חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם

Study and Halachic Rulings – Lesson 26

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This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • [0:00] Introduction to the topic of learning and first-order halakhic ruling
  • [1:25] The example of a condition in the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven
  • [4:56] The rational analysis of a conditional contract
  • [7:26] The legal assumption of no contractual limitations
  • [15:26] Intellectual property and the problem of owning an idea
  • [22:45] Situmta — acquisition through communal custom
  • [27:16] Expanding the understanding of the concept of condition and its context
  • [30:15] The concept of reality and reverse causality
  • [31:52] Betrothal after thirty days — why it doesn’t work
  • [33:05] The second problem — his act of acquisition has expired
  • [42:13] Talmud: the act stands, the condition is void
  • [55:51] Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s claim — a new mechanism of condition

Summary

General Overview

The text defines first-order halakhic ruling and learning as a mode of decision-making grounded in a priori conceptual analysis, placing concepts within a broader context, and deriving conclusions that are not merely a matter of sorting precedents or “counting heads.” It demonstrates this through the laws of conditions derived from the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven, and by comparison to general law argues that in Jewish law there are “physical” limitations on legal mechanisms even where there is desire and agreement, because halakhic principles are understood as expressions of an ontic reality and not merely convention. On that basis, it reinterprets the structure of the biblical passage, the need for a Torah innovation to make conditions possible, and the logic behind the rules for formulating conditions and the rule that “the condition is void but the act remains valid,” while drawing on sources such as Ran, Rosh, Rabbi Shimon Shkop, Beit Yishai, and Tosafot and Ritva.

First-Order Halakhic Ruling and Learning

First-order halakhic ruling rests on defining concepts, a priori analysis, and placing Jewish law within a broad context that also leads to practical decision-making. This kind of ruling derives conclusions from rationale, concepts, and principles, and not only from precedents, sorting opinions, or deciding by majority. Earlier examples included the relationship between prohibition and positive commandment, redeeming captives, and civil courts, and here another example is given to illustrate the method.

The Passage of the Tribes of Gad and Reuven as the Source for the Laws of Conditions

The laws of conditions are derived in the Talmud and by the medieval authorities (Rishonim) from the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven, where Moses stipulates that if they cross over and participate in the fighting in the Land of Israel, they will receive an inheritance east of the Jordan; and if not, they will not receive it. Moses is not troubled by the fact that they do not want to enter the Land, but he is very troubled by their failure to participate in the fighting, and the speaker humorously presents this as a difficulty in “placing” Moses in party-political terms. He argues that the structure of the passage contains many repetitions that seem unnecessary, and through analysis of the passage he draws a distinction between the rationale of the parties and the legal implementation of that rationale through a condition.

Rationale versus Legal Implementation, and Contract as an Interpretive Model

The passage first presents the interests of the parties and their rationale, and then the legal method of implementation through a double condition, similar to the structure of a legal contract in which there are introductory “whereas” clauses followed by the operative mechanism. The lawyer’s role is both to clarify what the parties want and to formulate a legal tool that will realize those wishes in the best possible way. The speaker concludes that since the Torah presents both the rationale and the conditional clause, it assumes that without an explicit innovation it would not have been obvious that one can implement a rationale through a condition.

The Difference Between General Law and Jewish Law: Convention versus “Physical” Limitation

In general law, a condition seems obvious as part of freedom of contract, and the working assumption is that a contract is valid if it accurately reflects the will of the parties and is not invalidated for reasons such as public policy or mandatory legal provisions. Mandatory provisions can be explained either as protecting a weaker party who did not truly consent, or as serving the state’s interest in not bearing future costs, but they do not amount to a principled rejection of contractual mechanisms as such. In Jewish law, by contrast, it is possible that a legal mechanism is impossible in itself—not because of the parties’ wishes and not because of public interest, but because there is no “mechanism” capable of taking effect. The speaker compares this to the laws of physics that simply do not allow a person to fly.

Limitations on Acquisition in Jewish Law: A Thing Without Substance and Something Not Yet in the World

The speaker connects the question of conditions to a broader structure of halakhic limitations, such as the absence of ownership over a thing without substance and the inability of acquisition to take effect on something not yet in existence. He explains that in these cases, even if there is full agreement, payment, and a clear contract, Jewish law does not recognize the legal effect because there is nothing for the effect to attach to, or because the thing does not yet exist in reality. He presents this as the basis for the halakhic difficulty regarding intellectual property and copyright, since an idea is abstract and therefore resembles “a thing without substance.”

Intellectual Property and Utility in General Law versus Boundaries in Jewish Law

In general law, ownership is treated as a convention set by the legislator, so if one decides to recognize copyright, then ownership exists even without any metaphysical anchor. Even when a “metaphysical” position is presented—that there is no ownership over a non-material thing—the speaker argues that in practice it is barely used, and the dominant view is utilitarian. Halakhic decisors also see benefit in granting rights to creators, but in his view utility is not enough if the halakhic mechanism itself does not allow legal effect to attach to an abstract entity.

An Ontic Meta-Halakhic Conception and Its Implications

The speaker presents the claim that Jewish law contains a meta-halakhic conception according to which halakhic principles express an ontic reality and not merely the normative agreement of a society or legislature. Ownership is understood as a reality from which normative consequences follow, such as prohibiting use by others and imposing financial liability, whereas in general law “ownership” is a legal-social determination. From such an ontic conception, it follows naturally that there are “laws of physics” governing legal effects, and therefore the will of the parties cannot always create halakhic reality.

Rabbi Shimon Shkop and Jurisprudence as Facts

The speaker notes that in his view Rabbi Shimon Shkop supports the ontic conception in several places, and emphasizes that this fits with the idea that the “meta-system of jurisprudence” consists of facts and is not a Torah-dependent innovation. He explains that agreements and speech can create a new legal effect, as with vows and acquisitions, but the rules that allow or prevent the creation of legal effects are a prior given, an existing “physics.” He presents this as a distinction between creating a new reality and the fundamental legality that defines what is possible in the first place.

Situmta, Commercial Custom, and Finality of Intent

The text introduces the concept of situmta as a mechanism by which merchants’ custom creates binding legal force, such as the phrase “mazal u-verakhah” among diamond dealers, and it is even described as Torah-level according to most views. It cites the Rosh, who says that situmta does not help regarding something not yet in existence, because situmta solves a problem of finality of intent and not a problem of whether legal effect is possible at all. This is presented as further evidence that some halakhic limitations are not matters of desire or agreement, but of the capacity for legal effect.

The Need for a Torah Innovation for Conditions: Reverse Causality and “His Acquisition Has Expired”

The speaker presents two problems that explain why, without a Torah innovation, one could not have made a condition: the problem of reverse causality in time, in which a future event changes a legal effect that has already taken place, and the problem of “his act of acquisition has expired,” attributed to Ran in tractate Nedarim 28. He explains that according to Ran, one cannot perform an act of acquisition now that will take effect a week later, because the act has already “died” and cannot generate a delayed legal effect, and he brings the example of “be betrothed to me after thirty days” as something that does not work in principle. He argues that in a conventional legal world there is no obstacle to agreeing to a future legal effect, but in Jewish law the ontic conception creates an essential difficulty, and therefore a Torah innovation is required in order to make conditions possible.

Beit Yishai and Rabbi Shlomo Fischer: A Continuing Mechanism That Prevents “His Acquisition Has Expired”

Beit Yishai by Rabbi Shlomo Fischer, section 35, is cited as explaining that making a condition creates a power that accompanies the legal effect over time, so that the act is not “used up” until the condition is either fulfilled or not fulfilled. The explanation uses mystical language of “a kind of influencing force” that keeps the legal effect suspended and pending. The speaker emphasizes that a Torah innovation is still needed to say that such a mechanism is possible in the first place.

The Rules of Conditions and “The Condition Is Void but the Act Remains Valid”

The text lists seven requirements for the proper formulation of a valid condition: a double condition, positive before negative, the condition before the act, something within one’s power to fulfill, not stipulating against what is written in the Torah, the condition and the act concerning the same matter, and something that can be done through an agent. When a condition is not formulated properly or includes a flaw such as stipulating against what is written in the Torah, the rule applies that “the condition is void but the act remains valid.” The speaker illustrates this with the case in tractate Kiddushin, “on condition that you have no claim on me for food, clothing, and conjugal rights,” where according to Rabbi Meir the condition is void and the betrothal takes effect together with the obligations. He presents the medieval authorities’ question in tractate Ketubot 56: how is this possible, if it is clear that the man did not want the betrothal under such terms?

The Answers of the Medieval Authorities: Rabbeinu Tam versus Ri in Tosafot

Rabbeinu Tam is presented as saying that stipulating against what is written in the Torah is similar to making an unserious condition, like something that is not within one’s power to fulfill, and therefore the person intended to effect the betrothal in any case, and the condition does not express real intent. The speaker notes that Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman in Kovetz Shiurim rejects this explanation as implausible. Ri in Tosafot adopts an approach according to which, even if the person does not want the result, the act takes effect, and the defect lies only in the mechanism of uprooting that the condition was supposed to create. Therefore, if the condition is not valid, there is no power of uprooting, and the original legal effect remains in place.

