The General Principles of Melachot – Lesson 6

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[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s exactly what I’m saying is not the case. No. Only if he does it מתוך an understanding that the commandments of the Holy One, blessed be He, obligate him. And again, this is even according to the view that commandments do not require intention. I’m claiming that commandments require faith / belief. That’s something else. It’s not an intention that accompanies the act itself; rather, there has to be something in your world in which this is a commandment. Now, if you don’t have intention, fine. But if this whole thing isn’t in your world at all, if you aren’t obligated at all by the commandments of the Holy One, blessed be He, then this is not a commandment. No, so that’s… I haven’t said it yet. You know the continuation, but what I want to say is that the same thing Maimonides says about commandments, I claim also about transgressions. Now, I have my proofs; I’m not going into them here right now, but I’m bringing it up only to sharpen the point I was making here. What do I mean? I claim that a transgression committed by a person who doesn’t believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, is not a transgression either. Meaning, if I caused an atheist to violate the Sabbath prohibition, I didn’t violate any prohibition. He didn’t violate a prohibition, so I also didn’t violate “do not place a stumbling block.” There’s nothing there, nothing at all, nothing happened. Now, it’s not that he isn’t obligated in the commandments; every Jew is obligated in the commandments. But he is obligated and yet cannot carry out that obligation. Even if he observes those commandments, he has no commandment, and even if he violates prohibitions, he has no transgression. That’s the claim. No, that prohibition isn’t there either. Yes, that’s altogether… apparently according to all opinions, that prohibition too you do not violate if you don’t believe. The great difficulty on Maimonides, who counts this as positive commandment number one, is well known, but fine, you don’t build structures out of a difficulty. So in the end the claim is that there is some dimension of intention even in transgressions. Meaning, transgressions too are not only an action, if I’m right, yes, I’m not going into the proofs now. But transgressions too are not just an objective action. If you committed a transgression, then it’s a transgression—what difference does it make what you intended, or what your conscious or intentional context was? Right, so that joins what you said earlier, that there’s also unintentional and intentional violation. But with unintentional and intentional violation you could say that’s not connected to the question whether you committed a transgression; it’s connected to the question of punishment. There is a difference between unintentional and intentional regarding punishment, because you’re not as blameworthy—the person who sinned unintentionally isn’t as blameworthy as one who did so intentionally. I’m not talking on the plane of blame. I’m… it’s not a transgression. It’s not a transgression at all. That’s the point. These are not arguments about punishment; rather, there is an absence of transgression here. Okay? There isn’t a definition that… A person who knows that this obligates him—everyone can set the threshold for himself wherever he puts it. If from the standpoint of… there is a God who commanded at Sinai and that this obligates me. Maimonides writes explicitly that if you do it not because of the command at Sinai, then it also isn’t—it also isn’t a commandment, not even for the seven Noahide laws, not even for a resident alien. No, so it’s the same thing; Jews and gentiles are the same in this respect. The claim is—later authorities (Acharonim) say this too about Maimonides—that this need not be stated; it’s plain reasoning, you don’t need to say it. I would say even Maimonides himself by plain reasoning; I wouldn’t need him for it either. I mention him because he already said it—to say something in the name of the one who said it. So what I really want to say here is that if I’m right, then that means that a transgression too is not merely a technical matter. You violated a prohibition, so that’s a transgression—what difference does it make what you intended and what you thought and what obligates you? That’s not interesting. If you violated the prohibition, then it’s a transgression. That’s the accepted view; I agree. But I claim that this view is incorrect in the context of commandments requiring faith / belief, or transgressions requiring faith / belief. By contrast, regarding whether commandments require intention, then yes, it is correct. Transgressions do not require intention in the sense of intention to transgress; they require intention in the sense of the unintended act we’re talking about here. Okay, and then the question becomes sharper: why exactly? What’s the difference? Why do commandments require intention? So I say, there’s a Nachmanides on the Ten Commandments in the portion of Yitro. He asks there—parenthetically I’ll say—about “Remember” and “Observe” regarding the Sabbath, about the commandment of the Sabbath. So there he talks about the prohibition and the positive commandment on the Sabbath, and he talks there about the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment. And he says that there are sources in which the prohibition appears more severe, and there are places where the positive commandment appears more severe. A positive commandment overrides a prohibition, so the positive commandment is more severe. But for prohibitions one is punished and one expends all his money and so on, whereas for a positive commandment one is not punished, and even only up to a fifth—one does not spend all his money to fulfill a positive commandment. So there are aspects in which the prohibition is more severe and aspects in which the positive commandment is more severe. Why does the positive commandment override? Why? What are the rules and why? What’s the logic behind the rules? Did they draw lots? The Holy One, blessed be He, drew lots and said: let’s do this—if there’s a positive commandment against a prohibition, let’s flip a coin. If it comes up heads, then the positive commandment overrides, and if it comes up tails, then the prohibition overrides. There’s logic behind this, no? What’s the logic? Yes. Wait, we’re still in the middle of Nachmanides, so hold on. So what Nachmanides says there is that positive commandments are on a higher level than prohibitions, and therefore a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. So people ask there—the Sdei Chemed asks there—there’s a contradiction in Nachmanides. How can you say that in one respect the positive commandment is more severe and in another respect the prohibition is more severe, and then conclude from here that the positive commandment overrides the prohibition? So the Sdei Chemed claims that what Nachmanides means there is that on the side of fulfillment, the positive commandment is more severe—meaning, fulfilling it is on a higher level. When you fulfill a positive commandment, you are on a higher level than when you “fulfill” a prohibition. What does it mean to fulfill a prohibition? Not to violate the prohibition. By contrast, if you violate the prohibition, that is a more severe transgression than failing to fulfill a positive commandment. And that’s not contradictory; it’s two sides of the same coin. Precisely because the positive commandment is higher, if you fulfilled it then you are a greater righteous person. But if you did not fulfill it, that doesn’t mean you’re a wicked person. By contrast, if you violated a prohibition then you are wicked, not merely not-righteous. Therefore it’s not only that this isn’t a contradiction; it actually goes together. These are two sides of the coin: on the side of fulfillment the positive commandment is more important, and on the side of violation—the transgression—the prohibition is more severe. Now of course the question is, in every parameter you have to check what exactly is being tested here when I compare a positive commandment and a prohibition: the side of fulfillment or the side of transgression. So in this context it may be that we are speaking about the side of fulfillment, and then what happens? Positive commandments—in order to earn the title of righteous person, after all it’s not enough simply not to be wicked in order to earn the title of righteous person. You fulfilled a positive commandment; “righteous” means you have positive commandments to your credit, you rose to some spiritual level. For that you need intention, to do it for the sake of a commandment. You don’t earn that through technical action. By contrast, with a prohibition, maybe that’s what you meant earlier, maybe with a prohibition, when I refrain from a prohibition I haven’t risen to a level; I have merely made sure not to deteriorate, not to become wicked. But in order not to become wicked, you don’t need intentions—or the reverse, in order to become wicked, you don’t need intention, because you are not measured by the question of how righteous you are; you are measured by the question of what you did. And then maybe I can understand why the intention required in positive commandments is a higher kind of intention than the intention required in a prohibition. But again, I’ll say what I said to you earlier: even this itself I still need to understand why. Why really is a prohibition not like that while a positive commandment is? Maybe also with a prohibition? You know, I was once in Bnei Brak, I was in a barber shop there, and it said on the wall—I always quote this because I like it. It said: “Whoever is here should intend to fulfill five commandments.” Yes, the barbers of Bnei Brak. The casual talk of the barbers of Bnei Brak is finer than the Torah giants of any other city. What did he say? That one needs to intend to discharge five commandments. One of them is “On that day you shall give him his wages”—to pay him on time. “Do not keep overnight the wages of a hired laborer with you until morning.” “Do not round the corners of your head.” I don’t remember how many things there were. Now, do you need to intend not to violate prohibitions? If I didn’t violate a prohibition, then I didn’t violate a prohibition. I don’t need to intend. Intention is needed for commandments; you don’t need to intend not to commit transgressions. If I didn’t intend, in not doing the transgression, but I didn’t do it—does that mean I did do it? You understand? That’s the other side of the coin I’m talking about here. I’m speaking here about a case where I did commit the transgression but did not intend the transgression. He is speaking about a case where I didn’t commit the transgression but did not intend it as service of God, as refraining from doing a transgression. Okay, the question is whether transgressions have any intentional dimension at all, yes, any conscious dimension besides the practical aspect. All right, did you want to comment? I just wanted to say—at some point—to try to explain this.

