Rules of the Melachot – Lesson 2

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So either it’s a kind of primary category, or it’s a primary category proper—yes—or, if it isn’t important, and I still haven’t explained what “important” means, if it isn’t important then it’s a derivative category, depending on the different views. So in Rashi, I’d say you could also understand him like the second view, that you need both the Tabernacle and importance. We learn it from the Tabernacle—but what do we learn from the Tabernacle? Only something important. Okay? But in the Ra”kh—look at the Ra”kh—he says here: that which was in the Tabernacle is called a primary category of labor, and that which was not in the Tabernacle is called a derivative. Importance does not appear in the Ra”kh’s version. And in fact the Ra”kh is very often based on the Jerusalem Talmud, and in the Jerusalem Talmud too that really seems to be the implication. Importance doesn’t play a role, only the Tabernacle. Then the claim would be maybe everything under discussion is important labors anyway, which sounds plausible. But that’s not the point; it doesn’t play a role here. Among the important labors, what was in the Tabernacle is a primary category, what was not in the Tabernacle is a derivative. So that is definitely a third view, the view of the Ra”kh. What? By reasoning. Yes. In the end, really, you can ask that according to everyone, not just according to the Ra”kh. According to the second view in Tosafot, that you need both importance and presence in the Tabernacle—how do you decide what was important? If you need both presence in the Tabernacle and importance, how do you decide what is important? By reasoning. Meaning, you decide what is important. So I’ll talk about that. Again? There’s no criterion here—I haven’t yet presented a criterion. According to the Ra”kh you mean? That what was not in the Tabernacle is a derivative. Apparently—I assume at least—that for him importance is the framework within which the whole discussion takes place. We’re only talking about important labors. Those that were in the Tabernacle are primary categories; those that were not in the Tabernacle are derivatives. By the way, there’s a somewhat problematic point here: what happens if there was something in the Tabernacle—sorry, something not in the Tabernacle—that I can’t find, can’t find anything similar to it that was in the Tabernacle? Then what, whose derivative is it? It will be a derivative because it wasn’t in the Tabernacle, but a derivative of whom? It has to be a derivative of one of the primary categories that were in the Tabernacle. That means it’s supposed to resemble a labor that was in the Tabernacle. And if there were some labor that wasn’t there and doesn’t resemble anything that was in the Tabernacle? What? I don’t know, a hammer? Striking the final blow was there, yes, but—but why—if I find some labor that wasn’t? In other words, there’s apparently some assumption here that the labors in the Tabernacle spread out over more or less all fields of human activity. Otherwise I just can’t understand how one can grasp Rabbi Chananel’s view, right? There’s some interpretive assumption here that says the Tabernacle is like a kind of miniature world. Meaning, everything done in the Tabernacle is really all the significant labors that exist in the world, somehow or other, appearing in one form or another in the Tabernacle. And therefore anything that was not in the Tabernacle—I’ll always be able to find for it some primary category in the Tabernacle of which it will be the derivative. This has practical implications that we’ll get to later when we talk about electricity on the Sabbath. Electricity on the Sabbath, yes, as is well known—I’ll say in one sentence—it apparently was not in the Tabernacle, and when this issue began to arise, the halakhic decisors were somewhat unsure what to do with this creature. It sort of seemed obvious to them that such a thing couldn’t be permitted, and now they needed to find some peg to hang it on, yes—what lofty tree can we cling to? What do we do? So they came up with all sorts of strange inventions, some more convincing, some less convincing, but it’s pretty clear that this was after the fact. First they decided it was forbidden, and then they looked for what to hang that on. There were indeed some who were more straightforward and said: it is rabbinically forbidden. Yes, we didn’t find a primary category of labor. What? Right, it’s rabbinically forbidden. A rabbinic prohibition is more straightforward in that sense, because you don’t find a primary category in the Tabernacle that you can lean on, because it isn’t similar. But on the other hand, how can you create a rabbinic prohibition when there is no authorized institution that enacted that prohibition? A rabbinic prohibition is created by an enactment of a religious court. If a religious court didn’t establish it, then there is no rabbinic prohibition. Now, a halakhic decisor today, with all due respect to him, can decide whatever he wants, but he cannot establish that something is rabbinically forbidden. Okay, so you need to find an existing rabbinic prohibition on which to hang it. So, for example, “creating something new”—the Beit Yitzchak hangs it on that, and all sorts of things like that. No, either that’s not so, or it really can be grounded there; that needs to be checked. Right, exactly so—you have to check. Every such attempt to hang it on something has to be examined on its own merits. Exactly. What? Yes, that’s the rabbit in the sleeve—good, always a catch-all clause, so to speak. Anything you want to forbid becomes weekday-type activity. Of course, once you permit it on the Sabbath, then it won’t be weekday-type activity, because people do it on the Sabbath too. In other words, it’s something self-constructing. Fine. In any case, weekday-type activity is also not Torah-level—or perhaps “resting” according to Nachmanides—but simply speaking, weekday-type activity is certainly not a stoning-level prohibition; it’s not a labor prohibition. Whether it is Torah-level or not—there are Nachmanides and Ritva who say it is Torah-level under the heading of “resting”—but in any case it is not a labor prohibition. Most opinions say it’s altogether rabbinic. In any case, fine, we’ll talk about that too—about the Chazon Ish with building, and kindling, and all those things. I’ll already tell you that in my view the Chazon Ish is one hundred percent right: it’s building. But I’ll speak about that later. So that is the third view, and we always have to remember how in the end we distinguish between primary categories and derivatives. We need to reach the conclusion that, say, according to the first view, importance determines the primary categories, right? Whether it was in the Tabernacle or not doesn’t matter. As for derivatives—that is, things that are not important—if it was in the Tabernacle then it’s a derivative, and if it wasn’t in the Tabernacle then it’s permitted. Okay? Now, the unimportant things that were in the Tabernacle are derivatives. Derivatives of what? Maybe there is nothing among the important things in the Tabernacle that resembles them. Again, the same question I asked about the third view. What? So you are assuming—an interesting assumption, and that’s where I was heading—that “importance” does not mean, say, the degree of creativity in the labor, but rather importance means the degree of uniqueness it has, how different it is or how much it carves out its own place among the other labors. Because one could understand the concept of importance along those two axes. One could understand importance in the sense that this is sufficiently significant creative activity and it makes a meaningful change in the world—and therefore it is a significant labor. Or one could understand “significant enough” in the sense that it carves out its own place, meaning that it is unique. All right? By contrast, something unimportant would mean not distinguished—distinguished in the sense that you single it out separately, meaning it is not separated from other things. It could be very creative, but not separated from other things, and then that is