all of them here, whereas in Nazir only naziriteship is brought?

The Talmud says: because vow and oath are written together, it taught the two. Since vow and oath are written together, therefore the Mishnah in Nedarim brought both. And since it taught two, it taught them all. Okay? So once they brought both oaths and vows, they just brought everything. Fine? The Talmud asks: then let it teach substitute terms for oaths right after vows. If so, then why is the order: vows, dedications, oaths, and naziriteship? It should have been vows and oaths, and after that bring dedications and naziriteship, because vows and oaths are the basic motivation, since they are written together. Bring them first, and then add dedications and naziriteship.

The Talmud says: since it taught vows, where the object is prohibited to him, it also taught dedications, where the object is prohibited to him; this excludes oaths, where he prohibits himself from the object. Meaning, because in vows he prohibits the object to himself, so dedications too, where he prohibits the object to himself, were brought immediately after vows, because they are similar. And after that it moved to oaths, where in oaths he prohibits himself with respect to the object, and does not prohibit the object to himself. Okay? And what about naziriteship, according to this? Right—if naziriteship is… then naziriteship is either like oaths, or maybe something else entirely. I don’t know. But it isn’t like vows and dedications. Okay? So basically we have two or three categories. Vows and dedications are object-focused prohibitions. Oaths are person-focused prohibitions. And naziriteship—we’ll see. Okay? That’s the third thing.

Now let’s try to ask a question that maybe in the analytic Talmudic world people usually don’t ask. What’s the difference? Why are object-focused prohibition and person-focused prohibition different things? It’s the same thing. What—the object is obligated in commandments? It may not be eaten by me. What’s the difference between saying “I am forbidden to eat this” and “this thing is forbidden to be eaten by me”? What—the object committed the transgression? What? Isn’t this just saying the same thing in two forms? In one, in active language, and in the other, in passive language. What’s the difference?

[Speaker C] The difference is that it doesn’t apply to others. The difference is that it has no application to others.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, simply—the vow is forbidden only to me. I can’t prohibit it to others. My object I can prohibit to others, but my prohibitions are usually on me. So what’s the difference? Actually, I think I may have spoken about this in the first semester; I don’t remember anymore. There are inquiries that have no practical difference whatsoever. There’s no practical difference, for example, in the betrothal of a woman—I think I talked about that, right? So this—yes, for example, whether with regard to the Sabbath and saving a life the prohibition is entirely overridden or merely pushed aside. There is no practical difference whatsoever. Mere chatter. Tell me one practical difference between entirely overridden and pushed aside.

[Speaker B] Maybe if I repented… do I have to repent or what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s a suggestion that might come up here, but clearly it’s not right. Where there is—

[Speaker B] The lighter option first?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Where there is a lighter option first? Usually the medieval and later authorities say that if you have a way to do the lighter option first—if you have another easier, less severe way to do it—then you may not commit the more severe transgression. That would be if it’s merely pushed aside. And if it’s entirely overridden, then it’s entirely overridden. But that’s not correct, of course. What is permitted is what is necessary. What—when you have a sick person, are you allowed to fly abroad? You’re allowed to do what you need in order to heal the sick person. So if there is a way to heal him through a lighter prohibition, then even from the standpoint of “entirely overridden” you are forbidden to do the more severe prohibition, because it was not permitted if it is unnecessary. It was permitted only if it is necessary.

Now in the medieval authorities that’s the practical difference that is brought. In the medieval authorities and in the halakhic decisors, that’s the practical difference that is brought. But that is not a practical difference between entirely overridden and pushed aside. I don’t know what it is a difference between, but not between those two. There really is no difference between entirely overridden and pushed aside. They can argue whether everything was permitted or only what is needed was permitted. Fine. But don’t call that entirely overridden versus pushed aside. It has nothing to do with that. In both cases, only what is needed was permitted. What isn’t needed was not permitted.

Repenting is also not a practical difference. Yes—if it’s merely pushed aside, then ostensibly I committed a transgression. So if I committed a transgression, ostensibly I should need repentance, like for an inadvertent sin or something like that. And that’s absurd. I need to repent for something I was obligated to do? A commandment to do? Repent for that? After all, it is a commandment to desecrate the Sabbath in order to save lives. So how can one repent? And in that repentance I would also accept upon myself never to do it again in the future? I will never repeat that sin?

[Speaker B] But maybe it’s a kind of—you have no guilt, but it’s a kind of atonement you need, because it’s a kind of stain, as if you committed a sin. What do you mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what am I supposed to do with that? Okay, stains—and then what? Take a bath? What?