[Speaker B] Maybe, what it seems to me is that Maimonides, regarding “On that day you shall give him his wages”… hold on a second, we’re in the middle. It seems to me the intention is that you have commandments where it really is a positive doing of good, where we assign importance to the act, whereas transgressions are really “turn from evil,” where the importance is only in refraining. Yes, fine. But no, I’m saying, that it’s not

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] only

[Speaker B] that it doesn’t assign importance to the act; rather, the command itself is refraining. It is always absence. There is never anything positive there.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, that too can be discussed, because there are transgressions that are positive action. There are transgressions that are violations through positive action. And there don’t tell me that it’s only absence. Fine, so in the end it’s the same formulation, yes. What about neglect of a positive commandment? So what? No, that’s exactly the asymmetry. If you heard the lecture when I explained Nachmanides’ view of a positive commandment overriding a prohibition, I explained it exactly through this. Because when you look at, say—Nachmanides concludes from this that a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. But when you do the accounting, it doesn’t come out. Because fulfilling a positive commandment is more severe than fulfilling a prohibition, and violating the prohibition is more severe than neglecting the positive commandment, right? Now when you discuss a positive commandment overriding a prohibition, you have two options: either to do the positive commandment at the price of violating the prohibition, or not to do either. Now apparently the first is a positive plus and a big minus—net zero. And the second is a small plus-minus, and therefore that too is still zero. So why does a positive commandment override a prohibition? It still remains balanced. The difference is this: if you neglect a positive commandment, you have a transgression—a light transgression, but it is a transgression of neglecting a positive commandment. If you do not violate a prohibition, you do not have a commandment. You merely did not stumble into a prohibition. That is not a small positive value; it is zero. From a halakhic standpoint, from a halakhic standpoint it has no weight at all. Refraining from a transgression is simply nothing. You remain neutral. You didn’t do the transgression. There’s what it says in the Talmud, never mind; I’m talking about a specific transgression, those are matters for ethics study. I’m speaking right now on the halakhic level. On the halakhic level, that is the situation. Something closer,