Two Understandings of the Torah’s Innovation Regarding Conditions: Leniency or Stringency

The speaker presents two ways to understand the Torah’s innovation in the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven: either the Torah innovated the very possibility of making a condition, and permitted it only when formulated properly; or making a condition is self-evident, and the Torah innovated stringently that only a properly formulated condition is effective. He argues that the second possibility requires explaining why requirements such as a double condition are necessary to clarify intention, even though the intention is clear without them as well. He presents the dispute as connected to the question of how the mechanism of condition operates conceptually.

Rabbi Shimon Shkop: Retroactive Clarification versus From Now On, Retroactively

Rabbi Shimon Shkop, in the essay on conditions at the end of his novellae to tractate Gittin, is presented as distinguishing between two conceptions of condition: retroactive clarification, in which fulfillment of the condition merely reveals information that was true from the outset; and “from now on, retroactively,” in which a future event causally uproots a legal effect that had already taken place in the past. The speaker gives the example of later learning about a birth in order to illustrate retroactive clarification, and connects this also to permitting a woman to remarry on the basis that there was no real consent in a case where a groom disappeared, where the religious court merely clarified that there had never been consent from the outset. He notes that Rabbi Shimon brings proofs from the medieval authorities for the second conception, which requires a genuine Torah innovation because it includes causal uprooting backward in time.

Condition versus Mistaken Transaction and “On This Understanding”

The text distinguishes between a mistaken transaction, where the relevant fact existed at the time of the transaction but the party did not know it, and “on this understanding,” where a future event changes the person’s willingness and therefore resembles a condition. The speaker explains that a mistaken transaction does not need the laws of conditions, because it is simply lack of consent, whereas “on this understanding” resembles the structure of a condition. He presents this as background to the question of why a condition is not always merely retroactive clarification, and why a formal system of rules is needed.

Explaining “The Condition Is Void but the Act Remains Valid” Through an Ontic Conception and a Mechanism of Uprooting

The speaker explains that according to the conception in which a condition operates as a mechanism of uprooting “from now on, retroactively,” the initial legal effect takes place in any case, and only the condition creates a power that may uproot it. Proper formulation is what establishes that power of uprooting, and if there is no proper formulation, the power is not created, and therefore the legal effect remains unchanged and the condition is void. In this way, one can explain how a result may emerge that does not match the rationale of the parties, but does match the act they performed within the constraints of halakhic implementation.

The Gap Between Rationale and Contract as a Halakhic Characteristic, and Placing Things in Context

The text argues that in Jewish law there can be a gap between what the parties want and what halakhic mechanisms are capable of implementing, and therefore rationale alone is not enough. Understanding the biblical passage as presenting first the rationale and then the condition teaches that the Torah is teaching that legal implementation requires a specific mechanism, and not every desire is implementable. The speaker concludes that placing the laws of conditions in the context of something not yet in existence, a thing without substance, intellectual property, and situmta creates a single broader move in which the conceptual discussions spread out as one coherent conceptual system and not as a disconnected collection of details.

Questions from the Audience: Interpreting a Condition in a Contract and the Place of the Rationale

A question is asked about a condition in a transaction that depends on obtaining financing, and the speaker replies that everything depends on interpreting the condition and on whether the condition reflects the interest of one party or of both. He notes that to make this clear it is important to write the rationale at the beginning of the contract. Another question is asked about “after thirty days” and Maimonides, and the speaker says he will check, and a reference is directed to him: Laws of Marriage, chapter 7, halakhah 10.

Autonomy and “The Withdrawal of the Name from the World”

At the end, a question is asked about the connection between “the withdrawal of the Name from the world” and the demand for autonomy, by analogy to a child growing up and parents expecting independence. The speaker replies that the connection is clear according to the definition, and that the more the Holy One, blessed be He, “withdraws,” the more independently the human being acts; and in the wilderness there was less expectation of autonomy because of dependence. The conversation closes with the blessing, “Shabbat shalom, good night.”

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’re in the topic of learning and halakhic ruling, and I’m now talking about first-order halakhic ruling, first-order learning, which has several components to it. One component is a priori analysis, conceptual analysis—that is, defining concepts, placing the issue within some broader context, and of course in the end also ruling, meaning drawing conclusions from considerations like these too: conceptual analysis, a priori analysis, and context, and not only relying on precedents and sorting opinions or counting heads, you know, this way and that way, for and against. So I want to continue a bit with the examples I brought. I spoke a bit about the relationship between a prohibition and a positive commandment, we talked a bit about redeeming captives, about several archaic examples, several examples of the importance of all these characteristics that I’m currently calling first-order halakhic ruling and learning. So I want to bring a few more examples to illustrate this better. The first example, which I’m also somehow discussing now in a parallel series, so I’ll do it really—hopefully—briefly, is the subject of conditions. And this is a topic that, all in all, is dealt with a lot in the yeshivot, a very conceptual, dense, saturated topic; a lot of work has been done on it, and דווקא because of that I want to sharpen what is still missing, what is still harder to find in conceptual Torah-study texts. Because hints you can always find in all kinds of places, but they don’t really grab the bull by the horns. So the topic of conditions is basically a topic that the Talmud and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) assume is learned from the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven. And there we know that the tribe of Gad wanted to receive an inheritance beyond the Jordan, and Moses our teacher made a condition with them: if they cross over and participate in the fighting in the Land of Israel, then they will receive the inheritance on the eastern side of the Jordan. If they do not participate in the fighting, then they will not receive it. I noted there at the beginning of the column—those are the last two columns I wrote—that from the negotiation between Moses and Gad and Reuven you can see that what did not bother him was that they didn’t want to enter the Land, but rather wanted to receive an inheritance east of the Jordan. Meaning, he wasn’t a Zionist. But on the other hand, it very much did bother him that they weren’t participating in the fighting, and in that sense he also wasn’t Haredi. So it’s a bit hard to place Moses our teacher—he probably belonged to my party. Each of us, of course, drafts him into his own party. Anyway, to our matter, jokes aside, the laws of conditions are learned from the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven. And both in the columns and in the series I’m speaking in, I wrote that when you examine the passage itself—I did a kind of Hebrew Bible analysis, which isn’t usually my thing—even from analysis of the passage itself you can see that the passage comes to teach us this idea of conditions. Because the passage repeats several times the statements of Moses and of the tribe of Gad, and afterward Moses turns to the people of Israel and makes the condition with them, and afterward it says that he also carried it out; this whole thing repeats itself three or four times, and seemingly these repetitions are unnecessary. And I tried to show, from analysis of the passage, that in fact the concept of condition appears only once. In all the other contexts it’s not really a condition. So what is it? There is actually—again, I won’t go into the whole passage now, and you can see it in the last two columns if you want. At the beginning, in the first part of the passage, the rationale is presented. The rationale is what the two sides want to achieve. In every legal contract we’re usually accustomed to writing: whereas Reuven wants such-and-such, and whereas Shimon wants such-and-such, they have therefore decided to enter into a contract, and such-and-such are the terms of the contract. Meaning, this one undertakes this, that one undertakes that, these are the sanctions, and then the contract comes. Meaning, first there is a rationale, which is the interests of the parties, and afterward the legal implementation. Meaning, to establish a contract that creates a legal implementation of the parties’ wishes. Okay? That’s basically what also appears in this passage here. There is the rationale—what each side wanted to achieve—and afterward there is the condition, where the condition is the legal way to implement that rationale. Meaning, if we can create a legal contract that expresses what the two parties want, yes, that brings the wishes of the two parties into practice, and if so, then both parties sign that contract. The purpose of a lawyer who drafts a contract is to try, first, to clarify in the best possible way what both parties want, and second, to formulate it in such a way that those wishes will also be implemented in the best possible way.

