Study and Ruling – Lesson 34
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- Saving life inside “hell”
- Sanctification of God’s name, commandments require belief, and commandments require intention
- First-order halakhic ruling: how to build a responsum and what the problem is with “orphan’s Kaddish”
- The principle of legality: you need a source to prohibit, not to permit
- A lacuna, several possibilities, and the move to the question of leniency and stringency
- Leniency and stringency are not “whatever is convenient”: the Rebbe of Sanz, doubtful blessings, and identifying with Jewish law
- The Beit HaLevi as “lenient” with leniencies that look like stringencies
- Cases where it is not clear what counts as lenient and what counts as stringent: a foundling, the Sabbath, and Torah study
- The definition: leniency and stringency are determined by the number of halakhic possibilities
- Self-sacrifice as an example of a leniency that opens an option
- The blessing of thanksgiving, Tosafot Rosh, and the Tzelach: leniency in the laws of blessings versus stringency in “Do not take [God’s name in vain]”
- Applying the rules to individual clauses, not to the bottom line, and the connection to first-order halakhic ruling
Summary
Overview
The conclusion is that this is a case of saving life, and the expectation was that a rabbi asked from within that “hell” would simply say that there is no room for pilpul and that one should do whatever is necessary to save oneself and one’s companions. But it is argued that this very statement is itself an instruction from the laws of saving life, and that there is no “something else” here. After that, a sharp critique is offered of the way responsa and halakhic discussion are constructed, through the example of “orphan’s Kaddish,” and a method is described that first requires collecting the relevant halakhic clauses and only then discussing and deciding. The discussion then develops into a conceptual clarification of leniency and stringency, with examples from the Rebbe of Sanz, from the Beit HaLevi, and from topics involving blessings, and establishes a definition according to which leniency and stringency are measured by whether they open or close halakhic possibilities, not by what is easier or harder for a person, while distinguishing between different halakhic clauses that together lead to a bottom line that may appear to be the opposite.
Saving life inside “hell”
The claim is that in the situation described, when a person turns to a rabbi from within an extreme reality, the rabbi should say that this is not a matter of Jewish law in the sense of discussion and definitions, and that one must immediately do whatever is required to save oneself and others. The counter-response is that this is precisely a clear halakha in the laws of saving life: the Talmud says that one does not ask questions and that “one who is asked is blameworthy,” so there is no basis for saying that this goes beyond Jewish law. The dispute is framed as the question whether there is any need to “resort to the concept of saving life” before entering into specific discussions, as opposed to the position that one must work with halakhic principles and not with the description of “hell” as a substitute for decision-making.
Sanctification of God’s name, commandments require belief, and commandments require intention
A question is raised about a religious, God-fearing person who goes to war out of moral duty rather than out of awareness of an obligatory war, and the possibility that he sanctifies God’s name remains open. It is argued that “according to everyone, commandments require belief,” whereas the question whether “commandments require intention” is a dispute in the Talmud and among the halakhic decisors. It is said that according to the view that commandments do not require intention, he certainly performed a commandment even without intention, and according to the view that they do require intention, it is possible that even an act done without explicit awareness would still count as intention; but if the person does not know the halakha at all, he may fall into the category of one acting without awareness of the act’s significance.
First-order halakhic ruling: how to build a responsum and what the problem is with “orphan’s Kaddish”
It is said that when giving a halakhic answer, one must first collect all the relevant halakhic clauses—Torah-level, rabbinic, prohibitions, commandments, customs—and then go through them one by one and clarify what each requires in the situation, and only at the end summarize with a bottom line of permitted, forbidden, commandment, and so on. The example of the ruling of the “Rabbis of Beit Hillel” on “orphan’s Kaddish” is presented as structurally flawed even before its conclusion, because according to the argument there are almost no relevant halakhic clauses on the subject, and the list comes out as “the empty set,” with a strained mention of “a woman’s singing voice is nakedness,” which does not really apply. It is argued that there is no point in bringing precedents from responsa without first defining which clauses are under discussion, and that where there are no clauses there is no discussion at all, so this is worse than second-order halakhic ruling and is defined as “third order.”
The principle of legality: you need a source to prohibit, not to permit
An idea is cited in the name of the previous Klausenburger Rebbe, Divrei Yatziv, from which it seems to follow that “everything is forbidden unless there is proof that it is permitted,” but this is called ignorance, and the truth is said to be the opposite: “Everything is permitted unless there is a source that forbids it.” A parallel principle is presented from the world of law called “the principle of legality,” according to which for a citizen everything is permitted unless the law forbids it, whereas for the government everything is forbidden unless the law permits it, and it is said that in Jewish law the first part is relevant. From this is derived the requirement that in constructing a responsum one mainly collects “all the prohibiting clauses,” because “permitting” clauses are not the basis of the discussion, and if there are no prohibiting clauses then there is nothing to discuss and no reason to look for permissive precedents.
