Intention in the Commandments – Lesson 4
This transcript was produced automatically by means of artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
🔗 Link to the original lecture
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Table of Contents
- Rava’s approach: commandments do not require intent
- The initial assumption about “a remembrance of a blast” in the spirit of the Bach
- Intent as part of the definition of a commandment: Shema, Maimonides, Rabbi Chaim
- Unintentional action versus mere preoccupation, and the application to the shofar and matzah
- Rashi’s interpretation: since he derived benefit, preoccupation, and the link to a sin-offering in forbidden fats and sexual prohibitions
- Clarifying the relationship between “since he derived benefit,” intent, and preoccupation
- The Ritva: all positive commandments follow one path, and someone merely preoccupied certainly has not fulfilled his obligation
- Rabbeinu Chananel: the initial assumption about intention of the heart in shofar blasts without invoking “since he derived benefit”
- A broader conceptual expansion: commandment as obedience, “do not deviate,” and the Netivot
- The continuation of the passage: reading for proofreading, the sound of a donkey, and the intent of the listener and the one sounding
- Concluding notes on shofar blowing as hearing, and on the extensions of “one who hears is like one who answers”
Summary
General Overview
The text sets Rava’s view that “commandments do not require intent” against the passage of “the Persians forced him” and someone blowing the shofar just for music, and examines why the Talmud needed an initial assumption to distinguish between them because of the verse “a remembrance of a blast.” It builds a possibility in the style of the Bach that the verse could teach a special requirement of intent in shofar blowing, or define the case as one of mere preoccupation, and in the end sharpens the conclusion that someone blowing for music is not “preoccupied” in that technical sense, but only lacks intent, and therefore does fulfill the obligation according to Rava. The discussion then brings the approaches of Rashi and the Ritva, who introduce the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” with regard to eating matzah, and the relationship between preoccupation, lack of intent, and the need for the intent of both listener and blower. It also examines Rabbeinu Chananel’s interpretation, which does not make the passage depend on “since he derived benefit.” From the discussion emerge broader implications for defining a commandment as obedience, for the dispute over whether intent is an indispensable condition or only an ideal one, and for the status of “one who hears is like one who answers.”
Rava’s approach: commandments do not require intent
Rava learns from the fact that “the Persians forced him,” and according to the conclusion of the Talmud he nevertheless fulfilled his obligation, that commandments do not require intent. From this he infers that someone who “blows the shofar for music” also fulfills his obligation. The Talmud asks, “Isn’t that obvious?” because apparently it is the same application of the same principle, and answers that there was an initial assumption to distinguish between matzah and shofar. The Talmud raises a different possibility regarding shofar because of the phrase “a remembrance of a blast,” and teaches with “this comes to teach us” that even there he fulfills the obligation.
The initial assumption about “a remembrance of a blast” in the spirit of the Bach
The text suggests a reading according to which “a remembrance of a blast” could have taught a further requirement of intent in shofar blowing beyond the intent merely to fulfill one’s obligation, so that someone blowing for music would lack that intent and therefore would not fulfill the obligation, even if commandments in general do not require intent. On this reading, “this comes to teach us” becomes a novelty in the laws of shofar blowing: in the end, no special intent derived from “a remembrance of a blast” is required. The difficulty is that if so, why does the Bach remain with this principle, even in the conclusion, regarding the other three commandments he mentions—tzitzit, tefillin, and sukkah? The text suggests that the principle itself remains: intent can be part of the definition of the commandment, except that with shofar this particular verse is not interpreted that way.
Intent as part of the definition of a commandment: Shema, Maimonides, Rabbi Chaim
The text sharpens the point that there are commandments in which intent is part of the very definition of the commandment itself—for example Shema, where the commandment is to “accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven” through the act of reciting Shema. Therefore, without that intent, the commandment was not performed at all. Maimonides, at the beginning of the ninth root, is cited as distinguishing different kinds of commandments, particularly commandments of speech, in which intent is essential to fulfillment. Rabbi Chaim is also cited regarding intent in prayer, to show that the principle—that intent can be part of the very command-act—is not rejected by this Talmudic discussion.
Unintentional action versus mere preoccupation, and the application to the shofar and matzah
The text distinguishes between “without intent” and “mere preoccupation,” and parallels the distinction to the laws of the Sabbath, such as dragging a bench and creating a furrow, which counts as unintentional but not as mere preoccupation. It suggests an initial assumption according to which, because of “a remembrance of a blast,” blowing for music could have been classified as mere preoccupation, and mere preoccupation does not fulfill the obligation even according to Rava. “This comes to teach us” means that it is only a commandment performed without intent. It also offers an understanding that defines mere preoccupation here as a case where one performed the physical act of blowing but without the accompanying intent that is considered an essential component, so that it appears “like preoccupation,” even if the term is not perfectly precise.
Rashi’s interpretation: since he derived benefit, preoccupation, and the link to a sin-offering in forbidden fats and sexual prohibitions
Rashi interprets “the Persians forced him to eat matzah” as a case discussed under the category of mere preoccupation, but matzah is different because “he ate and derived benefit from his eating.” The text quotes Rashi’s language linking this to the rule that “one who is merely preoccupied with forbidden fats or forbidden sexual relations is still liable, since he derived benefit.” According to this framework, the initial assumption is that with matzah, even someone merely preoccupied fulfills the obligation because of the benefit, whereas with shofar he is “merely preoccupied in the ordinary sense,” and therefore does not fulfill it. “This comes to teach us” then means that he does fulfill it because “commandments do not require intent.” The text lingers over a basic difficulty in reading Rashi, since someone forced to eat matzah is aware of what he is doing, and suggests that the verse “a remembrance of a blast” serves to distance shofar from the model of commandment-as-benefit, so that the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” is not relevant there.
Clarifying the relationship between “since he derived benefit,” intent, and preoccupation
The text proposes that the explanation of “since he derived benefit” works in the realm of prohibitions because the prohibition itself is a prohibition of deriving benefit, and therefore the benefit ties the act to the person even in a case of mere preoccupation. From there it builds a proposal for explaining Rashi: in commandments too, if there were room to view fulfillment of the commandment as bound up with benefit, then benefit could compensate for mere preoccupation. But with shofar, “a remembrance of a blast” points to content that is not about benefit, and so the reasoning would not help. The text formulates a sharp practical implication: according to Rashi, it may be that according to the view that commandments do require intent, if the Persians forced him to eat matzah he nevertheless fulfilled his obligation because “he derived benefit,” whereas according to Rava there is no need to reach that point, because commandments do not require intent.
The Ritva: all positive commandments follow one path, and someone merely preoccupied certainly has not fulfilled his obligation
The Ritva is quoted as ruling that “the correct explanation is Rashi’s,” and as establishing the initial assumption with respect to matzah on the basis that “his throat derived benefit,” just as in the case of forbidden fats and sexual prohibitions. The Ritva states that “all positive commandments follow one path,” meaning that if one commandment does not require intent, there is no basis to distinguish between different commandments. He adds explicitly: “But in a case of mere preoccupation, he certainly has not fulfilled his obligation.” The Ritva explains that fulfilling the shofar commandment depends on intending the very act of blowing, and not hearing it as merely “the sound of a donkey,” and in this way he defines the boundary at which one is already in the category of mere preoccupation and has not fulfilled the obligation.
Rabbeinu Chananel: the initial assumption about intention of the heart in shofar blasts without invoking “since he derived benefit”
Rabbeinu Chananel is presented as explaining the passage without bringing in “since he derived benefit” and without discussing mere preoccupation at this stage. Rather, he understands the distinction as an initial assumption that “with regard to shofar blasts, intention of the heart is required” because of “a remembrance of a blast,” and “this comes to teach us” that “commandments do not require intent.” The text suggests a nuance: Rabbeinu Chananel may understand that “a remembrance of a blast” could have taught the need for the ordinary intent to fulfill one’s obligation specifically in shofar, and not some additional special intent. Rabbeinu Chananel also adds the example of “Praise Him with the blast of the shofar” in order to illustrate that someone blowing for music is still defined as performing the act of blowing and not as someone merely preoccupied.
A broader conceptual expansion: commandment as obedience, “do not deviate,” and the Netivot
The text develops an approach according to which the one who says commandments require intent sees the essence of the commandment as “to obey the Holy One, blessed be He,” and the individual acts are only practical forms by which that obedience is expressed. Therefore, without intent it is similar to “one who reads merely for proofreading.” An analogy is brought from Maimonides’ approach to “do not deviate,” and from the Netivot in section 234 regarding inadvertent rabbinic prohibitions, where there is no transgression at all because the violation is a conscious rebellion against the command. The Ran in Kiddushin and Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman on doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel are also cited as examples of a kind of prohibition that is consciousness-based, to illustrate a model in which the forbidden or obligatory element is cognitive rather than object-based.
The continuation of the passage: reading for proofreading, the sound of a donkey, and the intent of listener and blower
The text points out that even according to Rava, mere preoccupation does not fulfill the obligation, and the proof is the continuation of the Talmudic passage about “if he was reading in the Torah and the time for reciting arrived,” which Rava explains as a case of “reading for proofreading,” where he does not fulfill the obligation. Later a baraita is cited: “If the listener had intent but the one sounding did not have intent… he has not fulfilled his obligation until both the listener and the one sounding have intent.” The Talmud explains one side with “he holds that it is merely the sound of a donkey,” and the other side with “perhaps he was merely making snorting sounds.” The text wonders why the Talmud does not explain more simply that the problem is the lack of intent to discharge and to be discharged under the principle of “one who hears is like one who answers,” and suggests that the Talmud conceptually links the question of “whether commandments require intent” with the need for the intent of listener and blower, either because of a similar line of reasoning or because the intent involved in “one who hears is like one who answers” is needed only in order to transfer intent when intent is indispensable.