[Speaker B] as part of ethics study that is closer to Jewish law, there is what the Talmud says: if a person thought of committing a transgression and did not commit it, he does receive reward. Meaning, you were about to do some transgression and you stopped yourself. Fine, but on the halakhic level there is no difference at all. On the halakhic level, not doing a transgression is zero. There is nothing positive in it. It’s neutral. What? There is here not doing a transgression. What kind of a fortiori argument is that? The halakhic definition is that you do not have a commandment when you refrain from a prohibition. What’s the problem? It’s a simple halakhic fact; no one disputes it. When you neglect a positive commandment that is a transgression according to all opinions. Is that positive? There is no such commandment. Where is there such a commandment? That one can acknowledge, but when you don’t fulfill Maimonides’ fourth root, there is no such commandment. “And you shall do what is good and right”—no, “And you shall do what is good and right” refers to going beyond the letter of the law. And even that is not a commandment.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Again, that’s ethics study. Yes, so what does that have to do with Jewish law? In Jewish law there is no expression of that at all. To be the essence of Jewish law… For every specific commandment you cannot now say, I am not doing the transgression. Fine, so what is the halakhic meaning of that? These are nice homiletic sayings, fine. Ethics study is excellent, but what does it have to do with Jewish law? But what—does not doing a transgression have halakhic weight? Or is it a neutral thing? Halakhically—not philosophically, morally, whatever. No, there is nothing at all. Not doing a transgression is nothing; you simply did not do the transgression. You’re taking me back again to philosophical principles; it has no halakhic expression, it is not a halakhic statement. There is nothing in it; these are simply philosophical quips. That’s the previous claim I made, that commandments require faith / belief. Not connected—I’m talking about the intentions that accompany the action I’m doing. Yes, commandments require that you be, that you conduct yourself according to them. What does that mean? Halakhically, you’re giving me philosophical principles. What does it mean halakhically? It has no halakhic significance. Philosophical principles of one kind or another—so what? In the end, when it’s clear there is a clear asymmetry, you can’t deny it, these are halakhic facts agreed by everyone. There is a clear asymmetry: neglect of a positive commandment is a light transgression, and refraining from a prohibition is nothing. And “nothing” on the level of—did you perform a light commandment? No, you did not perform a light commandment; it is nothing. You can say philosophically, if you like. Philosophically, I also said earlier, it’s even written in the Talmud that if one thought to commit a transgression and did not do it, then yes, he receives reward for that. Fine, so there is reward. Good, but on the halakhic level that has no weight at all. Refraining from a transgression is simply remaining neutral. If he did—if he has reward, does he have a commandment? No—whether he has a commandment, not whether he has reward. Reward is the expression; commandment is the halakhic question. A positive commandment overriding a prohibition is not because of the reward—because reward is due me, therefore the positive commandment overrides the prohibition. I have a commandment; I did a commandment; I fulfilled a commandment. If I am fulfilling a commandment, then there is a rule that a positive commandment overrides a prohibition, right? That is a halakhic question. But if I am not fulfilling a commandment—true, I may get lots of reward for what I’m doing—but it is not a commandment, then it does not override a prohibition. These are halakhic definitions. I don’t know what this is—commandment and not positive commandments, a good deed, what? A moral matter? Wait, but that’s the discussion. What do you mean, that’s the discussion? That’s the question. Right—and the answer is no. What do you mean, no? There isn’t, there isn’t. Because… no, there is no source whatsoever. You can say wonderful philosophical innovations, but there is no source for this on the halakhic level: if you refrained from doing a prohibition, that is completely neutral. It has no halakhic weight at all, no halakhic weight at all. That is a fact; no one disputes it. You can say, fine, but conceptually it has value; after all, you submitted to the authority of the Holy One, blessed be He. What do you mean, that is the command? You’re saying to me therefore therefore it ought to have weight—but show it to me. Where is the consequence? Where? Where do you see that there is some kind of commandment in this? On the contrary: in the Nachmanides I brought you earlier, he assumes the opposite unequivocally. Otherwise a positive commandment would not override a prohibition. If refraining from a prohibition were a light positive commandment—were a light commandment—it wouldn’t matter; neglect of a positive commandment is also not a prohibition, but it is a light prohibition, and the other one is a light commandment. According to your view, this is symmetrical. If it’s symmetrical, then a positive commandment cannot override a prohibition. No—if there is something there, then it’s symmetrical. That’s the symmetry. And is there a positive commandment there? No, I didn’t say a positive commandment. Just as neglect of a positive commandment is not a prohibition. It is a light prohibition; it is not a prohibition. So fulfillment of a prohibition, you say, is a light commandment—not a positive commandment. It is a commandment of another kind, a light one. Okay, then even worse—then the prohibition should override the positive commandment. That’s much worse. What do you mean, no? So that’s exactly what Nachmanides explains there. You offered other suggestions, fine, they need to be heard, but there is no source of any kind. There is no halakhic basis for it; you don’t see it anywhere, that there is weight to refraining from a prohibition. With commandments, there are positive obligatory commandments and positive optional-fulfillment commandments. An optional-fulfillment commandment is one that if you fulfill it, you have a commandment, and if you don’t fulfill it, nothing happens. An obligatory positive commandment: if you fulfill it, you have a commandment; if you don’t fulfill it, you have a transgression—a transgression of neglecting a positive commandment. With prohibitions there is no such division. Right? With prohibitions there are no two types: one where if you violate it, you have a transgression, and if you do not violate it, nothing happened—that would be the optional prohibition. And another, the “obligatory prohibition,” where if you violate it, then you have a prohibition, and if you do not violate it, then you have a commandment. There are no prohibitions of the second type. There are prohibitions only of the first type. With positive commandments there are both types. What, like a prohibition repaired by a positive commandment? You didn’t fulfill the Passover commandment—what does that have to do with Passover? No, a prohibition repaired by a positive commandment is something else. There the positive commandment itself doesn’t turn the prohibition into a positive commandment. On the contrary, the Talmud has to say, “And what remains of it until the morning, you shall burn in fire.” No, no—there is a prohibition and there is a positive commandment; the prohibition stands on its own. On the contrary, it comes to contradict this. Why do you need to write the positive commandment? Because without the positive commandment, if there were only a prohibition, and you guarded yourself from the prohibition, you did nothing—it’s not a commandment. By the way, even in a prohibition repaired by a positive commandment you’re talking about something else entirely, because there we are speaking of correcting the prohibition—meaning burning what remained, not not leaving it over. The positive commandment is to burn what remained. Right, there are three types there in Maimonides’ ninth root. Fine, in any case let’s get back to our issue. So those are the two basic possibilities. One possibility is that this is a law specific to the Sabbath, and then the Ritva says one can learn from there to the whole Torah, but it’s not clear how. A possibility that solves this—but probably that is not the Ritva’s intention—is that there is one law on the Sabbath and another law in the whole Torah. And a third possibility is Rashba, who says that the law on the Sabbath and the law in the whole Torah are one and the same law. It has nothing to do with intentional labor; the Sabbath is simply one of the commandments of the Torah, and just as throughout the Torah there is an exemption for an unintended act, so too on the Sabbath there is that exemption. Now, I want now—that’s regarding the source. And there are no scriptural sources. Either it’s intentional labor, which is only on the Sabbath, or it’s some kind of reasoning, and then it applies to the whole Torah. Okay? Scriptural sources apparently there aren’t any. Rashba explicitly writes that there cannot be, but in any case we didn’t find any. There simply aren’t any; there’s no source from verses. So okay, that’s regarding the sources. Now let’s try to understand a little the ideas, the reasoning, the definitions. What is this concept of intention that we are talking about in the case of an unintended act? Something I mentioned—but if not, then I’ll mention it now. There are two principal ways to understand it.

[Speaker B] One possibility is that intention means knowing that this is what I’m doing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Being aware of what I’m doing—when I drag a bench, I need to be aware that in the process I am also making a furrow. If I’m not aware of that, that is called unintended. So this is awareness or knowledge. The second possibility is that it means desire—intention or purpose. What does that mean? That I’m dragging it for the sake of the furrow. Not a question of knowledge—I may know. But I did it—why did I do the action?

[Speaker B] I did the action in order to move the bench. I know that I am also making a furrow, but that is not why I did the action. So here the focus is

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] not the knowledge but the intention—that is, whether I intend

[Speaker B] in this action for the sake of moving the bench, or whether I intend—what my goal

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] is, what my motivation for doing the action is. Those are two possibilities for understanding the law of an unintended act.

[Speaker B] Is knowledge lacking, or is intention lacking?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Intention is confusing here because both are called intention in the language of Jewish law. But yes, the meaning is clear. Now, when I look at the qualification—and here the big picture is important—

[Speaker B] there is an inevitable outcome and there is “it is beneficial to him,” right? Those are the three levels.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] An inevitable outcome—so Rabbi Shimon agrees that in a case of inevitable outcome

[Speaker B] one is liable. Why? The obvious explanation is that if exactly—if unintended means that you don’t know, then in an inevitable outcome you do know, because it will certainly happen. You can’t say you didn’t know. Therefore Rabbi Shimon agrees in a case of inevitable outcome—”cut off its head and will it not die?” I didn’t understand. What does intention have to do with it? I intend to do such-and-such. Yes. In an inevitable outcome, something happened that I didn’t want and that wasn’t my intention. It happened anyway; that is always the case under discussion, that it did happen,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] otherwise there is no discussion. The question is whether it had to happen. When I drag a bench—look, maybe I’ll sharpen

