The Rules of Melachot – Lesson 10

Table of Contents

• Three approaches to defining a labor “needed for its own sake”
• Rashi and digging a pit: two outcomes versus a labor of removal
• A labor of removal in Rashi as an extension, not an exclusive definition
• Methodological analogies: money and merchandise, and deception of the mind
• A labor not needed for its own sake versus an inevitable result: the approach of Arukh HaShulchan in the name of Tosafot
• Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides and Arukh HaShulchan’s explanation
• One action or two actions: digging a pit, dragging a bench, and cutting off a chicken’s head
• Intentional labor versus “what was done in the Tabernacle”: Rashi and Tosafot in Chagigah
• The Mishnah about extinguishing a lamp and the position attributed to Rabbi Yosei
• Tosafot against Rashi: “if he wanted, it would not have come about” and every labor
• An opening fit for bringing in and taking out: a person’s intention versus the significance of the labor
• A labor not needed for its own sake and destructive action: Sabbath 93 and Sabbath 106
• The meaning of a labor of removal: preventing damage versus improving a situation

Summary

General Overview

The text clarifies the definition of a labor not needed for its own sake through three main approaches—Rashi, Tosafot, and Arukh HaShulchan—and suggests that according to Rashi there are two kinds of cases: one in which there are two tangible outcomes to which the doer’s intention can be attributed, and one involving a labor of removal, where there is no tangible positive result but only prevention of damage. The text sharpens the question of what distinguishes a labor not needed for its own sake from a case of lack of intention with an inevitable result, and presents two explanations: the way of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who follow the author of the Arukh, tying it to the question of whether the result is desirable to him, and the way of Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides as explained by Arukh HaShulchan, which ties it to the difference between intending the purpose of the labor and lacking intention for the act of labor itself. It then connects the root of the dispute to the question whether the exemption for a labor not needed for its own sake comes from the laws of intentional labor—as seems implied by Rashi—or from the principle that labors are measured by what was done in the Tabernacle, as Tosafot maintain, and shows how this affects destructive action, wounding and kindling, and the meaning of “if he wanted, it would not have come about” as an idea of preventing damage rather than merely fixing a deficient state.

Three approaches to defining “needed for its own sake”

Rashi defines a labor not needed for its own sake as a labor of removal, meaning an action done in order to remove a problem or prevent damage, and not in order to achieve the purpose of the labor itself, like trapping a snake so it will not cause harm. Tosafot disagree and define it by “what was done in the Tabernacle,” so that a labor needed for its own sake is an action done for the same need for which it was done in the Tabernacle, while any other purpose is considered not needed for its own sake. Arukh HaShulchan presents an understanding according to which what determines the matter is the ordinary purpose of the action in the world, and if it is done for some other purpose, then it is not needed for its own sake.

Rashi and digging a pit: two outcomes versus a labor of removal

The text points out that “one who digs a pit and needs only its earth” is the canonical Talmudic example of a labor not needed for its own sake, even though it does not look like a labor of removal, because the person is not removing a problem but wants the earth. The text suggests that according to Rashi there are two kinds of cases: in a situation with two tangible outcomes after the act, one can say that the intention is directed toward one result and not the other, and therefore the digging is for the sake of the earth and not for the sake of the pit. In a labor of removal there is only one existing result, such as the absence of fire when one extinguishes, and the alternative result is only what would have happened had he not acted, so one cannot point to another actual “result” to explain an alternative intention.

A labor of removal in Rashi as an extension, not an exclusive definition

The text argues that Rashi does not necessarily define the very concept of a labor not needed for its own sake as a labor of removal, but uses the concept of removal to explain why even in cases where there are not two tangible outcomes there is still an exemption of not needed for its own sake. The text attributes to Rashi a basic principle similar to that of Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides: one action done for a purpose that is not the ordinary purpose of the prohibited labor, except that when it is impossible to attribute the act to another actual result, a labor of removal fills that role.

Methodological analogies: money and merchandise, and deception of the mind

The text brings an example from the chapter HaZahav in Bava Metzia and explains that the Talmudic discussion of sharpness and importance does not define what money is at the most basic level, but rather gives a criterion for cases in which both sides are money by objective definition. The text also brings an example from Chullin about deception of the mind, and argues that when Rashi explains it there as “taking someone’s gratitude for free,” he is not defining the entire concept of deception of the mind as gratitude, but describing a particular case of the general principle of taking information or awareness that one is not entitled to. The text uses these examples to warn against reading Rashi’s comments as all-inclusive definitions when they come to solve a local difficulty.

A labor not needed for its own sake versus an inevitable result: the approach of Arukh HaShulchan in the name of Tosafot

Arukh HaShulchan cites the difficulty: if in a case of an inevitable result one did not intend it, then apparently he also does not need its outcome, and so it should be considered a labor not needed for its own sake. He brings in the name of Tosafot that in a case of an inevitable result where it is obvious to us that the outcome is desirable to him, the doer is liable and this is considered intentional; whereas when it is not desirable to him, it is considered a labor not needed for its own sake. The text notes the view of the author of the Arukh himself, who holds that an inevitable result that is not desirable to him is completely permitted and reverts to the law of lack of intention, and explains that the identification with a labor not needed for its own sake fits better with those medieval authorities (Rishonim) who were stricter and prohibited it rabbinically.

Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides and Arukh HaShulchan’s explanation

Arukh HaShulchan brings a responsum of Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides in the name of Maimonides: in a case of an inevitable result, one does not intend the labor at all; rather, the labor necessarily happens, whereas in a labor not needed for its own sake, he intends the act of labor but not its purpose. Arukh HaShulchan compares this to the laws of commandments that require intention, and rules that just as in commandments an opposite intention prevents fulfillment of the obligation, so too on the Sabbath, when one intends a different purpose, one cannot say that the inevitable result turns him into someone who intends the very body of the prohibition. He applies this by saying that when trapping a deer through closing a door, one does not intend trapping at all, and when cutting off a bird’s head for a child to play with, one does not intend killing at all; whereas when digging a pit, one intends the digging for the sake of the earth.

One action or two actions: digging a pit, dragging a bench, and cutting off a chicken’s head

The text suggests an understanding that Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides distinguishes between one action that has two results and a situation that appears like two different halakhic actions performed in parallel, such as dragging a bench, which also causes both moving the bench and plowing. The text raises the difficulty that the classic case of an inevitable result—cutting off the chicken’s head—looks physically like one action, and so perhaps it should have been viewed as a labor not needed for its own sake rather than as an inevitable result. It suggests that even there one can see two halakhic actions: taking the head and killing, even though they are done in one physical act, and the precise criterion for the distinction remains complex.

Intentional labor versus “what was done in the Tabernacle”: Rashi and Tosafot in Chagigah

The text cites the Talmud in Chagigah, which classifies among the “mountains hanging by a hair” the exemption of one who digs a pit and needs only its earth, and brings the rule: “The Torah prohibited intentional labor.” It presents the difficulty this creates for Tosafot, who say that a labor not needed for its own sake stems from “what was done in the Tabernacle” and not from the category of intentional labor. The text suggests possible ways to reconcile Tosafot, especially by understanding that the Talmud’s mention of intentional labor may refer to the exemption for destructive action according to Rabbi Yehudah, and not to the exemption for a labor not needed for its own sake according to Rabbi Shimon.

The Mishnah about extinguishing a lamp and the position attributed to Rabbi Yosei

The text brings the Mishnah in Sabbath about one who extinguishes a lamp because of fear or so that a sick person may sleep, who is exempt, as opposed to extinguishing because he wants to spare the lamp, the oil, or the wick, where he is liable; and it cites Rabbi Yosei, who exempts in all of them except for the wick, “because he makes charcoal.” It presents the two ways the Talmud explains Rabbi Yosei: one explanation aligns Rabbi Yosei with Rabbi Yehudah through the law of demolishing in order to rebuild in the same place, while Rabbi Yochanan explains him as following Rabbi Shimon and says that the liability for the wick is because of repairing an implement in the wick, which needs to be singed. The text notes that Rashi explains sparing the wick as a labor of removal, where he would have preferred that there be no fire at all.

Tosafot against Rashi: “if he wanted, it would not have come about” and every labor

Tosafot reject Rashi’s explanation that a labor not needed for its own sake means a situation in which, if he had wanted, the thing would not have existed in the world, and argue that if so, then demolishing in order to rebuild in the same place and tearing in order to sew should also have been exempt. Tosafot define the matter as someone who does not need the core root of the prohibition, and they identify “its own sake” with the need found in the Tabernacle—for example, the Tabernacle needed extinguishing for the sake of coals, or trapping for the sake of tachash skins and the chilazon. The text explains that according to Tosafot there is no deficiency here in intentional labor; rather, it is a historical-halakhic test of resemblance to the Tabernacle, and it asks how this approach fits with the concept of derivative labors if it would have been enough simply to say that it resembles a primary category.

An opening fit for bringing in and taking out: a person’s intention versus the significance of the labor

The text presents a practical difference between Rashi and Tosafot in the case of making an opening through an action like lancing an abscess: according to Rashi, the evaluation is of the labor itself, and if a significant opening was created, fit for bringing in and taking out, there is no room for exemption because of the significance of the act. According to Tosafot, the focus of the definition is the purpose for which the act was done in relation to the Tabernacle, and therefore even an opening fit for bringing in and taking out can be exempt if it was not made for the Tabernacle’s purpose.

A labor not needed for its own sake and destructive action: Sabbath 93 and Sabbath 106

The text cites the Mishnah in Sabbath 93 about carrying out a corpse, where Rabbi Shimon exempts, and Rashi defines this as a labor not needed for its own sake because it is done to remove it from him and therefore is not intentional labor. It continues to the passage in Sabbath 106 about “all destructive acts are exempt,” along with wounding and kindling, and brings Rashi, who identifies Rabbi Yehudah there with the view that imposes liability for a labor not needed for its own sake. It explains that according to Rashi, repair in some other respect counts as repair for Rabbi Yehudah and is therefore not destructive action, whereas according to Rabbi Shimon, repair in some other respect counts as a labor not needed for its own sake, and therefore there is no case of wounding and kindling that is not destructive; their liability is learned from special verses.

