Ta’amei HaMikra – Lesson 2
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 reason of the verse and the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda
- Jewish law and thought, and the direction between the two planes
- Access to the reason: rationalism versus empiricism
- Maimonides on the reasons for the commandments, and the discussion not being about whether they exist
- Rejecting the explanations: a slippery slope and fear of error
- When the reason is explicit in the Torah: Tosafot Rosh and the examination through the fifth root
- Nachmanides’s objections: do reason-verses add or detract halakhically?
- The Talmud on “and you heard the opposite from them” and the distinction when “the verse states it explicitly”
- Maimonides: “The Jewish law does not follow Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda” and a halakhic ruling like the first anonymous tanna
- The meaning of the first anonymous tanna’s view according to Maimonides: correcting the reason rather than changing the definition
- The example of Yom Kippur: “from evening to evening shall you rest your Sabbath” and the tension between a unit and individual moments
Summary
General Overview
Rabbi Shabtai asks to discuss the relationship between Jewish law and thought through the topic of ta’ama de-kra, and the point of departure is the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda over whether one derives the reason of the verse in order to shape the halakhic definition. He argues that for Maimonides it is obvious that commandments have reasons, but the dispute is whether one may take them into account in halakhic interpretation when there is tension between the wording and the reason. He suggests that the explanation for not deriving ta’ama de-kra is not a “slippery slope” and not fear of error, but rather that there is no point in deriving it, because the true reason must necessarily fit the verse, and if it does not fit, then one must correct one’s understanding of the reason rather than change the Jewish law. He bases this on a reading of Maimonides in the fifth root and in his ruling in the Laws of Kings, as against Nachmanides, and concludes with a more contemporary example about the Yom Kippur fast, in which an attempt to derive a halakhic definition from a teleological reasoning may push toward a renewed reading of the verse.
The reason of the verse and the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda
Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon disagree in Bava Metzia 115 regarding “You shall not take a widow’s garment as security,” where Rabbi Yehuda forbids taking a pledge from a widow whether poor or rich, while Rabbi Shimon permits taking a pledge from a wealthy widow and forbids it from a poor widow because of the suspicion created by returning the blanket and pillow at night. The Talmud concludes that according to Rabbi Shimon one derives ta’ama de-kra, and therefore the reason narrows the scope of the prohibition, while according to Rabbi Yehuda one does not derive it, and therefore “widow” includes every widow. The reason is presented as the rationale, purpose, or idea behind the command, and the issue touches the question whether one infers from the plane of thought to the plane of Jewish law, or leaves the Jewish law as the wording states it.
Jewish law and thought, and the direction between the two planes
The text presents the direction of formation as going from thought to Jewish law on the side of the Holy One, blessed be He, but from the learner’s side the natural direction is from Jewish law to thought, in an attempt to understand what lies behind it. Rabbi Shimon is presented as one who allows a “return” from thought back to Jewish law in order to adjust the halakhic definition to the purpose that has been clarified, whereas Rabbi Yehuda is presented as one who forbids such a return and leaves the conceptual conclusions outside the halakhic decision. The philosophical difficulty is described as a loop similar to problems in philosophy of science, where a theory derived from facts cannot later change the very facts on the basis of which it was built without becoming circular.
Access to the reason: rationalism versus empiricism
The text concludes that if Rabbi Shimon returns from the reason back to Jewish law, he apparently assumes direct access to the conceptual plane that does not depend only on halakhic data, such as tradition, kabbalah, or reasoning. Rabbi Yehuda is presented as one who has nothing but the Jewish law, and for him the reason is generated from the Jewish law, so there is no basis to alter the Jewish law in light of a reason learned from it. The framing is presented as a parallel tension between rationalism and empiricism on the question of the sources of knowledge.
Maimonides on the reasons for the commandments, and the discussion not being about whether they exist
Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed mocks anyone who thinks the commandments have no reasons, and states that such a claim makes the Holy One, blessed be He, worse than human beings, who act for reasons. The text clarifies that the discussion is not whether commandments have reasons, but whether one may take them into account in halakhic interpretation, and whether there is a practical separation between the “moral order” and the “analytical order” such that one should not mix the two planes.
Rejecting the explanations: a slippery slope and fear of error
The text brings a “slippery slope” explanation through Solomon saying, “I will take many wives and my heart will not turn away,” and Rabbi Ishmael saying, “I will read and not tilt,” but argues that this is at most a reason not to reveal reasons, lest people draw permissive conclusions for themselves, and not a reason not to derive the reason for purposes of establishing Jewish law. The text also brings an explanation based on fear of error and an analogy to the problem of induction, but argues that the alternative of not deriving is no better, because it leaves the ruling without any reasoning. Therefore, if one must “bet,” the reasonable bet is on the explained side. The text returns to the main proposal, that the problem is not prohibition or danger but lack of necessity, because a true reason must fit the verse, and if it does not fit, one corrects the reason.
When the reason is explicit in the Torah: Tosafot Rosh and the examination through the fifth root
Tosafot Rosh on Bava Metzia 91 is cited as holding that when the reason is clear one does derive ta’ama de-kra, and the text identifies in this a direction of “fear of error.” The text proposes a different test: a case where the Torah itself writes the reason, in which case there is no fear of error, and one can therefore check whether even there the derivation changes the Jewish law, or whether nothing changes because “there is nothing to derive.” From there it moves to Maimonides’ fifth root concerning reason-verses that appear in the language of a prohibition but are merely “the appearance of prohibitions” and are not commandments in their own right. It brings examples such as “her first husband… may not take her back… and you shall not bring sin upon the land” and “Do not profane your daughter… lest the land become licentious,” with Maimonides’ claim that “and you shall not bring sin upon the land” and “lest the land become licentious” are reasons for the preceding prohibition.
Nachmanides’s objections: do reason-verses add or detract halakhically?