Concluding notes on shofar blowing as hearing, and on the extensions of “one who hears is like one who answers”
The text notes that if the shofar commandment is primarily “to hear,” then perhaps the whole issue of “one who hears is like one who answers” becomes less central, because the listener himself performed the act of hearing. Still, there may remain a requirement to hear a blast that was produced for the sake of the commandment. The text mentions a dispute among later authorities over whether in “one who hears is like one who answers,” related laws such as standing or reciting kiddush over wine are also transferred, and uses this to sharpen the question whether the intent of the one discharging and the one being discharged is merely a transfer of an ancillary component or an essential condition for fulfillment. The text stops before continuing to the passage about adding to commandments and leaves the continuation for further analysis later in the lecture.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the previous lecture we started dealing with the Talmudic passage itself. We focused on Rava’s position, who says that commandments do not require intent, right? And “the Persians forced him”—yes, and according to the conclusion of the Talmud, it says that he fulfilled his obligation. And from here Rava learns that someone who blows the shofar for music also fulfills his obligation, and the Talmud explains that this basically assumes that commandments do not require intent. The Talmud asks: isn’t that obvious? If someone who was forced by the Persians to eat matzah fulfilled his obligation, then someone who blows for music also fulfills his obligation—apparently it’s the same thing. I said that this itself is the novelty, that this is considered obvious. In any case, the Talmud asks: after all, it’s the same thing. What exactly is Rava adding? The Talmud says: what might you have thought? There, the Merciful One said, “eat matzah,” and he did eat. But here it is written, “a remembrance of a blast,” and this person is merely preoccupied. Therefore this comes to teach us otherwise. There was an initial assumption to distinguish between “the Persians forced him to eat matzah” and “someone who blows for music.” Why? Because with shofar blowing the verse says “a remembrance of a blast.” So what? What difference does it make that it says “a remembrance of a blast”? And I said that on the simple reading, we saw the Bach in the first lecture—in the simple reading this looks a bit like the Bach’s approach. It doesn’t fit the Bach so well in the final conclusion, but it does look like his approach: if it says “a remembrance of a blast” regarding shofar blowing, then the initial assumption was that with shofar blowing one needs a special kind of intent beyond the intent to fulfill one’s obligation. And therefore, even though if the Persians forced him to eat matzah he fulfilled his obligation, because you don’t need intent to fulfill the obligation, with shofar there is an additional requirement beyond intent to fulfill the obligation—also “a remembrance of a blast.” And since he blew for music, he did not intend “a remembrance of a blast.” So from the standpoint of whether commandments require intent, there’s no problem here, because according to Rava commandments don’t require intent. But there is still this additional requirement of “a remembrance of a blast,” which was not fulfilled, and therefore I would have thought that he did not fulfill his obligation. Therefore this comes to teach us that he did. What does that mean? What exactly is the “this comes to teach us,” according to this reading? The novelty is a novelty in the laws of shofar blowing: that one does not need a special intent in shofar blowing. The novelty is not that commandments do not require intent. Rather, I might have thought that even though commandments do not require intent, with shofar he still would not fulfill his obligation because there is a special requirement. Therefore this comes to teach us that with shofar there is no special intent. A little strange. That is, simply speaking, it sounds like Rava is coming to innovate that commandments do not require intent—that’s his point, and therefore shofar too. And from here it sounds like there is simply a novelty in the laws of shofar blowing. That’s all. It’s not so terrible, because clearly at the foundation lies the assumption that commandments do not require intent. Of course that is learned from here. It’s just that applying that also to shofar would have been obvious, were it not for the initial assumption that maybe a special intent is needed there. Therefore Rava comes to say: no, there is no special intent there, and so the general innovation—that commandments do not require intent—applies there as well. Okay? That’s not so bad. This is along the lines of the Bach. Yes, it’s in the Bach’s direction. In any case, even according to the Bach, in the conclusion the Talmud says “this comes to teach us” that no, that’s not the case. In other words, it seems that with shofar, the fact that it says “a remembrance of a blast” does not really mean that an additional intent is required. So that puts a question mark over why, in the other three commandments the Bach mentioned—tzitzit, tefillin, and sukkah—does he still maintain that even in the final conclusion? So I said that apparently, at the principled level, the Bach says that when the Torah writes this, there are cases in which certain commandments do require an additional intent. And think, for example, about reciting Shema. With Shema, to accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven—the intent to accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven in Shema is not because of the rule that commandments require intent. That is the commandment itself: to accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven. We do that through reciting Shema. But the commandment is not to say Shema; the commandment is to accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven in the form of reciting Shema. So there it’s obvious that if you did not intend to accept the yoke of the kingdom of Heaven, you did not fulfill your obligation. Not because commandments require intent, but because you did not perform the commandment at all. In other words, there are commandments where the intent is part of the definition of the commandment itself. We talked about this in the first lecture: that the intent is part of the definition of the commandment itself. And this principle apparently remains true even according to the conclusion of the Talmud, according to the Bach—but that’s as a matter of Jewish law. It’s just that his claim is that specifically with shofar blowing this is not the case. The fact that it says “a remembrance of a blast” regarding shofar is not of that kind. And I said that all kinds of laws are learned from this; the Jerusalem Talmud says it regarding Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath and so on. So the verse says—specifically this verse we do not interpret that way. But that doesn’t mean that in principle there cannot be commandments in which there is a requirement for additional intent. Obviously there can be. There are commandments where the whole point is the intent. Maimonides writes at the beginning of the ninth root that there are four types of commandments: in thought, in speech, in action, and in character traits, I think, something like that. So there are commandments that are commandments of speech. Commandments of speech—we talked about this too in the first lecture—are commandments where the intent is an essential part of fulfilling the commandment. I brought Rabbi Chaim regarding intent in prayer. So clearly the principle itself is not rejected here in the Talmud. There are commandments where the intent is part of the definition of the commandment-act itself. What is apparently rejected, according to the Bach at least, is that shofar blowing is not such a case. The fact that “a remembrance of a blast” is written regarding shofar blowing does not mean that. So why—
[Speaker C] So what is Rava teaching us there? That even though it’s mere preoccupation, it’s okay?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not mere preoccupation. Right. Somehow, because it says “a remembrance of a blast,” I might have thought that it counts as mere preoccupation. “This comes to teach us” that it is not mere preoccupation. In other words, in the case where the Persians forced him to eat matzah, that is not mere preoccupation. That is a commandment without intent. Therefore there it depends on the question whether commandments require intent or not. The initial assumption was that with shofar blowing it’s not just that you lack intent—if that were all, Rava says, it wouldn’t bother me—but rather that it is mere preoccupation. Therefore I would have thought not, and “this comes to teach us” that it is not mere preoccupation. Now why does the fact that it says “a remembrance of a blast” imply mere preoccupation? Mere preoccupation apparently means someone who isn’t really doing it—you perform the act of the commandment, but you’re not doing the commandment. Like someone later in the passage who thinks it’s the sound of a donkey. Okay. But that really is a good point. We’ll come back to that point.
[Speaker C] Why does “this comes to teach us” mean that it’s not mere preoccupation?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because “a remembrance of a blast” is not being required. If “a remembrance of a blast” were required, then shofar blowing—blowing for music, right?
[Speaker C] Yes. Blowing for music means—it’s because there’s no intent.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that’s the difference between “without intent” and “mere preoccupation.” I brought this up in the first lecture. In other words, not every case of mere preoccupation is a case of lack of intent—or the reverse, not every lack of intent is mere preoccupation.
[Speaker C] Here it’s supposedly a higher level. Right.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I said this also in the laws of the Sabbath. We know that someone who drags a bench and creates a furrow—that is not mere preoccupation; that is unintentional action. Therefore, for example, according to Rabbi Yehuda he is liable. Even though Rabbi Yehuda agrees that in a case of mere preoccupation one is exempt—or it is even permitted. Clearly, in the realm of prohibitions, “without intent” and “mere preoccupation” are two different levels. By the way, the difference between them is not always clear. It’s not such a simple question exactly where the line is drawn. But clearly there are two such levels. Okay? In our case, then, the initial assumption was that with regard to shofar blowing it’s not just that you don’t have intent, but that you are really a case of mere preoccupation. So even according to Rava that would not help, even though commandments do not require intent. But mere preoccupation does not fulfill the obligation. “This comes to teach us” that no, it is not mere preoccupation; it is just a commandment without intent. The question is why the words “a remembrance of a blast” teach you that such a thing is mere preoccupation—and then “this comes to teach us” that it’s not. But what was the initial assumption? So again, it is indeed a bit forced, and we have to say that if it says “a remembrance of a blast,” then as I said in the Bach’s direction, it means that the intent of “a remembrance of a blast” is part of the act of the commandment. And if you blew the shofar without intending that, then it’s like mere preoccupation. In other words, you didn’t really do the commandment. But the term “mere preoccupation” here is not really precise. Because mere preoccupation is someone who does perform the act of the commandment, but does it absentmindedly. Here, if that element really is missing, then you simply didn’t do the act of the commandment at all. So either it’s just a common turn of phrase—it’s like mere preoccupation—but what it really means is that you didn’t perform the act of the commandment. Or perhaps there really is some kind of level here—actually that’s an interesting definition, now that I think about it—that if “the intent of a remembrance of a blast” is required, then maybe you could say this: you could say that the commandment is simply a remembrance of a blast. We do that by means of blowing the shofar, but the commandment is the remembrance of a blast. Right? But maybe not. Maybe the commandment is the blowing. It’s just that this blowing has to be accompanied by the intent of a remembrance of a blast. Not without blowing. If you remembered the blast in some other way, that wouldn’t help. In other words, you have to blow. Right? So the commandment is still shofar blowing. And if so, then if you blew for music, then… then you did the act of the commandment. It’s just that since it must be accompanied by the intent of a remembrance of a blast, and that intent was not there, then it’s like someone who does it absentmindedly. You did the act of the commandment, just absentmindedly. So that’s already really mere preoccupation. Okay? But then you really have to say that “remembrance of a blast” is not the definition of the commandment—that the commandment is remembrance of a blast—but rather that the definition of the commandment is the action, the blowing. “Remembrance of a blast” is an intent that has to accompany it; it has to be accompanied by the context of a remembrance of a blast. If you do it in that context, then otherwise it is just ordinary mere preoccupation. It’s like when you walk past a bush and pluck off a branch—you did pluck the branch, but you’re not engaged in branch-plucking; you’re just walking. Okay? So that is much more similar to mere preoccupation if you understand it that way. In any case, all of this is only the initial assumption. The conclusion is that this is just ordinary lack of intent; it is not mere preoccupation. Let’s use here the terminology from prohibitions: “without intent” means a commandment without intent. Right? That’s what I mean. Every commandment needs—blowing is a method—that’s the dispute, whether commandments require intent. If commandments require intent, then every commandment needs intent. If commandments do not require intent, then not. Now Rava claims that commandments do not require intent, and therefore if the Persians forced him to eat matzah, he fulfilled his obligation, even though there was no intent. Someone who disagrees with him—we’ll soon see whether there is someone who disagrees—will say no, he did not fulfill his obligation because intent is required. Right? But even Rava agrees that even if commandments do not require intent, mere preoccupation is not considered performance of a commandment. And that is the point. Now the question is whether someone who blows for music counts as mere preoccupation, in which case even according to Rava he did not fulfill his obligation—that was the initial assumption. Rava says no: even if I hold that commandments do not require intent, someone who blows for music has fulfilled his obligation. Why? Because someone who blows for music is not mere preoccupation; he is only lacking intent. About the shift in understanding “a remembrance of a blast.” And now at the end of the previous lines I brought that Rashi did not explain it this way—and this is the Bach’s direction, and so too the Ritva and the Ran. Most of the medieval authorities I saw here explain it not in the Bach’s direction. Again, the Bach doesn’t talk about this explicitly, but I say “in the Bach’s direction”—that’s how I’m using the phrase. They explain here differently. They say as follows. Rashi says: what might you have thought? There, where the Merciful One said to eat matzah, he ate and derived benefit from his eating, therefore he is not considered one merely preoccupied; for with regard to liability for a sin-offering we say: one who is merely preoccupied with forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations is liable, since he derived benefit. Rashi is basically saying: “the Persians forced him to eat matzah”—how have we understood this until now? Until now we understood that according to the Bach’s direction, what’s the problem? The problem is that he had no intent, and that this is lack of intent, right? And that is precisely the difference: in shofar blowing there was an initial assumption that it’s not only lack of intent but actual mere preoccupation, really a full-fledged case of it, whereas there it’s just lack of intent, not mere preoccupation. Right? That’s the Bach’s move. According to Rashi, no—they go down one level. According to Rashi, “the Persians forced him to eat matzah” is a case of mere preoccupation. It’s not just lack of intent; it’s mere preoccupation. That’s a bit puzzling. Why is it mere preoccupation? I know that I’m eating matzah, I’m fully aware of it, I’m just doing it because they forced me. To such an extent that it’s not even clear why he’s considered lacking intent—that’s what I noted in the previous lecture. He does have intent. He’s just doing it as though preoccupied in the eating; he’s only doing it because they’re forcing him. He knows he is eating matzah, maybe he even intends it, but he certainly is not merely preoccupied. He is eating matzah and he knows he is eating matzah. But Rashi says that this is called mere preoccupation, right? And therefore he says that in the case of eating matzah, in principle, if the Persians forced him to eat matzah, in principle he should not have fulfilled his obligation because it’s mere preoccupation. “This comes to teach us”—that is, but in the conclusion that is not correct, because he does fulfill his obligation, since this is a commandment that involves benefit, and in commandments that involve benefit, “since he derived benefit” compensates for the fact that he is merely preoccupied—exactly as with prohibitions, where we know that one who is merely preoccupied with forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations is liable because he derived benefit, even though he is merely preoccupied. So the benefit is compensation, or a substitute, for the fact that you are merely preoccupied. And so it is with commandments as well. This is Rashi’s novelty. And because of that novelty, what does he say? At the stage of the initial assumption, then, we thought that in fact he is merely preoccupied and therefore—sorry—at the stage of the initial assumption we knew that in matzah, despite his being merely preoccupied, he fulfills his obligation. The initial assumption was not that it is mere preoccupation—it is mere preoccupation, period. But at the stage of the initial assumption we thought that mere preoccupation does not fulfill the obligation. “This comes to teach us” that even mere preoccupation fulfills the obligation in matzah because “he derived benefit,” whereas in shofar, mere preoccupation does not fulfill the obligation because it is not a commandment of benefit. Okay? Again the question comes up: how do we learn that from “a remembrance of a blast”? Why “a remembrance of a blast”? Again, it’s not so clear. On the contrary, according to this derivation maybe even the opposite—it’s not a practical commandment; it’s more of a mental commandment, because it is a remembrance of a blast. I don’t know. But the question is not what the commandment is; the question is whether it contains benefit. Now whether there is or is not benefit is a factual question; you don’t need to learn it from a verse. If I’m not eating something, this isn’t forbidden fats and it isn’t forbidden relations and it isn’t anything of the kind—why should there be benefit in it? This whole story is very strange from the standpoint of… Maybe, it could be—and I also think this way, there isn’t much other way out that I can see—the claim is that there may be some kind of benefit in hearing the shofar. Now if the commandment were to enjoy the shofar, I don’t know, to hear music, then indeed the benefit would compensate for your being merely preoccupied, by the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” But since it says “a remembrance of a blast,” that means that there is some kind of commandment here that is not to enjoy the music of the shofar. Rather, you are supposed to use it to remember a blast, I don’t know, something like that. In commandments of that type, the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” does not help. Again, in a prohibition—this is a subtle point—why does “since he derived benefit” help there? What is the prohibition in forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations? It’s not that there is a prohibition of forbidden fats and forbidden relations and in parallel he also enjoyed them. The prohibition is the enjoyment. It is forbidden to derive benefit from the forbidden fats and the forbidden sexual relations. That is what is forbidden. Now if you derived benefit, then you cannot say that because you were merely preoccupied, you did not transgress. You benefited. But this can all be said not merely about commandments that involve benefit—that is the novelty. The claim is that the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” was not stated about commandments that contain benefit, but about commandments where the commandment is the benefit. In other words, if the prohibition in intercourse were not the enjoyment of intercourse but the act of intercourse, then the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” would not exempt the commandment—would not render the merely preoccupied person liable. When the definition of the commandment or the transgression is the prohibition on deriving benefit—that is the essence of the prohibition. You derived benefit, so if you benefited you cannot say that you were merely preoccupied. Okay? Now I’m suggesting this in order to explain Rashi. Why is this not a simple explanation? What? Yes, I said this jokingly in the previous lecture—the benefit depends on human opinion. The benefit of eating matzah, “since he derived benefit”—that is probably bodily benefit; it nourishes the body. Okay? So they did not command enjoyment. There are commandments that are commandments of benefit. They did not command enjoying—but the commandment is a commandment of benefit. Not that one enjoys the commandment; that isn’t the enjoyment. Why a commandment? The commandment is to enjoy. Not that you need to enjoy and you’re doing it for the sake of the commandment. But what is the definition of the commandment? The commandment is to enjoy this kind of enjoyment or that kind of enjoyment. That was at least the initial assumption here. Okay? Then Rashi says that with shofar—now I understand what the verse “a remembrance of a blast” means. The verse “a remembrance of a blast” means that the shofar commandment is not like the prohibitions of forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations. There is no commandment to enjoy the sound of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. The commandment is to remember a blast. And if the commandment is to remember a blast, then the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” which does exist with shofar—the enjoyment of hearing, note that with someone blowing for music there is really the father of “since he derived benefit,” because he really is blowing in order to sing, that’s the enjoyment he wants—therefore, but that is not the commandment, to enjoy the shofar. The reasoning of “since he derived benefit” is not relevant there. Maybe that is the explanation in Rashi; otherwise it is very hard for me to understand how the verse “a remembrance of a blast” teaches what Rashi bases things on. Okay? So that was the initial assumption. The initial assumption was that in fact we are dealing with mere preoccupation both in shofar blowing—both in someone blowing for music—and in the case where the Persians forced him. Notice: this is mere preoccupation, not a case where, look, he intended. It is mere preoccupation. Only with matzah it doesn’t bother me that it is mere preoccupation, because “he derived benefit,” while with shofar, since it is mere preoccupation, he does not fulfill his obligation. Okay? That is what I would have thought. So what is “this comes to teach us” there? As we said earlier with the Bach, it means that we are understanding the verse “a remembrance of a blast” incorrectly. Another possibility: “this comes to teach us” that you did not learn the verse “a remembrance of a blast” correctly. The novelty is in the laws of shofar blowing according to the Bach’s direction: that in the laws of shofar blowing, the point is not “a remembrance of a blast” but the commandment of blowing. According to Rashi, the novelty is in matzah and not in shofar: with matzah, the reason you fulfill your obligation is not because of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” because the problem is not a problem of mere preoccupation. The problem is a problem of intent, and commandments do not require intent. If that’s the point, then there really is no room to distinguish between shofar blowing and eating matzah. Because if the problem is not mere preoccupation but lack of intent, then lack of intent exists in all commandments. And if according to Rava commandments do not require intent, then just as if the Persians forced him to eat matzah he fulfilled his obligation, so too if someone blows for music he fulfills his obligation, since intent is not required. And this isn’t mere preoccupation here; it’s not mere preoccupation. Okay, that is basically one possible way to understand Rashi. What? What are you—In Rashi himself, you see: “this comes to teach us” that even though he is merely preoccupied, he has fulfilled his obligation, because commandments do not require intent.
[Speaker C] That’s not like—
[Speaker B] —the second approach. Rather—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is it then? Somehow it looks like Rashi identifies mere preoccupation with lack of intent. I’ve been going all along in the path of the Bach and the Mishnah Berurah, from the first lecture, that there are two levels. There is intent, meaning the intent to fulfill one’s obligation, and there is mere preoccupation, which is something more basic, something that according to all views is required—not to be merely preoccupied. Regarding intent, that is where the dispute is whether commandments require intent or do not require intent, right? Now in light of this “this comes to teach us” in Rashi, it seems that even in the initial assumption Rashi does not accept that distinction between intent and mere preoccupation. Rather, Rashi says that basically intent and mere preoccupation are the same thing. Okay? Except what? At first we thought that if intent and mere preoccupation are the same thing, then in the case where the Persians forced him to eat matzah, intent is not needed because “he derived benefit.” Right? With shofar there is no such reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” and therefore there intent is needed. “This comes to teach us” that commandments do not require intent. Therefore even with shofar, despite the absence of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” he fulfills his obligation. And Rashi says: “this comes to teach us” that even though he is merely preoccupied—but remember, for Rashi, mere preoccupation and lack of intent are the same thing—this comes to teach us that even though he had no intent, he still fulfills his obligation; the lack of intent does not bother me, and I do not need the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” In other words, Rashi’s novelty is still, as I said earlier, a novelty in the laws of eating matzah, not in the laws of shofar blowing as I said in the Bach’s direction. And the novelty is that the reason one fulfills one’s obligation in eating matzah is not because of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” but because commandments do not require intent. Ah—but mere preoccupation is something more fundamental; even if commandments do not require intent? No. Mere preoccupation and lack of intent are the same thing. If there were a problem of lack of intent—let’s say according to the one who holds that commandments do require intent—according to Rashi, it should apparently come out that in eating matzah he would still fulfill his obligation even according to the one who says commandments require intent. Why? Because “he derived benefit.” Since from Rashi’s perspective, “since he derived benefit” solves the problem of intent just as it solves the problem of mere preoccupation—it’s the same thing for him. Again, I don’t know whether he completely identifies “without intent” and “mere preoccupation,” but he claims that “since he derived benefit” solves both problems. What? No, mere preoccupation is the opposite. Mere preoccupation is disqualifying; it’s not to one’s advantage but to one’s detriment. Mere preoccupation is a category in prohibitions. Someone who does something in a kind of side way, as mere preoccupation, is not really directing himself to it. So the claim is that according to Rashi it comes out that “since he derived benefit” solves both the problem of mere preoccupation and the problem of intent. That is the point. In other words, what I said earlier: here “a remembrance of a blast” is written, therefore it is mere preoccupation, and therefore there is no “since he derived benefit.” Yes—I mean no—even if he enjoyed it, after all in someone blowing for music he certainly does enjoy it. But since the commandment is not about the enjoyment, the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” does not solve it, exactly as I said earlier. Commandments about benefit. That hasn’t changed. What I explained earlier is still true now. All I want to say is that Rashi apparently—again, I don’t know whether he identifies lack of intent with mere preoccupation—but he says that the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” just as it solves the problem of mere preoccupation, also solves the problem of lack of intent. Maybe that’s a more accurate formulation. Not that he identifies mere preoccupation with lack of intent, but rather that he says that… It could be that he accepts the Bach’s distinction, that mere preoccupation and lack of intent are two different things, two different levels, and the practical difference is that if you are merely preoccupied, then even according to the one who says commandments do not require intent, you do not fulfill your obligation. But with matzah, since he derived benefit, that solves both the problem of intent and the problem of mere preoccupation. Okay? That is what I would have thought. And with shofar, since there is no such reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” the problem remains. And in the conclusion, the Talmud says no: in the conclusion, these are practical commandments, not commandments of “a remembrance of a blast,” and therefore one does not need—sorry—and therefore even though there is no reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” there will not be a problem here because commandments do not require intent. Okay? “This comes to teach us” that commandments do not require intent, and the fact that in matzah you fulfill your obligation is not because of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” It would be so even without that reasoning, because commandments do not require intent. In other words, “since he derived benefit” also solves, according to Rashi, the problem of lack of intent, not only the problem of mere preoccupation. Now notice that according to this, it comes out that even if I distinguish between mere preoccupation and lack of intent, “the Persians forced him to eat matzah” and “someone blows for music” are not cases of mere preoccupation. Okay? They are cases of lack of intent. It’s just that Rashi thought, at least in the initial assumption, and perhaps also in the conclusion, that “since he derived benefit” solves also the problem of intent.