The meaning of a labor of removal: preventing damage versus improving a situation

The text suggests a clarification for resolving Tosafot’s question against Rashi: a labor of removal is not every repair of a deficient state, but prevention of damage or of a threat that is worsening the current condition, as in the case of driving away a lion in Nedarim and the law of paying someone’s debt as part of removing harm. It formulates the point by saying that an ordinary labor improves an existing situation, whereas a labor not needed for its own sake according to Rashi is an act that merely prevents loss. It concludes by citing Meiri, who distinguishes that when one presently needs to sew or to perform some corrective action, this is not considered a labor of removal, and the text explains this as emphasizing that Rashi’s focus is on removing damage and not simply on the fact that “if he wanted, it would not have come about.”

Okay, last time we started talking about a labor that is not needed for its own sake. And we saw in the Arukh HaShulchan, we saw that basically, you could say there are three approaches to defining what “for its own sake” means. Meaning, what counts as for its own sake and what counts as not for its own sake. Rashi’s approach is: anything that is not a labor of removal. In other words, a labor of removal is a labor not needed for its own sake. Something not needed in itself, but only in order to remove some other problem—trapping a snake so it won’t harm him. Tosafot in several places disagree with Rashi, and they say: what was done in the Tabernacle—that is what determines whether it is for its own sake or not for its own sake. And in the Arukh HaShulchan it seems he understood that this means the normal purpose of the labor. Meaning, why people usually do this action—that is what defines it, the need that is called “for its own sake.” If you do it for some other purpose, then it is not for its own sake.

I noted that according to Rashi, the canonical example brought in the Talmud for a labor not needed for its own sake is someone who digs a hole and needs only its dirt. And there, plainly, this is not a labor of removal. Meaning, I dig the hole and I need the dirt; I’m not removing anything. So why, according to Rashi, is this a labor not needed for its own sake if the definition is removal? Here it is not a labor of removal.

So I said that I suggested there are two kinds of cases of labor not needed for its own sake according to Rashi. One kind is when we have before us two tangible results, right in front of our eyes, after the labor is finished. For example, when I dig the hole, I have a hole in the ground and I have the sand—the dirt—that I gathered. Once I have two results in front of me, I can say: I did it for this result, the dirt, and not for the hole. And therefore it is a labor not needed for its own sake.

In all the labors of removal—for example, someone who traps a snake so it won’t harm him, or someone who extinguishes a fire in order to save oil, or something like that—the result that exists before us is only one. The result before us is simply that the fire no longer exists. That is the result. What about the second result? That is the absence of an alternative result. Meaning, before us we have that there is no lack of oil. But that is not a result of the action; rather it is something that would have happened had I not acted. Right? In that situation I can’t say: look, I really intended a different result, not the extinguishing of the fire, because we don’t have another result. And therefore here, Rashi seemingly says, this should have been a labor needed for its own sake. It should have made me liable. It’s not like digging a hole, where there are two results, so if I say I intended the sand—why are you throwing the trench at me? I didn’t do the act for the trench, I did it for the sand. Here, look, this is the sand. That’s what I did it for. In that situation I can easily say I didn’t intend the trench; it is a labor not needed for its own sake. The act was not done for making the trench.

But in our case, what can I say? I did the act for what? Can I point to something? I can’t point to anything. To the oil that would have been lacking and now is not lacking? Who saw that? There was oil and now there is oil. I only prevented part of it from becoming lacking. So I have nothing to point to in order to associate the extinguishing with it. All we have here is the disappearance of the fire. That’s all. So if so, that should be a labor needed for its own sake. I extinguished a fire and I did it so there wouldn’t be fire. Okay?

So no. Here, says Rashi, this is a labor of removal. And therefore this too is a labor not needed for its own sake. What does that mean? The act you did as extinguishing—you did it in order to remove, or in order that the oil not disappear. Right? So in that situation, true, there is no tangible result to which I can attach the action, but the alternative result is removal. Such a thing is also a labor not needed for its own sake. That is the claim.

And therefore I think that when Rashi says this is a labor of removal, Rashi emphasizes that in all those places where we do not have two results. If we don’t have two results, then Rashi asks himself: wait, then why is this a labor not needed for its own sake? It’s not like digging a hole. In the case of digging a hole he doesn’t write this. Why? Because in digging a hole it is obvious why it is a labor not needed for its own sake, because the labor was done for the dirt and not for the trench. What’s the problem? In all the places where Rashi explains this—and he repeats it in quite a few places, four, five, six places throughout the Talmud with this idea of removal—in all those places it is always a situation where there is one action. So the question arises: then why do you define it as a labor not needed for its own sake? So Rashi says: because there is removal here. Not that the definition of labor not needed for its own sake is a labor of removal. The definition of labor not needed for its own sake is like Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam: when you do one act for a purpose that is not its own, not the prohibited purpose but some other purpose.

Rashi says yes—but you can only say that where there are two results. Then I do it for this result, so you cannot attribute that other result to me. If there is only one result, then you can’t say that. Therefore Rashi says: yes, but if it is an act of removal, then it is still a labor not needed for its own sake. So there are really two types of… yes. And therefore all the places where Rashi explains it—on the contrary, why does he explain it in all those places? Because he does not want to define what labor not needed for its own sake is. Quite the opposite: the definition of labor not needed for its own sake is clear; it is written in the case of digging a hole and needing only the dirt. In all those places, that definition does not apply. So Rashi says: then why is it a labor not needed for its own sake? Because there is removal here.

It is a bit similar to what we discussed last year—I think I gave classes on the chapter HaZahav in tractate Bava Metzia. There at the beginning there is a question: what defines money and what defines merchandise in acquisition by money? When I pay money and buy merchandise—we know that merchandise too is worth money; something worth money is like money. So in fact here both sides can be treated as money. So which one is the money and which one is the merchandise? The practical difference is that the merchandise has to be pulled physically in order for the acquisition to take effect; transferring the money does not complete the acquisition.

The Talmud discusses there whether what matters is sharpness or importance—Rabbi in his old age and Rabbi in his youth. The question is: what criterion defines money? Is it its liquidity, its portability—what is called sharpness—that it circulates, can be spent anywhere? Merchandise, if I don’t need it, it’s useless to me, but money can be used anywhere—is that what matters? Or importance? The question is which matters more.

People think the Talmud there is discussing the definition of money—what is money? But that is not correct. The definition of money—I explained there what it is. The definition of money is simple: it is something given only for its value. When I buy a chair, I am not buying the chair for its value; I buy the chair because I need a chair. When I pay for the chair with a 100-shekel bill, I give you the 100 shekels not because you need to use the 100-shekel bill—just to wrap your flask in it—but because it has a value of 100 shekels. If instead I gave you a shtender worth 100 shekels, that shtender would be the money, because you are not taking it in order to use the shtender; you are taking it because you want a value of 100 shekels. So the shtender is given to you as value. That’s all. Therefore in that transaction the shtender is the money. Okay? That is the definition of money; you do not need any other definition.

So what is importance and sharpness? The Talmud there is speaking where on both sides there are things given for their value. You buy gold coins and pay for them with silver coins. Both are money by the objective definitions of money. In such a transaction the question arises which of the two sides will be treated as money and which as merchandise. About that the Talmud says either importance or sharpness. But that is just a criterion for pathological situations. It doesn’t tell you the basic definition of the thing. On the contrary, the basic definition of the matter is obvious; only there are situations where you cannot use the basic definition—it won’t help you. When the definition applies equally to both sides, then how will you define which is the money and which is the merchandise? There and only there the Talmud says sharpness or importance or whatever.

Similarly, I am saying the same thing here, and this is an important methodological lesson. A lot of times we see in the medieval authorities (Rishonim) some definition of a concept, and then we immediately run to various places and say: wait, but that’s not the definition. And then you have to come up with answers and so on. The point is that many times the medieval authorities are not bringing it in order to define the concept. On the contrary, the definition is obvious; it doesn’t need to be defined at all. They only want to explain why in those specific cases, where apparently the definition does not apply, nevertheless the law is this way. So they tell you some principle which is really a sub-principle of a more general principle.

The same thing—I’m remembering now—there is a Talmudic discussion in tractate Chullin regarding deception of the mind, and the Talmud discusses there what deception of the mind is. The Talmud says, for example, if I invite you to a meal at my house; I know that you are leaving for abroad on the Sabbath, close to Sabbath, and I invite you for Sabbath to a meal at my house on the Sabbath, showing you that you are dear to me and that I am prepared to invest in a whole meal for you, okay—but I know you won’t come. That is called deception of the mind. Why is that called deception of the mind? Seemingly I am lying to you; I am making you feel that you are precious to me, while in truth I am taking no risk, because I know I won’t have to cash that check. What? A Talmudic passage in Chullin. He doesn’t know that I know. He doesn’t know that I know; he thinks I’m inviting him innocently, but in fact I know this won’t cost me a penny. Okay?

So Rashi says there that deception of the mind means taking gratitude for free. You receive his gratitude, and that gratitude is not due to you, because you were not really prepared to invest in him. Now the later authorities and all the halakhic decisors discuss this, in all sorts of places where the topic of deception of the mind comes up and there is no issue of gratitude at all. Gratitude isn’t relevant there. So how does that fit Rashi’s definition that deception of the mind is theft of gratitude? Meaning, taking gratitude you don’t deserve. It is simply a misunderstanding. When Rashi talks about deception of the mind, he is talking about stealing information—that is, taking from you information that should have been in your possession. There are places where this is done in the form of stealing gratitude. But that is secondary, because here it is a specific case of a broader rule. Right. It is not an exceptional case; it is just a specific illustration of the general principle.