called unimportant, and it would be a derivative if it was in the Tabernacle. What? I don’t know if it’s indispensability; I don’t think that’s the point. Rather, how much does it change the world—what degree of creation is there here? We’ll get to this in a moment, but what degree of creation is there here? How much did you alter the world through this labor? Yes—how different is it from what was there before? That, basically, is the question of importance in the simple conception. But it is certainly possible that importance has another plane as well, and that is a classificatory question. Meaning, “important” and “unimportant” in the sense that it is not significant enough to establish a separate primary category. It can be included in another primary category. In the count of the commandments, for example, there are very similar considerations. There are commandments that are not important and therefore are not Torah-level, and there are commandments that are not important in the sense that they are not unique, and therefore are included within an existing Torah-level commandment. Not that they are not Torah-level—they are Torah-level—but they are not a separate Torah-level commandment; rather, they are included in another Torah-level commandment. For example, the blessing over Torah study: Nachmanides’ view is that this is included in Grace after Meals. Okay? What does that mean? It isn’t Grace after Meals, okay, but it apparently belongs to the same section of blessing the Holy One, blessed be He, for something He gave us. So it doesn’t matter whether it’s food or Torah or whatever. Okay? So according to Nachmanides this is “not important,” not because it isn’t important in the sense that it isn’t significant enough to bless for. It is just as significant as blessing for food. It is “not important” in the sense that you can’t make it into a separate commandment; it is included in the commandment of Grace after Meals. Not in the sense that it isn’t significant enough to bless for. Okay. By contrast, others say it is not Torah-level at all. Apparently blessing over Torah is not significant enough like blessing over food. Significant not in the classificatory sense, but truly significant—and so it is less important. Okay? So the same thing applies when I speak about primary categories and derivatives of labor. When we speak about importance, we can speak about importance in the sense of how special it is, how separate it is from the others, and we can speak about importance in the sense of how significant it is. If it is very significant, then it has the status of a primary category. The Ra”kh discusses this at the beginning of chapter seven regarding a derivative of a derivative. There are views that say yes; the Ra”kh wants to argue no. How far does this go? With small changes, can you end up saying that standing on one foot is forbidden on the Sabbath? You can make a metamorphosis between any two things. We learned that from Escher, right? You know Escher’s drawings? He starts with a collection of fish and ends with a collection of birds. Now you move continuously from this state to that state, and it isn’t clear where it stops being a collection of fish and starts being a collection of birds. Okay? Now today it’s very easy to do this computationally. Just take any two pictures and build another image in which each pixel is defined as phi times this pixel plus one minus phi times that pixel. Then let phi run from zero to one and you’ll see that you have a metamorphosis from this picture to that picture. Okay? And that’s how you can connect any two concepts. So if you want me to connect selecting with standing on one foot, no problem. Draw a picture of someone selecting, draw a picture of someone standing on one foot, one minus phi times this plus phi times that, and let phi run from zero to one. You’ll see that really standing on one foot is selecting with a modification. A somewhat large modification, but still a modification. Okay, that’s all. Meaning, you can always… you can get anywhere with this conception. And in fact the Ra”kh argues that there is no derivative of a derivative, but that is not agreed upon. What? Labors… I’m saying, it depends on the different views. Yes. So according to the first view—again, let’s summarize for a moment. According to the first view, only importance determines the primary categories, and the Tabernacle may determine things with regard to derivatives. What does that mean? What is not important—if it was in the Tabernacle, it is a derivative; if it was not in the Tabernacle, then it is nothing. Okay? Now what does “not important” mean in that context? What? If “not important” means not unique enough—that’s not relevant, right? What does “not unique enough” mean? If it isn’t unique enough, then you’re telling me it is a primary category; it was in the Tabernacle and it isn’t unique enough, so it is a primary category. There is no reason it should be a derivative—that means it is a primary category. Because it was in the Tabernacle like the primary category. What? That relates to an earlier question, so why doesn’t it affect what I’m saying here? Either decide whether it is an additional primary category or not. Meaning, if importance here means importance in the sense of uniqueness, then according to the first view what comes out? That what is important is called a primary category. What is not important—not important in the sense of uniqueness—then if it was in the Tabernacle it is a derivative, and if not then not. Why? If it is only in the sense of uniqueness, then you’re telling me that if it is sufficiently similar to the primary category, then basically it should be forbidden. So why should things similar to primary categories that were not in the Tabernacle not be forbidden? That makes no sense. Apparently “not important” means not important in the sense of not sufficiently creative, not in the sense of not sufficiently unique. And then they say to me: look, even if it isn’t sufficiently creative, if it was in the Tabernacle then it will still be a derivative. It won’t be a primary category, but it will be a derivative. If it isn’t important and it also wasn’t in the Tabernacle, then they won’t forbid it. Meaning, not Torah-forbidden, yes? That’s the first view. The second view, which tells me that you need importance and the Tabernacle for something to be a primary category—if one of those two is missing, then it is a derivative. What does importance mean there? The second view, that you need importance and the Tabernacle for something to be a primary category, and if one of them is missing then it is a derivative—that is the second view in Tosafot. What kind of importance is meant there? We can speak about both kinds of importance. Right? It even sounds reasonable. Meaning, after all, people also walked in the Tabernacle, right? They walked. That doesn’t mean walking is a primary category of labor on the Sabbath. Why not? Because the Sages apparently understood that walking is not creative enough; it’s not really a significant act of making. So that’s importance in the sense of degree of creativity. On the other hand, it’s also clear that importance in the sense of uniqueness plays a role here, because otherwise it is included in another primary category you have already counted. Why bring this one in as well? Okay? So there was room to interpret the importance here along both axes: that it be sufficiently creative and that it be sufficiently unique. And if it is not important but was in the Tabernacle, or important but was not in the Tabernacle, then it is a derivative. And again, “important” here can apparently be interpreted along both axes. Let me just remind you—I’m now recalling the Talmudic text. At the beginning of Klal Gadol, the Talmudic text says: sowing, selecting, and sifting are all the same. Meaning, all three are acts of separation, where you separate waste from food, just in different forms: sowing, selecting, and sifting. Okay? Then the Talmudic text says that because they were in the Tabernacle they are three primary categories. So that is interesting, because it means that here there is no uniqueness, no importance in the sense