[Speaker B] Atonement. What kind of atonement?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What atonement? But I did what I was obligated to do; let the Holy One, blessed be He, bring atonement. He obligated me to do it, not me.

[Speaker B] What do you mean? Say, a sin for the sake of Heaven. Isn’t that still a sin? Yes, ostensibly.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m asking.

[Speaker B] So why is it called—like, it’s a kind of conflict and there’s nothing to do, but still he committed a transgression.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does it mean that he committed a transgression? He did what had to be done, what the Holy One, blessed be He, expects him to do.

[Speaker B] Yes, but maybe he defiled—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And damaged himself, even though he was obligated to do it? Damaged himself in what way? Some metaphysical practical difference? What? The question is whether something in him himself was damaged. Quite a few medieval and later authorities speak about the idea that in a place where you had to do the thing, there is also no spiritual dulling. I’m not sure everyone agrees with that, but many say it. For example, in tractate Ketubot on page 60, there it says that an infant nurses and continues. What happens with an infant nursing from a non-Jewish wet nurse? And the claim is that the milk of a non-Jewish wet nurse dulls the soul. But if his mother has no milk, there’s no choice; he has to nurse. So the Ran there… okay. Fine. According to those approaches, there still isn’t really a practical difference, but there is a difference between the two formulations. No practical difference, but there is a difference between the two formulations. Here too there is no difference between the two formulations. Nothing at all.

You know, there are logical positivists, and they claim that a statement that does not stand the test of empirical verification is not a claim at all; it’s a pseudo-claim. They say, for example, that the claim that God exists, or that there are angels, or that there are no angels—whatever it may be—is not a claim at all. You can’t say of it true or false; it’s just a collection of words. It looks like a claim, but it claims nothing. A claim is only something that can be measured, checked, tested, falsified, confirmed.

That is an extreme approach, because according to that approach, if I say, for example, there are ten billion ants in the world—is that a claim? There’s no way to measure it, right? How are you going to measure how many ants there are right now in the whole world?

[Speaker B] Well, from humans to ants there is some possibility of measuring.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s something divine, so—

[Speaker B] Maybe—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] God too can measure it, if He exists. Right. So that too is a claim.

[Speaker B] And that’s something empirical.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so that too is a claim. But they say it isn’t a claim. Why? Just because.

[Speaker B] No, but still there is a difference. Why—what’s the difference? By the way, I don’t agree with the thing about God, but there is a difference. Ants can in principle be measured.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what? But if you can’t measure it, then what are you saying? God too can in principle be measured. If you had metaphysical X-ray eyes, you could also measure whether He exists. You don’t have them—what can you do—but that’s only technical. Maybe there are eyes that measure godliness. Fine. Therefore I don’t see a principled difference between these two things. In any case, the claim here is that statements that don’t yield prediction about reality—prediction about reality—are not claims at all. I don’t accept that.

[Speaker D] But they say it’s not that kind of claim because it already becomes a fact.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, a claim is a factual claim—what do you mean? No, there are also factual claims that are false. For example, the claim that it is morning now. That’s a claim. You can check and see that it’s not true. Check and you’ll see that it’s not true, but it is still something that can be checked. In that sense it’s a claim. There are true claims and false claims. Something that cannot be checked is not a claim, according to them. At all. Meaning, it is not correct even to say of it that it is not true—it’s like saying “virtue is triangular.” Is that sentence true or false? Neither true nor false; it says nothing. It’s just a collection of words, not a sentence. What is there more of in the world, people’s kindness or water in the ocean? Or what’s the difference between a rabbit? You probably know that game. What’s the difference between a rabbit? That both its ears are longer than each other to the same degree. Fine—that’s nonsense, a sort of Lewis Carroll thing. And these are not claims at all; they’re just collections of words.

[Speaker B] Okay, so there isn’t—but it isn’t true.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. No, I don’t agree with the positivist claim. I think that even if it has no practical prediction, that does not mean the sentence has no meaning. It has meaning. So I can’t measure it—so what? To say that something like the number of ants in the world is not making a claim is ridiculous. I don’t know how to measure it, fine, so what? But clearly it’s a claim. Same thing with the claim that God exists. You can disbelieve in God; you can’t say that it’s not a factual claim. It is a factual claim. Maybe it can’t be measured—fine, okay.

So the same thing here as well: say, in entirely overridden versus pushed aside. So if I accept this idea of spiritual dulling, then I’m willing to accept that it’s a meaningful claim. But there is no point in dealing with that inquiry, because it has no practical difference whatsoever. And you won’t be able to resolve it either, because it has no practical difference. Because from where would you resolve it? You resolve such inquiries through practical consequences. So if there are none—it’s the same as a scientific theory: if there is no way to put it to an experimental test, then there is no point in formulating it, because it isn’t scientific. You can’t test it in a laboratory, even if it has meaning, even if you’re not a logical positivist. Fine.