[Speaker C] It doesn’t matter that it says, “even though he is merely preoccupied.” No, he isn’t merely preoccupied.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Rabbi is now saying no, no, because according to Rashi, mere preoccupation and lack of intent—lack of intent is a kind of mere preoccupation. Yes. Therefore “since he derived benefit” solves both. But that doesn’t mean—there are different kinds of mere preoccupation. After all, later in the Talmudic passage, someone who thinks he heard the sound of a donkey does not fulfill his obligation. Rashi does not deny that. So there is a level of mere preoccupation—what we call in the context of prohibitions mere preoccupation—which would not help even in commandments. It’s just that Rashi sees intent as a kind of mere preoccupation, perhaps a higher kind, or one closer to fulfillment of the commandment, and the practical difference is that “since he derived benefit” solves also that. And what is “this comes to teach us” there? That the reason you fulfill your obligation with shofar is not because of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” It is even without that reasoning, and that is because commandments do not require intent. If commandments did require intent, then you would fulfill your obligation only because of the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” In other words, “the Persians forced him”—let me ask you a question now—if the Persians forced him to eat matzah, according to the one who says commandments require intent, did he fulfill his obligation or not? He did. Because “he derived benefit.” Ah—because “he derived benefit.” That’s a major practical implication. In other words, according to Rashi, if I rule that commandments require intent, and now they ask me: if the Persians forced him to eat matzah, did he fulfill his obligation or not? The answer is: yes, he did, because “he derived benefit.” But according to the one who says commandments do not require intent, Rashi says: don’t think that the reason he fulfilled his obligation when the Persians forced him to eat matzah is because “he derived benefit.” You don’t need to get to “he derived benefit,” because there is no problem in the fact that he had no intent. If there were a problem in his lack of intent, then “he derived benefit” would solve it according to the one who says commandments require intent. But Rava says that commandments do not require intent. So there is no problem here to solve. If there were a problem, “he derived benefit” would solve it, but there is no problem. So then what? Therefore there is no difference between shofar blowing and “the Persians forced him”—between someone blowing for music and someone forced by the Persians to eat matzah. Because in both cases what is missing is intent, but intent is not required. So I don’t need the reasoning of “since he derived benefit.” So why should there be any difference between matzah and shofar? True, with matzah there is the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” and with shofar there isn’t—but the problem does not exist in either case. So why should I care that the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” is absent in shofar? There is no problem that needs solving. The major practical difference is for the view that commandments do require intent. If commandments do require intent, then according to Rashi this passage would apparently imply that the reasoning of “since he derived benefit” solves the matter, and therefore with matzah intent would not be required even in Jewish law. Right. And therefore—No, so Rava claims, and this is Rava’s novelty—Rava claims that the reasoning of Shmuel’s father is based on the fact that commandments do not require intent, not on “since he derived benefit.” Therefore he says that the same law will apply to shofar blowing, to someone blowing for music. Fine? But you are right that the legal ruling of Shmuel’s father by itself does not prove Rava’s view. Exactly. That is exactly the novelty. And what was the initial assumption from which Rava is coming to move us away? The initial assumption was that commandments do require intent, and nevertheless Shmuel’s father’s ruling would still stand. Why? Because “he derived benefit.” Rava comes to reject that. Now rejecting it means that Ulla understood it differently, but not that there is a difficulty from Shmuel’s father against the opinion that commandments require intent. Yes, right. Okay. Again: this is a bit incomplete in the text. You yourself pointed to Rashi: “even though he is merely preoccupied, he has fulfilled his obligation, because commandments do not require intent”—not because “he derived benefit.” In other words, we should have said: “this comes to teach us” that although he is merely preoccupied, he has fulfilled his obligation because “he derived benefit.” So what emerges in the conclusion? In the conclusion it comes out like this: Rashi holds that lack of intent is a more refined kind of mere preoccupation, and therefore the reasoning of “since he derived benefit,” in principle, solves it if intent were required. It’s just that according to Rava, intent is not required. Still, that does not mean that mere preoccupation in the lower, more deficient sense, according to Rava, fulfills the obligation. No, it does not fulfill the obligation. How do we know that? Exactly—that is the continuation of the Talmudic passage, right? How does the Talmud continue? Someone explain to me who Rabbi Yehoshua is. “So evidently Rava holds that commandments do not require intent. An objection was raised: if one was reading in the Torah and the time for the recitation arrived, if he directed his heart, he fulfilled his obligation, and if not, he did not fulfill his obligation. What, does that not mean that he directed his heart to fulfill his obligation? No—to read. ‘To read’? Here we are dealing with one who was reading for proofreading.” What does that mean? That it is mere preoccupation. Someone reading for proofreading does not fulfill his obligation even according to Rava, right? After all, it is Rava himself who answers this.
[Speaker C] What Rashi says is: there is no reading here at all.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. Meaning, there is a level of mit’asek that is not just lack of intention. In other words, if there there had been the factor of “since he benefited,” that would also have exempted this case, and there it doesn’t apply; this isn’t forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations, apparently he didn’t derive pleasure from the Torah reading. So since there is no “since he benefited,” here he does not fulfill his obligation. Why? After all, commandments do not require intention. Because it’s clear that even Rashi, who identifies mit’asek with a certain kind of mit’asek, does not say that there is no difference between the two levels. He does not disagree with what we saw in the Bach and in the Mishnah Berurah in the first lecture, that everyone agrees that a mit’asek does not fulfill his obligation, and the whole dispute is only about intention to fulfill one’s obligation. Okay? He only claims that “since he benefited” would exempt both. But these are still two different levels. And here is the proof. The proof is that later, after you reached the conclusion that really there is no difference between one who blows the shofar for music and one whom the Persians forced to eat matzah, and in both cases he fulfills his obligation because commandments do not require intention, suddenly it becomes clear that there is something where one really does not fulfill his obligation even according to Rava: when he is reading in order to proofread, because that is already real mit’asek. If here, say, you were eating matzah in order to enjoy the matzah, like one reading in order to proofread, I don’t know, eating matzah incidentally like that, you would fulfill your obligation because “since he benefited”; meaning, that would really be mit’asek, not just lack of intention. But “since he benefited” exempts the problem of mit’asek even for positive commandments according to Rashi. Okay? It’s just that in the case of one whom the Persians forced to eat matzah, you simply don’t need “since he benefited,” because the problem is not mit’asek at its lower level, but rather intention to fulfill one’s obligation, and such intention is not required.
Let’s say according to the one who holds that commandments do require intention: if you do an act without intention, why do you not fulfill your obligation? Because you are a mit’asek, according to Rashi. That’s called mit’asek. If commandments require intention, then really the essence of the commandment is the desire to fulfill one’s obligation. If you do it not in order to fulfill your obligation, then you’re just a mit’asek; it’s like reading in order to proofread. Maybe that’s a better formulation-do you understand what I’m saying? Meaning, according to Rashi, it turns out that in commandments, intention is a kind of mit’asek. And if someone holds that commandments require intention, he is essentially saying that when you do a commandment, what is the essential meaning of the matter? That you intend to do God’s will. That is what it means to do a commandment. If you don’t do that, it’s like reading in order to proofread; it’s not some side deficiency. The commandment is not the action. The commandment is the action done in order to do God’s will, in order to fulfill one’s obligation. If you don’t do it in order to fulfill your obligation, then you’re just a mit’asek. But if there had been “since he benefited” here, then that really would have exempted it, because “since he benefited” exempts the problem of mit’asek. Okay?
So there is a novelty here in Rashi’s view, specifically according to the one who says that commandments require intention. According to the one who says commandments require intention, first, it follows that the definition of performing a commandment is performing a commandment for the sake of Heaven. The “for the sake of Heaven” is not an external condition; the “for the sake of Heaven” is the commandment-act itself-that you do it for the sake of Heaven. Otherwise, if you do that same commandment, the whole commandment, just not for the sake of Heaven, it’s like reading in order to proofread. It’s not a commandment-act at all, not that it is a commandment-act missing some side external condition; it’s not a commandment-act. A commandment in its essence is a command to do God’s will, to fulfill one’s obligation. That is part of the definition of the commandment-act, and therefore if you don’t do it that way, it is like reading in order to proofread-it is mit’asek. Okay, that is basically the claim.
Only according to the one who says commandments do not require intention-that is his dispute. His dispute with the one who says commandments require intention is the question: what is a commandment? According to the one who says commandments require intention, the commandment is essentially to fulfill one’s obligation. That’s the commandment. The practical case is that you wave a lulav or blow a shofar or do various things, but really the essence of the commandment is the desire to fulfill one’s obligation. It’s like-think, for example, about rabbinic commandments or rabbinic prohibitions. Maimonides’ position is that the authority of the Sages to enact ordinances and decrees comes from “do not turn aside.” Nachmanides disagrees, because he says that otherwise it turns out that every rabbinic prohibition is a Torah-level prohibition-you violate “do not turn aside,” cases of doubt would require stringency, and so on. But Maimonides says that all these things are rooted in “do not turn aside.” So if that’s the case, when I eat chicken with milk, what prohibition did I violate? Maimonides. Maimonides, yes. According to Maimonides’ view: “do not turn aside,” right? I violated “do not turn aside,” and therefore he says that doubts require stringency and so on.