[Speaker B] this, because it’s a point that confuses a bit. When I drag a bench, okay? On ground where it’s not certain that a furrow will be made, okay? When does the discussion arise? When it is made. The furrow was made. If the furrow was not made, there is no discussion. We are talking about a case where the furrow was indeed made.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is the difference between an inevitable outcome and not an inevitable outcome? The question is whether from the outset it was clear that it was going to happen. Fine, but the discussion always takes place when in the end the furrow was made, that’s obvious. Otherwise what is the discussion about? They want to obligate me for the furrow I made. Okay, the difference between an inevitable outcome and not an inevitable outcome is in the hypothetical question

[Speaker B] of what would have happened if. Yes? Counterfactuals, as they call them in philosophy. Meaning, what would have happened had I done such-and-such.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Would a furrow necessarily have been made, or could there have been a case—a hypothetical case—in which I dragged the bench and no furrow would be made? Okay? So in any case the furrow was made; the question is only whether it had to be made. Why is that relevant to the question of intention? It’s relevant to the question of knowledge. If you tell me that unintended means that I didn’t know this would happen, then in an inevitable outcome you can’t say you didn’t know—it’s obvious that it will happen.

[Speaker B] Okay? One can argue even about that. It could be an inevitable outcome, but I didn’t know. But let’s say someone looking at it from the side would say to me, could tell me: look, this is certainly going to happen.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I myself perhaps was not aware of it even though it was certain. Right, you don’t need to go that far; let’s talk here, not a distance of kilometers. So that’s what I just said. I just said that one could reject that dependence, because one could say: true, it’s certain that the furrow will be made, but if you ask whether I myself was actually aware of it—no, I was not

[Speaker B] aware of it. From the standpoint of the ground, the furrow was certainly going to be made.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Anyone looking at it with open eyes would see of course, yes? would see that the furrow would be made, but I didn’t notice, so I didn’t know. Wait, that already brings us back to a doubtful inevitable outcome; we’ll get to that later. Therefore I say there is room here to distinguish and say that even though an inevitable outcome creates liability, that still doesn’t mean that the problem

[Speaker B] is knowledge. Since an inevitable outcome does not necessarily solve the problem of knowledge. An inevitable outcome only says that perhaps you could have known, but that doesn’t mean you actually knew. Okay? Therefore—but in the simple understanding, and that is what several

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] later authorities (Acharonim) say—if you say that unintended is a problem of knowledge, then it is very clear why in an inevitable outcome Rabbi Shimon agrees. Because in an inevitable outcome you know. Okay? What about “it is beneficial to him”? Now let’s examine the whole move. So why does it need to be beneficial to him? According to the Arukh, say—yes, this is a dispute among medieval authorities (Rishonim)—but according to the Arukh, why does it need to be beneficial to him? After all, that isn’t obvious, because if I knew, what difference does it make whether it’s beneficial to me or not beneficial to me? Right? That’s not a simple question. But no—if you say that unintended really means intention, that this was my motivation, then I understand “it is beneficial to him” precisely; but then the inevitable outcome is not clear. Because then “it is beneficial to him” basically means that I did intend it, because after all it was good for me that it happened. Then the question is why you need the inevitable outcome. It should be enough that it’s beneficial. By contrast, if intention means knowledge—that’s really the point—if intention means knowledge, then I understand the inevitable outcome, since it solves the problem of unintended action, but why do we need the beneficial aspect? Fine. So each of the two interpretations—whether it is knowledge or motivation—requires explanation on a different plane. If it is knowledge, then the inevitable outcome is clear, but the beneficial aspect requires explanation. And if it is desire, motivation, then the beneficial aspect is clear, but the inevitable outcome requires explanation. Okay? Now, there are several proofs that this is not a matter of knowledge—that an inevitable outcome does not really solve the problem of unintended action. Why? There is Abaye in tractate Shabbat 133b. Abaye wants to exempt, according to Rabbi Shimon, even in a case of inevitable outcome. Then afterward they challenge him: but doesn’t Rabbi Shimon agree in a case of inevitable outcome—”cut off its head and will it not die”? Now, if an inevitable outcome simply makes you intentional, then this isn’t a question of Rabbi Shimon agreeing in an inevitable outcome. An inevitable outcome is intentional. What do you mean, “he agrees”? “Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome” means that even though it is not intentional, if it is an inevitable outcome Rabbi Shimon concedes. After all, if you tell me that not intentional means not knowing, and an inevitable outcome means that you are intentional, then what is there to say, that Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome? Obviously, Rabbi Shimon also agrees that if you intended it, you are a transgressor. Why do you need to tell me that? Again, if I say simply that inevitable outcome means I didn’t know—sorry, that unintended means I didn’t know—and the inevitable outcome only means that I do know, okay? Then suppose I dragged a bench on ground where it’s clear that a furrow will be made—that’s an inevitable outcome. So do we need to say that Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome—”cut off its head and will it not die”? It’s simply not unintended; it’s intentional. You know, so what’s the problem? “Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome” means that this is still a situation of unintended action, but if it is an inevitable outcome, Rabbi Shimon concedes. Right? But according to this understanding, an inevitable outcome is simply a case of intentional action; it’s not a qualification of the rule of unintended action. It’s the opposite of unintended action—it is simply intentional. So what, Rabbi Shimon agrees that in intentional cases there are transgressions in the Torah? That one can violate Torah prohibitions intentionally—Rabbi Shimon agrees? Seriously? How can one say such a thing? What? Yes. Listen. Where? Good. So what? How do you see there what I said? He explains the Talmudic text; he explains the text that Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome because there the exemption of unintended action does not apply. But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking from the wording. Not only from the wording—there in the Talmud it’s even clearer, because at first the Talmud wanted to make it depend on the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda, and afterward it asks against Abaye: but doesn’t Rabbi Shimon agree in an inevitable outcome? But earlier it was obvious to him that this was unintended and therefore Rabbi Shimon exempts. How is it obvious to you that this is unintended? In an inevitable outcome it’s intentional. You don’t need some additional halakhic principle that in an inevitable outcome Rabbi Shimon agrees. If you intended it, obviously Rabbi Shimon obligates. What’s the question? Okay. So what comes out as the conclusion there? Yes, so not from the Talmudic text. So you’re saying what I said earlier—that one can separate the two—but if you don’t separate them, if you say that inevitable outcome simply turns you into intentional, then you haven’t said anything. A second point: there is Ran in the chapter Gid HaNasheh in tractate Hullin. Ran writes that in prohibitions of benefit, an unintended act is exempt—or really permitted—even in a case of inevitable outcome. In prohibitions of benefit, then, even if it is an inevitable outcome, an unintended act is exempt. This is about wearers of garments—again the same example. Wearers of garments: the prohibition of deriving benefit from mixed fibers, the benefit of warmth from a garment of mixed fibers. Fine? Now regarding wearers of garments, sellers of garments—what? Yes, that’s what he asks. So he says: since in prohibitions of benefit, even in an inevitable outcome an unintended act is exempt. What about the sellers? That’s the sellers; that’s what we’re talking about. So now the question is, what does that mean? If an inevitable outcome turns you into intentional, then what difference does it make whether it’s a prohibition of benefit or not? What, you’re saying that in prohibitions of benefit there is an exemption even when you intend? Then when are they not exempt in prohibitions of benefit? Clearly from here—at least in Ran, and here this is not Talmud but Ran’s view, though there are other answers to the Talmudic text—what does it mean? No, then you’ve gone back—you are basically saying that an inevitable outcome does not turn you into intentional, or not completely. Fine, the same distinction we discussed earlier. No, in prohibitions of benefit there is some difference, but the distinction is the same one we said earlier: when there is an inevitable outcome, even if the problem in intention is that you don’t know, it still doesn’t mean that the inevitable outcome solves the problem, because it could be that you don’t know even though it is necessary. There is something more here—meaning that in an inevitable outcome one may be aware, aware, but if he is aware then he is intentional. What does “higher awareness” mean? What does “higher” mean? Either he knows or he doesn’t know. No, listen, it could be that in prohibitions of benefit one needs more than mere awareness—that being aware of something does not make you one who derives benefit from it. There is something else there. No, no—I’m asking, leave aside prohibitions of benefit, what does higher and not higher mean? Does he know or not know? What does “higher” mean? Either he knows or he doesn’t know. Unless you say, as we said earlier, that even though it is necessary that it happen, it is not certain that I am aware that it is necessary that it happen. But if that turns him into intentional, then in prohibitions of benefit when intentional you are certainly liable. It could be that this—so you’re telling me that an inevitable outcome in an unintended case is not the same as intentional. So you’re saying that an inevitable outcome in a non-intentional case does not turn you into intentional. Fine—but not intentional in the ordinary sense. Fine, so that’s like the distinction we said earlier. That this is not benefit and this is benefit doesn’t add anything; fine, it is not intentional in the ordinary sense, it is not fully intentional. Fine, so there is a difference between an inevitable outcome together with unintended action and fully intentional action—no matter how you formulate the difference, that’s the difference. In the end, therefore, there are several sources, and there are more proofs for this too, and it is quite simple. It is very hard to assume that the problem of inevitable outcome really solves the problem of knowledge, turning you into intentional—then it is simply intentional. “Rabbi Shimon agrees in an inevitable outcome” would then simply mean that it becomes intentional, that’s all; that is not what the dispute is about. That is not how the Talmud formulates it, that doesn’t seem to be the straightforward understanding. So if so, then fine—maybe we should go in the other direction, and indeed the problem is a problem of desire. What is your motivation, what is the goal, exactly. Why did you really do this action? Then notice: the whole order reverses. What does that mean? I’m basically saying that this is unintended because that is not why I did the action. When I dragged the bench I did it in order to move the bench from place to place, not in order to make the furrow. What is my purpose? Not what I know and what I’m aware of, but what is my purpose. Okay? Now here we said the inevitable outcome is not relevant, but the beneficial aspect is understandable. Meaning, the fact that once it is beneficial to me, then I will indeed be liable. Right? So you’ll ask me, then why do you need the inevitable outcome? Let there simply be benefit; once there is benefit, you’ve solved the problem. Maybe not, because benefit is something after the fact. After all, I didn’t do it for that reason. True, once it happened it is beneficial to me. Suppose I dragged the bench because I wanted to move it from place to place, okay? And I knew a furrow would be made, but that is not why I did it. No, no—but I knew; I’m now talking about a case where I did know. Maybe because it’s just some technical side effect, that isn’t called intention, since it wasn’t certain that it would happen. So what? But intention, we said… I tried to do something that wasn’t certain—maybe that’s not intention in Torah law at all? So same thing. So what you’re really saying is this: that benefit in principle doesn’t really solve the problem of unintended action—exactly like what I said about inevitable outcome in the knowledge-based version of unintended action. I’m saying the same thing about benefit in the desire-based version of unintended action. Even when there is benefit, that still doesn’t mean it counts as if you wanted it,