So I’m saying: now in this case, returning to object-focused and person-focused, to close the parentheses—object-focused and person-focused—what is the difference between saying that he prohibited himself with respect to the object and saying that he prohibited the object to himself?

[Speaker B] So what are you saying—that there’s no practical difference?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ostensibly there’s nothing at all. What’s the difference between saying it one way or the other? Now in the Mishnah itself, in the Mishnah itself, it’s only an explanation for the order in which the things appear. The Talmud doesn’t bring any practical difference here, right? It only says why oaths were not written immediately after vows but later—because this is about the object and that is about the person. One may ask: okay, but practical difference in what? Is there really a difference between these two things? Now, true, the Talmud does not bring a practical difference, but if it says that the Mishnah was arranged—

[Speaker B] Okay, so fine, as I said, does the Talmud always deal only with cases where there is a practical difference?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe the fact that it gives a halakhic definition—it’s not dealing with cases here. It is giving a halakhic definition: this prohibits himself with respect to the object, and that prohibits the object to himself. And when you give a halakhic definition of that sort, if there is no practical difference at all, then why are you dealing with it?

[Speaker B] Isn’t it important that— no—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not important in any way, because you also don’t know how to resolve it. All in all, this is just how you explain the order of the Mishnah. You could also ask: where do you know this from at all? How do you know that this is how it works? But let’s leave that aside. Let’s say the Talmud knows whatever it knows for some reason—by tradition, by divine inspiration, I don’t know what. But it’s strange. Among the medieval authorities (Rishonim), practical ramifications really are brought. One practical ramification is brought in Tosafot there in Nedarim. Tosafot says that if a person makes a vow in the language of an oath, then it won’t take effect. For example, if he says, “I swear that this object is forbidden to me,” then you haven’t said anything, because an object that is forbidden to you is a vow. You can’t say “I swear” when the content of the oath is really a vow and not an oath. But of course that’s not really a practical ramification of anything. It’s like a practical ramification for betrothing a woman. If there really is a difference between the object being forbidden to him and he being forbidden with respect to the object, then you can tell me that if you said it in the language of the other one, you said nothing. But if I reach the conclusion that there is no difference between them, then even if you said it in the language of the other one there shouldn’t be any difference—you said the same thing. Therefore Tosafot cannot count as a practical ramification in the sense of a practical ramification that distinguishes between oaths and vows. It’s a consequence of the fact that there is a practical ramification, but it’s not itself the practical ramification. In this series we’re learning about conceptual analysis. There’s a ruling of Rabbi Yosei HaGelili that lesser sancta are the owner’s property. Once, when I learned that passage with my study partner, I said to him: in what sense is it the owner’s property? All that happens with lesser sancta, as opposed to most holy offerings, is that the owners eat the meat. Okay—but the Talmud, the Torah, Jewish law tells the owners exactly what they are and aren’t allowed to do, and in this case it isn’t burned but eaten, it isn’t given to the priests but eaten. So in what sense is it mine? Why is it mine? So he said to me: for betrothing a woman—you can betroth a woman with it. I said to him: betrothing a woman with it is not the practical ramification. After you say that it’s mine, the practical ramification is that you can betroth a woman with it. But I’m asking you: in what sense is it mine? Don’t bring me consequences as the definition of the thing itself. After I—after you’ve convinced me that it’s mine, the conclusion will be that I can also betroth a woman with it. But explain to me in what sense it’s mine if all I can do with it is what the Torah told me I’m allowed to do with it, and nothing beyond that. So what’s the difference between that and most holy offerings? If you convince me that it’s mine, then the conclusion will be that one can betroth a woman with it. So very often people bring practical ramifications and think that that’s what will actually make the distinction. For example, I ask: what is the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment? I spoke about this in the 8 a.m. classes a while ago. What is the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment? Preferable and prevalent? Yes, so that’s already the answer, but when I ask the question what the difference is between a positive commandment and a prohibition, there really is no difference. A lot of things that you think—we’re going to smash a lot of sacred cows for you. There’s no steak tastier than steak from a sacred cow, you know; that’s what Mark Twain said. The difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment does not exist. Because usually people think that a positive commandment means they impose on you an obligation to do something, and a prohibition means they impose on you an obligation not to do something. Okay, but that’s not true. There are positive commandments that tell you not to do something, for example: “for eating and not for commerce”—“for eating” is a positive commandment, and what it imposes on me is not to trade. Or “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood”—what is that? It’s a prohibition that imposes on me an obligation to act, to save someone who is drowning in a river or someone who is in danger. Okay? So that’s not really the difference between a positive commandment and a prohibition. So what is the difference? Again people tell me: for this you spend all your money, and for that you spend only a fifth, or that a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. You see there’s a difference? Do you understand that this is not the difference? If there is a difference between a positive commandment and a prohibition, then explain the difference to me, and afterward there will be consequences to it: that a positive commandment overrides a prohibition, that for a prohibition you have to spend all your money in order not to transgress, and for a positive commandment only up to a fifth, and so on. But first of all, you need to explain to me what the difference is between them. If a positive commandment and a prohibition are the same thing, then you tell me… and for this I spend all my money and for that not? But I’m asking you why. Why, if these are two identical commandments, do you spend all your money on this one and not on that one? Practical ramifications are not the difference—that’s what I want to illustrate here. When you bring me a consequence, the consequences don’t explain the difference. After I know what the difference is, I can get to the consequences, but the consequences are not the difference. And in this sense, by the way, this is a little against positivism, because positivism identifies the claim with its consequences. If there are no consequences, there is no claim. And I say that’s not true: there is a claim, and after there is a claim it also has consequences, but it’s not correct to identify the claim with its consequences. So why