of uniqueness, right? They’re telling you that essentially it’s the same thing. And nevertheless, because it was in the Tabernacle, it is counted as three different primary categories. So that means uniqueness—importance in the sense of uniqueness—doesn’t play much of a role when you are in the Tabernacle. Notice, by the way, this is also an example of three labors that are similar in the purpose of the labor but not in the manner of execution. We discussed that regarding sowing and pruning. Okay? In short, there are many examples here, each of which has to be discussed separately. Here I’m only laying out the general map. The third view sees only the Tabernacle as important, significant. The Tabernacle is what determines things. What was in the Tabernacle is a primary category; what was not in the Tabernacle is a derivative. It seems there is no difference in importance. On the other hand, clearly what is not important will not be a primary category. So what does that mean? Apparently we are speaking only about important labors—important in the sense of creativity, degree of creativity. Only such labors are forbidden on the Sabbath. Among them, what was in the Tabernacle is a primary category; what was not in the Tabernacle is a derivative. How can I make sure that everything not in the Tabernacle will have some primary category above it? So we said: apparently there is some assumption that the labors in the Tabernacle covered all possible types of creative activity in the world. And if not, we’ll force them so that they do. Okay? Because it has to be so; that is an assumption of this view. Therefore, when I speak here about importance—when I speak, I’m not speaking here about importance at all; I’m speaking only about the Tabernacle. And the difference between primary categories and derivatives is the question whether it was in the Tabernacle or not. But everything is important. Important in what sense? Apparently in both senses. Also in the sense of creativity, because otherwise an unimportant thing would be neither primary category nor derivative—it simply would not be forbidden. And if it is not unique enough, then if it was in the Tabernacle—here—then it would certainly be a primary category. It is also likely that if it was not in the Tabernacle and not unique, that is not a reason to exempt it; on the contrary, that is a reason to obligate it as a derivative, because it is simply included in the derivative category it resembles, in relation to which it is not unique. Okay? Good.

In the Talmudic text on page 49, the passage that Rashi cited earlier, the Talmudic text brings two views—again, in a very telegraphic way. The scholars were sitting and asking: we learned, “The primary categories of labor are forty less one”—corresponding to what? How do we know that there are thirty-nine labors? Before I continue here: how do we know? What? No, no—how do we know there are thirty-nine primary categories? Not where the categories come from; how do we know there are thirty-nine? So one could say—it depends on the views, again, the three views. According to the third view, where only the Tabernacle determines things, you simply go through all the labors that were in the Tabernacle, and it turns out to be thirty-nine. Not that there was some prior datum that I had to reach thirty-nine—it just came out to thirty-nine. There’s a bit of a problem with sowing, selecting, and sifting, because there we have three labors that are counted separately only because they were in the Tabernacle; so it does seem a bit like a stacked deck and we know the number thirty-nine in advance, right? And we’re just trying somehow to get there. But on the face of it one could say: I simply counted all the significant labors that were in the Tabernacle and got to thirty-nine. Again I return to the count of the commandments, because very similar phenomena appear there. At the end of Makkot, the Talmudic text says there are six hundred and thirteen commandments, right? From the verse, “Torah was commanded to us by Moses”—Torah is 611, and two were heard directly from the Almighty—that gives 613. So all those who enumerate the commandments assume there are 613 commandments and they only argue over what to include and what to exclude within that count. But Nachmanides, at the beginning of his glosses on the first root of Maimonides—it’s not really connected to the first root; it’s simply the beginning of his discussion of the roots in the Book of Commandments—argues there: why assume at all that there are 613 commandments? Rabbi Simlai counted the commandments and came out with 613. But suppose I now decide that I disagree with Rabbi Simlai and I claim that this commandment is not Torah-level; it is rabbinic. Fine. Do I now have to find something else to insert in order to complete the count to 613? In the Talmudic text itself, for example, you don’t find that anywhere. That’s one of the observations. The Talmudic text nowhere says, wait, you claim this is rabbinic, so please complete for me your count of 613 commandments—what then are your 613? Nachmanides, by contrast, when he disagrees with Maimonides, does insert other commandments in order to complete the count to 248 and 365. That is why at the end you have the additions to Maimonides’ count—additions and subtractions—in positive and negative commandments according to Nachmanides. But at the start of his remarks he really argues: maybe 613 commandments is simply the number that came out for Rabbi Simlai because he just counted the commandments and that’s what he got. But it is not a datum that everyone has to match. Then if someone else disagrees and counts other commandments and comes out with 842, then he has 842 commandments. What? Right, so the question is how one relates to numerology. Is it just a kind of support text, a little embellishment to wisdom—numerical interpretations are embellishments to wisdom—or do we really see in it some substantial standing? So Nachmanides there really struggles with that. The Tashbetz also comments on it, and the Ralbag too, I think, comments on it. Some of them indeed remain with the view that there are no 613 commandments; it is just a myth. Meaning, Rabbi Simlai came out with 613 commandments, but if someone else disagrees, he disagrees—what difference does it make? But Nachmanides there ultimately says: yes, but we have a tradition that there are 613, apparently, and I don’t fully understand exactly where that comes from, but we have a tradition that this is so, so apparently there is a tradition from Sinai that there really are 613 commandments. He too therefore assumes that, and so he constructs the commandments he adds to Maimonides’ count in order to stay with 613. The same thing basically applies here. Meaning, if I assume that what happened here is simply that I counted all the labors that were in the Tabernacle and it came out to thirty-nine—not that I was given in advance that there must be thirty-nine primary categories of labor—then if someone claims that there are two labors in the Tabernacle that resemble one another, or that there is a labor which in his view is not important—not a commandment, a labor—which in his view is not important despite the fact that it was in the Tabernacle, then he will have thirty-eight. What’s the problem? The assumption that there are thirty-nine means: if that’s what you think, then bring me something else to complete the count to thirty-nine. But if there is no law that it must specifically be thirty-nine, then fine, each thing is judged on its own. In the case of the author of the Mishnah there in chapter Klal Gadol, who lists thirty-nine primary categories of labor, it came out to thirty-nine. Fine. But that is only incidental; it doesn’t have to be so. Now when the Talmudic text here asks “corresponding to what,” what does that mean? What is the Talmudic text assuming? That thirty-nine is an essential number, not incidental. Because if it were incidental, even if it’s true that there are thirty-nine, but if it were incidental then there would be nothing to discuss. Okay? So when they ask “corresponding to what,” that is very reminiscent of the 613, like “Torah was commanded to us by