But there too, the methodological mistake is the same mistake. They all start looking: wait, so where is the gratitude here, and why, and all sorts of discussions, and they turn it into disputes among the medieval authorities, and none of it is there. Meaning, Rashi did not mean to define here the concept of deception of the mind. And that happens in a great many places, so we need to be aware of this.

Okay, in any event, for our purposes: if that is indeed so, it means that even in Rashi, the definition is not that this is a labor of removal. The definition behind labor not needed for its own sake—possibly its definition, according to him too, is the same as Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam. He only says that in places where there are not two tangible results, there I need to invoke the definition of a labor of removal in order for it to meet the criteria of labor not needed for its own sake. But in the case of digging a hole and needing only the dirt, he would define it like Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam. What? Is the labor actually the goal? No, the labor is done for a goal that is not the prohibited goal. What is the source? What are the prohibited goals? Maybe from the Tabernacle, maybe from common usage—you can discuss that. That is already a different discussion. Fine? But a labor done not for the usual prohibited goal for which it is generally done—that is called a labor not needed for its own sake. Rashi can accept that too; only where there aren’t two goals, there aren’t two results, you can’t attribute. Fine—so a labor of removal also fulfills that condition. Okay.

Now, at the end of the previous class we got to the question: what is the difference between labor not needed for its own sake and an inevitable result—between unintentional action and an inevitable result? Right, we talked about that. And Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam, when he says his principle, says it as an answer to that question. So he says—maybe I’ll show you here—the Arukh HaShulchan begins as follows. I said that Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam presents his principle as an answer to this difficulty, and I said that according to the Arukh it could have been resolved differently. So look at the Arukh HaShulchan; he really brings these two things as two answers to that.

“Know that it is well known throughout the Talmud that although something done unintentionally, even according to Rabbi Yehudah, is only rabbinically forbidden, and according to Rabbi Shimon is permitted from the outset”—not everyone agrees, by the way; it is a dispute among the medieval authorities regarding Rabbi Yehudah—“and so is the law, as we wrote; nevertheless, that is in a matter where the labor may occur and may not occur. But in a matter where the labor will necessarily occur, even Rabbi Shimon agrees that he is liable by Torah law, and so they said in the Talmud in several places: Rabbi Shimon agrees in the case of ‘cut off its head and will it not die?’” And this is Maimonides’ wording—he brings Maimonides.

Then he says: “And here there is a great question”—section 32—“how can one be liable according to Rabbi Shimon in a case of inevitable result, for since he does not intend it, it is obvious that he does not need its purpose, and if so, it is at any rate a labor not needed for its own sake.” Right? What happens in an unintentional case with an inevitable result? Say, one drags a bench and makes a furrow, and a furrow will necessarily be made. We are talking about loose ground where a furrow will definitely be formed. So he said: then Rabbi Shimon obligates him. Right? Because Rabbi Shimon agrees in the case of “cut off its head and will it not die?”

And he asks why. It should exempt him not on the ground of unintentional action, but on the ground of labor not needed for its own sake. Why? Because he really does not intend the furrow. I would phrase the question a little differently; the way he formulates it is a bit odd. I would say: he still lacks intention. He does not intend the furrow, so what if a furrow will necessarily be formed? We discussed that and brought several explanations in the classes on unintentional action. I said there are two ways to understand it: maybe “we are witnesses,” or perhaps the act becomes attached to him even though he didn’t intend it, and so on. But first of all the question is: why is he not exempt on the grounds of unintentional action? Why are you bringing in labor not needed for its own sake? Meaning, he understands that the exemption here should have been on the basis of labor not needed for its own sake.

“And from the words of our rabbis, the Tosafists, in tractates Shabbat, Yoma, and Keritot, it appears that the explanation is as follows: every inevitable result where we are witnesses that it is beneficial to him—he is liable, even though he does not intend it. And against your will, it is as if he intended it. And every case where we are witnesses that it is not beneficial to him in this way”—meaning that it makes no difference to him—“is like labor not needed for its own sake.” Right, so what is he saying? The difference is simply whether it is beneficial to him. Basically, labor not needed for its own sake is just an inevitable result that is not beneficial to him. That’s all. The practical implication, of course, is that in an inevitable result that is not beneficial to him there is a rabbinic prohibition; it is not totally permitted. Because it is the same thing as labor not needed for its own sake. Labor not needed for its own sake has a rabbinic prohibition. Right, so that is what he says according to those medieval authorities. Then the difference between an inevitable result not beneficial to him and labor not needed for its own sake is simply the question of benefit. Okay? And that is there. If it is not beneficial to him, it is labor not needed for its own sake; if it is beneficial to him, it is an inevitable result—an unintentional action with an inevitable result. Right. That is basically the claim. “Not needed for its own sake” means he does not need it; it is not beneficial to him what comes out—that is what “not needed for its own sake” means. Because his assumption is, again, “we are witnesses that it is beneficial to him.” Fine?

What is he really saying? “Every inevitable result where we are witnesses that it is beneficial to him is liable even though he did not intend it.” Meaning, after all, we are witnesses that it is beneficial to him. Tosafot also says there that “we are witnesses that it is beneficial to him” means we are also witnesses that he intends it. If it is beneficial to him—right, if it’s green outside and red inside and has watermelon seeds, it’s a watermelon. Right? Meaning, he does something where something will necessarily happen, and it is also convenient for him that it happen. So what are you telling me, that you didn’t intend it? Of course you intended it. That is “we are witnesses,” right? We talked about there being two ways to understand it, but this is what Tosafot says in several places: there is such an “we are witnesses.” So he says: if that’s so, then basically the inevitable result turns you into someone who intended it, so you are liable.

And on the other hand, this is labor not needed for its own sake because you do not need the act, and in labor not needed for its own sake you do, as it were, intend it, but you do not need the prohibited result. So it should have been labor not needed for its own sake. So he says no: labor not needed for its own sake is an inevitable result that is not beneficial to him. Therefore there is only a rabbinic prohibition.

“But Rashi explicitly wrote that Rabbi Shimon agrees in a case where he does not care whether it happens or not, unless he specifically wants the opposite—that the labor not be done.” Right, Rashi does not accept that “not beneficial to him” means he does not want it. Rather, he simply does not care. I don’t see why this is so important in his view; I think you can still load that in even according to Rashi. Meaning, even if he doesn’t care, labor not needed for its own sake is either when he doesn’t care or when he doesn’t want it. And an inevitable result is only where it is genuinely beneficial to him. I don’t think this has to be made dependent on a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot. It is a matter of “we are witnesses.” What? It is a matter of “we are witnesses.” Obviously. Meaning, every time that “we are witnesses” does not exist, then it is labor not needed for its own sake. Right. That’s the…

In any event, he brings the Arukh’s approach—or the approach of the medieval authorities who go in the Arukh’s path—as a solution to the question what the difference is between labor not needed for its own sake and an inevitable result, that is, unintentional action in a case of inevitable result. Meaning, here it is a matter of benefit, and there it is not. That is basically the difference. Okay?

I said that in the Arukh itself it is hard to fit this in, because the Arukh itself claims that an inevitable result not beneficial to him is completely permitted. It goes back to being ordinary unintentional action. Meaning, it cancels the inevitable result and returns to being unintentional action, and unintentional action is permitted. Not like labor not needed for its own sake, which is rabbinically prohibited. It is completely permitted. Fine? But according to the medieval authorities who go in the Arukh’s path and say that an inevitable result not beneficial to him is rabbinically prohibited—not completely permitted—then you can identify it with labor not needed for its own sake. In the Arukh itself, that apparently doesn’t work.

Now he brings Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam: “And we found that Maimonides’ son was asked about this, and he answered in Maimonides’ name in this language: the difference between labor not needed for its own sake and an inevitable result is that regarding an inevitable result, he does not intend the labor at all; it simply occurs necessarily—for example, one closes the door of his house and there was a deer there. He did not intend to guard the deer; the labor simply occurs necessarily. But labor not needed for its own sake is where he intends the body of the labor, but does not intend its purpose.” And the Arukh HaShulchan says: “The great scholars struggled with his meaning, and I have not seen words here that settle on the heart.” Fine. He brings Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam and says: I don’t quite understand the distinction—what does it mean, he does or does not intend the labor?

I said that the simple understanding in Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam is that there is a difference between whether you see this as one act or as two acts. If it is one act, as in someone who digs a hole and needs only the dirt—one act with two results; you dug a hole and it has two results, the hole and the dirt—then in such a case it is labor not needed for its own sake. Meaning, if you do not need the purpose that belongs to the labor itself, then it is labor not needed for its own sake.

In unintentional action, it is dragging a bench and making a furrow. You are doing two acts: you are dragging a bench and you are digging into the ground. You are doing both things. Right? It is not one act with two results; it is two different acts, each with its own result. One is that the bench moved, and the second is that a furrow was made. You are both plowing and dragging in parallel. In digging the pit, you are doing only one thing—digging a pit. You are not doing another act; it just has two results. Okay? Therefore Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam says that this is the difference: the difference is not the question of whether it is beneficial to him.

It may be that I do not agree with the Arukh, and in an inevitable result one is liable whether it is beneficial to him or not beneficial to him; by the way, that is in fact how Jewish law is ruled in practice—we do not rule like the Arukh in the Shulchan Arukh—and then the difference between labor not needed for its own sake and unintentional action cannot be based on the question of benefit, because the question of benefit does not matter in the laws of unintentional action. So even an inevitable result not beneficial to him is an inevitable result that one is liable for. You cannot identify it with labor not needed for its own sake. So what is the difference? Here it is one act—in labor not needed for its own sake—and unintentional action and inevitable result are two different acts.