[Speaker B] That’s basically—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the goal, that’s basically the role of the lawyer drafting the contract. I can’t hear. Is someone commenting here? I’ll mute. You can interrupt again afterward. So the structure of the passage—the very fact that the Torah first writes the rationale and then writes the contract itself, yes, Moses our teacher’s condition, that double condition: if you cross, you receive; if you don’t cross, you don’t receive—apparently tells us that the Torah wants to say that this is how one implements this kind of wish, interest, rational purpose of both parties. Meaning, the Torah is basically telling us, or coming to innovate for us, the way by which one can implement this kind of wish on both sides. And if I continue one step further, this basically means that the Torah probably assumes that it needs to innovate this. Meaning, that if it had not innovated it, I would not have known it. Now that’s a very interesting point, because in the regular legal conception, the notion of a condition is self-evident. Of course you can make conditions. And why? Because in the final analysis, a condition simply expresses what each of the parties wants, and a contract, by its very essence, its whole role is simply to verify or express what each of the parties wants and to formulate legally how to achieve it. The legal assumption, as far as I understand at least—again, I’m not a lawyer, but as far as I understand—the legal assumption is basically that there are no real legal limitations on contracts. Meaning, if the contract succeeds in expressing accurately what both parties want, and it implements it in a way that fits their wishes—that is, it expresses their wishes and implements their wishes in the optimal way—then the contract is valid. The legal system has nothing to say about that. It’s not that if there is—let me phrase it differently—there cannot be a situation where there is a contract that both sides want, and the legal system will say, no, no, there is no such contract, you can’t do that. Meaning, the law doesn’t allow it—not because the parties didn’t agree. Now of course, even in the legal world there are what are called mandatory stipulations, meaning there are dictates of the legislature or of the legal system that do not allow the parties to a contract to do everything. For example, you cannot sign a contract that violates an employee’s basic rights. Meaning, you can’t say the employee comes in but won’t receive a pension. He agrees, he signed. The employer signed and the employee signed, but the law doesn’t allow it. Even if you signed and both parties agreed, the law doesn’t allow it. But what the law does not allow is, as I understand it, for one of two reasons. Either because it claims that the employee didn’t really, truly agree to it. The fact that he agreed was simply under pressure, but in truth the legislator stands in for the employee and says that he did not really agree to waive his basic rights. Or the state says: what do you mean, he’s waiving the pension? Then who will support him in retirement—me? Meaning, he’ll ask me for the money because he’ll have no income. I’m not prepared. And since I’m the deep pocket here—meaning, if he has no money, he’ll come to me—therefore I am not prepared to allow the signing of such contracts. Fine, you can understand it this way or that way, these mandatory requirements—these are the things you cannot stipulate away; they’re mandatory requirements of the law. But there is no principled problem, from the standpoint of the legal mechanism, of saying: such a mechanism the law does not allow—simply, it cannot be implemented—even though both of you want it and nobody is bothered by it and it expresses well what you want, the contract is not valid. As far as I know, there is no such thing in the regular legal world. No, public policy—again, that’s the same issue as I said earlier, it’s very similar to the mandatory issue in labor law. I’m talking about a situation where the legal system does not recognize this type of mechanism, not because it has some interest not to permit such a contract—that certainly exists. Rather, I’m talking about: no, it simply cannot be done. It’s impossible. There are no such things in law, I think. In Jewish law there are. The example of conditions is an excellent example. Because the example of conditions is basically telling us—and I’ll show this in a moment—that Jewish law assumes that if there had not been an innovation in the passage of the tribes of Gad and Reuven that one can make a condition, then one could not have made a condition. Meaning—what? In every legal system in the world it’s obvious that you can make conditions; there is no system that doesn’t allow that. So why, in Jewish law, is there a need for a Torah innovation, without which I would not have thought that one could make conditions? There’s something here that calls for explanation. This is, for example, the kind of question that at least not in this form people ask in the study halls, in the conceptual Torah world. Or, in the context in which I brought this earlier, I actually did it more broadly and said: basically what you see here is that in the halakhic legal world, unlike general law, there are certain things that are not possible in contract law. Not possible not because it does not express the parties’ wishes, or because it contradicts public policy, or because the parties didn’t really agree, or something like that. Rather because the legal system can’t—there is no such mechanism. There is no mechanism that can do this even though you very much want it and everything is fine and it’s a legitimate wish and everything is excellent. But there is no such mechanism. The physics of law simply doesn’t allow it. It’s like I really want to fly through the air, but what can I do—I can’t. Not because I don’t want to, I very much want to; it also fits my interests, everything is true. But there are laws of physics, and the laws of physics say I cannot fly through the air. In that sense, Jewish law apparently—as I understand from here—basically sees itself, or the legal principles, in a certain sense like laws of physics. Meaning, there are things the laws simply don’t allow you to implement even though both parties want it and it doesn’t bother anyone and everything is fine. But it can’t be done, what can you do.

[Speaker B] Didn’t the Rabbi speak about this, no? That there’s a dispute there among the judges whether law is ontological or whether it’s something real in the matter—I think it was about intellectual property?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, I’m getting to that in a moment. That’s true to an extent, partially. The claim is basically that the world—I’m trying to show you, again, this is only an example, I’m not going into all the details of this topic. I’m trying to show you what the meaning of first-order analysis is. What is missing in the regular conceptual treatment of this topic, which deals with these issues, but doesn’t formulate them in this way. Meaning, you don’t ask yourself: wait a second, why in the regular legal system can you make any contract you want as long as it’s clearly formulated, doesn’t violate public policy, etc., yes, other things—and it implements what the parties want—so what’s the problem? Why should the legislator care what this contract contains? There’s no problem, there’s no legal limitation on contracts. And in Jewish law there is. And I ask myself: wait, what does that say about Jewish law as compared to a legal system? That’s not a standard question in the conceptual Torah world, but I think it’s a very important question. It’s a very important question not only on the general intellectual level, but because it also projects onto—or gives a better understanding of—the Jewish law itself. Meaning, it enriches the conceptual study, not only gives me some external perspective or theory or comparative law or things like that, but the conceptual study itself becomes sharper and clearer if we make these comparisons. I’ll now show you what I mean. Look, first of all, once I ask the question in this way, then you’ll see that it connects for me to other topics. For example, I see that in the halakhic world there is no ownership of a thing without substance. Now why? What’s the problem? If all the parties agree that you will be the owner, everything is fine. Why shouldn’t there be ownership? Because ownership has nothing to take effect on, and it is a thing without substance, and therefore Jewish law does not recognize ownership over a thing without substance. Or another example: something not yet in the world. Acquisition of something not yet in existence does not take effect. Why? If the seller agrees to sell me the fruits of the palm tree and I want to buy the fruits of the palm tree, I paid him one hundred shekels, we signed a contract that when the fruits come out—they’re mine. No, it doesn’t work, because a person cannot transfer ownership of something not yet in existence. Why not? Clearly both parties want this, this contract bothers no one, it doesn’t violate public policy or anything. It’s simply a legal limitation. On the legal level, in halakhic law, yes, on the legal level, these things have nothing for the legal effect to attach to, and therefore one cannot make such a contract. Now the question is why? What stands behind this? So you mentioned intellectual property before, maybe I’ll bring that in as well. One of the problems in the halakhic world is that there is a great deal of perplexity about intellectual property, copyrights, and it’s because of this. Because the claim is that basically we are dealing with a thing without substance. An idea is not an object. An idea is something abstract. There is no ownership over something abstract. Now in the legal world they’re not so troubled by this question, because in the legal world the law or legal rules are conventions. Meaning, if we agree that there is ownership over such a thing, then there will be ownership over such a thing. It’s all in our hands. Either we agree or we don’t agree. Whatever the legislator determines. So if the legislator determines that there is—and there is no reason he shouldn’t determine that—then there is. If two parties make a contract between themselves and grant a right over intellectual property, then even without the legislator determining it, it will take effect, because both parties agreed; so who needs to interfere with them? Why should anyone interfere if both parties agreed? It’s true that in lectures or theoretical articles, when people present the various positions regarding intellectual property, they often also present the ontic conception, the metaphysical conception, let’s call it that, that there is no ownership of intellectual property because it is not something tangible and therefore ownership cannot apply to it. But that’s lip service. No one really works with that, and therefore indeed in the law of the last generation they’ve entirely moved away from it; there’s no trace left of that conception. The conception in the end is a utilitarian conception. Is it useful to give a person ownership over the products of his spirit, yes, over his ideas, or is it not useful? And the assumption is that it is useful, and therefore there will be ownership, because we determined that there is ownership. Now halakhic decisors also think that it is useful. They also understand that it is very good to give rights to a person who creates a work, because that gives him motivation to produce that work for the benefit of the public as a whole. But for the halakhic decisors, even though they understand that it is useful, that is not enough for them. Because it is impossible—so what if it is useful? It still can’t go through. Why not? So my claim—and I’ve said this in several places, also in previous series and in articles, and so on—is that unlike the regular legal system, in Jewish law there is some kind of meta-halakhic conception saying that the principles of Jewish law are an expression of some reality. They are not conventions, they are not agreements by the Torah or by the sages or by the public to set ownership this way or set ownership that way. When I say that you own something, I am basically making a claim that there is something in reality itself; this is something ontic. And it has legal expression: since you are the owner, it follows that I am forbidden to use it and you are permitted to use it, and one who damages or steals must pay, and so on—that’s all consequences. In the legal world, they do not treat the fact that you are the owner as a statement about reality; it is a legal determination, it is a convention. The public recognizes that the rights over this object are yours, and therefore others may not harm it. From the standpoint of Jewish law, it is a reality that this object is yours, and from that the normative consequences are derived, the halakhic instructions. And therefore, if I grasp this as something metaphysical, ontic, then it certainly follows naturally that reality has its own laws; there are realities that cannot be created even though I want them. When you look with a conventional lens, where everything is agreements, then there is no problem: if both of us agreed and it is all clear what we agreed to, then the agreement is valid—what else could interfere with that? But in Jewish law I need to create some sort of meta-legal reality. And it may be that there are laws of physics, yes, that say such a reality cannot be created, what can you do—it contradicts the laws of spiritual, meta-legal physics, and therefore such a reality cannot be created even though both parties want it and it is clear what they want and everything is true. Now notice that this insight—you can agree or disagree—I brought proofs, I think Rabbi Shimon Shkop strongly supports such a conception in several places in his writings, and I think it is fairly clear that this is how Jewish law understands itself, and it is very clear that this is different from legal systems, certainly contemporary ones; once it was more so, but today completely. It fits very well—on the contrary. His claim that the meta-system of jurisprudence, what he calls it, is some kind of reality—it’s not something the Torah innovated, and it exists even if the Torah had said nothing about it.