[Speaker F] because after all, that is not why you did the action. So what if it’s beneficial to you?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If it is an inevitable outcome, then the inevitable outcome is a condition. Meaning, if this benefit comes necessarily, then it can be considered as though this was really your motivation from the outset. But not that, in the simple sense, the moment it is beneficial to you, the unintended element is erased and you simply become intentional. No. That happens only on condition that this was an inevitable outcome. Only if it was certain from the outset that it would happen and you know that—meaning, and we know that after the fact, once it happens, it is beneficial to you—put those two things together and that is called that you intended it. Fine? Because after all, you knew it would happen, and it was certain that it would happen, and after it happens it is also beneficial to you. So don’t tell me that you didn’t do it for that reason. We’ll see later what “don’t tell me” means—that is already one particular formulation, not everyone agrees. There is a Tosafot somewhere—I’ll jump ahead so you can see the picture. Tosafot says, “we are witnesses”—there is a certainty as if witnessed that he intended it. He drags the bench in order to move the bench, not in order to make the

[Speaker B] furrow, but I know that on this kind of ground a furrow will certainly

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] be made—that’s an inevitable outcome—and I also know

[Speaker B] that it is beneficial to him that it was made

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A groove—he needs to plow this ground. So if I know those two things, then it is clear to us that he really did intend it. So when he dragged the bench, he really did intend it—don’t sell me stories that you didn’t intend it. That sounds, on the face of it, like a factual claim: you’re simply lying when you say you didn’t intend it, or weren’t aware of it, whatever; but in practice you did intend it. There’s another way to understand it: it’s not that it is clear to us, but rather that halakhically this counts as intention. Not that we’re telling you that psychologically you really intended it—that it’s a psychological claim—but that halakhically it is equivalent to intention. So according to this approach, the matter comes out more clearly. Basically it means this: if you say that intention is connected to motivation and not to knowledge or awareness, then what fundamentally obligates is the fact that it is satisfactory to you. If you’re pleased with it, then basically you wanted it. True, there’s a condition: only if this happens in a case of an inevitable result. Meaning, if it is not an inevitable result, then in practice you did it in order to move the bench, not in order to make a groove. True, you’re pleased if the groove is formed, but the fact that you’re pleased does not yet mean that that’s why you did it. But if it is an inevitable result—if the groove will definitely be made, and you’re also pleased that it was made—then we claim that you also intended it. Therefore what obligates is the satisfaction, and the condition is that it be an inevitable result. Without that, what obligates will not obligate. The order of the analysis is exactly the reverse. That’s why I said, when I presented this in the previous lecture, that usually people present it like this: there is a dispute about an unintended act; Rabbi Shimon concedes in a case of an inevitable result; but there is a condition that it be satisfactory to him. Right? Chronologically, that is certainly how it developed, because the dispute about an unintended act is a dispute among the Tannaim, Rabbi Shimon’s concession in a case of an inevitable result is Amoraic—Abaye and Rava, right?—and the requirement of satisfaction is from the Arukh, from the medieval authorities (Rishonim). So chronologically it works that way. But according to the perspective I’ve just given, chronology is not the essence. In essence the order is reversed. In essence we begin with an unintended act; if there is satisfaction, then Rabbi Shimon concedes, on condition that it be an inevitable result. Meaning, satisfaction is what obligates, not the inevitable result. Satisfaction has to be discussed first. There is a condition for obligating on the basis of satisfaction, namely that it be an inevitable result. So this direction—that we are dealing with purpose and not knowledge—can be understood. Satisfaction solves the problem; there is a condition that it be an inevitable result. The first direction still remains difficult for us. What is the first direction? That really this is about lack of knowledge or awareness. There the inevitable result, let’s say, solves the problem—so why do we need satisfaction? It could be that this is the view of those who disagree with the Arukh and say there is no difference whether it is satisfactory or not satisfactory—several medieval authorities (Rishonim). Those authorities would indeed learn it that way. But the Arukh will apparently learn in the second direction. Maybe that itself is the explanation of their dispute. Where would there be a practical difference regarding this? Yes, so if you go with the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who disagree with the Arukh, then there is a practical difference as to whether there is a distinction between satisfactory and not satisfactory. But I’m saying that even on the side of the Arukh there could be a difference. Because you are really discussing here the question whether the satisfaction is what obligates and the inevitable result is a condition, or whether the satisfaction is the condition and the inevitable result is what obligates. The inevitable result is what obligates and the satisfaction is the condition—that is really the difference in the question of how you understand intention, right? Now, it could be that the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot depends on this. Once again, it’s heating up. Shmuel Moshe, because of shortness of breath and hard labor—soon, don’t worry. Okay, so there is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot in Tractate Shabbat 75. “And when Rabbi Shimon concedes in a case of an inevitable result”—this is a quotation from Tosafot—“when does Rabbi Shimon concede in a case of an inevitable result? That is only in something that is satisfactory to him, if it happens to be a case where he needs the result itself; but in something he does not care about, he does not concede.” And Rashi explained that Rabbi Shimon’s concession in a case of an inevitable result applies even to something he does not care about, if it happens to be so. And that is incorrect. He brings proof from the Talmudic passage, because the Gemara says: one who gathers twigs in another person’s field—Rabbi Shimon exempts him, in the chapter “HaBoneh,” on 103a. There, someone gathers twigs in another person’s field, and that actually improves the field; it is a derivative of plowing. And if it is in another person’s field, then he is exempt. Now what does it mean that he is exempt? Because it is not satisfactory to him. What does that mean, not satisfactory to him? He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that the field is improved; it is not his interest, he doesn’t care. So there it is “he doesn’t care,” not “it is not satisfactory,” right? So we see that “he doesn’t care” is like “not satisfactory,” right? And Rashi says that “he doesn’t care” is like “satisfactory.” What is the difference between them? The difference between them is exactly, I think, at this point. If I need the satisfaction as what obligates, then it is very reasonable that we need actual satisfaction; “he doesn’t care” will not suffice to obligate. After all, you want this to be the purpose for which he is doing the act. If I don’t care, that is not the purpose for which I am doing it, right? So if satisfaction is what obligates and the inevitable result is only a condition, then obviously we need actual satisfaction; “he doesn’t care” will not suffice. But if the inevitable result is what obligates, and there is only a condition that it be satisfactory to him—because that does not fully restore him to the status of one who intended—if it is satisfactory, then it joins together, and