Moses.” Once we have a source for the number, that means the number is a given that one must take into account, and it is not the result of the counting. I happened to count and—oh, it happened to come out 613, or it happened to come out thirty-nine. No. It is a given that I have to take into account. I structure things so that in the end I reach the number that I know in advance I am supposed to reach. So already in the question you can see that. What does the Talmudic text say? Rabbi Chanina bar Chama said to them: corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle. Rabbi Yonatan son of Rabbi Elazar said to them: thus said Rabbi Shimon son of Rabbi Yosei ben Lakonia, corresponding to the occurrences of “labor,” “his labor,” and “work” in the Torah—forty less one. So the second one counts thirty-nine occurrences—thirty-nine times this word-root for labor appears in the Torah—and that is his source for there being thirty-nine primary categories of labor. So for him it is clear that the number thirty-nine is a fixed datum. Everything must fit that. Right? By the way, you can see that even more strongly later on. The Talmudic text later says: Rav Yosef asked, “And he came into the house to do his work”—is that counted or not? Is it part of the count or not? Then the Talmudic text starts discussing yes and no, and removes this “work” and inserts that “work.” It is clear that thirty-nine is fixed in advance. This game with the thirty-nine occurrences of “labor” in the Torah—they knew it was thirty-nine. It didn’t come out from the counting. Because they coordinate the counting so that it will come out thirty-nine. So not only does this discussion of “labor,” “his labor,” and “work” show that the number thirty-nine is specific and deliberate; it was evidently already fixed in the tradition before they counted how many times “labor” appears in the Torah. I knew it was thirty-nine. It’s a stacked deck. The exposition confirms a prior tradition; it doesn’t create it. So thirty-nine times that “labor” is written—that is Rabbi Yonatan’s second view. What about Rabbi Chanina bar Chama’s first view—“corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle”? What does he mean? It isn’t really “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle,” right? I simply take the labors of the Tabernacle, I count how many there are there, and it comes out to thirty-nine. In other words, he is saying that “corresponding to what” is a mistaken question. It doesn’t correspond to anything. He uses the phrase “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle.” It sounds as though he is proposing a source for the number thirty-nine, but there is no source for thirty-nine. He is saying: that’s simply how it comes out. And that fits very well, of course, with the third view. Because in the third view, when they tell us that the primary categories of labor are what was in the Tabernacle, right—what are they really saying? Count all the significant labors that were in the Tabernacle; enumerate them. Whatever comes out, that is the thirty-nine—that’s what there is. If you are talking about the important ones, then it doesn’t relate to the Tabernacle; you have no reason to count the labors of the Tabernacle, right? On the other hand, even when you talk about important labors, there too there is room to hesitate. Is it fixed in advance that there are thirty-nine, and I’m just asking myself which are the thirty-nine most important ones? Or did I count the important labors among all the labors in the world, and it happened to come out thirty-nine? Okay? So there is room for hesitation both according to the first view and according to the third view. Fine? So in the Talmudic text here, the first view—saying “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle”—fits the third view. And Rabbi Yonatan, who says this corresponds to the occurrences of “labor,” “his labor,” and “work” in the Torah—to whom does he fit? In principle he could fit everyone. But it seems to me more natural to connect him to the first view. Because if you are talking about the Tabernacle itself, then Rabbi Chanina bar Chama is really right. Why do you need to count for me how many times “labor” appears in the Torah? Just count all the labors that are in the Tabernacle—collect them, count how many there are—and you will get thirty-nine one way or another. What difference does it make? At most, one could say, perhaps this coordinates things somehow. You say: yes, but I am given that it must be thirty-nine from the occurrences of “labor,” “his labor,” and “work,” and now I have to arrange the labors in the Tabernacle so that they match thirty-nine—for example sowing, selecting, and sifting. All three were in the Tabernacle, but I count them as three even though they are similar, because they were in the Tabernacle and I need to reach thirty-nine. Okay? So it is possible to coordinate these two views with the views here—not necessarily. The first one is much more naturally attached to the third view. “Corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle” means that what was in the Tabernacle are the primary categories. Then there is no given that there were thirty-nine primary categories of labor here. By the way, Rabbi Yehuda, for example, holds that there are forty primary categories of labor, not thirty-nine—the Talmudic text says so. So this whole business that thirty-nine is a fixed number is not so simple. I think you can see from the Talmudic text here that there are various extras, but you get the point. In any case it is not a number fixed in advance. It isn’t that thirty-nine was known beforehand. It may be that you are right that by certain criteria one could decide what I count. Okay, possible, yes, possible.

So those are the two views that appear here in the Talmudic text. After that the Talmudic text says: it was taught in support of the one who says “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle,” as it was taught: one is liable only for a labor similar to one that was in the Tabernacle. They sowed, and you shall not sow; they reaped, and you shall not reap; they lifted the beams from the ground to the wagon, and you shall not bring in from the public domain to the private domain; they lowered the beams, and you shall not take out—and so on. Fine. In short, what does it say here? The one who says this is “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle”—what is he saying? One is liable only for a labor similar to one that was in the Tabernacle. That no longer fits the first view. The first view hangs everything on importance, so this has nothing to do with the Tabernacle at all. One is liable even for labors that had no counterpart in the Tabernacle, if they are important. Not only is one liable for them—they are even primary categories. Of course one is liable for a derivative too, but here it’s not only that one is liable; it is even a primary category. So this sharpens even more what I said above: Rabbi Chanina bar Chama, who says it is “corresponding to the labors of the Tabernacle,” fits very well with the third view. They simply counted—that’s all. Not that the number is thirty-nine, but simply that what defines things is the Tabernacle alone. You count what was in the Tabernacle, and it comes out thirty-nine. I’m saying: according to the first view, even primary categories do not require that anything similar to them existed in the Tabernacle, and certainly not derivatives. What is important but was not in the Tabernacle is a primary category. So how can one say that one is liable only for what had something similar in the Tabernacle? What? No, the second view might perhaps still work. Because every primary category was in the Tabernacle. It is also important, fine, but it was in the Tabernacle. So for what was not in the Tabernacle, one is not liable. What? For primary categories, yes. In short, I’m saying that the continuation of the second section in the Talmudic text strengthens even more the identification I made between Rabbi Chanina bar Chama and the third view we saw among the medieval authorities (Rishonim), so it may well be that these differences already begin with a dispute among the Amoraim.