Now, of course, I already noted that according to this, the cutting of the chicken’s head—which is the classic case of inevitable result—how many acts am I doing there? Seemingly one. You simply cut off the chicken’s head, right? So why is that called unintentional action and inevitable result? Why isn’t it called labor not needed for its own sake? I am cutting off the chicken’s head but I do not want the chicken to die—I need it, or not that I do not want it, but I don’t need a dead chicken; I need its head for a child to play with. Okay, so that is really labor not needed for its own sake. Why is it called unintentional action in a case of inevitable result?

The truth is that according to Rashi’s definition one could have said that this is basically a labor of removal. Wait. No, the opposite—right, that is why I said there is an error here. Let’s put it this way: according to Tosafot I can say that it is beneficial to him—wait, the opposite—I can say that it is beneficial to him that the chicken dies, and therefore it is an inevitable result beneficial to him. If it were not beneficial to him, then it really would be labor not needed for its own sake. Or else, the whole question is simply whether we are talking about benefit or non-benefit. Fine?

According to Rashi, where we are talking about a labor of removal, in the chicken case it has nothing to do with a labor of removal, because in the chicken case I have two results, right? I have two results: I have the chicken’s head and I have its body—it is dead. Both results exist. In that situation I do not need to invoke a labor of removal in order to define something as labor not needed for its own sake. Therefore the difficulty becomes even sharper according to Rashi. Because according to Rashi, when I cut off the chicken’s head, it should have been labor not needed for its own sake and not unintentional action and inevitable result. Okay? There are two results here, exactly as in labor not needed for its own sake.

And according to Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam—again, I’m saying how I understood Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam—but also according to Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam, cutting off the chicken’s head should have been labor not needed for its own sake and not unintentional action in a case of inevitable result. I don’t know. It could be that when I cut off the chicken’s head, at least for those medieval authorities, it is not perceived like digging a hole when you need the dirt. When you dig a hole and need the dirt, you do one thing—you dig a hole—and in the end dirt comes out, because when you dug the hole dirt came out. In cutting off the chicken’s head, the act is one act, but also in dragging the bench the act is one act. The act is always one when we talk about it. The question is: how do I see that one act?

So in dragging the bench I see it as really two acts being done in parallel. I am both dragging the bench and making a furrow. I am doing both things. It is not two results of one act, but two different acts. It may be that also in cutting off the chicken’s head, the physical act is of course one act, but when I look at it through halakhic glasses, I really see that you are doing two things here: cutting off a head and killing a chicken. Meaning, you are doing both of those things. The fact that they are done in one physical act is obvious, but that is always the case. Every labor not needed for its own sake and every unintentional action is done in one physical act. That is always so. The question is what the halakhic perspective on such a thing is. And still, exactly what the criterion is—I find it hard to say. What?

Now, the Arukh HaShulchan, when he wants to explain why—according to Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam—there really is a difference between labor not needed for its own sake and unintentional action with an inevitable result, says as follows: “In my humble opinion it appears that the matter is as follows. For example, regarding commandments, there are authorities who say they require intention, and there are authorities who say that even if one does not intend, he has fulfilled his obligation, because it is as though he intended. Nevertheless, if he intends not to fulfill the obligation, all agree that he has not fulfilled it.”

He links unintentional action in Sabbath labors to the issue of whether commandments require intention in the laws of commandments. I talked about commandments requiring intention last year—I don’t remember exactly—and there I really did make this comparison between unintentional action and commandments requiring intention. No, it was this year in Elul; we discussed commandments requiring intention in the Talmudic passage in tractate Rosh Hashanah.

In any event, what he basically wants to say is this. Regarding commandments requiring intention, there is a dispute whether commandments require intention or not. According to the one who says commandments do not require intention, then even if I did not intend, I have fulfilled the obligation. Okay? But what? Yes, but if I intend the opposite—meaning, I specifically intend not to fulfill it—right? In that situation I have not fulfilled it. Even according to the view that commandments do not require intention, with opposite intention one does not fulfill the obligation.

He says that is according to all opinions, and that is not correct as a universal statement. Even that itself is not agreed upon by all the medieval authorities. There are medieval authorities who say so. It may be that when he says “all agree,” he means both according to the one who says commandments require intention and according to the one who says commandments do not require intention. Not “all authorities,” as if every medieval authority agrees. Right? Rather, some medieval authorities say that according to all—whether you say commandments require intention or do not require intention—he does not fulfill his obligation if he has opposite intention.

So he says: the same is true with Sabbath labors. “And so it is with the labors of the Sabbath: certainly when one does the prohibited labor, he must intend it. But intention is not indispensable, for if so, one could do all the labors and say he did not intend them. Rather, obviously, even if he acts with no intention of labor at all, once he acts in the normal manner of the labor, what use is the absence of his intention? His intention is in effect necessarily carried out. And this is the matter of inevitable result. But if he truly intends the labor, only he does it for another purpose, then it is like a commandment when one intended not to fulfill it. And here too one cannot say that it is as though he intended, for he certainly does intend, but he intends another purpose and not the core prohibited aspect of the labor.”

So in the case of trapping a deer, where he does not intend anything at all—and also in the case of a bird’s head for a child to play with—he intends nothing at all. But that is not so with someone who digs a hole and needs only the dirt, for there he certainly intends the digging, only for another purpose, namely for the dirt. But in trapping the deer he does not intend trapping at all; he is just closing a door. He does not intend trapping at all. And likewise with a bird’s head for a child’s play: again, the same dilemma we had before—he does not intend killing at all; he only wants to take the… he does not intend killing, only another goal; he doesn’t want to kill at all, he needs the head. This is basically the reasoning I mentioned before for why this is seen as two different acts: the act of taking the head and the act of killing. He intends the act of taking the head, not the act of killing.

And he assumes it is obvious here that the halakhic perspective on cutting off a head is that there are two different acts here, not one act with two results. And therefore he says: “And this is even worse, for the labor is necessarily performed, and it is as though he intended it.” Parentheses not important.

So what is he really saying? He is basically claiming that labor not needed for its own sake is an inevitable result with opposite intention. If it is unintentional action with an inevitable result, then even if you are unintentional it is considered as though you intended it, right? But if there is opposite intention, then it is not considered as though you intended it. Fine? It is not considered as though you intended it, and therefore you are exempt.

Notice, though, that you are exempt but it is still forbidden, since labor not needed for its own sake is rabbinically prohibited. If you tell me that when he intends something else the inevitable result does not turn him into someone who intended it, then I would expect him to be exempt because of unintentional action and to be completely permitted, because the inevitable result plays no role here; this cancels the inevitable result. So he is basically just unintentional, not labor not needed for its own sake. So he argues that there is some rabbinic decree on such cases of inevitable result with opposite intention, such that it still remains rabbinically prohibited. The Torah prohibition falls away because there is opposite intention, but the rabbinic prohibition still remains here for some reason. Fine? But okay, that is only a rabbinic difference; on the Torah level it is really just Tosafot’s category of unintentional action. It is a type of unintentional action for which the rabbis still decreed a prohibition. And that is what they call labor not needed for its own sake. Again? Rather, he also intends the opposite act? No—he is not talking about the result in terms of whether it is beneficial or not beneficial. He means what he actually intends. Benefit is something after the fact. Meaning, what happened—I did not intend it—but if it is beneficial to me, it still may be that I will be liable. Here he is asking: what do I intend? What do I want to do with this act? Do I want this or do I want that?

Fine. It may be possible to connect this, say, to commandments requiring intention. In commandments requiring intention, what would this law really depend on—that if he has opposite intention it does not count for him? There are views that say yes and views that say no. What is the difference? I think the difference is in the question whether, when you say commandments do not require intention, you mean only that intention is not indispensable. Everyone needs intention, but intention does not hold back the commandment. Do you say that even without intention it is basically as if you intended? Intention is required, but you had implicit intention.

Say, for example, you go to synagogue and put on tefillin, fine? Now you did not specifically intend to fulfill the commandment. What are you doing there? If you are going to synagogue and putting on tefillin, apparently you did it for the commandment; the context shows that you intended it, right? Therefore commandments do not require intention. “Commandments do not require intention” does not mean that commandments truly do not require intention. Rather it means that if you perform a commandment in its normal context, then there is implicit intention. Presumably you intend it, even if you did not have it explicitly in consciousness.

Now here, if that is what you say, then once there is opposite intention, clearly this is no longer true. You cannot say there is an assessment that he implicitly intended it, because I am showing you why I did it—I have opposite intention. Fine? But if you say that “commandments do not require intention” is not because it is considered implicit intention—no, intention simply is not needed; it is enough that you did the act—then why should opposite intention matter? What practical difference does it make? In the final analysis, what is required is the act; intention makes no difference. So even with opposite intention, after all I did the act.

You could, with some pressure, say that opposite intention damages it, but on the conceptual level I would not distinguish between lack of intention and opposite intention if intention truly is not needed. If all that is required is to do the act, then he did the act. Only if I say that a commandment without intention really involves some kind of implicit intention—then where there is opposite intention you cannot say there is implicit intention. There was no intention, and therefore he did not fulfill his obligation.

I want to say something similar here as well. When he says that labor not needed for its own sake is basically an inevitable result with opposite intention, and therefore in practice an inevitable result does not obligate in such a case, that depends on how you understand inevitable result. If you understand that inevitable result turns an unintentional act into an intentional one, then when there is opposite intention you cannot say that he intended it. I am showing you why I did it—I have opposite intention. Fine? So don’t tell me that this turned me into someone who intended it.