[Speaker B] So then it’s not the jurisprudence of human beings, as it were?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. By jurisprudence he means those are the facts. And it could be that human agreement can also create a fact, just as when I make a vow, I create the legal effect of a vow on the object. Agreements or statements can create reality; it’s not certain that the reality has existed since the six days of creation. Of course not. When I perform acquisitions, then this object changes from mine to yours; it wasn’t yours since the six days of creation. I have now created a legal effect. How did I create that legal effect? By speech or by an act, it doesn’t matter. Meaning, legal effects or realities of this kind can also be created; it’s not only reality that is simply given to us. But the rules, the physics of the matter—that is given. That exists before the Torah. And if you had done this, it would have created that reality even if the Torah had not written anything about it, because that is the reality. On the contrary, this statement of Rabbi Shimon fits very well with the metaphysical, ontic conception. So therefore, the claim basically is that when you look at these examples with a broader lens, placing them in some broader context, suddenly I see that the conceptual discussions about the laws of conditions and about various other things reflect a much broader conception of how Jewish law understands itself, and in that it differs from other legal systems. Now this kind of insight is a modern kind of insight, meaning it does not exist in the conceptual tradition; this is not the kind of perspective you’ll find there. They do not ask these questions, and that stems from the fact that there is no conceptual and a priori analysis, and consequently there is also no placing things in context. The moment you do not do conceptual and a priori analysis—once you do conceptual analysis, you suddenly understand that there is something here more abstract and general than the particular example you’re looking at, and then naturally it immediately connects to further contexts. But if you speak only about this particular example, trying to understand what it says and so on, then many times it won’t connect for you to broader contexts. Therefore conceptual and a priori analysis often find expression in the fact that I place things within a context. I suddenly discover that there is some more general perspective here, of which this is only one example. So here, for instance, I see that there are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who say—

[Speaker B] that there’s a concept of situmta.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Situmta is merchants’ custom. Meaning, yes—the example they always bring is “mazal u-verakhah” among diamond dealers. When they shake hands and say “mazal u-verakhah,” the acquisition takes effect, even though it’s only speech. A handshake maybe not, but saying “mazal u-verakhah” is only speech. But Jewish law recognizes that as acquisition. Why? Because in the diamond-dealing community it is accepted to regard such a thing as acquisition, as something binding. And similarly in various contexts. And therefore Jewish law basically recognizes situmta, an acquisition whose basis is not in the Torah or in some objective source, but rather in the agreement of some community. And simply speaking, according to most views, this is Torah-level, not rabbinic. It is law from the strict letter of the law that recognizes such mechanisms as valid mechanisms. But for example, the Rosh writes that regarding something not yet in existence, situmta does not help. Meaning, if there were a community that agreed that one can transfer ownership of something not yet in existence, it still would not be valid; it still would not be possible to transfer it. Why? Because in all the places where situmta helps, it is in places where what was lacking was finality of intent on the part of the parties, and once there is a custom that this thing is valid, then it is clear to me that the parties had final intent. Meaning, when someone says, “I agree with you to sell you this diamond,” if there were no merchants’ custom that “mazal u-verakhah” finalizes the acquisition, I would say maybe he didn’t really fully intend it; he just said it. He said it—so what? Do an act; the act expresses finality of intent. Once in the merchants’ community saying “mazal u-verakhah” is accepted as finalizing the matter, then that too expresses finality of intent. So if a person said “mazal u-verakhah,” apparently they really did fully intend to transfer ownership of this diamond. Therefore situmta acquisition helps by telling me that in this act of acquisition there is finality of intent. What?

[Speaker B] There’s a Rabbi Chaim, if I remember—there’s a Rabbi—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Chaim—

[Speaker B] who says that the act of acquisition itself is what transfers ownership, and the finality of intent is only a condition for the act of acquisition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not going into that now; it’s an analysis discussed by many later authorities (Acharonim). The question is whether the act itself… maybe in a moment I’ll come back to it as a side note. If anyone wants, in Pri Moshe there’s a discussion of the laws of acquisition by Segal, whom I knew in Bnei Brak, and there he goes into this at great length. In any case, the Rosh writes that with regard to something that has not yet come into the world, situmta will not help. Why not? Because with something that has not yet come into the world, the inability to transfer ownership does not stem from a lack of settled intent. That’s not the problem. Even if the parties have fully resolved in their minds to transfer ownership of the dates of the palm tree when they come, still it is not acquired. The problem is not settled intent. So if that’s not the problem, then what is the problem? The problem is simply that there is nothing there to transfer. It doesn’t exist in the world. I cannot impose a legal status of ownership when I don’t have the thing to which I am applying that legal status. It doesn’t exist. So how can I apply the legal status? Therefore, in this case there is a legal limitation. I cannot transfer ownership of such things not because the two sides don’t want to. They do want to; there is full settled intent. But there is no legal mechanism that implements it. That is basically the claim. And therefore situmta will not help with such a thing. Situmta helps when what is lacking is settled intent. If there is such a commercial custom, then apparently there is settled intent as well. But where the problem is a legal limitation, situmta will not help. The same thing applies to something that has no substance. The reason it cannot be acquired is not because of settled intent, but because there is nothing there to acquire; it is not a tangible thing. So what will situmta help? Situmta will not help. Situmta does not turn black into white. So this is an indication that there are things in Jewish law that express metaphysical facts, ontology, and not just conventions, not just normative agreements about what is permitted and forbidden and what belongs to whom and so on. Now from this perspective I return to condition. Now I say: look, once I put this in a broader context, suddenly I understand the concept of condition much better. Because basically, why did I ask earlier why in ordinary legal systems it is obvious that you can make conditions? Two parties to a contract can stipulate whatever conditions they want, so long as the transaction is formulated explicitly, matches the parties’ intentions, and does not harm anyone else; let them do what they want, there is freedom of contract. In Jewish law, no. If there were no novel teaching in the passage of Gad and the children of Reuben, we would think that you cannot stipulate conditions. Why? Because in Jewish law there are legal limitations. Even if the parties very much want it, the question is whether on the meta-halakhic, ontic, metaphysical level, it is really possible to create this reality. It could be that the laws of physics, so to speak, the spiritual ones, do not allow this reality to be created. So what difference does it make if both parties want it? What is the problem? Why really, here, in the case of something that has not yet come into the world or something with no substance, did I explain what the problem is? The problem is that there is no thing here; there is nothing for the legal status to rest on, because the thing does not exist. Or it has no substance, or it will only come in the future, so there is nothing for the legal status to rest on. So there the problem is this kind of legal physics. What is the problem with condition? Quite similar. Condition can also be formulated in two ways. One type, one problem, is the problem of reverse causality in time. You want a future event to change the present state. Right? Suppose you divorce a woman on condition that she not drink wine. So if she drank wine, then the divorce is uprooted, so she is not divorced. If she did not drink wine, then she is divorced. So it turns out that the future event changes the present state. Now the principle of causality seems to require that the cause appear or occur before the effect. It cannot be that a certain event causes things at a time prior to itself. The cause has to appear before the effect. In our case that does not happen. Now why does this not bother ordinary legal systems? Because they do not think that something real is happening. There is no cause producing an effect here. It is just a legal convention. If you say such a thing, then she will be divorced in this case and not divorced in that case. If both sides agree and everything is fine and it harms no one, peace be upon everyone, what is the problem? Why shouldn’t it take effect? This is not physics. In physics, the cause cannot appear after the effect, but there it is a convention. If we agree and the legislator recognizes it and there is no issue, both sides agree, everything is fine, what is the problem? Why shouldn’t it take effect? In the halakhic world… because that is not enough. Even if both sides agree and everything is formulated precisely as they want, it still may be impossible to do it. Why? Because the claim is that the legal status of divorce or ownership or any legal status we are creating here is a kind of reality, and you cannot produce a reality on the basis of a cause that will appear only later. Therefore it is impossible to make a condition were it not for the Torah’s novel teaching. That is one reason, the reason of reverse causality in time. One explanation, one reason. One explanation is that there is reverse causality in time here. A second explanation is the concept called “his act of acquisition has expired.” The source is the Ran in Nedarim 28. The Ran says there that if a person performs an act of acquisition now—say I sell you a certain book by pulling it, we agree between ourselves, you paid me, and now I say okay, acquire the book, so you pull the book and acquire it. What happens if we agree that the acquisition will take effect in a week? Pull the book now, we’ll go home, and in a week the book will be yours. In the meantime it remains mine. The Ran says you cannot do such a thing. His act of acquisition has expired. What does that mean? In a week you want the book suddenly to switch from my property to yours. How will that miracle happen in a week? The action that imposed that legal status of ownership was done today. That action is no longer in the world; it was done a week earlier and is dead. It has expired, it no longer exists. So how can this book suddenly, after a week, jump from being mine to being yours? For such a thing to happen there must be an action that causally brings it about. If the action was done and has already passed from the world, then the effect cannot suddenly appear after a week or after a year out of nowhere, by some hocus-pocus.

[Speaker B] “Be betrothed to me after thirty days”? “Be betrothed to me after thirty days.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work because his act of acquisition has expired.

[Speaker B] But there’s a Mishnah, no?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “From now and after thirty days”—and that’s a Talmudic discussion in Kiddushin 60, very complicated, why it nevertheless works, because the claim is that it is a continuing act. But in principle, “be betrothed in thirty days” does not work. She is not betrothed. So what happens is… I mean, it’s possible…

[Speaker B] Maybe you can see it as a condition, as though “after thirty days” is just the condition? No, condition is from the passage of conditions.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m speaking now before the Torah introduced the whole passage of conditions. So I’m saying: I do an action now and I want the legal effect to appear in a month. There is no such thing, because his act of acquisition has expired.