Yes, just one example—I mentioned it. The Talmudic text on page 73 says: one who sows, prunes, plants, layers, and grafts—they are all one labor. One who prunes is liable because of planting, and one who layers and grafts is liable because of sowing. What does it mean that “they are all one labor”? There are disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) here. There are four views, at least as far as I saw. In Rashi, all of these are primary categories except for pruning. They are all called primary categories. Yet in the list of the thirty-nine primary categories in Klal Gadol this doesn’t appear; what appears is only sowing. Okay? No, only sowing. But exactly—that is, Rashi apparently understands that all of these are really the primary category of sowing. Meaning, they are simply different applications of sowing, that’s all. That is what he means by “primary categories”; he does not mean that there are four separate primary categories here. And pruning, he claims, is a derivative. That also makes sense, by the way, in light of what I said earlier, because pruning is for the same purpose, but the mode of execution is completely opposite, and therefore he says it is really only a derivative and not a primary category. Okay? By contrast, according to Tosafot, sowing and planting are primary categories and the rest are derivatives. Meaning, sowing and planting are the most similar—that is fairly obvious. Layering, grafting, and so on are indeed somewhat more distant. Yes, I mean how exactly they fit that into the Talmudic text—whether they “plant” it there or “layer” it there—is another question, but I mean the idea that stands behind the view. Okay? According to Maimonides, all of them are one primary category: sowing, including pruning. And according to Rabbi Chananel, only sowing is a primary category, planting is a derivative, and layering is a derivative of a derivative. A derivative of a derivative, yes. What practical difference does a derivative of a derivative make? Good question. But that is what he claims. Look in Maimonides—it is important to see the context. In chapter seven of the laws of the Sabbath he writes as follows: the labors for which one is liable to stoning and karet when done intentionally—yes, stoning and karet when intentional—or a sin offering when done unintentionally: some of them are primary categories and some are derivatives. Yes? There is no difference between primary categories and derivatives; for each of them, if done intentionally there is karet and stoning, and if done unintentionally there is a sin offering. And these are forty less one. Then he lists them: plowing, sowing, and so on. Then: all these labors, and anything that is of their nature, are what are called primary categories of labor. What does “anything that is of their nature” mean? Anything similar to them. Fine? Notice: anything similar to them is called a primary category. Not that the similar thing is a derivative. No—if something resembles a primary category, then it itself is also a primary category. It is a primary category not in the sense that it has to be added to the list—the list has only thirty-nine primary categories—but in the sense that it has the status of a primary category. He says: what does “their nature” mean? One who plows, digs, or makes a furrow—this is a primary category of labor, because each and every one of them is digging in the ground; it is one matter. For Maimonides this is called akin to a primary category. Likewise, whether one sows seeds, plants trees, bends branches into the ground, grafts, or prunes—all of these, all the examples we just saw in the Talmudic text, all of these are one primary category among the primary categories of labor, and it is one matter, because each of them intends to cause something to grow. That really is similarity in purpose. Okay? So all these are a primary category. Likewise, whether one reaps grain or legumes, harvests grapes, cuts dates, picks olives, or gathers figs—all of these are one primary category of labor, because each of them intends to uproot something from its place of growth. And similarly with the other primary categories. Up to this point he listed only primary categories. In the language of the later authorities (Acharonim), this is called a primary category and something akin to a primary category. Fine? In Maimonides there is a primary category and something akin to a primary category, as distinct from a derivative, which he will define in a moment. Fine? Meaning there are things that are not derivatives; they are akin to a primary category, and their status is like a primary category. The derivative, says Maimonides in law 5, is labor similar to one of these primary categories. How so? One who cuts vegetables into very small pieces in order to cook them is liable, because this labor is a derivative of grinding, since the grinder takes one body and divides it into many bodies. And anyone who does something similar to this is a derivative of grinding. Likewise, one who takes a piece of metal and files it in order to remove its dust, as goldsmiths do—this is a derivative of grinding. So in Maimonides you can really see that the degree of similarity between the labor we are discussing and the primary categories is what determines the scale. If it is very similar, their nature is one, then it is akin to a primary category. If it is similar but not entirely similar—we said that a derivative has to be similar but not entirely similar—then it is a derivative. If it is not similar, or the similarity is even more remote, then it is nothing—there is no Torah prohibition at all. So in Maimonides there are three categories, or even four. There is the primary category, and that is the thirty-nine. There is that which is akin to a primary category, which can include very many labors, but they all fall under the thirty-nine categories. There can be derivatives as well, also potentially many, each of which also falls under one of the thirty-nine categories, but at a greater distance. And there are things whose distance is already so great that they are not forbidden by Torah law at all.