But if you say no, inevitable result makes me liable despite the fact that I don’t intend it, because intention is not required in order to be liable—or I said this in different formulations—perhaps inevitable result attaches the prohibited act to me even without intention. Usually what intention does is attach the prohibited act to me; if there was no intention, it is not attached to me. So inevitable result attaches it to me despite my lack of intention. It is not that inevitable result turns me into someone who intended it; inevitable result makes me liable even though I did not intend it. Fine? Intention is not needed. In that situation, opposite intention also will not help, because intention is not needed. Inevitable result attached the matter to me, and intention is not needed, so I would be liable even if there is opposite intention.

So the Arukh HaShulchan’s explanation is based on his understanding that inevitable result turns me into someone who intended it. Therefore he says: it turns me into someone who intended it only if it is really possible to attribute intention to me. If I have opposite intention, then how can you say it turns me into someone who intended it? Look at his wording—he writes this explicitly. He says, “it is like a commandment where one intended not to fulfill it, and here too one cannot say that it is as though he intended, for he certainly does intend, but he intends another purpose.” Meaning, he understands that in order to make you liable, one has to say that you are considered to have intended it. And then he says: fine, if I have another intention, you cannot say I am considered to have intended it.

But if the view is that I am liable not because I am considered to have intended it, but because intention is not needed, then why should it matter that I have another intention? In practice I am liable. So according to his approach, obviously this is how he understood it, and perhaps that is what the dispute depends on—how to explain the difference between labor not needed for its own sake and unintentional action in a case of inevitable result. Right? Whoever resorts to Rabbi Abraham ben HaRambam’s explanation as interpreted by the Arukh HaShulchan apparently understands that inevitable result turns you into someone who intended it. If inevitable result turns you into someone who intended it, then you have to say this is opposite intention in order to say: fine, but here you will not be liable, because even if it is an inevitable result, you cannot turn him into someone who intended it.

If you say no—inevitable result does not turn me into someone who intended it; inevitable result makes me liable despite the fact that I do not intend it—then here explanations based on opposite intention will not help. Here you have to say maybe like Tosafot: it is not beneficial to him, or it was not in the Tabernacle, or things of that sort.

Now I want to go back for a moment to the question of defining labor not needed for its own sake. In the Talmudic passage in tractate Chagigah that we saw, the Talmud says these are “mountains hanging by a hair,” like one who digs a hole and needs only its dirt. There the Talmud says that this is “intentional craftsmanship.” Rashi says: “intentional craftsmanship”—that his thought thought it in his mind and he intended it, and this one did not intend this construction, the construction created by digging the hole. Therefore he is exempt. And this is only a small hint. Right? That is why these are mountains hanging by a hair, because in the Torah itself there is only a very small hint to all these laws. “For ‘intentional craftsmanship’ regarding Sabbath is not written there, but only regarding the Tabernacle. And because in the section of Vayakhel the section of Sabbath is juxtaposed to the section of the Tabernacle, we learn intentional craftsmanship.”

Right? Why am I exempt in labor not needed for its own sake? Because it is not intentional craftsmanship. He did not intend the hole. Okay? And he understands that the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake belongs to the family of intentional craftsmanship. I mentioned that somewhat at the beginning.

By contrast, Tosafot says—Rashi says “intentional craft…” or Tosafot says on that Tosafot: “The Torah forbade only intentional craftsmanship.” Rashi explained that labor not needed for its own sake means that in this kind of labor, he did not want this construction in the world. Right, he would have preferred that when he demolishes—there we are talking about demolishing in order to rebuild in its place—he would have preferred that this building had never existed in the world. The building existed against his will, so he demolishes it because he needs to tear it down.

Tosafot says that cannot be. “For if so, then in all labors as well—for example, demolishing in order to rebuild in its place—why should he be liable?” Right? Demolishing in order to rebuild in its place—not elsewhere—he is liable. Fine? Why is he liable? After all, there too he would have preferred that the building never have been built and that he could just build it directly in place. Okay? So Tosafot says: “for he is not pleased that there should be a building in the world,” and likewise in tearing in order to sew, he also never wanted this tear at all. If he tears because of his mourning, or tears in his anger, and regarding the dead—

Therefore the Ri says that labor not needed for its own sake means he does not need the root essence of the prohibition. Labor not needed for its own sake is not like Rashi, where it is a labor of removal, where you would rather it not have come about at all, as we discussed until now. Rather the definition is different: he does not need the root essence of the prohibition. For example, one digs but does not need the hole, which is the labor. Here you have the definition: the labor of digging is the labor of producing a hole. He does not need the hole; he does it for the dirt. Someone who does not need the labor itself—that is called labor not needed for its own sake, not a labor of removal. Fine?

And likewise one who carries out a dead body on a bed, and many other examples in the chapter “HaMotzi,” and these are not like the labors of the Tabernacle, where they needed the essence of the labor—extinguishing for the sake of charcoal, trapping the tachashim and the hillazon, and so too all similar cases. So Tosafot says that labor not needed for its own sake means a labor not done for the purpose for which it was done in the Tabernacle. Need for its own sake is defined as that purpose for which they did the labor in the Tabernacle. Okay? That is Tosafot’s definition, and you do not need labor of removal or anything else.

I said that maybe according to Rashi too, the basic definition is not labor of removal. Then according to Tosafot, and several later authorities infer this—and in other Tosafot passages it is written more explicitly—labor not needed for its own sake is not at all a subset of intentional craftsmanship. It has nothing to do with intentional craftsmanship. It is simply that the prohibited labors are the labors that were done in the Tabernacle. What was not in the Tabernacle was not prohibited—not because it is not intentional craftsmanship, but because it was not in the Tabernacle. Only labors done in the Tabernacle were prohibited. Okay? Therefore according to Tosafot, labor not needed for its own sake is not a branch of intentional craftsmanship at all; it is a completely different category.

In the Talmud in Chagigah it is a bit hard to fit that in. Look at the Talmud. The Talmud says: “Mountains hanging by a hair”—these are the laws of Sabbath. The Talmud asks: are the laws of Sabbath not written explicitly? The laws of Sabbath are written explicitly in the Torah; they are not “mountains hanging by a hair,” just hinted at. Right? “As Rabbi Abba said: Rabbi Abba said, one who digs a hole on the Sabbath and needs only the dirt is exempt for it.” Right? That is labor not needed for its own sake. The Talmud asks: according to whom? According to Rabbi Shimon, who says that labor not needed for its own sake is exempt. “You can even say according to Rabbi Yehudah: there it is constructive; here it is destructive.” Right? When you dig the hole, you are damaging the ground. Therefore Rabbi Yehudah too agrees that here he is exempt. Fine? Not because of labor not needed for its own sake, but because of destructive action.

The Talmud then asks: so what are the “mountains hanging by a hair”? What is the hair from which we learn these mountains—that is, the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake? The Talmud says: “The Torah forbade intentional craftsmanship, but intentional craftsmanship is not written.” “Not written,” says Rashi—meaning, not written in the laws of Sabbath. It is written in connection with the work of the Tabernacle. So there is some little hint on which we build all these tall mountains.

What do you see here? That the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake is because of intentional craftsmanship, no? It is explicit in the Talmud. We learn the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake from intentional craftsmanship. So how can Tosafot say it is not because of intentional craftsmanship, but because it was not in the Tabernacle? Rashi’s view seems to be written explicitly in the Talmud.

The truth is that there are a few ways to understand this. One could say that when the Talmud says here “intentional craftsmanship,” it is not meant precisely. It is not that we learn it from the words “intentional craftsmanship,” but the idea of intentional craftsmanship means labor as it was in the Tabernacle, or something like that. Therefore, since intentional craftsmanship is said regarding the Tabernacle, and this was not in the Tabernacle, therefore it is not prohibited. But no—it is not an exemption under the legal category of intentional craftsmanship; rather, the labors that were in the Tabernacle—and “intentional craftsmanship” is just a borrowed phrase. But that is a little forced.

There is another way to understand it. Maybe what the Talmud is saying is: where is this written? After all, intentional craftsmanship is not written. So the Talmud says: it is written in the Tabernacle. What is this said about? The Talmud first says that the Mishnah apparently follows Rabbi Shimon, who exempts labor not needed for its own sake. Then the Talmud says no—this can also follow Rabbi Yehudah, because there is an exemption of destructive action here. The hole damages the ground. Rabbi Yehudah also agrees that one is exempt.

It may be that when the Talmud says “intentional craftsmanship,” it is speaking about Rabbi Yehudah, not Rabbi Shimon. The exemption of labor not needed for its own sake is not from the laws of intentional craftsmanship. It comes from the fact that it was not in the Tabernacle. The exemption of destructive action—which would fit the Mishnah according to Rabbi Yehudah—that does come from the laws of intentional craftsmanship.

Now, once we are dealing here with destructive action, Rabbi Shimon too can agree that the exemption in the Talmud here is because of destructive action, not because of labor not needed for its own sake. Because if the Mishnah is speaking about a situation where the hole damages the ground, then according to both Rabbi Yehudah and Rabbi Shimon there is an exemption of destructive action. According to Rabbi Shimon you are exempt even if there is no damage to the ground, because of labor not needed for its own sake. But if I already understand that here we are talking about damage to the ground, because this works even according to Rabbi Yehudah, then according to Rabbi Shimon too the exemption here is the exemption of destructive action. Then when the Talmud says this is learned from intentional craftsmanship, according to both Rabbi Yehudah and Rabbi Shimon this is an exemption of destructive action, because here he is damaging the ground, and that exemption is learned from the laws of intentional craftsmanship. But labor not needed for its own sake is not from the laws of intentional craftsmanship. And that could be a good explanation in Tosafot.