[Speaker B] But does the Rabbi understand that what’s written in Kiddushin, “after thirty days,” means only the condition—that thirty days is the condition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I don’t understand it that way. What is written in Kiddushin is that it does not take effect. It’s not a condition. If you make it into a condition, then it can take effect, and that is exactly the Torah’s novelty. If you simply say it will take effect in thirty days, that won’t help me; she is not betrothed. The second problem with conditions, were it not for the Torah’s novel teaching, is that his act of acquisition has expired. What do I want? I want to do an act of divorce now, and in thirty days or a year or whenever the condition is fulfilled, then suddenly it will take effect. There is no such thing. In a year the act itself is no longer in the world; it has expired. It cannot work. What lies behind this problem of “his act of acquisition has expired”? Again, the ontic view. It basically says that something has to happen in reality. My act causes something in reality. And since it causes something in reality, this is not a convention, not an agreement. It is a result. Something happens in metaphysics. Once the cause has already occurred and the result did not happen, then it can no longer happen afterward either. But if it is only a convention, as in an ordinary legal system, then what is the problem? We make an agreement now and the legal effect will be in thirty days. As far as I know, there is no legal problem with doing such a thing. Both sides agree, everything is clear from the contract, so there is no problem. Why? Because from their perspective, if there is such a convention and both sides agreed, then if they agreed everything is fine. What more needs to exist? There is no additional legal limitation on these things. In Jewish law there is. Therefore, when I look at the concept of condition before the Torah’s novel teaching in the passage of the children of Gad and the children of Reuben, I would have thought that in general you cannot stipulate conditions because of Jewish law’s ontic conception of itself. That means that the physics does not allow this type of mechanism. Therefore, without the novel teaching of the children of Gad and the children of Reuben, I would think that even though Moses wants them to go in and fight, and even though the children of Gad want the inheritance on the other side of the Jordan, and even though both sides agreed to make one depend on the other through a condition, it still could not be implemented. Because there is no legal mechanism that can implement it. And this method is called condition—you can stipulate. And if you stipulate, then you succeed in implementing that rationale. So this basically means that from the standpoint of Jewish law, even if the rationale exists, that still does not mean it can be implemented, unlike other legal systems. And therefore the passage of the children of Gad and the children of Reuben is built in the way I described earlier. It presents the rationale, and after that it presents the stipulation. And from this the Talmud and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) learn that the Torah apparently came to teach us the very idea of condition, because without the Torah we would not have known. The Torah finds it necessary, after presenting the rationale, also to tell us that Moses implemented it by way of condition, because we would have thought that even if the rationale exists, it still cannot be implemented. The Torah has to innovate that although both parties agree, there is also a legal way to implement it. In the legal world you do not need that second novelty; if both parties agree, then what is the problem? Of course it is valid. In Jewish law, no. In Jewish law you need something additional: even if both parties agree, it is still not certain that such a thing is implementable, and for that you need the Torah’s novel teaching, which introduces the mechanism of condition. Now all these things—the claim, look at the continuation there, what you are quoting here is not correct, look at the continuation, that “from now and after thirty” is one story, or “on condition”; plain “after thirty” will not work. The Torah’s claim is that in such a case it does not bother me that there is backward causality in time, or that his act of acquisition has expired. Why really not? About that one can explain—there is a discussion in Beit Yishai by Rabbi Shlomo Fischer, siman 35. He explains there that when a person stipulates a condition, then some sort of mechanism is created; the stipulation creates some kind of demon, yes, a destructive force—he has all kinds of mystical concepts there—that continues to accompany this legal effect onward, so that in fact the story does not end until the stage where the condition is fulfilled or not fulfilled, and then there is no problem of “his act of acquisition has expired,” because it has not expired; the act still continues, there is still something left hanging and pending, and the condition either permits it or does not permit it. And that is the way the matter is solved. But you need a novel teaching from the Torah to say that such a thing is possible at all, and that is the point. Now look at a consequence—and by the way, this consequence is mentioned in every yeshiva class on conditions—but here I’m putting it into context and you can see much more sharply what this means. The claim is as follows: when a person stipulates a condition, there are various rules for how to stipulate properly; there is a standard formulation for the condition. The standard formulation requires seven conditions, for example doubling the condition, right? “If you cross the Jordan you will receive the inheritance; if you do not cross the Jordan you will not receive the inheritance.” The positive has to come before the negative: “If you cross the Jordan you will receive the inheritance, and if you do not cross the Jordan you will not receive”—first the yes, afterward the no. The condition must precede the act, not “you will receive the inheritance if you cross the Jordan,” but “if you cross the Jordan, you will receive the inheritance”; in the order of formulation the condition has to come first and only afterward the act. So we said: doubled condition, positive before negative, condition before act, something within one’s power to fulfill—that is the fourth rule of condition, meaning if a man stipulates with a woman that she ascend to the heavens, that is not a condition; she cannot ascend to the heavens. A stipulation contrary to what is written in the Torah; the condition and the act regarding one and the same thing; and something that can be done through an agent, meaning only something for which you can appoint an agent can also be made conditional—it doesn’t matter, those are the seven rules of condition. What happens if I made the condition in a non-standard way? I stipulated contrary to what is written in the Torah, I didn’t double the condition, the positive did not precede the negative, and so on, or it was something not within her power to fulfill. In that situation the condition is void but the act remains valid. Meaning, if I make a sale conditional… So the Talmud says this is a stipulation contrary to what is written in the Torah, and according to Rabbi Meir his condition is void. Rabbi Yehuda says that in monetary matters his condition stands, but let’s look at Rabbi Meir. Rabbi Meir says that his condition is void. What does “his condition is void” mean? I say to a woman: “You are betrothed to me on condition that I have no obligations to you of sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights,” and I doubled the condition and everything, of course, I formulated it properly—but this is a stipulation contrary to what is written in the Torah. And one who stipulates contrary to what is written in the Torah, his condition is void. “His condition is void” means the act is valid, the condition is void. What does that mean? She is betrothed to me. And not only is she betrothed to me, but I owe her sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights. And even though I owe her that, she is still betrothed to me. Even though I said that if I am obligated to you, I do not want to betroth her. But no, the condition is nullified and the act remains. This is an important point, and it is always so. Always, when we formulate the condition in a non-standard way, as the Talmud says, the condition is void and the act remains valid. Several medieval authorities (Rishonim) ask, in Ketubot 56 and elsewhere—the Ritva and Tosafot and others—how can this be? After all, the man did not intend to betroth her if he would owe her sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights. If she wants from him sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights, he is not interested in this betrothal; he did not intend to betroth her. So how can you tell him: she is betrothed to you against your will, even though you will owe her sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights? I never intended to betroth her on that basis at all.

[Speaker C] Rabbi, maybe this is a constitutive rule? As though the sages determined, or the Torah determined, that if you do not fulfill the rules of conditions, then you are aware that for us the act remains valid and the condition does not, and on that basis you know in advance, and therefore…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does it mean, “aware of that”? The Torah does not say that. The rule is that they established the rules of condition; the Torah only stated the rules of condition. Now I say, okay, what happens if he did not stipulate according to the rules of condition? One might have said: then the act is nullified and the whole story is irrelevant—betroth her again. But no, the Talmud says no: the act remains valid and the condition is nullified. Now the question that all the medieval authorities (Rishonim) struggle with is why. After all, every legal system in the world says that if you did not intend to betroth the woman, then she is not betrothed to you; if you did not intend to acquire something, then it is not acquired—or to transfer it, then it is not transferred. And here it is clear that he did not intend to transfer or to betroth, so how can it take effect? In other words, why do I need the novel teaching of the passage of conditions to tell me that if the condition was not fulfilled, then the transaction is nullified? This transaction cannot exist if the condition is not fulfilled, because on that basis I did not want it at all. And if, for example, I betroth a woman and I say to two witnesses that I do not intend to betroth her seriously, then she is not betrothed, even though I gave her a ring and said, “Behold, you are betrothed to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel.” But before that I said to the two witnesses: I am just doing this act to make fun of her—then she is not betrothed. And if it is clear that I do not intend the act, the act in itself will not do the job. And here, after all, that is the situation. If it turns out that I am obligated to her for sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights, I did not intend to betroth her, and I said that in front of the witnesses. So it is clear that I do not intend to betroth her, so how can one say that she is betrothed to me? That is basically the question of the medieval authorities (Rishonim). Some medieval authorities (Rishonim) explain that if a person stipulates contrary to what is written in the Torah, it is like something not within his power to fulfill—here he is making a joke. He does not really mean the stipulation; he means to betroth her in any case, and he is just jerking her around, confusing her. Okay, that is highly questionable—Rabbi Elchanan in Kovetz Shiurim already rejects it; it is very unlikely—but there are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who say it, Rabbeinu Tam and others. But there are other medieval authorities (Rishonim)—for example Tosafot there in Ketubot 56—who claim that this works, that it really works even though the man does not want to betroth her on that basis; she will nevertheless be betrothed to him. And why? He says as follows. The Torah is the one that introduced the whole passage of conditions. Now this can be understood in two ways—I’m again explaining it within the context I spoke about earlier, because he is very brief in his wording. The Torah’s novelty in the passage of conditions can be understood in two ways. One can understand that the Torah introduced the very fact that one can make a condition, but it limited that novelty to a case where I formulated it in the standard way. Only if I formulated it in the standard way can I make a condition, and why? Because only the Torah’s novel teaching enables me to make conditions at all, otherwise there is the problem that his act of acquisition has expired, reverse causality, and so on. So therefore only if I formulated it in the way the Torah says—only regarding that was the novelty taught, that I am not bothered by the expiration of the act of acquisition and by reverse causality. But if it was formulated defectively, in a non-standard way, then the novelty of condition was not taught. Therefore we basically understand the novelty of the passage of the children of Gad in the following way: the Torah is the one that introduced the passage of conditions, and you have only what its novelty gives you. Meaning, the passage of conditions was introduced only if you really say the condition the way the Torah wants you to say it. If not, then we return to the state that existed before the Torah.