Now there are many rabbinic prohibitions, but all of them are really just the prohibition of “do not turn aside.” What is the prohibition of “do not turn aside”? The obligation to obey the Sages. Meaning, there is no prohibition against eating chicken with milk; there is an obligation to obey the Sages. It just so happens that the Sages said not to eat chicken with milk, so obedience means do not eat chicken with milk. But the prohibition is not eating chicken with milk; the prohibition is not obeying the Sages. A practical difference, for example, is the Netivot in siman 234, where the Netivot says that if someone commits a rabbinic transgression inadvertently, he does not have to repent, he does not need atonement-there is no transgression here at all. Why? Because in rabbinic transgressions, the transgression is not eating chicken with milk. I ate chicken with milk-so what? That’s not the transgression. In rabbinic transgressions, the transgression is disobeying the Sages when you eat chicken with milk. Okay? And if the rebellion against the command of the Sages is absent, then there is no transgression here at all-not that some side condition wasn’t fulfilled; it’s simply not a transgression.
Now my claim is that according to Rashi, the one who says commandments require intention understands Torah law the way the Netivot explains rabbinic law. There is only one commandment altogether-not 613 commandments-to obey the Holy One, blessed be He. That is the commandment. Now the Holy One, blessed be He, said various things, so each of the things He said-the obligation to obey Him means that one must do it. If you do it not in order to obey the Holy One, blessed be He, then you didn’t do a commandment-sorry, you didn’t do a commandment-because the commandment is to obey the Holy One, blessed be He. Okay? And that is the dispute over whether commandments require intention or not; the dispute is over the question: what is a commandment?
So you didn’t do a commandment? Of course you didn’t do a commandment, because that is exactly the claim: that the commandment is not to give charity; the commandment is to obey the Holy One, blessed be He. He said to give charity, so you give charity-and that is not called obeying. To obey means to know that there is a command and to respond to the command-that is called obeying. Obeying is a mental act; obeying is not a physical act. Physically, you gave charity-that is not called obeying. To obey means to know that He commands and to respond, to be obligated by the command-that is called obeying. Obeying is a statement about the person, not about what he does, about his soul. If you do something that you do not recognize, you have not fulfilled the commandment. Yes, right. In principle you don’t need to know the whole Torah, because the commandment you are giving you do recognize, so you fulfill it even without that. But if you fulfilled a commandment that you do not know exists at all, then indeed you did not fulfill a commandment. Right.
I claim that yes, but that’s a topic that has to be discussed separately. Maybe I said that perhaps I’ll get to it at the end of the series. I claim that commandments require faith / belief, even if they do not require intention, they do require faith / belief. For example, a secular person who performs a commandment-that is not a commandment. And if a secular person commits a transgression, that is not a transgression. Therefore causing, say, a secular person to transgress-there is no prohibition in that in my opinion; there is no “do not place a stumbling block.” By “secular” I mean someone who does not believe, not someone who is lax, but someone who does not believe, does not accept the existence of commandments or is not bound by them or sees it as some sort of myth. Because that is not called disobeying. Because disobeying means knowing that there is a command and not obeying. That’s it. So therefore here, inadvertence means there was no transgression at all. Not that the transgression exists with reduced guilt, as is usually the case. Inadvertence is usually a claim about guilt, the level of guilt. The transgression existed, only you are not guilty because you didn’t know; you have mitigating circumstances. Those are arguments about punishment. The Netivot claims no: in rabbinic transgressions, inadvertence means this is not an argument about punishment, it is an argument about the conviction itself. There was no transgression at all. Because the transgression is to know there is a command and to rebel against it.
No-if you didn’t know there was a transgression, then you didn’t commit the transgression at all, not that you transgressed inadvertently. The transgression just isn’t there at all, because you didn’t know there was a command. Not that you didn’t know “do not turn aside.” You didn’t know that this thing was chicken; you thought it was soy in milk. So you ate it. Okay? Now you say-there is no transgression here at all, says the Netivot. Why? Because the rabbinic transgression is not eating chicken with milk. That is not the transgression. The rabbinic transgression is eating chicken with milk when you know it is prohibited and you do not obey. And intention is the transgression; it’s not a side condition. If intention was missing, then it is not a transgression at all.
And similarly, the Ran in Kiddushin writes-you know that doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel, doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel is permitted. Okay? That is a law given to Moses at Sinai. So he says that you can take definite orlah outside the Land of Israel and give it to someone who does not know it is orlah to eat. Causing someone to stumble in a prohibition-how can you give it to him to eat? So he says because the meaning of doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel is-Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman explains in an essay-that essentially doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel is permitted, or all Torah-level doubts that are permitted: there is a whole series of prohibitions where, although they are Torah-level, their doubtful cases are permitted. Doubtful-but doubtful firstborn, doubtful mamzer, various things. Or doubtful impurity in the public domain, doubtful orlah outside the Land of Israel, and the like. So all Torah-level doubtful cases that are permitted stem from the fact that the prohibition is a prohibition on consciousness, not on the act. Orlah outside the Land of Israel is not a prohibition on the object, that orlah itself is forbidden to eat. It is forbidden for you to eat something that you know is orlah. It is a prohibition on consciousness, not on the action. So if you don’t know that it is orlah, then you have not violated a prohibition, even though you ate orlah.
Now notice: I am causing him, from the outset, to violate the prohibition of eating orlah-definite orlah. But from his perspective he doesn’t know. Yet it is definite orlah; I know it is orlah. I am allowed to cause him to stumble. Incidentally, Rabbi Elchanan there in the essay claims that according to this Ran, it follows that all prohibitions whose doubtful cases are lenient-it is permitted to cause someone to stumble from the outset even in definite cases. For example, if I know that a woman is a mamzeret, I can set her up with so-and-so, who doesn’t know, and dance at their wedding. From the outset. Because a doubtful mamzer is permitted by Torah law. Later they imposed extra strictness in matters of lineage, but by Torah law a doubtful mamzer is permitted. So by Torah law I can set up a mamzeret with a kosher Jew and dance at their wedding, marry them off and dance at their wedding. Because the prohibition is not on the mamzeret herself, but on the awareness that this is a mamzeret and I am marrying her. And if that awareness is absent, there is no prohibition-not that it is an argument for reducing punishment or guilt.
The Sages have sources; each such source tells us that its doubtful case is permitted. What does that mean, that its doubtful case is permitted? It means that apparently this prohibition, unlike ordinary prohibitions, is a consciousness-based prohibition. Because when the Torah says that a doubtful case of this prohibition is permitted, even though generally a Torah-level doubt requires stringency, and the Torah says that a doubtful case of this prohibition is permitted, it is thereby telling us that this prohibition is a consciousness-based prohibition. Therefore, if you are in doubt, then you have not violated the prohibition, because in terms of consciousness you do not know that there is a prohibition here. Okay?
In any case, for our purposes I want to say the same thing here. According to Rashi, it seems that the dispute between the one who says commandments do not require intention and the one we haven’t yet encountered, who says that commandments do require intention, is really a dispute over the question: what is a commandment? According to the one who says commandments require intention, he is basically saying there is only one commandment in the Torah, not 613. The commandment is to obey the Holy One, blessed be He. There are many ways of obeying, because He commanded many things. In each one, obedience is expressed in a different way-to wave a lulav, to eat matzah, to blow a shofar, honor parents, keep the Sabbath. It doesn’t matter-all of these are really one commandment: to obey the Holy One, blessed be He. Just like with “do not turn aside,” where all the prohibitions are really just obeying the Sages-it’s not that there are different names of prohibition. It’s not like you disobeyed in this commandment and in the other things you did obey. That’s it. Why get to the “as if”? In this you did not obey and in the other things you did obey. That’s it. You violated one prohibition and did not violate the other prohibitions.
Therefore, when one says commandments require intention, what he is really saying is that if intention is missing, then you are a mit’asek. You did not do the commandment at all. It’s not a side condition. And therefore he says that if there is “since he benefited,” then yes, you did do it-so that serves as a substitute for the required intention. The one who says commandments do not require intention says no: intention is an external condition, a side condition. It does not prevent fulfillment, but it is an external condition. Therefore, if you performed the commandment without intention, then on the conceptual level this is mit’asek, but that type of mit’asek is okay because commandments do not require intention. But real mit’asek-that is, when you are not doing the commandment at all-and according to him, lack of intention is not “not doing the commandment at all”; rather, it is doing the commandment but missing a side condition. Did you do the commandment at all, as in one reading in order to proofread? There indeed he did not fulfill his obligation unless there is “since he benefited,” but otherwise he did not fulfill his obligation.
As for the substance of the matter, you do fulfill your obligation. So it’s not an issue-you fulfill your obligation. If you put on tefillin without intention, you do not then need to go back and put on tefillin again; you fulfilled the commandment. Clear? The requirement of intention according to his view is only from the outset. From the outset-that is what they say; everyone says one should have intention. The dispute is whether it is indispensable, okay? But if it is not indispensable, that means that if you did the commandment without intention, you fulfilled your obligation. Here’s the practical difference I mentioned earlier: if a secular person put on tefillin with the Chabad guys on the street, put on tefillin and then repented in the afternoon-and if not to Chabad, otherwise it doesn’t count-so if he repented in the afternoon, does he need to put on tefillin again? He didn’t put on tefillin. It’s not a commandment. You think that’s more logical, but the Amoraim disagreed. What? I didn’t understand. Is there a need to know that it is by force of the command? There is a value in it, yes, only that value is not indispensable. No, no, I’m speaking about a secular person. About a secular person I said that commandments require faith / belief. Even one who says commandments do not require intention-commandments do require faith / belief. Faith / belief is indispensable; otherwise it is mit’asek, it is like reading in order to proofread. If you don’t understand at all that there are commandments in the world, then it is like reading in order to proofread. You are not really doing it. The very concept of a commandment does not exist in your world.
Yes, yes, someone who does not believe in the giving of the Torah-he can believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, in some philosophical sense. Maimonides says this; Maimonides says at the end of chapter 8 of the Laws of Kings-he is speaking about a resident alien, but it is clear that it is the same for a Jew-so he says that a resident alien who keeps the commandments because of intellectual conviction and not because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them at Sinai, is one of the wise men of the nations of the world but not one of their pious. And not one of their pious. That’s an interesting implication. I claim that yes, you are right. Right, and even with respect to him he would not be liable for a sin-offering, but if he were liable for a sin-offering it would only be one. This is connected to the topic of a child taken captive-the dispute over how many sin-offerings a child taken captive is liable for. I have an article on this issue, and there I discussed a bit of this as well.