Nachmanides, in his objections, argues that he did not find in the Talmud prohibitions considered superfluous merely because they are a reason for a previous prohibition; rather, the reason-verses come “to add or to detract,” or to teach a new law. Nachmanides brings as an example “He shall not take many wives for himself, lest his heart turn away,” and presents the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon: Rabbi Yehuda derives that the prohibition on taking many wives is because of “lest his heart turn away,” and therefore it is permitted to take many wives so long as they do not turn his heart away; while Rabbi Shimon derives that even one wife who turns his heart away is forbidden, and “he shall not take many” forbids multiplicity even if they are like Abigail. Nachmanides thereby poses a difficulty for Maimonides, because on his view too, a reason written in the Torah can generate a halakhic result.
The Talmud on “and you heard the opposite from them” and the distinction when “the verse states it explicitly”
The Talmud in Bava Metzia 115b asks that the dispute about the widow teaches that Rabbi Shimon derives the reason and Rabbi Yehuda does not, but a baraita on “He shall not take many wives for himself” seems to indicate the reverse. The Talmud answers: “Actually, Rabbi Yehuda does not derive the reason of the verse, but here it is different because the verse states it explicitly,” and explains that for Rabbi Yehuda here the reason is explicit, and therefore he derives it; whereas for Rabbi Shimon the explicit reason is superfluous because he would have derived it even without its being written, and so he turns “lest his heart turn away” into a separate prohibition. The text concludes that according to this reading, both Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon see the reason-verse as a factor with halakhic significance, contrary to the direction implied by Maimonides in the fifth root.
Maimonides: “The Jewish law does not follow Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda” and a halakhic ruling like the first anonymous tanna
Maimonides in his commentary to the Mishnah writes, “The Jewish law does not follow Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda,” and the text presents this as a conscious acceptance of a position that does not align with either of the two possibilities in the sugya of derivation. In the Laws of Kings, Maimonides rules on “He shall not take many wives for himself” up to eighteen, and forbids adding beyond that without distinguishing between wives who turn his heart away and wives like Abigail. The text shows that in the Mishnah in Sanhedrin there first appears the ruling, “He shall not take many wives for himself—only eighteen,” and after that come the words of Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon; it therefore suggests that Maimonides reads this as three opinions and rules like the first anonymous tanna. The text emphasizes that in Bava Metzia this is brought as a baraita and looks like only two opinions, but in the Mishnah in Sanhedrin a three-position reading is possible, and that is how Maimonides understands it.
The meaning of the first anonymous tanna’s view according to Maimonides: correcting the reason rather than changing the definition
The text explains that Rabbi Yehuda can be understood as one who does not derive the reason out of fear of error, but when “the verse states it explicitly” there is no such fear and therefore he does derive it; whereas the first anonymous tanna according to Maimonides does not derive it even when the reason is written, because there is no need to alter the Jewish law. The text argues that the first anonymous tanna does not deny the reason “lest his heart turn away,” but rather interprets the reason as fitting the verbal definition—for example, in that even taking many worthy wives distracts the king’s heart from his duties, and therefore the prohibition does not depend on their wickedness. The text concludes that fear of error is valid in the sense that the move from verse to reason may go wrong, but the conclusion is to correct one’s understanding of the reason so that it fits the definition, and not to shape a new halakhic definition that contradicts the wording of the verse.
The example of Yom Kippur: “from evening to evening shall you rest your Sabbath” and the tension between a unit and individual moments
The text brings the Binyan Tzion, who discusses a sick person who ate on Yom Kippur: must he continue fasting, or is the fast already “lost”? It presents a tendency to connect this to “from evening to evening shall you rest your Sabbath” as a command concerning a unit of a full day. The text describes a more analytical presentation that asks whether the obligation of Yom Kippur is an obligation of “every single moment” or an obligation of “one unit,” and connects this to the distinction between the prohibition of eating and the obligation to afflict oneself, and between measures such as “the size of a large date” and “the size of an olive,” where affliction is viewed as something extending over time. The text examines a practical difference in the case of a minor who becomes an adult in the middle of Yom Kippur: according to the “moments” model he would become obligated to continue the fast, whereas according to the “single unit” model he may be exempt because he can no longer fulfill the unit as a whole. The text points to the possibility that the reason of affliction across time may push toward a practical conclusion different from the formal reading of “one unit,” and concludes that where the Torah did not write the halakhic result explicitly and two interpretations of the verse are possible, there may be room to go back and revise the halakhic definition through a renewed reading of “from evening to evening shall you rest your Sabbath.”
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rabbi Shabtai asked to deal with the topic of Jewish law and thought, which naturally brings us to the topic of ta’ama de-kra. So I’ll try to touch on it a bit, the way I see it. Rabbi Shabtai also touched on it a bit in the source sheet.
[Speaker B] I told you, dozens of ulpanot, even.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Did you hear him? No. Again, the old man has to put it on. Whatever was, isn’t here. No, the beard hides it. What,
[Speaker B] The beard hides it? Of course.