[Speaker B] But Rabbi, why—how does the Rabbi explain—why there is no problem of lack of settled intent in betrothal?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] How does the Rabbi explain?

[Speaker B] Again. Why is there no lack of settled intent in betrothal? How does the Rabbi explain?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, I haven’t explained anything yet, I haven’t explained anything yet. Let’s continue. So the claim is basically—this is one possibility for explaining the novelty of the passage of the children of Gad. Another possibility is to say: no, the fact that one can stipulate is obvious; that the Torah does not need to introduce. Every legal system allows stipulation, that is obvious. The Torah came to teach a stringency. You think you can stipulate? Correct, but only if you use a standard formulation. The novelty is not that you can stipulate; the novelty is that with a non-standard formulation you cannot stipulate. The novelty comes to be stringent, not lenient. The first approach says that the novelty comes to enable stipulation. Without it I would not know that one can stipulate at all, and it enables it only if you used a standard formulation. That is a lenient novelty. I would have thought that you cannot stipulate at all; it comes to teach us that if the formulation is standard, then you can stipulate. The second possibility is the opposite. Even without the Torah I would know that you can stipulate. On the contrary, I would think that in every case you can stipulate. Then the Torah comes and makes it stricter, saying: no, no, only with a standard formulation can you stipulate. It comes to teach that if the formulation is non-standard, then you cannot stipulate. If I understand it in the second way, that the Torah’s novelty is not that you can stipulate—that I would have known already—then why really? Here I want to make the following claim. The mechanism of condition can be understood in two ways, says Rabbi Shimon Shkop in Kuntres Ha-Tena’im at the end of his novellae on Gittin. The usual way to understand it is “it becomes revealed retroactively.” Apparently this will take me a long time, but no matter. “It becomes revealed retroactively.” What does that mean? Suppose I divorce a woman on condition that she not drink wine for a year. If she did not drink wine throughout the year, then it becomes clear that she was divorced from the very first moment; she is divorced. This is called “it becomes revealed retroactively.” It means that not drinking wine, or fulfillment of the condition, does not create anything in reality; it only reveals information to me that I did not know until now. A parable for the matter: suppose I’m in Australia and my wife gives birth here in Israel. They tell me she gave birth, but I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. A month later I return to Israel and it turns out it’s a boy—I come to the redemption ceremony, right? So it becomes known to me that it’s a boy. Did the situation that the child who was born is a boy come into existence only a month later when I arrived in Israel? No, he was always a boy; I just didn’t know it. A month passed, I came to Israel, and then it became known to me, but that knowledge is only additional information for me; it did not change reality. Reality was already like that from the beginning. The common view regarding conditions is like this. Basically the woman is divorced from the start; I just don’t know it. I have to wait a year to see whether she drinks wine or does not drink wine. After a year in which she did not drink wine, the information that this woman is divorced reaches me. But nothing happened in reality. It is not that not drinking wine caused the divorce. The divorce was there all along; I just didn’t know it. I had to wait a year, and only then it became known to me that she had been divorced all along. So according to this conception, stipulation does not change anything in reality, nor does fulfillment or non-fulfillment of the condition. It merely brings to my knowledge information that was always true; I just didn’t know it. That is called “it becomes revealed retroactively.”

[Speaker B] Isn’t it a bit—isn’t it a bit hard to understand that?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean?

[Speaker B] What does that mean? Surely it’s definitely the reason she ends up divorced. It’s not the reason!

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The reason is the get. It’s just that the get was given on condition that she not drink wine, because if she does drink wine I don’t want to divorce her. So after she did not drink wine, it became clear that what I truly wanted was fulfilled, and on that basis I did indeed intend to divorce her, and therefore she is divorced. Nothing here is happening retroactively along the timeline.

[Speaker B] It’s just settled intent, kind of, as the Rabbi says. Yes, exactly, it’s all settled intent.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No reverse causality happens on the timeline, because no, there are no cause-and-effect relations here; it just reveals the reality, that’s all. So that is the usual conception. I brought an example for it. In one of the panels where we sat to annul a marriage, I argued that there was this young couple who got married at age 18—a pair of fools, got married at 18. They set a date for the first night at the hotel; the groom never showed up. After a few days they found him in the United States living with another woman already in his own home. And the rabbinate, of course in its usual way, drove them crazy for years, and there was no get there, until they gave the husband a bribe so that he would give a get, and then they managed to persuade him to give a get. Bribe money. Yes, have you ever heard of a state institution bribing a person to obey the law? That can happen only in the rabbinate. In any case, they were very proud of it. Yes, it was published in all the newspapers with great pride, showing how devoted they are to all these women denied a get. So on that panel, during the years this took, I said that no get was needed at all. We annulled her marriage. Without a get. Why? Because she never consented on that basis. Meaning, if she did not receive a married life from him, he never even showed up to live with her, then obviously had she known that, she would not have consented to the marriage she entered. And since that is so, there is no marriage. And consequently no get is needed either. The marriage is void. Later I happened to speak with someone, never mind whom—I argued with various people who criticized this—and with one of them an interesting point came up. In fact, this action was not an action of a court. The court did not uproot the marriage here. After all, I could have answered her question as a halakhic decisor, not as a judge. I simply told her that she had never been married in the first place. She did not know it, but that was the reality even before we said anything. Because after all, she did not consent; if she did not consent, then she is not married. All we did was clarify that she really had not consented. But once we clarified that she really had not consented, then clearly she was not married even if we had never convened as a court and even if we had said nothing. It’s just that otherwise she would not have known that she was not married. But we did not perform an act that uprooted the marriage; this was not a causal act. We merely clarified what the correct information was, information that had always been there. Yes, that is an example of what I said earlier about condition. That is “it becomes revealed retroactively.” Rabbi Shimon Shkop says, for various reasons—

[Speaker D] Wait, but with a condition it’s very different. I mean, it’s substantially different. With a condition there isn’t some event that already existed then. So how did the get itself know whether to divorce or not divorce depending on something that will happen later?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the case of the marriage too, that event did not already exist.

[Speaker D] No, I can say that she did not want such a man. Meaning, he was not the person she wanted. So she understood it differently. She did not want that kind of marriage.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What’s the problem?

[Speaker D] But a divorce that depends on whether it rains in a month—the rain does not exist today, neither in the sense of yes nor in the sense of no. Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But he did not want the divorce if it would rain. So if it rained, that means he did not want the divorce. It is exactly the same thing. There is no difference at all.

[Speaker D] But the rain has to be connected somehow to the event of the divorce for us to say he wants the divorce or doesn’t want it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The wine drinking or the married life—is that connected? Of course not. These are completely different things. It’s just that she does not consent if it won’t happen. That is the difference between “on this basis” and mistaken transaction. A mistaken transaction is something that already exists at the moment of the transaction, but one of the parties does not know it. “On this basis” is a future mechanism. If I had known what would happen in the future, I would not have consented. And that too can void a transaction. There are various proofs. For example, one who sold his property on the basis of going up to the Land of Israel, and in the end things got messed up and he did not go up to the Land of Israel, then the transaction is void. But his not going up to the Land of Israel is a future matter. It is not that at the time of the transaction it was already known that he would not go up to the Land of Israel. And so on, it doesn’t matter.

[Speaker B] But now that’s mistaken transaction, Rabbi, right? It’s not by the law of condition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. No. If the information exists at that time, that is mistaken transaction. But if it is a future matter, then it is “on this basis”; it is not mistaken transaction.

[Speaker B] But it’s not by the law of condition in marriage and… no.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “On this basis” is like condition. In transactions and in marriage and in everything.

[Speaker B] Mistaken transaction, plainly speaking, is not a condition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Mistaken transaction simply means there was no consent. It has nothing to do with condition.

[Speaker B] She did not consent—there is no consent if she had known that she would not get married life, so to speak?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If she does not know something future, then that means there is a condition here: I consent on condition that I receive a married life. If it is information that exists now, then I say: I want to buy such an object. But this is not that object, I just don’t know it. It is simply a mistake; I did not consent. That has nothing to do with conditions. It is a condition about the past, if you want, but it is not really a condition. I simply bought a car, and the car has an engine, and it turns out it has no engine. It is simply not what I intended to buy; I did not consent. It is just a mistake. It is not related to saying that I bought the car on condition that it have an engine. That is not a condition. I bought a car. But if I say I bought a car and the engine died a month later—now I say: I bought a car on condition that there be some engine here that will keep working for me going forward. If I had known the engine would die after a month, I would not have consented to buy it. That is already a condition. Okay?