The Mishnah in tractate Shabbat 29 says as follows: “One who extinguishes the lamp because he is afraid of gentiles, because of bandits, because of an evil spirit, or because a sick person should sleep—he is exempt. If he does so to spare the lamp, to spare the oil, or to spare the wick—he is liable. Rabbi Yose exempts in all of them except the wick, because he makes charcoal.” There is another version in Maimonides that reads: “And if because of the sick person who should sleep—he is exempt,” and according to Maimonides that comes out a bit differently. Why? What difference does it make whether it says “or because” or “and if because”? As though all of it would be “because of gentiles, because of bandits, because of an evil spirit,” and then “or if because of the sick person who should sleep—he is exempt.” And according to Maimonides all the first cases would be liable, and the sick person exempt. That seems to be what he said. Ah—that all the other early authorities say liable? I don’t know; I don’t remember such a thing, but one would have to look.

Okay. In any event, there is a tannaitic dispute here regarding extinguishing. In practice, Jewish law usually follows Rabbi Yose. So the Talmud says there: “If he does so to spare the lamp,” etc. According to whom does Rabbi Yose hold? If he holds like Rabbi Yehudah, then even in those earlier cases he too should be liable. Rabbi Yehudah says that labor not needed for its own sake is liable, so why is he exempt if he is afraid of gentiles, bandits, or if he spares the lamp, spares the oil? In all of those he should be liable; it is labor not needed for its own sake. So Rabbi Yose cannot hold like Rabbi Yehudah.

And if he holds like Rabbi Shimon, then even the wick should be exempt. So why only charcoal? Also if he spares the lamp or the wick he should be exempt. So it does not fit either Rabbi Shimon or Rabbi Yehudah.

So the Talmud says: really he holds like Rabbi Yehudah, and Rabbi Yose holds that demolishing in order to build in its place counts as demolishing, but demolishing in order to build elsewhere does not count as demolishing. Meaning, there must be repair in the very object on which you act. If the repair is in something else, then you are exempt, and this belongs to the definitions of the labors; it is not labor not needed for its own sake. Meaning, in this law even Rabbi Yehudah agrees. Okay? That is the claim, and then the Talmud says we learn this from the Tabernacle—so how can that be? And it answers.

Rabbi Yochanan says: really he holds like Rabbi Shimon. And why is the wick different? As Rav Hamnuna said, or some say Rav Adda bar Ahavah said: here we are dealing with a wick that needs singeing. In such a case even Rabbi Shimon agrees that he is repairing a vessel. Rava said: this too is inferred from the wording, because it says “because he makes charcoal,” not “because it becomes charcoal.” Learn from this. So Rabbi Yose really holds like Rabbi Shimon, and in practice we rule like Rabbi Shimon.

Maimonides rules regarding labor not needed for its own sake like Rabbi Yehudah. And the Shulchan Arukh follows Maimonides. There are authorities—if you want to interpret Rabbi Yose as the practical law, you can interpret him like Rabbi Shimon and still not rule like him; that is possible. Fine. But in any event, if in practice we rule like Rabbi Shimon, then basically labor not needed for its own sake is exempt. So if that is so, then in all the first examples in the Mishnah—because of gentiles, bandits, evil spirit, a sick person sleeping, to spare the oil, to spare the wick—all those are exempt. Why? Because it is labor not needed for its own sake.

Why according to Rabbi Yose is he liable for the wick? Because he makes charcoal. What does that mean? He needs to singe the wick. We are talking about the kind of wick that needs singeing in order to be lit; it didn’t yet have a burnt tip. A burnt tip is easier to light. So if it already had a burnt tip to begin with and you burn the wick, then that is still labor not needed for its own sake, because you are not repairing the wick; you just want to spare the wick, you want to preserve wick for yourself. And preserving something is like sparing the oil.

But if we are talking about a wick that is still clean, not singed, and you light it in order to singe it, then once you light it in order to singe it, that is labor needed for its own sake and you are liable, because it is also repair in the very object on which you are acting. Therefore it is like demolishing in order to build in its place, and therefore here you are liable. What does it mean to make charcoal? What? To make coals? Make charcoal? Or in the wick, to make charcoal. Yes. So either you call that making charcoal—you are basically turning the wick into charcoal—or you say no, it need not specifically be charcoal; the essential point is that there is positive repair in the object on which you act. Either you make charcoal or you singe the wick.

There Rashi says: “Even in the case of the wick he too should be exempt, for sparing the wick is also labor not needed for its own sake, because the labor here is extinguishing, and he does not need the extinguishing itself. For if it had never been lit in the first place, that would have suited him; if it had originally already been singed, since he wants to spare it, then if it were extinguished more, that would suit him better.” Right, he says this is basically a labor of removal. Why? Because he would have preferred that there be no fire on this wick at all. The fact that there is fire forces him to extinguish the fire, but he would rather there not be any fire at all. Meaning, basically this is a labor of removal. The fire threatens the wick, to consume it, and he extinguishes the fire in order to remove the fire so it will not cause damage. That is like trapping a snake so it won’t harm me. So it is a labor of removal, and therefore this is labor not needed for its own sake.

And what does Rabbi Yehudah hold? “Really he holds like Rabbi Yehudah”—so Rashi says: “Really he holds like Rabbi Yehudah, who does not exempt because it is not needed for its own sake, since he needs it for something else, it is intentional craftsmanship.” Rashi, of course, according to his own approach, that the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake comes from intentional craftsmanship. So he says: according to Rabbi Yehudah, since the labor is needed for something else, this may be a labor of removal, but there is some other purpose for which you need the labor, and that indeed counts as intentional craftsmanship. Meaning, the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehudah is whether such a thing counts as intentional craftsmanship or not. Both agree that you need intentional craftsmanship.

Likewise in tractate Shabbat 93b, the Mishnah says: “One who carries out food less than the minimum measure in a vessel is exempt even for the vessel, because the vessel is secondary to it. One who carries out a living person on a bed is exempt even for the bed, because the bed is secondary to him. One who carries out a dead person on a bed is liable, and likewise for an olive-bulk of a corpse, an olive-bulk of carrion, or an olive-bulk of a creeping thing—he is liable. Rabbi Shimon exempts.”

So Rashi says: “Rabbi Shimon exempts even for a whole dead body, for this is labor not needed for its own sake. And every labor not needed for its own sake, but only to remove it from upon him, is labor not needed for its own sake, since he would rather it had not come to him and he did not need it. Therefore it is not intentional craftsmanship according to Rabbi Shimon.” Fine? So this is not intentional craftsmanship because it is a labor of removal. Again, in Rashi you see that this is some general principle. It is not because it was not in the Tabernacle; rather, a labor whose whole nature is removal is a lesser labor, not a significant labor, and to impose liability on the Sabbath we require intentional craftsmanship. So this is learned from the laws of intentional craftsmanship. That is, Rashi’s idea of removal is deeply tied to Rashi’s general view that labor not needed for its own sake is learned from the laws of intentional craftsmanship.

By contrast, Tosafot says this is not from the laws of intentional craftsmanship. So according to Tosafot, what does it mean for something to be needed or not needed for its own sake? It is not a deficiency in the labor itself. It is not some broad principle saying that if you do the labor in such-and-such a way then it is an unimportant labor and not intentional craftsmanship. No—it has nothing to do with intentional craftsmanship. Rather, the question is what was done in the Tabernacle. In each type of labor, check why they did it in the Tabernacle, and if you do it for another goal, then no. Okay, so this begins with the question whether labor not needed for its own sake is fundamentally part of the law of intentional craftsmanship or not, and the result is that “need for its own sake” is defined accordingly. According to Rashi, it is defined as a labor of removal, or that you intended something else. According to Tosafot, it is defined as the same need that existed in the Tabernacle. That is what is called need for its own sake.

Rashi says the same thing elsewhere as well. We already saw Tosafot above disagreeing with Rashi, right? We saw the Ri saying that labor not needed for its own sake is when he does the labor and does not need that need in the way they needed it in the Tabernacle, but for some other matter. Because the need for which the labor was done in the Tabernacle is the body and root of the labor’s prohibition. That is what is called need for its own sake.

Okay, now he says: “According to this, everything comes out nicely. Carrying out a corpse—you do not need the corpse, while in the Tabernacle they needed the objects they carried out.” Why, according to Rashi, is carrying out a corpse labor not needed for its own sake? Because you do not want the corpse outside; you need it not to be here. You would rather there not be a corpse here at all, but once there is a corpse here, you remove it so it won’t be here—not in order that it be there. Therefore this is an unimportant labor; it is not intentional craftsmanship.

According to Tosafot, it is simply because that is not how it was done in the Tabernacle. It is not a matter of more or less important. In the Tabernacle they carried things out because they needed them outside, and if you carry them out not in order that they be outside but in order that they not be here, then that is not the need that was in the Tabernacle. Therefore it is labor not needed for its own sake. What? There were no snakes in the Tabernacle? Apparently not, yes, that is what Tosafot claims. Of course all this works retroactively; you have to explain that this was not in the Tabernacle, so naturally you assume it wasn’t in the Tabernacle. And this—you understand—is very unlikely, by the way, that in the Tabernacle they never extinguished a lamp in order to save oil. Tosafot says—we saw this in the previous class—that they measured the amount of oil exactly so that it would suffice; there was no need to extinguish in order to save oil. “There is no poverty in a place of wealth.” Okay, I assume they still did things there in order to achieve side results. I think it is not hard to believe factually that this really…

Is there no connection between kindling and extinguishing? No connection at all? What do you mean? You are saying regarding the labor of kindling I am not constantly standing on it…? Because the labor of kindling is a labor of repair, while extinguishing is a labor of removal; it is destructive labor. No, that is something else; it is not important. I said it is not interesting. Whether “kindling” was singled out to teach it is a mere prohibition or to divide the labors—that does not come to teach the definitions of kindling itself. If it were meant to teach the definitions of kindling itself, it would not have needed to reach the issue of whether it was singled out as a prohibition or to divide. It is needed for its own sake. Fine?