A lacuna, several possibilities, and the move to the question of leniency and stringency
The question is raised: what does a halakhic decisor do when, at the end of the analysis, several possibilities remain, or when there is a “lacuna” and no clear statement? It is said that if there is no statement, then it is apparently permitted, in line with the principle that was presented. From there the discussion moves to the question of leniency and stringency, on the grounds that many people use these terms intuitively without defining them, and that first-order halakhic ruling requires conceptualizing and defining terms in order to avoid mistakes. It is argued that a good definition of concepts sometimes “renders further analytic discussion unnecessary,” or at least narrows the range of possibilities.
Leniency and stringency are not “whatever is convenient”: the Rebbe of Sanz, doubtful blessings, and identifying with Jewish law
An intuitive view is presented according to which leniency means choosing the more convenient option, but an example is brought of the Rebbe of Sanz, who sat in the sukkah even when it was raining because his distress was in sitting outside the sukkah, and from this it is argued that personal comfort cannot be a stable measure of leniency and stringency. A case is also brought of doubtful blessings are treated leniently, alongside a person who suffers from not making a blessing, and it is said that if leniency meant “what feels good,” then the concept would vary from person to person. It is argued that the distinction depends on whether a person sees himself as “standing opposite the halakha” or “on the side of the halakha,” but it is emphasized that the conceptual conclusion does not rest on a psychology of comfort.
The Beit HaLevi as “lenient” with leniencies that look like stringencies
A story is brought from the “Brisk Haggadah” about the Beit HaLevi in Minsk facing an enlightened Jew who asked him to “be lenient,” and the Beit HaLevi presents “leniencies” such as the evening prayer being valid until dawn after the fact, permission for anyone to put on Rabbeinu Tam tefillin, permission for liturgical poems in the middle of prayer, permission to study on the eve of the Ninth of Av when it falls on the Sabbath, permission to fast on Rosh Hashanah, permission to fast for two days on Yom Kippur because of a calendrical doubt, and permission to count the Omer with a blessing even after forgetting one night. It is explained that the story is funny because these leniencies are perceived as stringencies, but it is argued that they really are leniencies in the precise sense, because they permit what others forbid. It is said that the confusion stems from the fact that once a permitted option is opened, additional considerations enter that create an expectation to make use of it, and so the bottom line may look stringent even though the ruling on the original clause is lenient.
Cases where it is not clear what counts as lenient and what counts as stringent: a foundling, the Sabbath, and Torah study
The topic of an “abandoned infant” in Ketubot is brought, where one follows the majority of the city, and if it is half and half then it is a doubt, and it is said that in a doubtful case one must be stringent. The yeshiva joke about the Sabbath and Torah study is presented, according to which with regard to both matters a Jew is obligated and a gentile is forbidden, so “what counts as a stringency” is not clear, and a joking solution is offered: “let him speak in Torah study.” The example is used to show that there are situations in which the intuitive distinction between leniency and stringency does not work.
The definition: leniency and stringency are determined by the number of halakhic possibilities
A definition is established according to which a lenient decisor is one who opens more halakhic possibilities, and a stringent decisor is one who closes doors and narrows possibilities, regardless of whether the added option is pleasant or difficult. It is explained that the Beit HaLevi, who allows fasting for two days on Yom Kippur, is “lenient” because he permits something that others forbid, even though making use of the permission can become obligatory because of the commandment of Yom Kippur, and that this is a further stage that is not part of the leniency itself. In the same way, it is explained that “in cases of doubt about blessings, rule leniently” means that there is no obligation to recite the blessing, that is, the possibility of not reciting it is opened, and only afterward does the law of “Do not take [God’s name in vain]” close off the option of reciting a blessing when there is no obligation, so that the practical prohibition is a stringency from another source built on top of the leniency in the laws of blessings.
Self-sacrifice as an example of a leniency that opens an option
It is said that one who permits self-sacrifice even beyond the three severe transgressions is “lenient,” because he opens an additional option in contrast to one who forbids it and leaves only one possibility. It is emphasized that this is a leniency even if the option itself is difficult and dangerous, because the measure is the opening of possibilities and not the level of difficulty. It is said that in this example, unlike Yom Kippur, there is no second layer that turns the permission into an obligation.