[Speaker D] If every condition works on the basis of “on this basis,” then we are back to the question why there are rules here and why you need a doubled condition and all those things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The opposite. “On this basis” is built on the basis of condition; condition is not built on “on this basis.” And I am now asking the question about condition itself. Why is condition itself really different, like “on this basis,” and not just an ordinary mistaken transaction? That is basically my question. Why is condition not simply “it becomes revealed retroactively,” and that’s it? So Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s claim is that there is another mechanism here—not “it becomes revealed retroactively,” but what he calls “from now on, retroactively.” What does that mean? The claim is that the future event—the legal effect I impose in any case, and the future event, if the condition is not fulfilled, can uproot the legal effect that was imposed earlier, a month ago, a year ago. So notice: here there is already a cause that causally produces the effect, but the effect happened before the cause. This is called “from now on, retroactively.” Rabbi Shimon Shkop argues that the mechanism of condition is not “it becomes revealed retroactively” but “from now on, retroactively.” And he has many proofs. At least according to many medieval authorities (Rishonim), that is the case. About the Talmud itself one can argue, but in many medieval authorities (Rishonim) it seems to be “it becomes revealed retroactively,” while Rabbi Shimon shows from quite a few medieval authorities (Rishonim) that it is “from now on, retroactively.” Or in other words: condition, meaning non-fulfillment of the condition, causally uproots the legal effect that I applied in the past. It does not merely clarify that this was always the information, only I did not know it. It is an event with a causal effect on the past.

[Speaker C] But how can that be? After all, from a deterministic perspective the information really exists. It was basically already determined from the moment of the Big Bang what would happen.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So—

[Speaker C] The reality is just that you don’t know, and it’s only “it becomes revealed retroactively.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Who said it is deterministic? Why are you assuming determinism?

[Speaker C] Why not? You said.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying that the engine—

[Speaker C] Whether it will die or not die, even according to the Rabbi there is no free choice of the engine here. Wine drinking—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] About wine drinking, we agree? So let’s talk about that. Doesn’t matter.

[Speaker C] For someone who accepts—not accepts determinism. No.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I also have an answer about the engine; even with determinism it doesn’t matter. But I don’t want to get into those issues; those are different philosophical issues. Your question is good, but that is another discussion. There is a Nachmanides who actually says that this applies only to deterministic things—that is, the difference between deterministic and non-deterministic things is that here it is condition and there it is retroactive clarification by selection. That is the difference between retroactive clarification by selection and condition. But let’s not step on that minefield. In any case, Rabbi Shimon’s claim is that what is involved is that the non-fulfillment of the condition uproots the legal effect I applied in the past. Now if that is so, then look. According to the conception of “it becomes revealed retroactively,” then indeed there is no need to introduce the possibility of stipulating at all. It is obvious. Once the person did not consent, then he did not consent, end of story. What is the problem? So the legal effect never took hold. Therefore according to that conception it is clear that all the Torah introduced was a stringency: that condition of course works even without the Torah’s novelty, but the Torah introduced that you need the standard formulation. You may ask me why you need the standard formulation—why all of a sudden? If you did not intend it, you did not intend it. Because the standard formulation verifies that this is indeed your intention. According to this approach, incidentally, Jewish law is like all other legal systems. It is just a question of clarifying the parties’ intent. And the whole purpose of the standard formulation is to verify that this is your intention. And that is how it appears in several medieval authorities (Rishonim). But according to Rabbi Shimon Shkop, the Torah’s novelty is not just the rules of conditions, but the very possibility of stipulating itself. Because otherwise why would one think there can be backward causality and uprooting by a spent act of acquisition and everything we spoke about earlier? Therefore it is clear that the Torah introduced the very possibility of stipulating. But that is conditioned on your using a standard formulation. Meaning, everything starts with the question of how you understand the mechanism of condition. And therefore—and this is what the later authorities (Acharonim) discuss—but notice how this actually connects with the whole broader move about conditions, and it begins in the Torah itself, in the Torah’s own formulation. And now I say this: after all, I asked why really the condition is void but the act remains valid. For example, one who stipulated a doubled condition: “Behold, you are betrothed to me on condition that you have no vows, and if you do have vows you are not betrothed.” So he made a doubled condition and everything. Then why, if he stipulated contrary to what is written in the Torah, is the condition void and the act valid? Meaning, she is betrothed. She is betrothed to him even though he owes her sustenance, clothing, and conjugal rights. But if he owes her that, then on that basis he did not want to betroth her. So according to the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who understand this as “it becomes revealed retroactively,” then the question is indeed a difficult one. In plain reasoning, he did not consent—why should it take effect? So they really explain that if he stipulates—Rabbeinu Tam, for example, says—if he stipulates contrary to what is written in the Torah, then he merely intended to joke with her. He did not truly mean to make a condition. It is like stipulating something not in his power, that she ascend to the heavens.

[Speaker C] And he understands all the requirements of conditions in that way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All of these requirements are really meant to clarify or verify that this is what he intends. That’s all. But once you understand that this is what he intends, then of course it is valid, and you don’t need the Torah’s novel ruling for that, just as in a regular legal system. In contrast, the Ri in Tosafot there argues: no, even if you did not intend to betroth her in a case where she would have a claim on you for food, clothing, and conjugal rights, she will still be betrothed, even though you would owe her food, clothing, and conjugal rights. And why? He says as follows: since the Torah tells us that this is ontic—and I’m putting all of this into the context in which I’ve placed things—since the assumption here is really an ontic, metaphysical assumption, that means that the future fulfillment or non-fulfillment of the condition cannot uproot a legal effect that I created now. Only the Torah introduced the novelty that this is possible, and that novelty was introduced only if you make the condition, formulate the condition, in a proper way.

Now, how does that work? In order to allow you to create a legal effect that depends on some future event, you actually have to apply the legal effect in any case. To say that the woman is divorced regardless, divorced full stop. But in parallel I create a mechanism that will uproot this divorce if she drinks wine during the coming year. The effect itself is not conditional on anything; the effect itself is that she is divorced, the legal effect itself is that she is divorced, period, whether she drinks wine or doesn’t drink wine. But if she drinks wine, that unconditional legal effect will be causally uprooted. The drinking of the wine uproots that legal effect. Not that on that understanding the effect was never applied from the outset. No—it was applied in any case. It’s just that the condition, the fulfillment of the condition, will uproot the effect. Why? Because only that way can a mechanism of condition be carried out; otherwise it cannot be done.

So what happens? When a person stipulates a condition, what does he really mean? He wants not to betroth her if she will have a claim on him for food, clothing, and conjugal rights, but he knows that this cannot be implemented except in the way that Jewish law allows. And what is that way? To betroth her in any case, and if there is food, clothing, and conjugal rights, then the betrothal will be uprooted, because only that way can it be done. So he too presumably intended to do it that way, because he wants this thing to be realized. And the Torah says: only this way can you realize it. So even though his interest, his rationale, is that he does not want to betroth her if she will have a claim on him for food, clothing, and conjugal rights, the legal method of implementation obligates him to betroth her in any case and, in parallel, create a mechanism that will uproot the betrothal if there will be an obligation of food, clothing, and conjugal rights.

Or with—one second—or with the tribes of Gad and Reuben: basically Jewish law obligates Moses and the sons of Gad to give them the inheritance in any case; only if they do not fight alongside Israel will we uproot that grant retroactively. Because otherwise it cannot be implemented. So that is what they intended.

Now what happens? The moment a person intended to apply the legal effect in any case, then it applies in any case. Except that the stipulation created a mechanism such that if the condition is not fulfilled, the legal effect will be uprooted. But you did not succeed in creating that mechanism, because you formulated it in a way that is not proper. Only a proper formulation succeeds in creating that mechanism. If you did not formulate it properly, you did not manage to build the mechanism, and then what happened? You performed the betrothal in any case, and the destructive force—yes, in the language of Rabbi Shlomo Fisher—the destructive force you did not create, because only proper formulation creates it. So what is left? The condition is void, and the act stands. She is betrothed to you in any case, whether or not there will be food, clothing, and conjugal rights, and the condition is void.

Or the inheritance: if Moses our teacher’s stipulation had been, say, without a double condition, with the positive not preceding the negative, then the inheritance would belong to the tribes of Gad and Reuben regardless of whether they fought alongside Israel or did not fight. The condition is void and the act stands. Ah, why? The parties didn’t want that. They didn’t want that. The answer is: no, they did want that. Their real interest, their rationale, was not that—but the legal implementation forced them to agree to the transfer in any case and, in parallel, to create a mechanism of uprooting by means of the condition. Once the condition does not meet the proper formulation, then the uprooting mechanism was not created. Once it was not created, then the legal effect exists in any case. The condition is void and the act stands. That is how the Ri explains it.

So in essence we see that this way of reading the passage, and the comparison to other legal systems, brings all the conceptual discussions—each of which on its own is discussed in all the yeshivot, these famous, old, worn-out topics—but it puts them into a certain context, one unified context. The question is whether you understand Jewish law as a regular legal system like any other legal system, in which case all you need to do is clarify the intentions of the parties. If the intentions of the parties are clear, then there is no obstacle to implementing the matter. Or whether you understand Jewish law as something that sees itself as expressing an ontic reality. And therefore in such a case the Torah has to introduce for me the very possibility of stipulation, not only the laws governing conditions. And then in such a case it is clear that even if the parties really did intend it, it still won’t help them. The result will go against your rationale.

But notice: it will go against your rationale, but not against what you did. And that is the Ri’s point. There is a gap between the rationale and what you do. Take Moses and the tribes of Gad, for example. Moses’ rationale was to give them the inheritance only if they participated in the fighting. That was the rationale; the Torah describes this very clearly. Now suppose Moses had not formulated it according to the laws of conditions, the wording was not proper—what would happen in that case? The inheritance would become theirs regardless of whether they fought alongside Israel or did not fight. Why? But Moses had no intention whatsoever to give it on that basis. No—there is a difference between the rationale and the contract. And that is the important point. In Jewish law, yes; in a regular legal system, no. Why? Because the rationale is your interest. What your interest is, that is not the legal technicians’ issue. What do you want? But the contract is subject to additional constraints besides what you want. There are also constraints of what Jewish law allows and what it does not allow.