So Tosafot basically says: according to the Ri’s principle, the Tabernacle determines what is and is not a need for its own sake, and then all these examples make sense. To carry out—yes, not so a snake bite; they trapped the snake because they needed a snake, not so that it would not bite them. Okay? Or the hillazon. Or one who lances an abscess to remove the pus that is harming him, and it is not intended to keep opening and closing all the time. Even though a full opening is made that would be fit for putting in and taking out if there were a need, nevertheless it is not like the openings in the Tabernacle, which were meant for putting in and taking out. But to make an opening for that purpose is like the Tabernacle and one is liable. And killing harmful creatures, and so on. He goes through all the examples of labor not needed for its own sake and explains them according to his view.

Right—here it says that in the Tabernacle they were careful not to increase the fire too much, right, they were careful not to increase the fire too much, and similarly demolishing in order to build, and so on. Okay. And there are other Tosafot passages in Chagigah 10 and elsewhere where Tosafot discusses this principle.

Now according to Rashi and other medieval authorities who go in his direction—Nachmanides, Baal HaMaor, there are many medieval authorities who go in this direction of labor of removal—then the question is whether really, at least according to Tosafot, if the opening he makes is fit for putting in and taking out, even though he made it for another purpose in order to lance an abscess or something like that, then according to Tosafot it would not be prohibited. It depends on the purpose for which he made it. Okay? Because according to… according to Rashi this is a definition in the labor itself. The definition of labor not needed for its own sake is a definition in the labor itself. The labor itself has to be an unimportant labor. And if the opening in itself is fit for putting in and taking out, then it is a significant opening; I made a significant opening. It doesn’t matter why I made it.

According to Tosafot, what matters is why you made this opening. There is room to hesitate here, and that is at least how Tosafot understood it. Now, another point that needs to be noted here: according to Tosafot, if you do it for another purpose not present in the Tabernacle, then it is not a labor that was prohibited, because we learn everything from the Tabernacle. But there are also subcategories. The subcategories were not in the Tabernacle. Or according to one version at the beginning of tractate Bava Kamma, the primary categories were in the Tabernacle; the subcategories are things similar to what was in the Tabernacle but were not themselves there. And because they are sufficiently similar, I learn them from the Tabernacle and prohibit them too.

So why, if I do the labor for another purpose—not the purpose that was in the Tabernacle—can I not say that this is a subcategory of the labor that was in the Tabernacle? Not everything prohibited had to be in the Tabernacle; it just has to resemble what was in the Tabernacle. According to Tosafot, apparently one has to say: true, he does not go in Rashi’s direction of deficiency—it is not an inferior labor because it is not intentional craftsmanship—but apparently he sees this as a significant enough difference that I cannot learn it from the Tabernacle. Because otherwise, even if it was not a primary category, it would at least be a subcategory. So why is labor not needed for its own sake not a subcategory? A subcategory of extinguishing. If I extinguish in order to spare the wick or the lamp, it ought to be prohibited as a subcategory of extinguishing, even though in the Tabernacle they extinguished in order to singe the wick itself.

According to Tosafot, apparently the difference—what goal you perform the labor for—is a dramatic difference that does not allow me to derive it even as a subcategory from the Tabernacle. The goals must be the same goals as in the Tabernacle. The manner of performing the act may perhaps vary somewhat, but the goals must be goals like those in the Tabernacle. When I spoke about primary categories and subcategories, I quoted the Kalkalat Shabbat by the Tiferet Yisrael on the Mishnah, where he discusses the question: in what dimensions must the subcategory resemble the primary category in order for me to say that the subcategory belongs to a certain primary category? Is it the manner of performing the act, is it the purpose for which the act is performed? Here in Tosafot it seems that the purpose is critical. Because otherwise all labors not needed for their own sake should have been subcategories of primary categories that existed in the Tabernacle.

Now Tosafot has a difficulty on Rashi, a very fundamental difficulty. He says: Rashi says “he would rather it had not come to him”—that is the definition of labor not needed for its own sake. Right? I would have preferred that there be no building here at all. If I built it in order to demolish, if I demolish it in order to rebuild, then basically the very existence of the building is not important to me. I would have been glad had there been no building at all. The only reason I need to demolish it is because there is a building here. So this is really a labor of removal, and therefore it is labor not needed for its own sake.

Tosafot says: all labors are like that. When I sew, I would be very happy if there were no tear; otherwise I would not need to sew, right? So why is sewing liable? Sewing too is removal, right? It is removing the problem created by the tear. I am removing the tear. Every labor I do is aimed at producing a state that did not exist before, and I am not satisfied with the previous state; I want the new state to exist, so I do the labor in order that it will exist. So how, according to Rashi, is a labor needed for its own sake ever defined? According to Rashi, all labors are not needed for their own sake. I don’t understand.

You said he is removing something… right. I think according to Rashi one has to distinguish between whether I am involved in preventing damage or in improving an existing state. If I am involved in improving an existing state, obviously I would prefer it to have been improved from the outset. Improving an existing state is called doing labor. Right? “Who preceded Me that I should repay him,” says the Holy One, blessed be He. But not here. That is what doing labor means.

When Rashi speaks about a labor of removal and says “he would rather it had not come to him,” he does not mean that he would not have wanted the previous state. I would not have wanted any previous state if I am doing labor. I do labor in order to change the previous state, so I do not want the previous state. “He would rather it had not come to him” always means a threat of damage. There is a threat that something will worsen my condition, and I neutralize that threat, and then my condition is not worsened—not that it is improved. Labor is something that improves my condition. Labor not needed for its own sake is something that prevents damage to my current condition. It is like preventing loss on Chol HaMoed, where only preventing loss is permitted.

There are even clearer examples of this, such as “warding off a lion.” In tractate Nedarim, right? If someone is prohibited by vow from benefiting from his fellow, and someone sees a lion coming to tear apart one of his sheep in the flock—it is permitted for me to chase away the lion, even though I thereby save his sheep from the flock, and after all he is forbidden from benefiting from me; he may not benefit from me. The answer is: he did not benefit from me. At first he had a sheep, and now too he has a sheep. All I did was remove damage; I did not add anything to him. I did not add the sheep to him; I only prevented the loss of a sheep. That is not called benefiting from me. Okay? That is the concept of “warding off a lion” in Nedarim.

By the way, paying off someone’s debt—that I once discussed in some class, and also in the classes on the chapter HaZahav—I talked about it there too. Paying off someone else’s debt is also called “warding off a lion” there in the Talmud. Meaning, if someone is prohibited by vow from benefiting from me and he owes 100 shekels to someone else, I am allowed to go to that other person and pay him 100 shekels and remove the debt. Right, but here, when I pay your debt, he obviously benefited from me, no? What if I am prohibited by vow? No, what are you talking about? What does that have to do with us? I am talking about a case where you are prohibited from benefiting from me and you owe money to someone else. I go to that someone else and remove your debt. You gained 100 shekels from me. So how can that be permitted? The answer is no, because a debt—the money is actually yours; there is just an obligation on you to pay. I removed the obligation to pay; I did not add money to you. What does that matter? If I lead his donkey—am I not allowed? I am obligated to help him raise it because it is a Torah commandment. If I don’t help him, it is a Torah commandment. So if he is prohibited from benefiting, I don’t understand the answer. Who said that matters? Maybe that too is permitted? Who said it isn’t? No, I’m saying for the same reason, you can also help prevent damage in the case of returning a lost object. No, not because of returning a lost object. No, “warding off a lion” counts as returning a lost object. So what if it counts as returning a lost object? But if he is prohibited from benefiting from me, then I should leave it, let it be lost. But the Torah commanded you. The Torah commanded me, but the Torah also prohibited by vow. Does a positive commandment override a prohibition? There is both a prohibition and a positive commandment regarding vows: “he shall not violate his word” and “according to whatever comes from his mouth, so shall he do.” No, since it can be annulled, perhaps that is easier. Never mind; it is not because a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. If it were prohibited, they would not do it. The point is that it is “warding off a lion.” Fine?

So here too, what Rashi is basically saying is that if you are only warding off a lion—that is, preventing potential damage that may occur and worsen your present condition—this is called removal, and it is labor not needed for its own sake. If you create a state that improves your current condition, that is labor needed for its own sake and you are liable. Therefore one has to distinguish here. When Rashi says “he would rather it had not come to him,” Rashi is not trying to define labor not needed for its own sake as fixing something he would have rather never happened in the first place. If that were the definition, Tosafot would be right. For Rashi this is only an opening to say that we have a labor of removal here—a removal of damage.

Meaning, this is removal of damage that I would have preferred not to happen in the first place, and I am only removing this damage, which I would have preferred not to happen, and therefore it is labor not needed for its own sake. But if it is not a labor of removal but one of repair, then even if I would have preferred it to be fixed from the outset and not that I should have to fix it, that does not turn it into labor not needed for its own sake. Fine? “He would rather it had not come to him” is a misleading expression. It is only an introduction to this being a labor of removal. “He would rather it had not come to him” means basically: I am removing something I would have preferred not to happen. But if it is not a labor of removal, then that expression by itself does not make it labor not needed for its own sake.

Now also in tractate Keritot it says: “All destructive acts are exempt.” Rabbi Abbahu taught before Rabbi Yochanan: “All destructive acts are exempt except for wounding and kindling.” He said to him: “Go teach that outside. Wounding and kindling is not a Mishnah. And if you do say it is a Mishnah, then it is a case of wounding where he needs it for his dog, and kindling where he needs its ashes.” Right? If you wound and for some reason you need the wound, or if you kindle and you need the ashes—meaning, there is something there that you need, and therefore it is actually constructive and not destructive.

“But did we not learn in the Mishnah that all destructive acts are exempt?” The Mishnah is Rabbi Yehudah; the baraita is Rabbi Shimon. What is Rabbi Shimon’s reason? Since a verse was needed to permit circumcision, that implies that ordinary wounding is liable. Why did I need a verse to permit circumcision on the Sabbath? Without the verse I would have prohibited it. Why would I have prohibited it? After all it is destructive; circumcision is destructive. So he says yes, because destructive wounding is liable. It is not like other destructive acts. The same with destructive kindling. Since a verse was needed to prohibit kindling for the execution of a priest’s daughter—you would have thought that ordinary kindling—this shows that ordinary kindling is liable.