In any event, the Ritva here writes: “You might have said that there, ‘you shall eat matzot’-the correct explanation is like Rashi’s interpretation-that the assumption would have been that a commandment of eating is different, since his throat derives pleasure, as we say regarding prohibitions: one who is a mit’asek with forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations is liable to bring an offering because he already derived pleasure, which is not the case with one who is a mit’asek in the forbidden labor of the Sabbath. But here it is mere mit’asek-therefore it teaches us. Meaning, that all commandments are of one pattern in this matter, for with prohibitions one may distinguish in this regard, but with positive commandments they all have one path in common, and if this one does not require intention to fulfill one’s obligation, then the other also does not require intention. However, in a case of real mit’asek, certainly he does not fulfill his obligation. And this is what it means: it teaches us that since he intended the blowing, he fulfilled his obligation-not blowing in order to fulfill his obligation, but blowing and not the sound of a donkey.” Right? “And we do not judge him under the law of mit’asek, in which he would not have fulfilled his obligation.”
Here he says it explicitly. He follows Rashi’s approach, and he says explicitly-he is basically saying this: with regard to mit’asek, mit’asek exists both in prohibitions and in commandments. Meaning, a prohibition done as mit’asek is not a prohibition, and a commandment done as mit’asek is not a commandment. “Since he benefited” exempts the problem of mit’asek. Okay? Intention is only in commandments, not in-not in prohibitions; prohibitions do not require intention. Meaning there are two levels: there is intention and there is mit’asek. Therefore even according to the one who says commandments do not require intention-Rava-in the conclusion, if he is a mit’asek then he does not fulfill his obligation in any commandment.
Except that he apparently argues-at least that is how it seems from him-that with positive commandments they all have one path in common. What does he mean by “they all have one path in common”? What is he coming to exclude? That there is no difference between matzah and shofar. Why is there no difference between matzah and shofar? One could say because he distinguishes between intention and mit’asek. And “since he benefited” does not exempt the problem of intention. It only exempts the problem of mit’asek, because intention is something else. Earlier in Rashi I said not so; I said that “since he benefited” exempts even the problem of intention. Therefore, for example, according to the one who says commandments require intention, there would be a difference between commandments that involve pleasure and commandments that do not involve pleasure. Commandments that involve pleasure-even without intention you would fulfill your obligation, because “since he benefited.” Right? And commandments that do not involve pleasure-then according to the one who says commandments require intention, if you did not intend, you did not fulfill your obligation.
In the Ritva it somewhat sounds like he is saying that with regard to intention there is no difference between types of commandments. Now it could be that he says this only according to the one who says commandments do not require intention, and then this is true also according to Rashi. According to the one who says commandments do not require intention, there is no difference-not because there is “since he benefited” in both places, but because you don’t need “since he benefited,” since intention is not needed. But if you really say there is no difference between types of commandments at all, even according to the one who says commandments require intention, then you have said something different from what I said earlier in Rashi. Then you have basically said that intention is not from the family of mit’asek; it is something else. And “since he benefited” exempts the problem of mit’asek; it does not exempt the problem of intention. Therefore, according to the one who says commandments require intention-if intention is required-then if you did a commandment without intention, even in commandments that involve pleasure, you did not fulfill your obligation, because “since he benefited” does not exempt the problem of intention; it only exempts the problem of mit’asek.
I think-again, it’s not explicit-but I think the plain sense of the Ritva’s language sounds more like this, not like what I said earlier in Rashi. Because in Rashi I said that according to the one who says commandments require intention, if there is a commandment that involves pleasure, then “since he benefited” will solve the problem even if you did it without intention. Because Rashi understands intention as a kind of mit’asek, and that is removed by “since he benefited.” The Ritva seems to learn differently. “It teaches us”-at first we thought that intention is a kind of mit’asek; “it teaches us” that it is not. Intention and mit’asek are two different categories. And “since he benefited” exempts only the problem of mit’asek, not the problem of intention. Now with regard to intention, according to Rava intention is not required, so there is nothing to exempt, and therefore there is no difference between a commandment that involves pleasure and one that does not involve pleasure. Okay?
What happens according to the one who says commandments require intention? According to what I said earlier in Rashi, in commandments that involve pleasure, even if you did them without intention you fulfilled your obligation-because “since he benefited.” If I understand the Ritva correctly, that is not what the Ritva says. The Ritva says that if you did it without intention, even in commandments involving pleasure you did not fulfill your obligation. And why? Because “since he benefited” exempts the problem of mit’asek, not the problem of intention. The problem of intention is not a lighter version of mit’asek; it is a different type, and “since he benefited” is irrelevant there. And truthfully, that is much more logical. Because intention to fulfill one’s obligation-why assume that if you don’t intend, that is called mit’asek? And if it is called mit’asek, why should pleasure exempt the problem?
Fine-if indeed, as I explained earlier in Rashi, the essence of the commandment is to intend, then so what if I enjoyed it? Does that mean I intended? After all, the essence of the commandment is to intend. So I enjoyed it-so what if I enjoyed it? With transgressions I explained why “since he benefited” is a substitute for mit’asek, because there mit’asek serves to connect the act to you. If you are a mit’asek, the act is not connected to you. If you benefited, then that connects the act to you despite the fact that you were a mit’asek, and since the requirement is only that the act be connected to you, “since he benefited” connects the act to you, and therefore it is a transgression. But if, as I explained earlier in Rashi, intention is required not in order to connect the act to me but because that is the essence of the commandment-the commandment-act is to intend-then so what if I enjoyed it? If I did not intend, I did not perform the commandment. Why do I care that I enjoyed it? Okay? It seems to me that what emerges here from the Ritva sounds more-more reasonable according to what I said earlier.
Let’s say hypothetically there is such a person, yes? Right. And worse than one reading in order to proofread-he doesn’t even know that he’s reading. He’s just… floating somewhere out there. Right, he did not fulfill his obligation. In a place where this really is indispensable, then he did not fulfill it. In the first blessing of the Amidah, the blessing of the Patriarchs, he did not fulfill it. But in the other blessings, if it is not indispensable, then indeed-the well-known Rema says that even in the blessing of the Patriarchs today there is no point, because even if we go back we won’t have proper intention, so there is no point in repeating it.
Okay, now maybe let’s go back for a moment-notice that the Ritva has an interesting remark here. Look at the beginning of his words. See? “The correct explanation is like Rashi’s interpretation.” What does he mean, “the correct explanation is like Rashi’s interpretation”? He had another interpretation before him, but the correct one-he doesn’t bring it; I looked, he doesn’t bring another interpretation. He says, “but the correct one is like Rashi’s interpretation,” so apparently there was some other interpretation there. Why am I hanging onto this? Because I looked a bit for medieval authorities (Rishonim) who interpret it differently. It annoyed me-when I read the Gemara, the plain explanation was in the direction of the Bach; that’s the straightforward reading of the Gemara. Who brought in here “since he benefited,” mit’asek? What connection is there at all between intention and mit’asek? Why mix these two things together at all? Suddenly “since he benefited” for positive commandments? It’s a truly puzzling midrash of Rabbi Shlomo Fischer, yes-I mentioned this in the previous lecture. But I didn’t find anyone who says it explicitly. Here in the Ritva there is some hint that there is some other explanation-I don’t know which.
Now look at what I did find-the Rabbeinu Hananel. Rabbeinu Hananel writes like this: “Rava said-this means that one who blows the shofar for music fulfills his obligation, such as that which is written: ‘Praise Him with the blast of the shofar’-they blow in order to praise, and similarly if he blew them in the proper order, even though it was for music, the listener fulfilled his obligation, because commandments do not require intention. The Gemara asks: Isn’t that obvious?” He brings the Gemara and explains: “Isn’t that obvious? You might have said: there, the Merciful One said, ‘You shall eat matzot,’ and he did eat. But here, in the matter of the shofar blasts, we require intention of the heart, and it is absent-therefore it teaches us that commandments do not require intention.” He does not mention “since he benefited,” does not mention mit’asek, mentions nothing. So what does he say? We had some initial assumption that commandments do not require intention, right? Therefore in shofar blowing, one who blows for music fulfills his obligation because commandments do not require intention, even though it is for music. But still we had an initial assumption in matzah-even though he ate, after all he ate the matzah-why shouldn’t he fulfill his obligation? He says no, in the matter of shofar blasts-sorry-with shofar he did blow. So he says: “But here, in the matter of shofar blasts, we require intention of the heart.” Why? Yes, that’s the initial assumption. Why? What’s different there-after all, commandments don’t require intention? It says “a memorial blast,” right? This is really in the direction of the Bach, right?
Meaning, because regarding shofar it says “a memorial blast,” I would have thought that there intention is indispensable, and if you blow for music you do not fulfill your obligation-therefore it teaches us that you do. Now the phrase “therefore it teaches us that commandments do not require intention” is strange. “It teaches us that commandments do not require intention”-I knew that already before. The initial assumption was only with regard to shofar, that there a special intention would be needed, right? And the “therefore it teaches us” is a novelty in the laws-I said that according to the Bach’s approach when you read it that way, the novelty of the Gemara is a novelty in the laws of shofar blowing, not a novelty in the laws of whether commandments require intention, and not a novelty in matzah. So that’s a bit strange: “therefore it teaches us that commandments do not require intention.” Therefore, in my opinion, Rabbeinu Hananel-pay attention to these nuances, because it looks similar but you have to read it firmly and sensitively-I think Rabbeinu Hananel means not exactly in the Bach’s way. It’s similar, but not exactly the same. He means that “a memorial blast” is not some special intention. “A memorial blast” says that here we need the intention to fulfill one’s obligation. The intention to fulfill one’s obligation, which is generally not required because commandments do not require intention-with shofar it would specifically be required, okay? Because it says “a memorial blast.” It’s not adding an extra intention like the Bach; rather, it adds the ordinary intention-only here it would be required, despite the fact that generally commandments do not require intention according to Rava. With shofar specifically it would be required, and it teaches us that even here it is not required.
Incidentally, this fits the Bach somewhat in the sense that the “therefore it teaches us” does not contradict the Bach. Because according to the Bach it turns out that in the conclusion indeed the special intentions are not indispensable, so why in the other three cases does he say they are? But here he says no, this is not speaking about special intentions at all. “A memorial blast” only comes to say that perhaps here intention to fulfill one’s obligation would be indispensable-therefore it teaches us that it is not. The whole business with tefillin, sukkah, tzitzit-there those are special intentions; it could be that there they are indispensable. That was not discussed here; that is something else, okay? If this is not talking about special intention, then the “therefore it teaches us” actually supports the Bach. And the initial assumption is not in the Bach’s way, but the “therefore it teaches us” actually works better for the Bach.
Okay, in any case I think that from Rabbeinu Hananel we can see that he did not learn in the direction of Rashi and his camp. Right, this is not a question of mit’asek and “since he benefited,” and so on. For him the whole discussion here does not concern mit’asek at all. One who blows for music-the conclusion is: commandments do not require intention, meaning all commandments do not require intention. Fine, that is what he means by “it teaches us that commandments do not require intention.” What about mit’asek? They didn’t discuss that at all. That will appear later in the Gemara when the Gemara brings one reading in order to proofread, or when it says that he thinks it is the sound of a donkey and the like-there it will appear, that mit’asek, even according to Rava, does not fulfill his obligation. But so far they are not dealing with mit’asek-not like Rashi and the Ritva and their camp.