Now there can be a situation in which the contract requires you to proceed in a way that does not really express your interest, because only in that way will you ultimately realize your interest. You basically want to betroth the woman only if there will not be food, clothing, and conjugal rights, but the only way to do that is to betroth her in any case and create a mechanism that will uproot the betrothal if the condition is not fulfilled. Because of the legal constraints—in Jewish law they are different from those of a regular legal system. And therefore you yourself, when you perform the legal act, agree that the betrothal will take effect in any case, or that the inheritance will be given to the tribes of Gad and Reuben in any case. That is what Moses our teacher said, even though it was not his interest, not his rationale. But because of the legal constraints he understands that he has no choice; he must do it that way. And now if he formulates the condition in a flawed way, in a way that is not proper, then he applied the legal effect in any case, and the mechanism that uproots the legal effect he did not create. Because only the proper formulation succeeds in creating that mechanism. And then what remains is that the legal effect applies in any case, even though that is not what he wanted.

What comes out here is a result that does not match the will of the parties. And I think that is the essence of this novelty that the Torah introduces in the passage of conditions. This idea that the condition is void and the act stands begins with how I read the passage. Once I understand the context, once I put it into a context, I suddenly see—once I read the passage—I understand that the passage comes to teach me that rationale is not enough. The legal mode of implementation is also very important. And the Torah has to tell me that only through the mechanism of condition can this rationale be legally implemented. From here it immediately follows that the Torah’s novelty is the very possibility of stipulation. But if the Torah’s novelty is the very possibility of stipulation, then that means that a condition does not work as retrospective clarification, but rather as something that works from now onward retroactively. Because retrospective clarification is not the Torah’s novelty; that is self-evident. And if it operates as from now onward retroactively, then clearly there can be a case where the condition is void and the act stands, and the result will not reflect what I wanted.

You see that all the discussions in the yeshivot, or in conceptual-yeshiva style thinking, which mostly address each one separately, actually all come together in a single move because I placed the things in context. I understand their root. Once I understand their root, then this whole story unfolds in a complete way. Meaning, everything is connected to everything. That is basically the claim.

Okay, one could go on at length here about this issue, but it took me much more time than I thought. But I think this is a good example to see, first, that one needs to do some conceptual analysis. What is the problem with the mechanism of condition? What would have happened without the Torah? Then to understand what the Torah’s novelty is, and that also emerges from analysis of the biblical text itself. What is the Torah’s novelty? And then to understand from that the Talmudic outcomes that the condition is void and the act stands. In what is it different? They are conventionalist, while it is ontic. And we saw other examples of that too. So placing it in context also connects to various other halakhic examples. If I had not put it in context, then the passage of conditions would have been the passage of conditions, and something not yet in the world, or something with no concrete substance, would have been something entirely different—they would not connect to one another. Therefore, putting things in context and doing conceptual and a priori analysis always basically gives you a broader view of things, and that naturally connects to other matters and gives you something that ties the theory together with many more concrete halakhic examples.

[Speaker B] Rabbi, just about what the Rabbi told me—what the Rabbi told me about “after thirty days,” that’s also Maimonides, right? It’s there in betrothal—there in the laws of betrothal: if one says, “Be betrothed to me after thirty days,” even though the money was used up within the thirty days, she is still betrothed after thirty days. Is that there also because of the law of condition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ll look there. As far as I remember, that is only in the form of a condition.

[Speaker B] Okay, Laws of Marriage, chapter 7, law 10. Thank you very much.

[Speaker E] Can I ask a question? Yes. On this issue of condition, assuming it’s correctly formulated, can both parties uproot the act? Because the example I want to give is, say, that a buyer said that the purchase will be carried out only if he receives financing. And both parties agreed, and it was with a double condition, and everything was fine. Then the buyer decided he isn’t taking financing—can the seller cancel the transaction?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, obviously—what do you mean? Both the seller and the buyer can stipulate conditions.

[Speaker E] No, the seller did not stipulate any condition. The seller accepted the condition that the buyer made, making the transaction contingent on receiving financing. It turns out that the buyer doesn’t need financing. Can the seller cancel the transaction?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question is whether that is included in the condition. Here one now has to interpret the condition. If the interpretation of the condition is that this is in the seller’s interest, then the buyer will not be able to cancel the transaction.

[Speaker E] Not the buyer—the seller.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If the buyer sees it as his own rationale, and therefore one should write the rationale at the beginning of the contract in order to show that this stipulation is also for his benefit, not only for the seller’s benefit, then yes, then he will be able to cancel it. It’s a question of how you interpret the condition that was made. That is why it is very important to write the rationale at the beginning of a contract.

[Speaker C] Rabbi, I just didn’t understand exactly why we need this novelty, that the Torah introduced the possibility of making a condition. What is there here to introduce? What is illogical about it without the Torah’s novelty?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I said: either the causality is backwards, or his act of acquisition has already been exhausted.

[Speaker C] But what backwards causality? After all, I really didn’t know what would happen, but whatever will happen is already determined. So all that happened is that it was clarified retroactively.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The fact that she drank wine—the fact that she drank wine uprooted a divorce that had already taken place? How does that happen? How can that be?

[Speaker C] No, but if she drank wine, then that was basically already determined in advance. It already happened at the time of the betrothal. I just didn’t know it would happen.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does it mean “determined in advance”? Were it not for the Torah’s novelty regarding conditions, what does “determined in advance” even mean? You performed a divorce, so there is a divorce, that’s all. What do you want—that a future event should suddenly cancel the divorce?

[Speaker C] No, but I made the divorce conditional on rain falling tomorrow. The fact that I don’t know whether it will rain tomorrow is my issue, but the rain is already determined in advance, whether it will happen or not happen. So I didn’t know, and now it has become clarified to me.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The claim is not that you didn’t know. The claim is that the rainfall uproots the divorce.

[Speaker C] What kind of idea is that? I don’t understand this approach of uprooting—it’s some strange metaphysical invention.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A strange metaphysical invention, maybe—but that is how many medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim) learn it. That’s what I tried to show—that it emerges from the passage itself. Because according to the other side, the novelty stated in the Torah regarding conditions is unnecessary. As you said earlier: what, it’s obvious, self-evident—if the person didn’t want it, then it doesn’t take effect.

[Speaker C] So maybe the novelty is that the Torah requires it to be done specifically in this form, and if not? Why—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why not?

[Speaker C] Why does the Torah require these derivations?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To clarify the intentions of the parties, as Rabbenu Tam says. But that is very forced. Because it doesn’t really clarify the intentions of the parties. If a person says, for example, “You are divorced if you do not drink wine,” and he didn’t say it as a double condition, you understand on your own that if she does drink wine then she is not divorced, right? Clearly that is what he meant. So as a clarification of what the parties intended, I don’t need a double condition. In fact this is a dispute between Maimonides and the Ran; Kovetz Shiurim brings it. But in the simple understanding, the intention of the parties is clearly evident.

[Speaker C] No, but supposedly the Torah determines that in order for us to have it—and the act still stands.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying: if it’s clear to me even without that, if it’s clear to me even without that, then why should I care now whether the wording is this way or that way? It’s clear to me what he meant. Why is the condition void and the act stands? That is the question of the medieval authorities (Rishonim), exactly this hesitation, because they assume like you. So Rabbenu Tam also remains with your view, but it’s forced. The Rif is right, in my opinion.

[Speaker F] Rabbi, can I ask a question unrelated to the class? Yes. I’m now reading the second book of the trilogy and also of course listening to the Rabbi’s lectures, and I’m trying to connect two topics. In the book I reached the chapters dealing basically with how much God is present, or with God’s withdrawal from the world on the individual level and on the collective level, and I’m trying to connect that to the autonomy that the Rabbi talks about a lot. My question is whether there is a connection between these things. Meaning, does the very fact that God has, over time, somewhat withdrawn from the world have to do with His demanding more autonomy from us? It seems that when we were born as a people in the wilderness after the Exodus from Egypt, we were very dependent on God and very much needed Him, right? And over time, little by little, He withdrew.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I wrote that there, didn’t I? I write that it’s like a child who grows up, and then the parents expect him to conduct himself independently.

[Speaker F] Right, that really speaks to me. I’m asking whether this is connected to autonomy—meaning, is our autonomy supposed to grow as God withdraws? Is there a connection between the two?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does it mean that autonomy is supposed to grow? Define the concept for me.

[Speaker F] Our autonomy is supposed to be…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Spell it out, because as far as I’m concerned you’re just repeating the same sentence twice. Autonomy is supposed to grow when the Holy One, blessed be He, withdraws—obviously, that’s by definition. To the extent that He withdraws, I act more independently.

[Speaker F] Meaning, He expects us to have more autonomy because He withdraws.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously. No, that’s the claim. I don’t really understand the question.

[Speaker F] No, okay, I just didn’t know if those two things are connected. Meaning, because the Rabbi speaks so much about autonomy and the value of autonomy, I’m asking whether this autonomous value gets more and more weight over time because God withdraws. Yes, obviously.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes.

[Speaker F] Okay. Meaning that, supposedly, God did not expect the Israelites in the wilderness to have autonomy, because they were dependent on Him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Less so, yes. Okay. Anyone else? Okay then, Sabbath peace.

[Speaker B] Thank you very much, good night, Sabbath peace.

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