[Speaker C] You’ll have the volume. The beard always causes the problems.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Can you hear now? Yes. Good. On the topic of ta’ama de-kra, so overall it seems to me this is familiar—that there’s a dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda whether one derives ta’ama de-kra or does not derive ta’ama de-kra. The source, if you want, is in Bava Metzia, on the first page before you, on the first page, Bava Metzia 115. There’s a Mishnah: “A widow, whether poor or rich, one does not take a pledge from her, as it is said: You shall not take a widow’s garment as security.” The Sages taught—the Talmud brings a baraita—”A widow, whether poor or rich, one does not take a pledge from her,” the words of Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Shimon says: From a wealthy widow one may take a pledge; from a poor widow one may not take a pledge, because you are obligated to return it to her, and you thereby give her a bad name among her neighbors. And they’ll suspect her? And they’ll suspect her too. Yes, him and her, doesn’t matter, but in the end the reason for the distinction between a poor widow and a wealthy widow doesn’t come from the poor widow’s misery, but from the fact that we may arrive at suspicions when I return the blanket and pillow to the widow toward night. Therefore, in effect, from a poor widow one does not take a pledge. Does this mean that Rabbi Yehuda does not derive the reason of the verse, while Rabbi Shimon does derive the reason of the verse? So the conclusion from here is that Rabbi Shimon derives ta’ama de-kra, and therefore he asks himself: Why do we return it? Why do we take or not take a pledge? Why is there a prohibition against taking a pledge from a widow? And from that reason he concludes that the prohibition was stated only regarding a poor widow and not a wealthy widow. Rabbi Yehuda does not derive ta’ama de-kra, and therefore he makes no distinction: both a poor widow and a wealthy widow—it’s written “widow,” and that means every widow. What exactly is this matter of not deriving ta’ama de-kra, and what is ta’ama de-kra בכלל? What is the relationship between the verse and its reason? In the verse appears a halakhic command. The reason for the halakhic command is usually the logic behind it, the goal it is meant to achieve, the idea it is meant to express, or in other words, you could call it the thought. That means, basically, there is here some contact with the question of the relationship between Jewish law and thought. Jewish law is the practical command—what is permitted to us, what we are obligated to do, and what we are forbidden to do. Thought is the ideas that stand behind the matter. And here the tannaim disagreed about what to do, what the relationship is, how to relate to these two planes. Am I allowed to derive the reason of the verse—that is, to infer conclusions from the conceptual plane to the halakhic plane—or not? And here, of course, it’s important to emphasize: Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed mocks those who think that commandments have no reasons. And Maimonides says that those people make the Holy One, blessed be He, worse than His creatures, because creatures generally, when they do something, do it for some reason. A person doesn’t do things for no reason. If you do something, apparently you had a reason for it. And if we say that the Holy One, blessed be He, has no reasons for the commandments He commands us, then that means He is acting arbitrarily, and so He would be worse than His creatures. Maimonides says that can’t be. Therefore it’s obvious that there are reasons for the commandments. The discussion here is not whether there are or are not reasons for the commandments. The discussion here is whether I’m allowed to take those reasons into account when I interpret the commandment itself—when I discuss what is imposed on me or forbidden to me, whether I need to take into account, whether I’m allowed to take into account, the plane of reasons as well, or whether I need to discuss the command as it stands before me. Can my halakhic interpretation take into account the conceptual background of the matter, or not? Or is there some sort of separation between the planes—there’s a conceptual plane, there’s a halakhic plane, and you’re not allowed to mix them? The conceptual plane is studied from five to seven in the ethics seder. The halakhic plane is studied in the analytical seder. You mustn’t mix those two discussions. Basically, if we had thought in advance about the question of the relationship between thought and Jewish law, and if we see that thought is nothing other than the ideas that stand behind the Jewish law, then the simple picture that emerges is that the direction of relation is from thought to Jewish law. At least one may speak that way from the standpoint of the Holy One, blessed be He. The Holy One, blessed be He, had some goal, some idea, He wanted to achieve something, and in order to achieve that thing He derived from His goals, from His aims, the commands, the laws. So He went in the direction from thought to Jewish law. Meaning, in order to achieve the goals, the ideas, we are supposed to fulfill the commandments or refrain from the prohibitions. When we try to discuss the relationship between those two planes, of course the situation is the opposite. For us, the commandments stand before us, and we ask ourselves: What stood behind them? Because we didn’t create the commandments; we interpret them. So we look at the commandments and try to understand what lies behind them, and thus somehow reach the conceptual plane. So from our perspective, the beginning is Jewish law and the continuation is thought. What Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon are basically saying is the following—let’s use this terminology. If indeed human beings or Torah students go from Jewish law to thought, because that’s the natural thing—we didn’t create it, we’re trying, as best we can, to examine what lay at the foundation of the Jewish laws, what the author of the Jewish laws wanted to achieve through them—then the question arises: Can we go back? That is, now we have a commandment, and through it we try to understand the idea behind it, and now Rabbi Shimon comes and says: Fine, now we go back. And after we’ve understood the idea behind the commandment, we also define it a bit differently, at least sometimes. We need to change the definition of the commandment a little so that it will fit. Rabbi Yehuda says you’re not allowed to go back. Stay there, that’s it. Learn thought; don’t go back. The afternoon seder is over—tomorrow morning we start again. Don’t go back to tomorrow morning’s seder with the conclusions of this afternoon. But Rabbi Shimon says you can go back. This thing is a bit problematic, a bit problematic. You can also connect it to problems in philosophy of science—completely parallel problems. Because if truly all the meaning, all my ability to reach the conceptual plane, is only through the halakhic facts, then how can it be that after I reach conceptual conclusions, something there doesn’t fit the Jewish law, and then I need to change the Jewish law so that it fits the thought? Meaning, if there is something here that doesn’t fit, that’s a sign that apparently we didn’t arrive at the right reasoning, because if we had arrived at the right reasoning, it should have fit the halakhic details.
[Speaker D] Maybe reality changed? What? Maybe reality changed? There’s a big change. Not related. The thought changed.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, let’s say it changed—so what? I don’t understand.
[Speaker B] But a widow is still a widow. Yes.
[Speaker D] Think again.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Think again, think again, but still not whatever you think. You start from the Jewish laws, and from them you derive reasoning or thought, let’s call it that now, right? Now the thoughts fit the Jewish laws or they don’t fit. If they fit, then no conflict arises—so what is there to derive the reason of the verse for? If they don’t fit, then stop before you even go back; apparently you didn’t define the thought correctly, because it doesn’t fit the halakhic details. In philosophy of science it’s exactly the same thing. Meaning, there too you build some theory—I don’t know, today especially in the social sciences, or the human sciences, it’s even more common. You build some theory—multiple intelligences. So what do you say? Let’s take the concept of intelligence and examine its characteristics. And when we try to distill its theoretical characteristics, we suddenly discover that it fits all sorts of other human abilities, not only… A sign that something in the theory isn’t working. You can’t then go back and say, okay, then apparently Maradona is also intelligent, because that too fits the abstract principles. And where did I get those principles from? I got them from my intuitive conceptions of what intelligence is. So that means something here is circular; something here can’t work. The only solution that can exist—and I return to the Torah plane—the solution from the Torah plane is another solution. But the solution from the Torah plane is apparently that Rabbi Shimon believes that we have some access to the conceptual plane not through the Jewish law. If it were through the Jewish law, this would be a loop that can’t stop, can’t really proceed. Apparently Rabbi Shimon holds that we have some direct access to the conceptual plane. We are not subject only to the Jewish law when we try to understand the thought behind it. We have some direct way to understand it somehow. And after we understand it, now we go back to the Jewish law. Something doesn’t fit, so we’ll organize it so it does fit—we’ll derive the reason of the verse and adapt the halakhic details to the conceptual plane. Sorry. Well then what? It doesn’t matter, I wasn’t talking about change, I was talking about interpretation. No, in such a case Rabbi Yehuda also derives the reason of the verse. In a case of two open possibilities, Rabbi Yehuda also derives the reason of the verse. What do you mean?