Now one more note about Rabbi Chananel and the Jerusalem Talmud—that the Tabernacle is what determines things. One might have understood that the Tabernacle is an indication of importance: what was in the Tabernacle is important, even though Rabbi Chananel does not have the word “important” in his version. “What was in the Tabernacle is important” would mean that the Tabernacle is an indication of importance. If it was in the Tabernacle, then it is significant. That is a bit strange, because clearly even within the Tabernacle not everything that was there is important—walking is not a primary category of labor. So how do you determine what was important? There, reason enters. But if reason determines what is important, then why do I need the Tabernacle? Let reason itself determine what is important. And sowing dyes? And sowing dyes, since I sow them and then I reap them and then I make dyes from them and dye the fabrics. And that is called labor that was in the Tabernacle. Distant things—it doesn’t seem that reason plays no role; you can’t take things with no significance at all and turn them into a primary category just because they were in the Tabernacle. But if reason is what determines what is important and what is not, then the Tabernacle is not an indication of importance. Rather, it could be that the Tabernacle itself is the importance. Important things that were not in the Tabernacle are not important for purposes of the Sabbath, and therefore were not forbidden—not because they are not important in terms of degree of creativity, but because what was forbidden is what was in the Tabernacle. That is what was forbidden. The reason it was forbidden is not because it is significant creative activity. The reason it was forbidden is because it was in the Tabernacle. The Tabernacle is, in effect, the reason; it is not a sign, not an indication. What does that mean? You don’t have to conclude immediately that the Tabernacle is the reason. But important things that were not in the Tabernacle are not forbidden. So if important things that were not in the Tabernacle are not forbidden, right? Good. Then that means the Tabernacle is a reason—it is a necessary condition for the prohibition. Not sufficient, okay, but a necessary condition. Meaning, the reason is the Tabernacle—sorry—it is the reason for the prohibition. It is not an indication; it is not: if you were in the Tabernacle that testifies that you are something. Fine. I said: necessary but not sufficient. But still it is part of the reason that… no, obviously. And I’m saying it is a reason as opposed to an indication, as opposed to a sign. Sign and reason in the yeshiva sense. It is not an indication; rather, your being in the Tabernacle is the reason it was forbidden. That is why it was forbidden. Right—it may be that only an important thing that was in the Tabernacle is forbidden, no matter; but part of the reason it is forbidden is not only because it is important. Presence in the Tabernacle is not an indication that it is important; rather, presence in the Tabernacle is the cause of the prohibition. For that reason, what is forbidden to us is the things that were in the Tabernacle.

Notice, this is very important for understanding the nature of the prohibitions of the Sabbath. Because if I understand, in the simple conception—say, the first conception—that only importance determines things, then it is quite clear that what is forbidden on the Sabbath is creating. Anything that is significant creative activity is forbidden. Right? That is basically the claim. “Important” means significant creative activity. What? Wait, that is complete labor, which is what is written in the Torah, and therefore it is forbidden. But generally speaking, what is not written in the Torah—only something that is significant creative activity is what is forbidden. Then what comes out is that the prohibitions of the Sabbath are not thirty-nine prohibitions but one prohibition: the prohibition to create. There are simply thirty-nine ways of creating. If you want, thirty-eight without carrying. Okay? Different ways of creating. The prohibition is really to create. That is very plausible according to the first conception. Right—according to the first conception, where only importance determines things, what determines importance? Presence in the Tabernacle is irrelevant. What determines importance? The degree of creativity in that labor, right? You are basically saying that what is forbidden on the Sabbath is creating, only there are many ways to create. Okay? Then we get a definition that the prohibition on the Sabbath is the prohibition to create, and the primary categories of labor or their derivatives are different forms of creating. By contrast, if I go with Rabbi Chananel—with the Talmudic text on page 49, the first view there and so on—where the Tabernacle is the reason that forbids the labor, then there is room for a conception that says there are thirty-nine different prohibitions. There is no prohibition to create on the Sabbath. There are thirty-nine different prohibitions. Why are they forbidden? Because they were in the Tabernacle. Whatever was in the Tabernacle belongs only to weekdays and not to the Sabbath, for some reason. But when I say “what was in the Tabernacle,” I am not necessarily talking about the common dimension shared by all the things that were in the Tabernacle. Yes, obviously. But the labor that is forbidden is only the labor that was in the Tabernacle. So the indication of what counts as a forbidden labor is presence in the Tabernacle, not degree of creativity. Clearly, they are all actions done by human beings—yes, that is obvious. And that’s it, that’s… So “you shall do no labor” is attached to the Tabernacle, and according to the third view we learn that only the Tabernacle really determines things. So that means I cannot define it simply as a prohibition to create, as in the first view. What is this labor? What? What? Human actions, labors, fine. But that is exactly the point. There isn’t… well, I don’t see anything more, I don’t know. If someone has a suggestion, we’ll hear it.

So for our purposes, what this really means is that these two or three views that accompany us all the time now have another implication. The question is how I understand the relationship among the primary categories. Are the primary categories different applications of the same problem—that I create on the Sabbath—or are the primary categories simply thirty-nine prohibitions? They are all written under “you shall do no labor,” and then spelled out through interpretation. But essentially it is like thirty-nine different prohibitions. There is no common denominator among them. Look, for example, at page 138 in tractate Sabbath—wait, there is Tosafot Rid. Tosafot Rid discusses there the question in the Talmudic text about straining on the Sabbath, and the question is: under what warning do we warn him? Tosafot Rid writes there as follows: under what warning do we warn him? Explanation: since the warning went out for purposes of distinction, it is as though a separate prohibition were written for each and every labor. And it is like the prohibitions of forbidden fat and blood, which are distinct from one another. One must warn regarding forbidden fat because of forbidden fat, and regarding blood because of blood, and so too for each and every labor. In this Tosafot Rid you can see that, in his view, on the Sabbath there are thirty-nine prohibitions. It is not one prohibition to create, with thirty-nine ways of creating. It is like forbidden fat and blood—two entirely different prohibitions. Also, by the way, forbidden fat and blood are both eating prohibitions. So here too all the prohibitions are labor prohibitions. Fine, but they are different prohibitions; they have no shared essence. Therefore Tosafot Rid ultimately says that selecting and reaping are the same as eating forbidden fat and eating blood—two different prohibitions. Ah, but in the Torah it is written only in one verse, “you shall do no labor”? Right. And therefore too it is counted in the count of the commandments as only one prohibition, because for the count of the commandments it has to be written in the Torah. But interpretation reveals that the concept of labor here really breaks down into thirty-nine different prohibitions. By contrast, in Rashi in several places you can see that he learned differently. Look, for example—what? Right, that is why Tosafot Rid says it here. And that is exactly what the Talmudic text says here. Look at the Talmudic text on page 72b. Strange that Tosafot Rid does not cite it, because it is really written there explicitly like him. The master said—“the master said” means “as was taught”—the severity of the Sabbath over other commandments is that if one does two things in one lapse of awareness, one is liable for each one, unlike other commandments. On the Sabbath, if he performs two labors in one lapse of awareness, he is liable for two; not so for other commandments. What are the circumstances? asks the Talmudic text. If you say he did reaping and grinding, then the corresponding case in other commandments would be that he ate