[Speaker B] Are you saying that if there’s no practical ramification, then there’s no difference?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t understand?

[Speaker B] Could there be an essential difference without a practical ramification?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, so that’s what we talked about earlier. Yes. And I do not accept what the positivists say, which basically claims the same thing—that they say there’s no practical ramification, okay? Now here, in this case, I don’t even—I don’t even see the difference, not only that there’s no practical ramification. Isn’t it saying the same thing? To tell me “it is forbidden to eat the meat” or “the meat is forbidden to be eaten by me”—isn’t that saying the same thing? Here it’s no longer just a question of there being no practical ramification. Are you even saying two different things at all? Or is this just saying the same thing in two formulations? So actually, if you look—well, I’ll just say one sentence about this because I really do need to finish—but if you look at Jewish law as a collection of guidelines, instructions, norms, then it really is hard to see a difference between an object-based prohibition and a person-based prohibition. I claim that the difference exists because at the foundation of Jewish law there stands an ontic conception. We talked about this at some point: what is legal effect—what is legal effect? I don’t think we talked about this last semester, Yeshaya. The claim, basically, when I say that I forbid the object to myself, is that the object is an object of prohibition; a legal status of prohibition takes effect on it, and as a result I am forbidden to eat it. By contrast, in an oath, which is a rule pertaining to the person, there is no legal status of prohibition; it’s just forbidden for me to eat it. It’s like state law. State law says you’re not allowed to do this, you have to do that, and so on—there is no determination here about reality from which the laws are derived. Right? There are laws about what is permitted and what is forbidden. I claim that in Jewish law it is not like that. In law, truly there would be no difference between forbidding the object to me and forbidding me with respect to the object, but in Jewish law there is a difference, because when Jewish law says that there is an object-based prohibition, what it is really saying is that there is something in reality that rests on the object and turns it into an object of prohibition, and as a result I am forbidden to eat it. By contrast, in an oath, I am forbidden to eat the object, but no legal effect takes hold on anything. And we will see consequences of this difference, halakhic / of Jewish law consequences, but first I just want to sharpen the difference itself. Say, here

[Speaker B] I’m thinking of something—if there were an option, let’s say, okay, I swore that I won’t eat meat. So if there were an option of experiencing eating meat without actually eating, then would that be only an oath—there would only be a problem of the person and not of the object? Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. Even experiencing it—if you forbade yourself from eating and you only experience it, then it’s also not forbidden.

[Speaker B] The meat didn’t go inside; you just ate meat. It’s impossible—I know it’s impossible to separate that—but let’s say I experienced that I ate meat, then maybe I transgressed an oath.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s hard for me to discuss that. Experiencing is not the prohibition; the prohibition is to eat.

[Speaker B] But yes, to eat, because I had the pleasure.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He shoved it in with a spindle into his mouth—the Talmud in Ketubot 30, yes, “he shoved it in with a spindle into his mouth.” They force it into you, into the—so you don’t have an act of eating; they shoved it into your palate. According to the one who says it’s the pleasure of the throat and not the pleasure of the intestines, they shoved it inside him. So there’s no pleasure of the throat, but then there’s really no prohibition either, because the prohibition is the action. I don’t see it here. Okay, we’ll stop here because I just don’t want to miss the fellow.