[Speaker C] No,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] At least the case here isn’t usually understood that way. The case here is understood to mean that the verse says every widow, but something doesn’t work for me with the reasoning behind it, so I qualify it. If it says widow somewhere, and that means every widow, that’s the straightforward Jewish law. I think that’s not correct; for that we’d need to see other sources. The medieval authorities (Rishonim) explicitly write in several places that if I have two possibilities, both of which fit the verse, Rabbi Yehuda also derives the reason of the verse. Rabbi Yehuda too will choose the one that fits the reason. We’re talking about a situation where there’s a conflict between the reason and the Jewish law.
[Speaker B] Between the plain interpretation, interpretation according to the wording, let’s call
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] it that, teleological interpretation and interpretation. Well, in any event, Rabbi Shimon’s return from the conceptual plane to the halakhic plane indicates that apparently he thinks we have some direct access to the conceptual plane, not through the Jewish law, and then it really is independent. We can examine whether it fits or doesn’t fit, and if necessary make adjustments. Rabbi Yehuda may not think so. Rabbi Yehuda says: I have nothing but the Jewish law. I go through the Jewish law, and at most I can try to understand what stands behind it. But how can one go back and fix the Jewish law? I have no direct way to reach the thought. So obviously he cannot derive the reason of the verse.
[Speaker C] The reason is created from within the Jewish law. Meaning, how can he reach thought? According to Rabbi Shimon, someone proficient in Jewish law reaches it with the result? He thinks he gets there not through the Jewish law.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question of rationalism versus empiricism—it appears everywhere. He can reach the reason for the Jewish law also not through the Jewish law. How? I don’t know—tradition, kabbalah, plain reasoning, all sorts of things; there can be all sorts of sources. He can arrive at it somehow. I’m not getting into that issue now, how. It obviously fits very well with other things we know about Rabbi Shimon, but I think it’s fairly called for. But never mind, I’m not dealing with that now. So what’s really the point? Then why don’t we derive the reason of the verse? As I presented it now, we don’t derive the reason of the verse not because it is forbidden, but because it won’t help us at all—it is impossible to derive the reason of the verse. Not that it is forbidden; it is impossible. Meaning, if there is some difference between what comes out of the reasons and what comes out of the Jewish law, we simply made a mistake in defining the reasons. That’s all. There is no prohibition here, no problem of maybe we’ll come to error, maybe we’ll sin, all kinds of other things. We simply made a mistake along the way, that’s all. If there is a problem, we made a mistake along the way. In fact, the reasons brought here by the medieval authorities (Rishonim), the reasons they bring for why we don’t derive the reason of the verse—there are some who mention the slippery slope. The slippery slope, yes, like Solomon who said: “I will take many wives and my heart will not turn away,” and in the end it did turn away. So we see that someone who relies on reasons may come to trouble, like Rabbi Ishmael who said: “I will read and not tilt.” Meaning, reasons are a problematic thing. But this is very difficult—there are medieval authorities who mention this—but it’s very difficult to understand that because of this we don’t derive the reason of the verse. And the reason is simple. That reason is a reason not to reveal the reason, not a reason not to derive it. Meaning, not to state the reason the Jewish law has. Because otherwise someone will say: Fine, if that reason doesn’t apply to me, then I won’t do it, and then he’ll come to sin. Even though the reason is truly correct—not that you got the reason wrong—but someone may draw overreaching conclusions and fall. Fine. So that’s a reason not to reveal the reason, but not a reason not to derive it. When I derive the reason, I can keep it in my pocket, but the reason will define what the Jewish law will be—whether it’s a poor widow or a wealthy widow. I need to know what the truth is. So what do I care if the greatest person in the world stumbled because he derived reasons? That’s a reason not to reveal; it’s not a reason not to derive. Therefore that cannot be the reason, as it seems to me. The second thing that comes up—and this also appears in the medieval authorities—is maybe you got it wrong. It could be that we won’t really manage to arrive at the correct reason out of the Jewish laws. The problem of induction, of course, if not fully logical. The question is really: which theory is correct? I can propose many theories, all of which fit the totality of facts in my possession. How will I know which of the theories is correct? Maybe I made a mistake? I also have difficulty with this explanation, even though it appears among more commentators, medieval authorities and others.