forbidden fat and blood—here he is liable for two and there he is liable for two. The Talmudic text asks: where do you find a difference between the Sabbath and other commandments? If he ate forbidden fat and blood in one lapse of awareness, he is liable for two, because those are two different prohibitions—just like reaping and grinding on the Sabbath in one lapse of awareness, where he is liable for two. It’s the same thing. Rather, says the Talmudic text, what case of “other commandments” is there where one is liable only once? A case where he ate forbidden fat and then forbidden fat. He ate forbidden fat twice in one lapse of awareness, so he is liable only once. The Talmudic text says this too does not work: the corresponding case on the Sabbath is where he did reaping and reaping; here he is liable once and there he is liable once. So where is there any difference between the Sabbath and the rest of the Torah? The Talmudic text answers: really, he did reaping and grinding, two different primary categories, and what does “unlike other commandments” refer to? Idolatry, according to Rabbi Ami. Fine. Regarding idolatry there is a different law there; not with all commandments. With all commandments it is indeed the same. What do we see in this Talmudic text? That it isn’t only the Sabbath—and therefore what? In relation to the discussion I had earlier. Right? The primary categories of labor are separate prohibitions, exactly like forbidden fat and blood. Seemingly, what Tosafot Rid says is written explicitly in the Talmudic text. Right? It says that performing two different labors in one lapse of awareness is the same as eating forbidden fat and blood in one lapse of awareness—two different prohibitions. Look what Rashi writes there. It is very strained, but the fact that he strains itself demands explanation. “Forbidden fat and blood,” says Rashi, “forbidden fat and blood are analogous to grinding and reaping, which are two bodies.” What does “two bodies” mean? Someone who had relations with two menstruants in one lapse of awareness. He didn’t know that relations with a menstruant are forbidden in the Torah; he had relations with two different women who were menstruants—how many… he is liable for two, even though it was one lapse of awareness and the same prohibition, the prohibition of intercourse with a menstruant in the same lapse of awareness. Why? Because the bodies create distinction. He committed this prohibition with respect to two different bodies; that is called division of bodies. Rashi tells us: forbidden fat and blood are like reaping and grinding—why? Because they are two bodies. What does he mean by two bodies? It is one prohibition, right, except that there is a division because they are two bodies. That means Rashi—what, what, one second, I’ll get there in a moment. Regarding forbidden fat and blood, I’m starting from grinding and reaping, not from forbidden fat and blood—there are two sides to this commandment in Rashi. Grinding and reaping, Rashi tells us, are two bodies. Why are they two bodies? Rashi understands that the Sabbath prohibition is one prohibition. It’s just that grinding and reaping nevertheless incur two liabilities, just as with two bodies one is liable for two even though it is one prohibition—so he learns unlike Tosafot Rid. And many later authorities (Acharonim) say this: that this Rashi—and there are more places, Rashi in Keritot and several other places—shows clearly that the primary categories of labor on the Sabbath are all different expressions of one prohibition, and the difference among them is that they are two bodies, not that they are two prohibitions. As for warning, I’m not going into that now; look afterward in the summary, because I no longer had time to get into it. But in the summary I discuss it. So in Rashi here it is apparently written against Tosafot Rid, and so too in other places, as the later authorities say. There is indeed a dispute here between Rashi and Tosafot Rid.

Now there is a correct observation here—Yair correctly pointed this out. Rashi makes a comparison: forbidden fat and blood are like grinding and reaping, and in both cases this is “two bodies.” What—are forbidden fat and blood also two bodies? Forbidden fat and blood are certainly two prohibitions, two different negative commandments. So how can you compare grinding and reaping, which are two bodies within one prohibition, to forbidden fat and blood, which are two different prohibitions? And the Talmudic text assumes it’s the same thing—here he is liable for two and there he is liable for two. So why are you making a distinction? That’s not right: here it’s two bodies of one prohibition, and there it’s two different prohibitions. So I thought that perhaps Rashi does not necessarily disagree with Tosafot Rid after all. Rather, Rashi may really be claiming that even two different Torah prohibitions—why are you liable for two? Because it’s like two bodies. Because according to Rashi—and we talked about this in Elul; I gave a series then on whether commandments require intention, I don’t know whether anyone here was present for that series—I spoke there about this conception that emerges from some of the medieval authorities (Rishonim), and I think from Rashi too if I remember correctly, that in the Torah there is only one commandment: to serve God. There are simply 613 commandments that He commanded, and in each of them I implement that obligation to serve God. Think, for example, about rabbinic prohibitions. According to Maimonides, for instance, rabbinic prohibitions come from “you shall not deviate.” So when I read the Megillah, or light Hanukkah candles, or do whatever rabbinic requirement it may be, I am in all of them fulfilling one commandment—or avoiding one prohibition—“you shall not deviate,” right? There are just many different implementations of “you shall not deviate.” Or another example I gave there, regarding a vow: there is a prohibition of a vow, “he shall not violate his word.” So if I vowed not to eat bread, then if I eat bread I violate “he shall not violate his word.” And if I vowed not to use this book, then if I use this book I violated “he shall not violate his word.” So are those two prohibitions? No. It is the same prohibition, “he shall not violate his word,” the prohibition of a vow. Each vow I make is a different vow, and the prohibitions are entirely different, so to speak—but it comes from the same command. Basically, I am violating the same command; these are just different ways of violating it. Rashi’s claim is that even with regard to the 613 commandments, all the commandments in the Torah are ultimately different forms of serving God. The only commandment in the Torah is to serve God, to obey His commandments. Now He has various commands, and each one is another mode in which I must serve God or obey His commandments. Therefore Rashi understands that forbidden fat and blood too are really divided bodies, not two prohibitions. They are two prohibitions in terms of the count of 613 commandments; they are obviously counted as two separate commandments. But on the essential level, why do you bring two liabilities even for two different commandments? Because it is like divided bodies, because ultimately it is all service of God. For example, consider a child captured among the gentiles. The Talmudic text says that a child captured among the gentiles brings one sin offering. There is a dispute of Amoraim there, but never mind—that view is the one that was accepted in practice. A child captured among the gentiles brings one sin offering. Why one sin offering? For what does he bring that sin offering? He committed all the prohibitions in the Torah, all 365 negative commandments he violated. In the end, for all his sin-offering liabilities, he brings one sin offering because it was one lapse of awareness. What was the lapse of awareness? That one must serve God—that is the lapse of awareness. There are different ways to serve God, but in the final analysis, at the core, it is one lapse of awareness. Okay. Therefore I want to claim the same thing here. Rashi really understands that the division between prohibitions is like division between bodies, and therefore he also treats forbidden fat and blood as two bodies. Even though there it is certainly two prohibitions. But if so, then there is no proof from this that he disagrees with Tosafot Rid. Because he is essentially claiming—just one moment—that also with reaping and grinding, when this is considered divided bodies, that is not because it is one prohibition with divided bodies. It is two prohibitions just as forbidden fat and blood are two prohibitions. It’s just that even when there are two prohibitions, that too is only divided bodies. So he does not necessarily disagree with Tosafot Rid, if that is so. This inference from Rashi is problematic. It is a good inference from what Rashi writes about grinding and reaping. But people forget that Rashi explains it in order to show that grinding and reaping are like forbidden fat and blood. In other words, he is saying this same thing about forbidden fat and blood too. About that as well he says: these are two bodies.