The blessing of thanksgiving, Tosafot Rosh, and the Tzelach: leniency in the laws of blessings versus stringency in “Do not take [God’s name in vain]”
A dispute is brought regarding the blessing of thanksgiving: whether it requires recitation in the presence of ten, two of whom are Torah scholars, or in the presence of twelve, two of whom are Torah scholars. It is said that Tosafot Rosh writes, “And since it was not resolved for us, stringently we require both.” The Tzelach struggles with how reciting a blessing in a doubtful case can be called a “stringency” when usually “in cases of doubt about blessings, rule leniently” means not to recite it out of concern for “Do not take [God’s name in vain].” It is explained that the terminology changes depending on the plane of discussion: in the laws of blessings, to say “he is not obligated to bless in the presence of ten” is a leniency because it opens the option of not reciting the blessing, but in the laws of “Do not take [God’s name in vain],” that same leniency leads to a prohibition against reciting the blessing, and therefore the bottom line looks stringent. By contrast, Tosafot, who obligates reciting the blessing even in the presence of ten, is stringent in the laws of blessings because he closes off the option of not reciting it, even if the final result seems lenient relative to the desire to bless.
Applying the rules to individual clauses, not to the bottom line, and the connection to first-order halakhic ruling
It is said that rules of doubt, such as Torah-level doubt requires stringency and rabbinic-level doubt requires leniency, are applied to each halakhic clause separately within the construction of the responsum, not to the bottom line as one single unit. It is argued that when different clauses are collected and each is decided separately, the final result can look like a stringent ruling even if in one of the clauses a leniency was ruled, because another clause closes an option that had been opened. The move is presented as a demonstration that defining concepts such as leniency and stringency prevents one from getting stuck in cases where intuition fails, and it concludes by saying that the continuation of the discussion about what this means for the role of the halakhic decisor will be postponed until next week, ending with “Shabbat shalom” and “Thank you very much.”
Full Transcript
[Speaker A] The final conclusion is that we are in a situation of saving life, that in the end this is a situation of saving life. And this whole thing really grated on me, in the sense that I would actually see the rabbi’s role—assuming he was inside there, I don’t know exactly what he was doing there, maybe he was also among the people who worked there, I don’t know. But I think that with a question like this, when a person turns to him from inside that crazy hell, I would expect the rabbi to come and say, “My dear son, this is not a matter for Jewish law. In this hell, you do whatever you need to do to save yourself, to save your friends; don’t get into polemics now or into defining whether this is saving life or not.” And that’s leadership too, because you can’t fail to give your people the…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s exactly where I started, exactly where I started, that what I would have expected is a short answer saying there’s no halakha here—what do you mean? You must do everything you can to save yourself. That was exactly the question.
[Speaker A] Yes, but in the end we still latch onto saving life; somehow we arrange ourselves around that. And I think here he should have told him: there’s no relevance right now to pilpul or to studying the laws of saving life. You do everything to save yourself and your friends; you don’t even need instructions from me.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s something else, but it’s still a consideration of saving life. What? I really don’t understand that. It’s saving life, except you’re saying that in saving life you don’t ask questions—you do everything you can. Fine. That is a halakhic instruction because of saving life. The Talmud itself says one does not ask, “and one who is asked is blameworthy,” and so on. But that comes from the laws of saving life; it’s not some other invention. No, I’m talking about the question of why he entered into all the halakhic discussions and didn’t give an answer based on the laws of saving life. Are you asking why resort to saving life at all?
[Speaker A] Right, right. What? Because that’s the answer, because maybe there are certain facets in Jewish law that—I don’t know—that wouldn’t define this exactly as saving life. But in the hell we’re talking about, he shouldn’t get into that now. Meaning, the rabbi should say: I don’t want you getting interested in definitions right now. This is an insane situation—do what you can.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t understand that claim. What do you mean? That is the halakha in the laws of saving life. Because there is saving life here, therefore you had to do everything and not ask questions. But that itself is an instruction within the laws of saving life; there isn’t something else.
[Speaker A] What does it mean that it’s hell? And if you find there some opinion of an Amora or some Tanna, that among some of the facts being discussed maybe at a certain point this is not exactly saving life—then now you’re going to enter that polemic, whether there is or isn’t? Clearly not. No, I think in this hell we have no right to do that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because you think that this hell is saving life. But that’s the question: if I find that in a certain context it’s not saving life, then take the “hell” out of the equation—it has nothing to do with hell. You have to work with the halakhic principles. So I’m saying, I gave two explanations there for why they nevertheless got into it, but you’re asking about the very need to resort to the concept of saving life before the specific discussions that I explained. Right, right. What? Because that’s the answer, because maybe it seemed self-evident, not even requiring explanation. That instruction is an instruction from the laws of saving life; it doesn’t come from some other clause, it comes from this one.