[Speaker B] Here the question is what the totality of facts is. The more basic question is what the totality of facts is. If among the totality of facts it is included that one also takes a pledge from a wealthy widow, then that’s part of the facts.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, fine, that’s exactly the point. I’ll return to that point—that’s where I was heading. Fine, I’ll get back to it. So this claim basically says: maybe you’ll make a mistake, maybe you’ll interpret it incorrectly. And therefore you’ll come to sin, or fail to fulfill the commandment, or transgress, or something like that. This reason too is very problematic. It’s very problematic because then what’s the alternative? Not to derive the reason? Which to my mind has a greater chance of being mistaken. Now I have two possibilities—exactly—I have two possibilities: to think or not to think, right? I have two possibilities. It says don’t take a widow’s pledge, right? Now there are two possibilities: either I derive the reason of the verse and understand that one does not take a widow’s pledge because of such-and-such reasons, and therefore this was said about a poor widow and not about a wealthy widow; or I ignore the reasons and say: whether a poor widow or a wealthy widow. Now what will be the truth? If they ask me what the truth will be, then if I have one side that is sensible reasoning, and the other side that has no reasoning at all and I don’t understand it—if I had to bet, I would bet on the side with the reasoning. Could I be wrong? Possibly. But that’s the best I’ve got. So why abandon the best option I have because maybe it isn’t correct? The second option appears even less likely to be correct. Meaning, not deriving the reason of the verse also apparently cannot be based on fear of error, not only not on the slippery slope problem. So what, then? So I return to the point with which I opened; I’m just giving the outline here. The point with which I opened is that we do not derive the reason of the verse not because of the slippery slope problem and not because of fear of error, but simply because there is no point in deriving the reason of the verse, since the reason of the verse will always fit the verse. And if it doesn’t fit, then you’ll correct it so that it does fit. Derive the reason, don’t derive the verse against the reason. Derive the reason in light of the verse, because if it doesn’t fit, then apparently that’s not the correct reason. Where do we see these things? So look. The explanation that relies on fear of error—one of the implications, for example, is Tosafot Rosh on Bava Metzia 91. Tosafot Rosh says that in a place where the reason is clear, then one does derive the reason of the verse. That strongly smells of the direction of fear of error. Meaning, where the reason is unclear, you don’t know—maybe it’s a mistake—but where the reason is clear, then there is no fear of error, and therefore one can derive the reason of the verse. But as I said earlier, this explanation seems problematic to me. Where will we be able to put our finger on it and see that if I’m right in the third suggestion—not slippery slope, not fear of error, but simply because there’s nothing to derive—where will that show up? It will show up where the reason is written explicitly in the Torah. Usually we have a verse: “You shall not take a widow’s garment as security.” It doesn’t say why. We start thinking why. Then there is a dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda whether one derives the reason of the verse or not. But if the reason were written—if the Torah itself wrote it—then there would be no problem, no fear of error. If there is no fear of error, then maybe in such a case we would derive the reason of the verse. So there maybe that will be a good indication to examine the proposal. Because as I said now, even if the reason is written explicitly in the Torah, we still would not derive it. Even in a place where the Torah explicitly writes the reason, we still would not derive the reason of the verse—not because there is fear of error, but simply because there is nothing to derive. We will reach the same conclusions from the reason as from the halakhic definition, from the wording. Good, so here we enter Maimonides’ fifth root. Yes. No, please.
[Speaker C] To draw other conclusions, to qualify the reason, to draw conclusions about topics we don’t know. Maybe that everyone does—who says not? Fine, that’s another sugya.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Something open, where you have no way to decide it—what are you supposed to do? Not derive the reason of the verse and do nothing? You do what you can, so you try to understand and draw the conclusion. We are always talking about a situation where there is a conflict, a conflict between the reason and the linguistic interpretation. Maimonides in the fifth root says as follows: “The fifth root: it is not proper to count the reason for a commandment as a commandment in itself. Sometimes in the reasons for the commandments there appears the form of prohibitions.” Meaning, in the Torah there are sometimes verses that write reasons, but the formulation looks like the formulation of prohibitions. We know that “beware,” “lest,” “do not,” and also “not” are language of prohibition. Sometimes the reason too is written in such language, and it looks like a command, looks like a prohibition. “And one might think that they should be counted individually among the commandments.” And this is like His saying, as an example: “Her first husband who sent her away may not take her again… and you shall not bring sin upon the land.” On the face of it, in a simple reading, that’s like two prohibitions: “Her first husband who sent her away may not take her again”—that’s one prohibition; “and you shall not bring sin upon the land”—that’s a second prohibition. Both use the word “not,” which is a word that marks a prohibition. Maimonides says: no. Here this is the appearance of a prohibition; it isn’t a prohibition. It merely resembles a prohibition. In truth it’s only a reason that comes to explain the prohibition. Therefore we do not count it in the enumeration of the commandments. “And you shall not bring sin upon the land” is a reason for prohibiting what came before, as if to say: if you do this now, you will increase corruption in the land. And similarly, “Do not profane your daughter to make her a harlot, lest the land become licentious”—where “lest the land become licentious” is a reason, as if to say that the reason for this prohibition is so that the land not become licentious. And so on—he brings several more examples. So Maimonides in this root—that is the field he is dealing with, right? The reasons written in the Torah. This is exactly the indication we are looking for: places where the Torah itself writes the reasons, not places where we speculatively raise some reason, but places where the Torah itself states the reasons. What does Maimonides say? That these reasons are altogether intended to give the reason for the preceding prohibition, and therefore we do not count them in the enumeration of the commandments. So far there’s still no indication for our issue. Nachmanides, in his objections to this root, says as follows. Basically, what comes before Nachmanides—what comes out of Maimonides—is that there are verses that did not come to teach us anything on the halakhic plane. Right? That’s basically what Maimonides is saying. The reason-verses have no significance; they simply explain the previous Jewish law, they have no halakhic significance.