Now where is the practical difference? Look—here’s a question that troubled me a lot. I wandered around Bnei Brak to various Jews asking them this question and didn’t get an answer. Why is there no derivation by a common denominator from the primary categories of labor on the Sabbath? We derive derivatives from primary categories, right? In tort law too we derive derivatives from primary categories. In tort law there are derivatives of two primary categories, not of one. We derive them by a common denominator from two primary categories, right? Babylonian Talmud, Bava Kamma 6a, brings several examples there of things derived from the common denominator of two primary categories. In all rabbinic literature—as far as I know, and I also asked people more expert than I am—you will not find a derivative on the Sabbath derived from the common denominator of two primary categories. There is one example in Rav Menasheh of Ilya, maybe we’ll get to it sometime. A later authority, a disciple of the Vilna Gaon. He talks about spitting on the Sabbath. He claims it is derived by the common denominator of winnowing and throwing. But that’s it—the only example I know in all halakhic literature of deriving by common denominator from two primary categories of labor on the Sabbath. Now why? It’s very surprising. Why can every derivative be learned from a single primary category? Aren’t there derivatives for which there is some objection and you need support from an additional primary category in order to derive them? What? I don’t remember at the moment. But the question still is why. So that needs explanation. In impurity too. In impurity there can’t really be a common denominator, because there the derivative is not a learned derivative but a semantic one. So what? On the Sabbath you could make a common denominator?

[Speaker B] There’s a common denominator between this and that, and together…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—what do you mean no, no, no. The common denominator is the similarity between two modes of damage. So the same thing could be a similarity between two primary categories of labor on the Sabbath. What’s the difference?

[Speaker B] Yes, but you need a logical basis to say that this is a forbidden act.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, certainly you do, certainly you do. The common denominator there is formulated that way too. No, no, no—look in the Talmud on page 6, no. The Talmud on page 6 creates a common denominator and brings characteristics of a pit and characteristics of fire. It really looks at the… why are you liable? Because you construct it from a combination of pit and fire. But on the Sabbath too there is a principle: you violated a labor, and therefore you’re liable. No, the common denominator says that something…

[Speaker B] Completely novel. You, if you…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then leave that aside—then you don’t need two primary categories. Then you don’t need two primary categories. Then you don’t need anything. Then you’re liable because it’s your property. But you have to assume

[Speaker B] that it doesn’t follow on its own, so here you can say that on the Sabbath you were liable because it’s forbidden.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I—listen, I understood. But I’m answering you. That can’t be. Because if that were the case, then you wouldn’t have needed to learn it from the two primary categories. It would be enough that it’s your property and it caused damage—the common denominator at the beginning of tractate Bava Kamma: it is your property, its safeguarding is upon you, and when it causes damage, the damager is liable. It’s your property, it caused damage, you’re liable. Why do you need: it is similar to a pit, but not similar to a pit, so fire proves it; similar to fire, not… the common denominator? Oh, that is the Talmudic passage where they learn it from fire and from pit. No, regarding the exemptions that’s page 5. On page 6 that’s the well-known Brisker Rav. But on page 6 they learn the very liability itself, not the exemptions. It says so explicitly there in the Talmud. Fine, on page 6 there is a derivation there… okay.

[Speaker B] You’re trying to make it redundant, you’re trying to include all kinds of…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no, no—not on page 6. It brings a damaging case that is not written explicitly, and it learns it from two primary categories—not to make anything redundant. That’s the… you’re talking about the “it is not like” in the Mishnah. I’m talking about the Talmud on page 6. The Talmud on page 6 brings a secondary category. You can’t learn it from fire alone because there is a refutation, so they learn it from pit. You can’t learn it from pit alone; the common denominator teaches it. Why not on the Sabbath? I say: this is similar to selecting, this is similar to winnowing—the common denominator between them. I learn the secondary category. Look, I’ll tell you, we really need to finish already. I’ll tell you what I think the answer is. According to Rashi, the question never even begins, because there is no common denominator. What is the common denominator? The common denominator of the two labors is that both are creative, right? But according to Tosafot Rid, that’s not so, not according to Rashi. According to Tosafot Rid, these are simply different prohibitions. That’s all. What common denominator? You say—if you tell me I can construct reaping and some secondary category from reaping and sowing, okay? Reaping and sowing together. And then you tell me: this too is a significant creative act that is similar to sowing and reaping together. But if you say sowing and reaping are not two modes of creation, they are just two prohibitions, then if there is something that is not similar to sowing by itself and not similar to reaping by itself, then it cannot be forbidden. Learning from a common denominator is always when you assume there is something shared by the two source cases. But if these are two different prohibitions, then what common denominator is there? In damages, for everyone, it is your property and its safeguarding is upon you, so in the end, just as you said, there is ultimately a common denominator from which you can learn. But according to Tosafot Rid, on the Sabbath there is no such thing. According to Rashi, then seemingly there should be, but as I said earlier, I’m not even sure that Rashi disagrees with Tosafot Rid, and therefore it may really be that according to Rashi too this is the case. Fine, we’ll stop here because Mincha is already starting.