therefore you will nevertheless be liable. It could be that what happens here is that if it is not satisfactory, that exempts you. The inevitable result solves the problem; the inevitable result obligates you. If it is not satisfactory to you, then despite the fact that it is an inevitable result, you are still exempt—perhaps because it is like a labor not needed for its own result, as some of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) say, but we’ll get to that later. But you are exempt. Here satisfaction serves the role of exemption, not obligation. In order for “not satisfactory” to exempt, it has to be really not satisfactory. “He doesn’t care” does not exempt; it is neutral. So if you need satisfaction in order to obligate, then “he doesn’t care” is not enough. But if you need there not to be “not satisfactory,” then “he doesn’t care” is also enough. Okay? And that will depend exactly on the question whether satisfaction obligates, or the inevitable result obligates and the lack of satisfaction exempts. Clear? So that could be the practical difference between Rashi and Tosafot. So in essence it comes out like this: we have two possibilities. One possibility is to say that the required intention is knowledge, and lack of intention is lack of knowledge. The inevitable result solves the problem of knowledge, making you almost like someone who intended. According to those who disagree with the Arukh, it makes you fully into someone who intended, not almost intended—simply someone who intended. According to the Arukh, it makes you almost intended, but only so long as it is satisfactory. If it is not satisfactory, then there is a condition that it be satisfactory, because if it is not satisfactory, then you cannot say that you intended it—you did not really do it for that. Okay? That is the direction of knowledge. There is the direction of motivation: an unintended act means that this was not the motivation for which you are doing the action. Here what obligates is the satisfaction: if it is satisfactory to you, then you did indeed do it, provided that it is an inevitable result. Meaning, the inevitable result is the condition that allows the satisfaction to obligate you. There is a third possibility: maybe, in intention… you need both things; you need both knowledge and desire. What is the idea behind that? Very simple. If you want an agent—someone acting out of deliberation and decision and so on—it is entirely reasonable that both components define your being an agent. First, you have to understand that these will be the results, and second, you have to do the action in order to achieve those results. Those are two cumulative conditions. Yes, exactly. I don’t know whether there is no desire; rather, there is no action without both desire and knowledge. Maybe I would formulate it this way: you need both desire and knowledge. So then what? Then it comes out that the inevitable result solves the problem of knowledge, and the satisfaction solves the problem of desire. That is a third formulation. There is no order here. Before, I said there is an order: there is an unintended act, and now either it is an inevitable result on condition that it is satisfactory, or satisfaction on condition that it is an inevitable result. Right? Now I’m saying no, there is no hierarchy between them. There is an unintended act, which means lack of desire and lack of knowledge. If one of them is missing, you are exempt, because you need both desire and knowledge in order to be liable. So if there is both an inevitable result and satisfaction, then you are liable. If one of them is missing, then you are exempt. There is no hierarchy between them; neither is a condition for the other. Both are required. That’s what he is innovating. What do you mean? That’s what he is innovating: you need both things. Right. If satisfaction is what obligates, then it is very reasonable that it must be actual satisfaction and not merely “I don’t care.” What is that called? Meaning that an inevitable result? If it is not an inevitable result, then indeed it will not be liable. An unintended act without an inevitable result is not liable. But I’m asking: was there an inevitable result in that case? There wasn’t. So he is exempt in any case. You want to bring me a case? I have many such cases. I didn’t understand. Or if it is an inevitable result. If you say that desire is the intention, that is one of the first two possibilities. If you say that desire is the intention, then certainly. Well? I’m trying, for example, to kill a fly on the Sabbath, across the room. I’m trying in a way where it is very unlikely to be an inevitable result. I don’t know that he will succeed in doing it, but he certainly does want it, so he’ll certainly be liable. Why certainly liable? You are already assuming the premise that intention means desire. That is exactly the first option. Fine, but that is not what we are discussing in this case. Now you can decide what to say about it, but I don’t see the proof, the necessity. What you are really saying is that you are basically assuming that intention means desire. But if on the Sabbath I did something that I intended, that I wanted, and here there is only desire, there is no knowledge, because I did not intend this thing—I did not intend that in his intending that thing, this thing would also happen. You have not found an exemption in that case. What do you mean, I have not found an exemption? That will depend on the various understandings. I don’t understand where you are drawing that assumption from. It will depend on the various understandings. Okay. Yes, yes. Now here I want to move on and argue that this distinction between the two kinds—the two interpretations of the law of intention—is connected to that same distinction we made above between an unintended act in the rest of the Torah and an unintended act on the Sabbath. And here Rabbi Chaim enters the picture. When Rabbi Chaim—there is also Rabbi Kotler in Mishnat Rabbi Aharon, and several later authorities (Acharonim) follow him—this is a very famous Rabbi Chaim, in chapter 10, law 17, in the laws of Sabbath. And there he basically says this: first, he says what Tosafot and the first approach in the Ritva that we saw say—that there is an unintended act in the rest of the Torah. That is because of the law of deliberate labor. The practical difference is that according to Rabbi Yehuda, on the Sabbath there would not be a Torah prohibition, only a rabbinic prohibition. Because there is that exemption of deliberate labor, and Rabbi Yehuda does not disagree with that. Rabbi Yehuda disagrees with Rabbi Shimon only on the law of an unintended act, but the exemption of deliberate labor, which is a unique exemption in the laws of Sabbath, Rabbi Yehuda also agrees with that. And therefore he says there is a rabbinic prohibition here. So we already saw that in the medieval authorities (Rishonim). What? No, what do you mean? I didn’t understand. An unintended act on the Sabbath? No, an unintended act on the Sabbath is permitted—that’s Rabbi Shimon. I’m speaking according to Rabbi Yehuda’s view. Nobody rules like Rabbi Yehuda. So the claim is, first of all, that there is a difference between an unintended act in the rest of the Torah and an unintended act on the Sabbath. But beyond that—we already found this in the medieval authorities (Rishonim)—what Rabbi Chaim claims is that the unintended act in the rest of the Torah and the unintended act on the Sabbath are divided between them according to the two interpretations I presented here. An unintended act on the Sabbath is about knowledge, and an unintended act in the rest of the Torah is about desire. Meaning, the two possibilities of intention that I presented here are both true. One applies to the Sabbath, and one applies to the rest of the Torah. “And it would seem to say that this—that an unintended act is prohibited only rabbinically in the case of the Sabbath according to everyone”—“everyone” here means all the Tannaim, not all the medieval authorities (Rishonim); not all the medieval authorities agree with this—but according to those medieval authorities who say that according to all the Tannaim on the Sabbath it is at most a rabbinic prohibition, even according to Rabbi Yehuda, as explained in Tosafot on Yoma and in several other places, the