[Speaker B] No, he doesn’t say that. No? He doesn’t say that. It could be that they qualify the Jewish law.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Nachmanides attacks him and argues that it can also be that the Jewish law is being qualified. He understood that Maimonides—and that really is the simpler reading of Maimonides—says no, it is only meant to give a reason. More than that, this is Maimonides’ general approach, and Nachmanides argues with him in other places too. In the second root, Maimonides says, for example, that the Torah repeats the command to keep the Sabbath twelve times. Why? To teach me that it is very important, that it is an important commandment. Nachmanides says, what do you mean? The Torah does not just write verses for nothing; it is supposed to teach me something. Meaning, some have already pointed out that there is some fundamental dispute here about how to relate to verses in the Torah—whether every verse is supposed to teach me something. He does not think every verse teaches me something halakhic / of Jewish law, because in “This month shall be for you” there are very few laws, but it is supposed to teach me something, and especially legal verses. So Nachmanides says as follows: we have not seen our rabbis in the Talmud treat the Torah’s prohibitions as unnecessary, existing only as a reason for the prohibition that came before them. We do not find such things. Unless they come to add or subtract. If they come to change something, to explain something to us in Jewish law or in the earlier formulation, to help us expound the reason of the verse, to shape the Jewish law in light of the reason—then yes. Because then why should we learn it? Or some novel law from that reason, as in the case where they disputed over “And he shall not multiply wives for himself, lest his heart turn away”—where the second prohibition is certainly a reason for the previous restriction on multiplying wives. And nevertheless the sages of Israel disputed about it: Rabbi Yehuda expounds, what is the reason for “he shall not multiply”? Because “lest his heart turn away,” and it teaches that he may multiply wives, provided they do not turn his heart away. Meaning, that has a halakhic implication: not to multiply wives—only women who turn his heart away. So Rabbi Yehuda certainly expounds it as having a halakhic implication. And Rabbi Shimon expounds that prohibition as an independent prohibition. He said: even one woman, if she turns his heart away, he may not marry her, and so on—we’ll get to that in just a moment. So what is he really saying? Both Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda disagree with Maimonides. Why? Because both say that the verse giving the reason comes to say something for Jewish law; it is not just there to tell me stories about the reason for the commandment. It does indicate the reason for the commandment—there is no disagreement about that—but it is not only that; it comes to qualify, to add some halakhic addition. Let’s move to the Talmud. Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia 115b—this is the source Nachmanides is talking about. There is also a parallel topic / passage in Sanhedrin. Not by accident did I choose Bava Metzia; afterward I’ll explain why. So we already saw the Mishnah: “The rabbis taught”—they bring the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda whether or not one expounds the reason of the verse. Now the Talmud asks, because this seems to contradict another source: “But from them you heard the opposite?” You’re telling me that Rabbi Shimon expounds the reason of the verse and Rabbi Yehuda does not expound the reason of the verse. The Talmud asks: “But from them you heard the opposite?” As it was taught: “And he shall not multiply wives for himself.” Rabbi Yehuda says: He may multiply them, provided they do not turn his heart away—that is what Nachmanides quoted. Rabbi Shimon says: Even one woman, if she turns his heart away, he may not marry her. If so, what does “he shall not multiply wives for himself” teach? Even women like Abigail. So here the situation is reversed: Rabbi Shimon does not expound the reason of the verse; he takes the reason and makes it into an additional command, while Rabbi Yehuda does expound the reason of the verse. So that is the opposite of what we usually find. The Talmud answers: actually, Rabbi Yehuda does not generally expound the reason of the verse, but here it is different because the verse explicitly states it: “And he shall not multiply wives for himself, so that his heart not turn away.” What is the reason he should not multiply wives for himself? Because his heart might turn away. What does that mean? Rabbi Yehuda, in principle, does not expound the reason of the verse, but precisely because of that he asks himself: then why did the Torah write the reason here? Apparently here it did want me to expound the reason of the verse. Usually I do not expound the reason of the verse, and that is what the Torah wants too—that I should not expound it. Here the Torah wants me to expound it, so it wrote the reason for me. Rabbi Shimon says: since generally we do expound the reason of the verse—Rabbi Shimon generally does expound the reason of the verse—then let the Merciful One write only “he shall not multiply,” and we would not need “so that his heart not turn away.” Why do we need the reason verse? After all, I know the reason even without it being written; I expound the reason of the verse, I know it, I get directly to the reason even without it being written. “And I would know what the reason is that he should not multiply them: because his heart might turn away.” So why did the Merciful One write “so that his heart not turn away”? To teach that even one woman, if she turns his heart away, he may not marry her. So Rabbi Shimon here makes the opposite move: usually he expounds the reason of the verse, but here, when the reason is written, he says the reason is superfluous, because I would have expounded it even if it were not written. So why is it written? Apparently there are two prohibitions here. One is “he shall not multiply wives for himself,” and the second is “his heart shall not turn away.” “He shall not multiply wives” forbids him to multiply wives even righteous women like Abigail—not because of turning the heart away. And “his heart shall not turn away” means that even one woman, if she turns his heart away, he is forbidden to marry her—two different prohibitions. What comes out according to how Nachmanides reads the Talmud, and according to what seemingly is written in the Talmud? That both Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda see the reason as something that comes to add to the halakhic definition; it is not just there to give a reason for the previous source. There is a difficulty here for Nachmanides—a very good difficulty against Maimonides. He fits no one’s view—not Rabbi Shimon and not Rabbi Yehuda. We know that the Jewish law follows Rabbi Yehuda, that we do not expound the reason of the verse. So it would seem that Maimonides probably does not rule like Rabbi Yehuda. But the question is: then who does he follow? So when we look further, in the Commentary on the Mishnah—I brought half a line from the Commentary on the Mishnah—Maimonides writes this: the Jewish law follows neither Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda. Well, now things are arranged for us. So we read the Talmud correctly, the Mishnah correctly; Maimonides indeed does not fit Rabbi Shimon and does not fit Rabbi Yehuda. But what of it? He is not bothered by that. True, he fits neither Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda, and that is perfectly fine. So who does he follow? For that we need to look at Maimonides in the legal code. In Laws of Kings, chapter 3, halakhah 2: “And he shall not multiply wives for himself”—by oral tradition they learned that he may take up to eighteen wives, whether wives or concubines, all together eighteen. And if he added one more and exceeded that, he receives lashes, and so on. So Maimonides says: “He shall not multiply wives for himself”—more than eighteen, period. It makes no difference whether they are like Abigail or not like Abigail. He agrees with neither Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda, and in fact ruled like neither Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda. The Talmud derives in Sanhedrin from “thus and thus.” So in the end Maimonides takes the command “he shall not multiply wives for himself” literally, does not expound the reason—it does not matter what kind of women they are—he shall not multiply wives for himself, period. Notice: this is even where the reason is explicitly written. Even there Maimonides does not expound it. And Maimonides’ source is of course the Mishnah. When we look at the Mishnah in Sanhedrin, the next source, you will see that there is a difference of three words between the Mishnah in Sanhedrin and what is brought in Bava Metzia. And in fact in Bava Metzia the wording is “as it was taught.” If you notice—and people have already pointed this out—why does it say “as it was taught” and not “as we learned in the Mishnah”? What is brought there is a Mishnah, the Mishnah in Sanhedrin, but there it says “as it was taught,” at least in the text we have before us. Here in the Mishnah—I am now reading the text from the Mishnah in Sanhedrin—“He shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen,” period. Rabbi Yehuda says: He may multiply them, provided they do not turn his heart away. Rabbi Shimon says: Even one woman who turns his heart away, he may not marry her. If so, why was it said, “He shall not multiply wives for himself”? Even women like Abigail. Everything is the same except for “beyond eighteen” at the beginning. That does not appear in the baraita quoted in Bava Metzia. And if you look carefully, it is quite clear that Maimonides read the Mishnah in Sanhedrin as though it contains three Tannaitic opinions, not two. There is the first anonymous opinion: “He shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen,” period—that is the opinion of the first Tanna. Then Rabbi Yehuda says: He may multiply them, provided they do not turn his heart away. Then there is Rabbi Shimon, who expounds the reason of the verse and adds another command. So there are three Tannaitic opinions here, and Maimonides rules like the first Tanna, that’s all. Look at the wording in Bava Metzia of the baraita—it is really much harder there. There it looks like some kind of heading that splits into the two opinions of Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon. But in the Mishnah you can definitely read it this way as well. And that is apparently how Maimonides read it. But what does that really mean? That the dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides is really a dispute among Tannaim. Nachmanides reads the Mishnah as though it has two Tannaim in it, and he rules like Rabbi Yehuda, because we know that the Jewish law is that we do not expound the reason of the verse. Maimonides says: there are three Tannaim here; there is also a first Tanna. And not only is there also a first Tanna, but he also rules like him in practice. What does the first Tanna hold? Notice: Rabbi Yehuda does not expound the reason of the verse, but if the reason is written, then he does expound it. What does that look like? Like someone who does not expound the reason of the verse because he is worried about error, but if the Torah writes the reason, then what is the problem? There is no speculation, it is certain, no problem. So here one can expound the reason of the verse. So Rabbi Yehuda—it is certainly plausible to interpret him, though it is not absolutely necessary, but it is plausible—to interpret him in the direction I mentioned earlier, the most popular direction: that we do not expound the reason of the verse because of the concern for error, and if the reason is written in the Torah there is no concern for error, so we do expound it. That is how Nachmanides learned it, and therefore Nachmanides rules like Rabbi Yehuda, and therefore Nachmanides also writes that we do not expound the reason of the verse because of concern for error. But Maimonides rules like the first Tanna. And the first Tanna does not expound the reason of the verse even where the reason is written. Why? How can that be understood? The only way I manage to explain it is what I said at the beginning, when I said I was putting the later point first. Maimonides—the first Tanna quoted in Maimonides, whom he rules like—does not expound the reason of the verse, and as stated, does not expound the reason of the verse like Rabbi Yehuda, but not because of concern for error; rather because there is nothing there to expound. The reason will always come out the same as what comes out of the verse. And if it does not come out the same, then correct the reason—you did not understand the reason properly. So consequently, even if the reason is written explicitly in the verse, you have no concern for error, that is true—but so what? I still do not expound the reason of the verse. If the verse itself says “he shall not multiply wives for himself,” no matter what kind, then that is the halakhic definition. What is written afterward about the reasons—from chapter 5 to 7 we will deal with that too—that is not our concern. We do not expound that because it changes nothing. Now notice carefully: does the first Tanna disagree that the reason for the verse is “so that they not turn his heart away,” the reason for the command? Apparently not. The Torah says so, and I think that is the reason—Maimonides himself writes that explicitly. Maimonides says the Torah said this is the reason. Fine—so if that is the reason, how can it be the opposite of the definition? We said that is why we do not expound the reason of the verse, because the reason must always fit the halakhic definition. When the reason is written explicitly in the Torah, we can already check—so what is going on here? Here it seemingly does not fit. That is the conflict of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda. The first Tanna apparently says: no, you are mistaken, the reason does fit. If I multiply for myself twenty-eight wives like Abigail, all of them completely righteous, pious women, workers who say Psalms from morning to night—it still turns my heart away. Because a king who is constantly occupied with women, then his heart turns away—not because the women… But in the end it does fit, and therefore we do not expound it. It fits because even more than eighteen proper wives is also a turning of the heart or a removal of the heart. And therefore it is forbidden to multiply wives. And what would the law be according to Rabbi Shimon as well? What?
[Speaker C] Rabbi Shimon expounds the reason of the verse—what do you mean?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rabbi Shimon says that even one such woman will turn his heart away. According to Rabbi Shimon it is permitted to take—sorry, it is forbidden to multiply, unlike Rabbi Yehuda. Wicked women, one may not take even one. And according to the first Tanna, it is permitted. Yes. All right, I really am getting close to the end, and the whole second part is still basically ahead of us, so I’ll say this telegraphically. What this really means is that the move from the verses to the reasons behind them is a move that sometimes we can miss. There really can be error. Those who worry about error are right. But the conclusion is not not to expound the reason of the verse. The conclusion is not that because of that we do not expound the reason of the verse, but rather that because of that we need to correct the reason. That is the conclusion. In other words, the reason has to fit the definition. And so what we learned here is this: you thought that “so that his heart not turn away” means that it is forbidden to take wicked women. The answer is no—that is not correct, so correct the reason. It is forbidden to take many women because many women are what turns his heart away. Therefore, therefore it is forbidden to take the women. So we learned better what the reason is; we did not change the halakhic definition. Now the example I wanted to bring for this—and I’ll say it without reading, just in a few sentences. The Binyan Tzion discusses Yom Kippur. He discusses the question: what happens if someone eats on Yom Kippur—a sick person, eats on Yom Kippur—does he need to continue fasting, or is it basically already lost for him? The fast has been broken and it can no longer be completed. Already in the question he ties it to the verse, “from evening to evening you shall keep your Sabbath.” And in fact many later authorities who discuss this matter define it that way. Since the Torah says, “from evening to evening you shall keep your Sabbath,” the assumption is that we are dealing here with some kind of command regarding the entire span of Yom Kippur. True, it will apply to night and day, but after that derivation—to the whole span. And once it is the whole span, if you ate, then it is lost. Even if you keep fasting, it will not help. He discusses whether it is like this or otherwise. It seems his inclination is to understand it this way, because that is what the verse says, although there are sources—and he brings them from the medieval authorities (Rishonim), even from the medieval authorities (Rishonim), Tosafot and Rashba—that did not learn this way, and therefore in practice he is not lenient. But it seems his inclination is in that direction. There are some more recent later authorities (Acharonim), the more analytical ones, who when they present this question present it logically. And they ask: is Yom Kippur an obligation at every single moment? Yom Kippur is made up of moments. Or is Yom Kippur a unit—or the obligation on Yom Kippur, the obligation to fast on Yom Kippur, is it one unitary obligation, with the whole day being one unit? All right? In that case, “from evening to evening you shall keep your Sabbath” probably teaches us that it is one unit. It is not some ordinary prohibition of eating, where every moment that I eat I have violated a prohibition; rather I am obligated in affliction. And of course, almost obviously, this is also connected to the distinction between prohibitions of eating and an obligation to fast. There it is by the amount of a large date, and there by an olive’s bulk. Those are two different foundations. Affliction is supposed to be something that lasts over time. One moment in which I did not eat—that is not affliction; that is non-eating. But it is not affliction. If we are talking about affliction, that means you need some defined stretch of time to maintain it. And if they tell you “from evening to evening,” that means the twenty-four hours.