Fine-there in the Rosh, where commandments do require intention, and with regard to matzah they do not require it-but why, why? The fact is that he ate it; from time to time he eats it. Obviously-here too he blew. In the case of one who blows for music, he also blew, and the blowing let’s say is the same as “and he ate it.” What’s the difference? The commandment is to eat without… with shofar too the commandment is to blow; he blew. Ah-you’re making a different point; there is another remark here. Why does he add, “and it is written: ‘Praise Him with the blast of the shofar’-they blow to praise”? Why is that part interesting? What are these praises, this “fruit of praises”? It teaches-
that he should not be a mit’asek. Similar to the reasoning I said earlier. What does he mean to say? Similar to the reasoning I said about “since he benefited.” What do I mean? He doesn’t mention “since he benefited,” but something like it. He means to say this: the commandment in blowing the shofar is to praise the Holy One, blessed be He, with the shofar. Okay? To praise the Holy One, blessed be He, with the shofar means to make music in His honor. Therefore one who blows for music is a case of one who lacks intention. If the commandment were just to blow-the act of blowing-not blowing in order to praise, then when you blow for music it would be like reading in order to proofread; it would be mit’asek. Meaning, when it is a case of lack of intention, that is only if you do the very same action itself, just not for the purpose of fulfilling your obligation but for another purpose. But if you do a different act, which is really not even of the same type as this act, then it is mit’asek; it is like reading in order to proofread.
Meaning, because the praising is part of that same action. When you blow the shofar for music, you blow in order to praise. And now the commandment too is to blow in order to praise. The commandment is to blow in order to praise-that, and only that, is the commandment. So what are you missing? You are not missing the praising. You are missing only fulfilling your obligation. Rava says fine, that is not needed. Commandments do not require intention. But if the commandment were not to praise, and you blew for music-which is really to praise-then you would not be doing the act of the commandment at all. That is even before the question of whether commandments require intention; that is mit’asek. It is like reading in order to proofread.
This is somewhat like what I said about “since he benefited”: if the commandment is a commandment to enjoy, then “since he benefited” says okay, since he benefited, then he did the commandment even if he is a mit’asek. But if the commandment is not to enjoy, but rather to do something else that just involves pleasure-while the commandment itself is not to enjoy-then if you enjoyed, that does not mean you fulfilled your obligation. Only if the pleasure itself is what has to be done in the transgression, not in the commandment. If the transgression is a transgression to derive pleasure in such a way, then “since he benefited” can say fine, even if you are a mit’asek you committed the transgression. Because it is the same type of act-the transgression is to derive pleasure. Okay?
It’s like-Maimonides says regarding prohibitions of eating: in the Gemara in tractate Pesachim 21 there is a dispute between Rabbi Abbahu and Chizkiyah. Does every place where the Torah says “you shall not eat,” include both eating and benefit? That is Rabbi Abbahu’s view. And Chizkiyah’s view is no. If it says “you shall not eat,” then that’s eating, and benefit requires a separate source, if at all. Maimonides explains Rabbi Abbahu’s view in several places in different formulations, but in the Book of Commandments, regarding meat and milk-I think commandment 113-he explains that the prohibition of, say, being forbidden to eat pork means there is no prohibition to eat pork. The prohibition is to derive benefit from pork. It’s just that the usual way to derive benefit is by eating. Eating is the usual form of deriving benefit. Consequently, when the Torah says not to eat, it also means benefit, because really the prohibition is not on eating at all; the prohibition is on benefit, only it brings eating as the common act of benefit. Yes, that is how one generally derives benefit.
It’s like when the Torah says, “If one man’s ox gores his fellow’s ox.” From here I learn the law of damage caused by goring. What about a dog that bites his fellow’s chicken? That too is the same thing. Why? Because the Torah used an ox goring another ox as an example; it’s simply a common example of intentional damage, but I understand that the Torah means to state here a general principle and this is just its example. Maimonides says the same here: when it says “you shall not eat,” the eating prohibition uses eating as a common example of the way one derives benefit. That’s all. But really the prohibition is a prohibition on benefit. Okay?
So what I really want to say here is that the prohibition on forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations is essentially a prohibition on the pleasure involved in forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations, not on the action. Fine? The action gives me pleasure, and that is what is prohibited; I am forbidden to derive pleasure from forbidden fats and from forbidden sexual relations. Consequently, if you did it as a mit’asek, the reasoning of “since he benefited” says that nevertheless you are liable; nevertheless you committed a prohibition. But in a place where the prohibition is not on the pleasure-for example with meat and milk, I want to claim that the prohibition is not on the pleasure. It requires-it’s a long discussion in Maimonides there in the Book of Commandments on meat and milk. There he lays out the whole issue, and specifically with meat he explains there why meat and milk needs three sources: for eating, for benefit, and for cooking. After all, everywhere there is a prohibition of eating, benefit is also implied. So why are three sources needed?
So I think what he means to say there is this: that the prohibition of eating meat and milk really is a prohibition on the act of eating, not on deriving benefit through eating. Therefore an additional source is needed to prohibit benefit. Only in places where the prohibition is on the pleasure of eating do I say fine, eating is not specific-the intention is that all forms of benefit are prohibited; eating is just an example. But there are places where the prohibition is a prohibition on the act of eating, not on the pleasure involved in eating. Practical differences-there are many practical differences to this, regarding a partial measure and many other things-there will be practical differences between meat and milk and other prohibitions, or the sciatic nerve. With the sciatic nerve too, there is no pleasure-it has no taste, it’s like wood, the taste of wood. So there is really no pleasure at all. How then is eating the sciatic nerve prohibited? So clearly it is a prohibition on the act of eating, not on pleasure through eating, because there is no pleasure there. Okay, and practical differences-a partial measure and various other things.
So here too, in Rabbeinu Hananel, with “Praise Him with the blast of the shofar,” his whole introduction is basically saying that one who blows for music-and this is an important point-one who blows for music is considered one who lacks intention, but he is not considered a mit’asek. And that is only because the commandment to blow the shofar is a commandment to praise by means of the shofar; it is not a commandment concerning the act of blowing. If it were a commandment concerning the act of blowing, then one who blows for music would be a mit’asek. It would not be a case of lack of intention; it would be mit’asek. Fine? But if the commandment is to praise, I did that, just not in order to fulfill my obligation. Fine? So if that is so, then all I am missing is intention. It is not mit’asek; it is just someone who did a commandment without intention.
So if I am right about Rabbeinu Hananel, then what emerges here is actually another approach regarding special intentions. After all, according to the one who says commandments do require intention, according to Rabbeinu Hananel, then what do we learn from “a memorial blast”? After all, in the initial assumption, “a memorial blast” comes to teach that here intention to fulfill one’s obligation is needed. But according to the one who says commandments require intention, everyone agrees that it is needed anyway. What do you mean? You say that this is the source for the view that commandments require intention. That itself is his source. Well, that doesn’t appear anywhere. I think what it teaches is that there is a special intention here, like the Bach. According to the one who says commandments do not require intention, when there is a verse teaching that intention is needed, why invent another intention? The ordinary intention to fulfill one’s obligation-which generally is not needed-here the novelty in the initial assumption is that it is needed, okay? But according to the one who says commandments do require intention-after all, that intention is needed in any case. So why do I need a verse teaching me about intention in shofar blowing? It could be that this joins the Bach’s list-that here too there is a special intention that is indispensable. And it remains indispensable even in the conclusion, not just in the initial assumption.
What? And what else? Was it written just for rhetorical beauty? Well then what do you learn from it? The Gemara always tries to learn something from a verse that otherwise teaches nothing. The Gemara asks, fine, so what do we do with the verse, right? In many passages. What do we do with the verse? Or from where do we learn that law that you didn’t learn? Verses are not left redundant-certainly not verses that the Gemara itself brings in order to learn things from them. Meaning, if the Gemara itself learns from it a special intention, then why assume that the one who says commandments require intention would not learn the same thing? On the contrary, for him it would also remain in the conclusion; only he would learn it not about ordinary intention. So as I said, maybe it is like the Jerusalem Talmud about shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath-that they do not blow, but only remember. So I say yes, but first of all, in the Babylonian Talmud it is not written. That is only in the Jerusalem Talmud. In the Babylonian Talmud it is a rabbinic law that we do not blow. Beyond that, the Gemara itself here tries to learn from it regarding intention. Now Rava drops it because it doesn’t fit for him; he cannot maintain it. But according to the one who says commandments require intention, why should he not retain it? Especially since according to the Babylonian Talmud there is no derivation of the Jerusalem Talmud regarding shofar blowing on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath. So he would keep Rava’s initial assumption, only according to his view that initial assumption is not dealing with the ordinary intention-the ordinary intention is required in all commandments. And what you learn from shofar is the special intention, and that is a good source for the Bach’s general approach. Only he would have had to add shofar blowing to the Bach’s three commandments.
Now the Gemara continues-this is moving slowly. “An objection was raised: If the listener had intention but the one sounding did not have intention, or if the one sounding had intention but the listener did not have intention, he did not fulfill his obligation, until both the listener and the one sounding have intention. Granted, if the one sounding had intention and the listener did not have intention-one can say that he thought it was merely a donkey’s sound. Yes, we saw that.”
[Speaker E] What is mit’asek?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is mit’asek? And he does not fulfill his obligation even according to Rava. But rather-if the listener had intention and the one sounding did not have intention-how can that happen? Is it not a case of one blowing for music? Perhaps it is a case where he was just making random noises. The listener can say that he thought it was merely a donkey, but the one sounding cannot say it was merely a donkey-unless he thinks he is a donkey. But the one sounding knows that it is not a donkey. So what does it mean, the one sounding had intention-the one sounding did not have intention?
[Speaker C] What? What does it mean, the one sounding did not have intention?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Did not have intention, yes. He did not think it was a donkey. He intended it for music, right? So what do we see? If the one sounding has to intend, we see that he must intend not for music but to fulfill the obligation. The Gemara says: perhaps he was just making random noises. Meaning, it could be that he did not do proper blasts, he did not intend to blow for the commandment, and therefore he also did not blow properly. He made short barking sounds and not according to the required measure, and therefore he did not fulfill his obligation. Fine, so that is not really because of the law of intention; rather, he did not intend to make a shofar blast here at all, so he did not do it properly. It’s like reading, really-it’s like reading in order to proofread or something like that, yes.