“The Merciful One prohibited kindling regarding a priest’s daughter.” This does not mean that the Torah prohibited the labor of kindling. It means: do not burn a priest’s daughter on the Sabbath; that is, it is forbidden to carry out court punishments on the Sabbath. Fine? The movement of the Talmud here looks backwards. Meaning, from the fact that the Torah prohibits kindling, it should follow that ordinary kindling is exempt. From the fact that a verse is needed to prohibit it, it would seem that ordinary kindling is exempt. But no.

This is a very significant practical difference, because I think there are commentators who got confused about this regarding the burning of a priest’s daughter. I once wrote an article about it. What “the Merciful One prohibited kindling regarding the priest’s daughter” means is not that it comes to tell you kindling is prohibited on the Sabbath—you already know that. Rather, you might have thought that since there is a commandment for the court to punish the guilty, someone liable to death by burning, then do it even on the Sabbath. It comes to teach us: no. It is forbidden to do that on the Sabbath. So the prohibition is to impose punishment on the Sabbath, not the labor of kindling itself. The labor of kindling is not learned from here. Therefore, from here it follows that ordinary kindling is forbidden. Fine? Ordinary kindling is not forbidden because the Torah prohibited kindling, but because the Torah prohibited the burning of a priest’s daughter. Meaning, the assumption is that kindling is forbidden; you only might have thought that since this is court punishment, despite the prohibition I would allow it. The Torah comes to say no—even court punishment is forbidden. So by implication you understand that kindling is something forbidden.

From this we can learn that in wounding and kindling, “all destructive acts are exempt except for wounding and kindling.” Because for wounding and kindling there are verses showing me that even though it is destructive, he is nonetheless liable. Fine?

The Talmud says: and what does Rabbi Yehudah say about this? It says Rabbi Yehudah says: there it is constructive. As Rav Ashi said: what difference is there between repairing circumcision, repairing a vessel, cooking a wick, and cooking spices? Right? When you kindle you create ash, you destroy the thing, and this is actually repair. And when you perform circumcision you are also repairing. By virtue of the commandment—but the point is not the commandment itself. Meaning, it is not that the commandment overrides the prohibition. Rather, because there is a commandment to circumcise, the act of circumcision is not destruction but repair. Fine? So that is why Rabbi Yehudah says that there we are talking about repair. But destructive acts really are exempt—that is what he claims. Okay.

Now Rashi says: “The Mishnah is Rabbi Yehudah, who holds that destructive action in wounding is exempt.” “And it is not explained where.” Where do we find that according to Rabbi Yehudah destruction is exempt even in wounding? According to Rabbi Shimon, destruction in wounding… according to Rabbi Yehudah, destruction is exempt even in wounding and kindling. Where is this Rabbi Yehudah? We do not find such a Rabbi Yehudah anywhere. “And it seems to me that the Mishnah is Rabbi Yehudah, who says that labor not needed for its own sake is liable.”

I remind you that we also do not find Rabbi Yehudah explicitly saying that labor not needed for its own sake is liable. The Talmud assumes such a Rabbi Yehudah exists, but we already discussed that there is no explicit place that says this Rabbi Yehudah. And Rashi says it is that same Rabbi Yehudah. “Therefore the liability of one who wounds because he needs it for his dog, and one who kindles because he needs the ashes, can be found even though it is destructive relative to the labor itself; it is constructive relative to something else. And according to Rabbi Yehudah, in such a case it is labor because of the repair of something else.”

This is what we saw in the earlier Rashi: according to Rabbi Yehudah, even when you repair something other than the object on which you perform the act, it still counts as repair. It is still intentional craftsmanship. Right? So what does this mean? Rashi says as follows—and here we enter a point we’ll talk about more in the next class—but we are entering the essential connection between labor not needed for its own sake and destructive action. Labor not needed for its own sake is deeply connected to the category of destructive action.

Why? Because Rabbi Yehudah basically says this—not Rabbi Yehudah in general, but in this context: when we have labor not needed for its own sake, in principle when we have destructive action, it should have been exempt on the grounds of labor not needed for its own sake, because you are really doing it for another purpose. The prohibited purpose is destruction; you are not doing it for that purpose, so it should be exempt as labor not needed for its own sake. Okay?

So Rashi says yes, but according to Rabbi Yehudah labor not needed for its own sake is liable. Therefore if you exempt, you exempt only because it is destructive—and that is only where it is truly destructive. But if it is not destructive, then the fact that it is labor not needed for its own sake will not itself exempt you, because according to Rabbi Yehudah labor not needed for its own sake is liable. Therefore, one who wounds because he needs it for his dog and one who kindles because he needs the ashes—yes, he is destructive in terms of the labor itself, but he is repairing for another purpose, and according to Rabbi Yehudah such a thing counts as repair, not destruction, because labor not needed for its own sake is liable. Right? That is what he says: “Although it is destructive with respect to the labor itself, it is constructive with respect to others, and according to Rabbi Yehudah in such a case it is labor because of the repair of others.”

But destructive action that does not repair—meaning, destructive action that does not repair some other thing but is just plain destructive—would be exempt even according to Rabbi Yehudah. Meaning, if you are repairing something else, then according to Rabbi Yehudah, because labor not needed for its own sake is liable, this is not considered destruction at all—it is considered repair. When is it destructive according to Rabbi Yehudah? When there is no repair, even in something else.

According to Rabbi Shimon, even if there is repair in something else, you will not be… sorry, according to Rabbi Shimon, if there is repair in something else, that is labor not needed for its own sake and you are exempt even aside from the law of destructive action. You are exempt because it is labor not needed for its own sake. According to Rabbi Yehudah, who does not have the exemption of labor not needed for its own sake, it follows that even repair in another thing counts as constructive, so it will not count as destructive. Meaning, what you say about labor not needed for its own sake radiates onto the question whether the act you performed is destruction or repair—whether you need the repair in the very thing or whether repair in something else counts as well.

“And the baraita is Rabbi Shimon, who says labor not needed for its own sake is exempt. Therefore there is no case of wounding or kindling that is not destructive.” In wounding and kindling there is no kindling or wounding that is not destructive. It is always destructive. Why? Because even wounding for his dog and kindling for his ashes counts as destructive. Why? Because the repair is in another thing, but repair in another thing is labor not needed for its own sake, which according to Rabbi Shimon is exempt.

So why did the Torah have to permit circumcision and the burning of a priest’s daughter? Why did the Torah have to permit that? Apparently because in wounding and kindling, destructive action is not exempt. According to Rabbi Yehudah there is no question why the Torah had to permit it: the Torah had to permit a case where there is repair in something else. If there is repair in something else, then it really counts as repair, and it should have been forbidden; therefore the Torah had to permit it. And then you have no source from there that in such destructive action you would be liable, so all destructive acts are exempt—not only in ordinary cases but even in his dog and his ashes, in wounding and kindling. Okay? That is what he says.

“Therefore there is no wounding or kindling that is not destructive, and even one who kindles wood for his pot—it is destructive with respect to the wood.” When you kindle the wood for the sake of the pot, you destroy the wood, right? But you repair the pot, right? So this is what he says. “And what he repairs in something else, according to Rabbi Shimon, is not considered, for it is labor not needed for its own sake, except because destructive action in wounding and kindling is liable, as stated later.” So once again you see that according to Rashi, Rabbi Shimon’s idea that labor not needed for its own sake is exempt means that you are really making repair in something else. Here you are destructive, and the repair in something else is not counted as repair.

Okay. Let me just finish with this. Tosafot asked on Rashi also from the case of sewing, because there too he would rather it had not come to him. He would have wanted it not to tear at all when he sews. So why is that not labor not needed for its own sake?

So the Meiri says: this case is different, because since you need to sew or to lance the abscess, it is not considered a labor of removal. Why not? That is exactly what Tosafot says. It is precisely a labor of removal, because after all he would rather it had not come to him. So what are you saying? He comes to resolve Tosafot’s difficulty on Rashi. He wants to explain why, according to Rashi, sewing is not labor not needed for its own sake, but opening something not made for putting in and taking out, or trapping a snake, and things like that—those are labor not needed for its own sake. Why? What is the difference? He says: because that is removal.

Tosafot says this too is removal. That was exactly Tosafot’s question. What do you mean “it’s removal”? That is what Tosafot asked. You tell me that labor not needed for its own sake is a labor of removal. Tosafot says: by your definitions, every labor is removal. So all labors would always be labor not needed for their own sake. What kind of answer is that? What did the Meiri answer here?

What he meant to answer is exactly what I said before. He basically wants to say: it is not considered a labor of removal—that is the point. “He would rather it had not come to him” is only an introduction to the criterion of labor of removal. Right, “he would rather it had not come to him” also applies in sewing. I would be glad if it had not torn at all, and then I would not have needed to sew it. Right? So there too “he would rather it had not come to him” applies.

The Meiri says yes, but Rashi’s emphasis is not on “he would rather it had not come to him,” but on its being a labor of removal—on it being warding off a lion. Fine? And that truly does not apply to sewing. Why? Because in sewing you are repairing an existing state; you are not preventing. Because if you were doing something to prevent the garment from tearing, then it really would be labor not needed for its own sake. But when you sew a garment that has already torn, that is a labor of repair, a labor that is needed for its own sake. And that is what the Meiri is basically saying here. He says the focus is on labor of removal, not on “he would rather it had not come to him.” “He would rather it had not come to him” is only the introduction to labor of removal.

All right, let’s stop here, because I feel it’s already getting to be too much.