[Speaker B] If you want to eat and you do not eat, that is affliction. Fine. “And you shall afflict your souls.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I have a few more answers to that too, but I don’t have time to get into it now. So I’ll just say telegraphically how this connects to what came before. So basically this is the halakhic definition: when we read the verse, we learn that this verse teaches us that Yom Kippur is one unit and not a collection of moments. If we try to think about what stands behind this—the reason of the verse—then it is a bit connected to what I said earlier. You can call it a definition, you can call it a reason; the boundary of course is not clear. What is the point? The question is whether the obligation is to fast or whether the obligation is not to eat. If the obligation is to fast, then it is over a duration of time. If the obligation is not to eat, then like any prohibition of eating, whatever I ate, I violated a prohibition. Let’s look at one implication, for example. A minor who comes of age in the middle of Yom Kippur. Right? You could also say an adult who became a minor. A minor, or an incompetent person who recovered. But a minor who came of age, or an incompetent person who recovered—never mind, incompetence is actually a different level, I think; that needs checking. A minor who comes of age in the middle of Yom Kippur. Now, formally speaking, if I say that if Yom Kippur is made up of parts, every single moment is a separate obligation, then once he comes of age he is obligated in those moments in which he is obligated—he has to fast. If it is one unit, then it is lost for him. The whole unit he will no longer fast, so it is lost for him. So formally what comes out? That this minor—if it is moments, then he has to continue fasting. If it is one unit, then he is exempt. Now let’s try to get into the reason of the verse. The reason of the verse says that basically we need to be afflicted, to feel affliction over time, and therefore Yom Kippur is one unit. That same minor, before he came of age, we assume his parents educated him toward the commandments. And since they educated him toward the commandments, he fasted before that, right? So if he fasted before that, then according to the reason for this law—not according to its formal definition—I would say that he should continue fasting even if Yom Kippur is supposedly one unit. Why? Because the obligation is an obligation to experience affliction. It does not help—you are not helped by the fact that you did not eat for a few moments. You need to be afflicted over the span of a full day, day-long. True, at the end of the day you were not commanded and acting under command in the first half of the day, but as for the fast—if you ask me whether in the second half of the day I am afflicted or I am only not eating, the answer is that I am also afflicted. Why?
[Speaker B] It depends on the Talmud in Ta’anit. If a person simply did not eat because he had no food and then decided to count it as a fast, it says that is not a fast.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, fine, that is not connected, because here there is a command. I’ll comment on that too in half a second anyway. Look, in practice—I simply can’t get into all the possibilities—so I just want to summarize this in a few sentences. One could say that Yom Kippur is one unit. The reason behind that is probably the obligation to fast. On the other hand, the obligation to fast is not necessarily the correct interpretation, because the obligation to fast can also find halakhic expression in a different way. For example, it could be that the obligation applies to every single moment, except that what I need to do at every moment is to be afflicted, not not to eat. That is, for example, this possibility. If so, then that same minor who fasted as part of his training for half a day—during the second half of the day he will be afflicted, because at the end of the day he did not eat. If the halakhic definition is that he has to fast a whole day—not that this is the factual definition of what counts as affliction, but that it is the halakhic definition—that is something else. Now which of the two interpretations is correct? What is written is “from evening to evening you shall keep your Sabbath.” Which of these two interpretations is correct? One can go to the reason of the verse and get a different result from the one we get from the linguistic definition. “From evening to evening” is one unit and not separate moments. But when I then look behind it and ask myself what reasoning stands behind that—no, the reasoning behind it is that a person has to fast and not merely not eat. Ah, but if that is the reasoning, then it does not fit the definition, because this minor should continue fasting—not like what comes out from the formal definition, that if it is one unit then this minor has already lost it. So what are we saying now? Someone who expounds the reason of the verse—what will he say? Fine, then somehow we need to change the reason of the verse; we need to say it is not one unit, it is something else. Someone who does not expound the reason of the verse, like Maimonides—what will he say? The reason you found is simply not the right reason. That is not the right definition. But it will not have a halakhic implication. Of course here the problem is harder, because here the Torah does not tell us what the correct halakhic result is. Maimonides was talking about situations where the Torah writes the correct halakhic result. “He shall not multiply wives for himself”—more than eighteen—that is written. Here it is not written. There are two possible interpretations. This is not one of those places where the Torah itself writes the reason. And therefore here perhaps yes—and now I’m circling back in the opposite direction—perhaps here there is room to go back and revise the halakhic definition and learn the verse “from evening to evening you shall keep your Sabbath” differently, and arrive at what Justin actually suggested earlier.