reason is because regarding the Sabbath it is written ‘deliberate labor,’ and when it is unintended, it is not deliberate labor. But the main dispute about an unintended act in the rest of the Torah—whether it is permitted or forbidden—is really a Torah law issue. And the one who forbids an unintended act holds that it is forbidden by Torah law, not rabbinically; only on the Sabbath is it rabbinic. And as is explicitly explained in Shabbat 133 regarding cutting off a skin discoloration, according to the one who says that an unintended act is forbidden, it is forbidden by Torah law. And since the Talmudic passage bases it on a verse—look there in the sugya; we saw that they bring a verse for it—then clearly the prohibition under discussion there in Rabbi Yehuda is a Torah prohibition, not a rabbinic prohibition. It’s just that there, in the case of cutting off a skin discoloration, it is a Torah prohibition in the laws of cutting off a skin discoloration, not in the laws of Sabbath. So that is what Rabbi Chaim says: even the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who say that according to Rabbi Yehuda there is only a rabbinic prohibition in an unintended act, that is only in the laws of Sabbath. But in the rest of the Torah they too would agree that it is a Torah prohibition. Therefore he says: “And since it is based on a verse, except that regarding the Sabbath its prohibition is only rabbinic for another reason, because it is not deliberate labor—these are two distinct laws: the law of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah, and the law of deliberate labor on the Sabbath.” Up to this point we already saw it in the medieval authorities (Rishonim); it is not his innovation. What Rabbi Chaim claims is that these two laws differ from one another in their fundamental basis. In the law of an unintended act, the main issue depends on his intention and desire; and even if he knows for certain that the act will occur, and he does the act knowingly, nevertheless it depends on his intention—whether he intends that or not. Meaning, an unintended act in the rest of the Torah is not unintended in the sense of knowledge, but unintended in the sense of purpose or desire, of motivation. As is explicitly explained in Pesachim 25: “It was stated: benefit that comes to a person against his will—Abaye says it is permitted, Rava says it is forbidden. When do they disagree? When it cannot be avoided and he intends it; and according to Rabbi Shimon, who follows intention, everyone agrees that it is forbidden.” So you see that even though he certainly knows that the benefit is coming to him—there the case is one where he certainly knows—nevertheless, if he intends it, it is forbidden, and if he does not intend it, it is permitted. And there we are dealing with the rest of the Torah, not the Sabbath. So an unintended act in the rest of the Torah does not depend on knowledge; it depends on desire. And look at Tosafot there, who wrote that this case of smell is not an inevitable result. But the Ran in the chapter Gid HaNasheh disagrees with that, and holds that the prohibition of benefit is different, and is considered an unintended act even in a case of an inevitable result. This is the Ran that I brought earlier in the chapter Gid HaNasheh—that this is an unintended act in a case of an inevitable result. And this is also the view of Maimonides in chapter 14 of the laws of forbidden foods, who rules simply that benefit that comes to a person against his will, where he does not intend it, is permitted. And from the fact that he states it simply, it follows that even in a case of an inevitable result it is permitted. However, even though the prohibition of benefit is different, nevertheless since the Gemara makes it depend on the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon about an unintended act—even though according to the Ran the prohibition of benefit is unique—then why do they connect it to the general dispute of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda? In any event, in the law of an unintended act the matter depends on whether it is satisfactory to him and on his intention, and so on. What does “intention” mean there? It means desire; what solves the problem is the satisfaction, not the inevitable result. If the problem is knowledge, then what solves the problem is the inevitable result. Whereas in the law of deliberate labor, its foundation does not depend at all on intention and desire, but rather on the knowledge with which he does the labor. And this is the whole basis of the law of deliberate labor: that he perform the labor knowingly and deliberately. As we find in Keritot 19, that one who acts unawares on the Sabbath is exempt because the Torah forbade only deliberate labor. And in Bava Kamma: if a stone was lying in his lap and he stood up and it fell—for the purpose of the Sabbath he is exempt; the Torah forbade only deliberate labor. In all of those cases, the labor was not done with his awareness at all. That is because this is the main meaning of deliberate labor: that the labor be done with thought and awareness. So on the Sabbath, in the law of deliberate labor, what determines intention is awareness. In the rest of the Torah, what determines thought, what determines intention, is desire or motivation. And if so, here too, where it is an unintended act and it is not considered deliberate labor, the essence of the law is also because the labor was not done with his awareness at all—not because we require his intention, that he direct himself to it. Okay? So that is what he says—that this is the difference between an unintended act in the rest of the Torah and an unintended act on the Sabbath. “And according to this, it would seem that in the case of an inevitable result, where the Gemara explains that Rabbi Shimon concedes and makes him liable, the Arukh’s opinion—that this is only where it is satisfactory to him—creates a difference here between the law of deliberate labor and the law of an unintended act. In the law of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah, whose essence is that it be his desire and intention, there it depends on whether it is satisfactory to him. There what the Arukh says matters—whether it is satisfactory to him or not. And if not, then even though it is an inevitable result and the forbidden act will certainly be done, still, so long as it is not satisfactory to him, is he considered to have intended it? In the unintended act of the rest of the Torah, what is the problem? The problem is desire, not knowledge. Right? So there, if it were an inevitable result, that would not help, because he still did not do it for the sake of the groove. So what if the groove will definitely be made? Only if there is satisfaction will he be liable. The inevitable result alone will not help. Right? “Still, so long as it is not satisfactory to him, is he considered to have intended it? And it remains within the category of an unintended act, which is permitted. But in the law of deliberate labor, where we do not require his desire or intention at all, only that the labor be done with his awareness and thought—then its law does not depend at all on whether it is satisfactory to him. Rather, wherever it is an inevitable result, and the labor is known to him to be necessarily going to occur, this is called that the labor was done with his awareness, and it falls under the category of deliberate labor.” And according to this, it follows that in an unintended act involving an inevitable result that is not satisfactory to him, according to the Arukh even on the Sabbath the law would be like the rest of the Torah, namely that he would be liable. Because on the Sabbath, if there is awareness, then you are liable under the laws of Sabbath, and Rabbi Shimon does not accept the law of the unintended act of the rest of the Torah. Clear? “And according to Rabbi Yehuda, who holds that an unintended act is forbidden by Torah law in the whole Torah, then on the Sabbath too it is forbidden and one is liable for it, since it falls under deliberate labor and only the law of unintended act applies to it.” Clear? If the person says that it is satisfactory to him, then from the perspective of the laws of Sabbath—sorry—if it is an inevitable result, then from the perspective of the laws of Sabbath