In any event there is something a bit problematic here, because what they say here is that you need the listener’s intention and the intention of the one sounding. So with regard to the listener’s intention-if I am talking only about the case where the one sounding intended but the listener did not intend, then the listener thinks it is merely a donkey and therefore he did not fulfill his obligation. Right? But if the listener did not intend, how can that be? It would have to be that he is blowing for music-the one sounding, yes-one blowing for music, or making random noises. Both of those things are very problematic. Because if the one sounding intended and the listener did not intend, that is not because the listener thought it was merely a donkey. Rather, if he did not intend to fulfill his obligation, then he did not fulfill his obligation by the law that hearing is like responding. Even according to Rava, who says that commandments do not require intention, it could still be that the law that hearing is like responding does not take effect if the listener and the one sounding do not intend to discharge and to fulfill. The Gemara assumes that it does. Meaning, the Gemara identifies these two things. Do you understand what I’m saying?
And the same applies if the one sounding did not intend and the listener did intend. Yes? If the one sounding did not intend and the listener did intend-why do we need to get to random barking sounds? “The one sounding did not intend” means he did not intend to discharge the listener. He intended to fulfill his own obligation; he did not intend to discharge the listener. And for the law of hearing is like responding to work-so that the listener fulfills his obligation through the one sounding-you need the intention of the one discharging and the intention of the one fulfilling. What does that have to do with the law of whether commandments require intention? In the Gemara here it seems to connect the need for intention regarding listener and one sounding who discharges and who fulfills, to the issue of whether commandments require intention. Meaning, according to Rava, if commandments do not require intention, then you also do not need the intention to discharge and to fulfill in the case of listener and one sounding, under the law that hearing is like responding. Right? That seems quite clear from the Gemara here. The Gemara identifies the requirement-or lack of requirement-of commandments requiring intention with the requirement-or lack of requirement-to intend when you fulfill through someone else. Because hearing-what do you mean? He blew and I heard-what’s the problem?
[Speaker B] Wait, wait-is it possible that he can discharge you if he did not intend to discharge you?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? How is this different from doing a commandment without intending to? Is that supposed to tell me that I don’t fulfill my obligation? Why? Why? Fine, I understand, but why? Why should anyone disagree about that? Isn’t it obvious? No, it’s not obvious. Because here too, you did it. He blew and you heard. What’s the problem? And if I intended to fulfill my obligation, but he didn’t intend to enable me to fulfill mine? Does that also not count for me? I intended to fulfill my obligation, and he intended for the commandment but didn’t intend to enable me to fulfill mine. Is it obvious that I wouldn’t fulfill my obligation without that? I don’t see why that’s obvious. Especially if you’re already in a difficulty, once you’re already in a difficulty, you look for answers—what’s the problem? It’s an obvious answer. “He was just making noise” is a forced answer. You’re basically saying that the intention being discussed here is not at all the intention we’ve been talking about—not intention to fulfill one’s obligation. He simply didn’t perform the commandment properly. He barked instead of—rather than blowing. And that’s what it means that he had no intention. To have intention means intentionality, not that you didn’t do the act. That’s forced. But if you accept that forced reading, then you have an obvious answer. Meaning, somehow the Talmud apparently took it as self-evident that the question of the listener and the one enabling him to fulfill his obligation depends on the question of intention to fulfill one’s obligation in an ordinary commandment. And if according to Rava commandments do not require intention, then the listener and the one enabling him also do not need intention, and they fulfill their obligation even without it. That’s what comes out of the Talmud here, right? And that’s why it immediately gets to “he was just making noise,” because it has no other way out. That itself is interesting. Why is that? Why is it like that? Seemingly there was room to distinguish. Again? That’s what they’re saying. The question is why you need to get there. Say that he blew properly, he just didn’t intend. Yes. Why? Because the intention to fulfill one’s obligation—that’s what I’m saying. The intention to enable and to fulfill is intention to fulfill the obligation of the commandment. The intention that he should enable me to fulfill it. When I ask why. The Talmud says—it doesn’t say that it isn’t needed. They say that if you hold that commandments do not require intention, then you also don’t need the intention of the hearer and the one making him hear. Meaning, the rule that hearing is like responding isn’t detached from the question whether commandments require intention. According to the one who says commandments require intention, then with hearing as responding you need the intention of the one speaking and the one hearing. According to the one who says commandments do not require intention, then you don’t need the intention of the hearer and the one speaking. You do need—the one speaking, of course, needs to intend to fulfill the obligation, okay? Or rather, he doesn’t need to intend to fulfill the obligation, and the hearer also doesn’t need to intend to fulfill the obligation, and the fact that he didn’t blow but someone else blew and I fulfill my obligation through him—that’s not a problem. You don’t need intention in order to fulfill your obligation through hearing as responding if commandments do not require intention. Now, on the face of it there was plenty of room to distinguish between them. The question of whether commandments require intention is a question about the person himself who performs a commandment—whether he needs to intend to fulfill his obligation. When you perform a commandment on my behalf, and you want to enable me to fulfill my obligation by the rule of hearing as responding, maybe there too even Rava would agree that both of us need the relevant intentions in order for you to enable me to fulfill my obligation—not because of the rule that commandments require intention, but because of the rule of hearing as responding. In the Talmud you see that it doesn’t distinguish. Why not? You can understand this in two ways. You can understand that it’s just logic—we’re making some substantive analogy between the two things. Just as commandments don’t require intention, hearing as responding also doesn’t require intention. If the act itself counts even without the accompanying intentions, then with hearing as responding it’s the same thing. The same reasoning that applies here applies there too. But it could be that the connection is an essential one. What does that mean? If commandments do not require intention, then why should he intend to enable me to fulfill my obligation? After all, when he intends to enable me to fulfill my obligation, what that’s supposed to do is transfer his intention to me. But if commandments do not require intention, then there’s no need to transfer his intention to me. So he doesn’t need to intend to enable me to fulfill my obligation. Everything that needs to be intended in order to enable me to fulfill my obligation, and that I need to intend in order to fulfill my obligation, is whatever goes beyond intention for the commandment itself. And I actually mean that maybe there, you don’t even need intention for the commandment. He needs to intend the commandment—he’s the one blowing. I now want his commandment to be credited to me. Okay? For that, he has to intend to enable me to fulfill my obligation, and I have to intend to fulfill mine. But why? After all, he blew, and I heard, and everything is fine. Yes, but I didn’t intend to fulfill my obligation. And the only one who can intend to fulfill the obligation is the one blowing. So if I want his intention to fulfill the obligation to help me, to pass over to me, then here you need the intention to enable and to fulfill. But according to the one who says commandments do not require intention, then there’s no need to transfer his intention to me, because I don’t need intention in order to fulfill my obligation. So by the same token, there’s also no need to intend to enable and to fulfill. Not because of an analogy that if commandments don’t require intention then hearing as responding also doesn’t require intention—that was the first possibility I mentioned. The second possibility is no, it’s not the same thing. True, the intention required there is also a different intention, and it’s not the same thing. But if commandments do not require intention, then you don’t need intention in hearing as responding because there’s nothing for it to do. Not because you don’t need it because the act works even without it. No—because there’s no need to do it. Because if intention isn’t required, then what’s the problem? Then I fulfill my obligation even without intention. So there’s no need to transfer anything from him to me. This will depend a bit on a question—I don’t know if we’ll have time to get to it—in the law of hearing as responding there’s a dispute among the later authorities about what exactly goes along with it. There’s a dispute among the later authorities on the question whether accompanying requirements are also transferred under the rule of hearing as responding. For example, in Kiddush, let’s say that according to some views there’s a requirement to stand. So if the person reciting Kiddush is standing and the listeners are sitting, is that considered that they recited Kiddush while standing? Or loudly—he said it out loud and they listened. Okay? So they fulfill their obligation by hearing as responding. So the speaking loudly, the standing, the Kiddush over wine—he did it over wine, there was wine in front of him; there’s no wine in front of them. Did they fulfill their obligation? Kiddush has to be over wine. So the question is. There are later authorities who want to argue that the rule of hearing as responding merely enables fulfillment and says, as it were, that I too spoke. He spoke and I didn’t speak, and hearing as responding means it’s as if I also spoke. But whether I spoke over wine, while standing, and so on—that does not transfer by hearing as responding. That I have to do myself. Therefore I also have to stand for Kiddush; hearing as responding isn’t enough for that. I also have to stand and I also have to hold wine. It has to be over wine. Okay? In contrast, there are those who say no, it transfers to me not only the speech—it transfers to me also the speech. Or really, it doesn’t even transfer the speech to me; rather, the commandment of speech, what the speaker did, passes over to me completely—the entire commandment. It is considered as if I did what he did, including all the accessories: standing, saying it aloud, over wine, and the like. Something like that is what I want to say about intention. In the rule of hearing as responding, the question is whether you transfer to me only the commandment that you perform, while intention requires something additional; or whether by hearing as responding you transfer the commandment to me, and if you intended thereby to fulfill the obligation, then that too transfers to me. Meaning, the entire commandment that you performed is as if I myself performed it. Maybe what I said earlier will depend on this. Why, if
[Speaker B] I intend, and he
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] doesn’t? Why not? If intention isn’t required, then why shouldn’t it work? What’s the problem? Why—he did it properly, right? And enabled you to fulfill your obligation. And he enables you to fulfill it even without your intending to fulfill it and without his intending to enable you. Because the physical act can enable you to fulfill your obligation even without that. The only thing you need to intend is in order to transfer the intention to you. To transfer the intention. But intention isn’t required. Okay? Because commandments do not require intention. As for this, you could say—and I mentioned this in the previous class—if the commandment is only to hear, then the whole discussion is unnecessary. I heard, and I only need to intend to fulfill my obligation if commandments require intention, or I don’t need to intend to fulfill my obligation if commandments do not require intention. Okay? And then in fact the whole discussion drops out completely, so there’s no rule of hearing as responding here at all. Okay? There’s no rule of hearing as responding here at all. So simply, I heard and fulfilled the commandment. In a blessing that you recite on my behalf, or speech that you say on my behalf, then there is a rule of hearing as responding, because I didn’t speak and you did. But with shofar blowing, if the commandment is to hear, then who heard? I heard. The only thing is—there may still be some law here, we’ll see if we have time to get to it—there may still be some requirement to hear from a blower who performed a commandment. What kind of shofar do you hear? You hear a shofar that was blown for the sake of the commandment. Okay? And then it could be that there is still some dependence of yours on something done by the one blowing, even though your commandment is to hear and you heard. Okay? Fine, when we get to the definition of shofar blowing for the commandment of shofar blowing, then fine. Okay, I’ll stop here. The continuation of the passage regarding “do not add,” so if you haven’t gone over it, then go over it. For now I still won’t get into it; we’ll see, we’ll get to it I hope, we’ll get to it later. There are several things we still need to get to later. Fine. Maybe from the first class cycle. His second or third cycle, I think. The school’s fourth grade or his fourth year? His. At the school there was another year or two before that. Of course. So there really were a lot of people. I remember too. Of course. Maybe you knew my mother too, right? Oah Abraham. She actually came later, maybe. She worked there too. Yes, yes. Of course. I also taught there a bit as a student. Enrichment classes. It was already many years. Right? Good. Very good. Yes.