[Speaker B] there is awareness here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All that remains is just the question of an unintended act; if there is satisfaction, then he intended it. Clear? Therefore he basically says this: let’s say—what would happen according to his view if it were an inevitable result in the rest of the Torah? Why do we need it to be an inevitable result? Why is satisfaction not enough? After all, in the rest of the Torah what you need is not deliberate labor; what you need is only desire, and if there is satisfaction, then that is what I want. Why does it have to be an inevitable result? Satisfaction should be enough. So apparently it is what I said earlier: that the inevitable result is a condition, and satisfaction does not really turn you into someone who intended it, because after all you did not really do it for the sake of the groove. Right? In terms of intention, you did not do it for the groove. But you are pleased by it. The satisfaction does not compensate for the fact that you did not intend it unless it is an inevitable result. The inevitable result is a condition. Okay? In the laws of Sabbath, the whole issue is awareness—sorry—so there satisfaction is irrelevant; only the inevitable result matters. Seemingly, according to this, it comes out that the entire innovation of the Arukh was said about the rest of the Torah, not about the Sabbath. But of course all the laws that exist in the rest of the Torah also exist on the Sabbath; they just exist on the Sabbath not because of the law of deliberate labor, but because of the law of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah. So satisfaction is relevant on the Sabbath too, but not because of the laws of Sabbath, rather because of the laws of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah. Yes, and therefore, for example, according to Rabbi Yehuda, what would the law be? Rabbi Yehuda, after all, does not accept the law of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah; he accepts only the unintended act of the Sabbath, the law of deliberate labor, right? What would Rabbi Yehuda say about an unintended act involving an inevitable result that is not satisfactory to him? If it is intentional, then according to Rabbi Yehuda it is a rabbinic prohibition because he accepts deliberate labor. Not correct. According to Rabbi Yehuda, in a case of an inevitable result that is not satisfactory to him, he would still be liable even on the Sabbath, because in the law of unintended act, an inevitable result that is not satisfactory is liable according to Rabbi Yehuda—because Rabbi Yehuda does not accept the exemption of an unintended act. And Rabbi Yehuda does accept deliberate labor, after all; and from the perspective of the laws of deliberate labor, the question of intention is irrelevant—what matters is only awareness. So if it is an inevitable result, then there is awareness here. And the satisfaction is relevant only because of the law of unintended act in the rest of the Torah—but that Rabbi Yehuda does not accept. So here is the practical difference: according to Rabbi Yehuda on the Sabbath, even the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who say that in an unintended act on the Sabbath, according to Rabbi Yehuda, it is only a rabbinic prohibition, will agree that according to Rabbi Yehuda in a case of an inevitable result that is not satisfactory to him, it is a Torah prohibition. Not a rabbinic prohibition, because an inevitable result that is not satisfactory is discussed only on the plane of an unintended act in the rest of the Torah. It does not belong to deliberate labor, because from the standpoint of deliberate labor, once it is an inevitable result, you have solved the problem of deliberate labor. Clear? So basically, for our purposes, I’m just summarizing: what Rabbi Chaim innovated here is that he connects the distinction we made between Sabbath deliberate labor and an unintended act in the rest of the Torah, to the distinction we made between two ways of understanding intention. Is intention knowledge, or is intention desire? So he says that on the Sabbath intention means knowledge, and in the rest of the Torah intention means desire. That’s it. Okay, thank you very much.