[Speaker D] Rabbi, if a religious, God-fearing person goes out to war from a sense of moral obligation, and less from a sense of obligation of an obligatory war, is he sanctifying God’s name?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s already a different question. It could be that he is, because there’s room to hesitate about it. I’m not sure, but it could be yes. Because regarding whether commandments require intention—I spoke earlier on the plane of whether commandments require belief, and I claim that according to everyone, commandments require belief. But regarding whether commandments require intention, that’s a dispute both among the halakhic decisors and in the Talmud. And according to the view that commandments do not require intention, then he certainly performed a commandment even if he did not intend it. And even according to the view that commandments do require intention, it could be that something like this is called intention. Meaning, it’s not clear that intention has to be something fully conscious. Intention can be something that… say I put on tefillin in synagogue in the morning. Now, at that moment I didn’t consciously think that I’m doing this for the sake of the commandment, but everyone understands what I’m doing there.
[Speaker E] Yes, but that’s when the rabbi knows the commandment of tefillin. A person who, say, doesn’t know about an obligatory war, that this halakha exists, and goes out of moral obligation but is a religious believer, then he…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he doesn’t know this commandment, it could be that he isn’t performing this commandment, so he’s just occupied with it inadvertently. Okay, that sounds reasonable to me anyway. That’s inadvertent involvement. Fine, so we’re at… I want to move on. I mentioned at the beginning of the discussion about the Holocaust a bit of… I just want to sum up this whole topic by returning in some way to first-order halakhic ruling, in the sense of how you actually build a responsum. I once gave a series about this here, a guided tour through responsa or something like that. How do you build a responsum? And I think that very often people don’t do it correctly, even rabbis. Meaning, I brought the example, I think, when we talked about first-order halakhic ruling, I brought the example of the responsum by the rabbis of Beit Hillel about an orphaned daughter reciting Kaddish. And the claim was, they started bringing, there is this responsum and that source and so on, and therefore an orphaned daughter can say Kaddish, and maybe it’s even appropriate for her to say Kaddish. That was their conclusion. And I said that beyond the fact that I think this whole discussion is a foolish discussion, there’s some misunderstanding here of how you’re even supposed to build a responsum, or how you conduct a halakhic discussion. Building a responsum is just the technical side, but how do you conduct a halakhic discussion? When you want to answer a question that comes before you, the first thing you need to do is actually gather all the relevant halakhic clauses. Torah-level laws, rabbinic laws, prohibitions, commandments, customs, all those things, everything that touches on the issue. After you’ve written yourself one such list, you need to go through each of those clauses and see, with respect to the situation before you, what follows from that clause. What does that clause say? Is there a commandment here, is there no commandment here, is there a prohibition here, is there no prohibition here, is this a custom, a rabbinic law, and so on. You go through all the clauses you collected like that, and then when you reach the bottom line, you need to summarize your whole discussion regarding all the clauses and finally reach the bottom line: whether it’s permitted, forbidden, whether there is a Torah-level commandment, a Torah-level prohibition, a rabbinic commandment, a custom, and the like. In that sense, that responsum I mentioned earlier regarding an orphaned daughter saying Kaddish, its structure is problematic, even before the question of what the conclusions are and how the discussion is conducted. The structure is problematic. Why? Because you can’t write a responsum before laying out the list of halakhic clauses relevant to our topic. Now when you look at the halakhic clauses relevant to our topic of an orphaned daughter saying Kaddish, you find the empty set. There aren’t any. There is no relevant halakhic clause touching the question of an orphaned daughter saying Kaddish. Maybe if you insist very, very strongly, you can talk about a woman’s singing voice being considered nakedness. If you really insist and really squeeze it, but even that doesn’t really pertain to the matter. That’s it. What is there besides that? Now once that’s the situation, then you haven’t passed the first clause of building a responsum, the list of clauses that need discussion. The first stage, yes? The list of clauses that need discussion. If the list is empty, then there’s nothing to discuss. So what are you discussing? You tell me, no, in that responsum and in this responsum and according to the view of the questioner in the responsum Tzintzenet HaMan, the woman can say Kaddish or can’t say Kaddish. What do you mean, can or can’t? Why shouldn’t she be able to? Which clause are we supposed to be discussing? Give me the list of clauses and let’s see. Is there a problem here of a woman’s voice, is there modesty here, is there, I don’t know, joining a quorum, not joining a quorum? Tell me the list of clauses, and now discuss each clause, yes or no. But there the responsum was: in that responsum it says that women say Kaddish, in that responsum they said that the custom was that they do not say Kaddish, so all in all she can say Kaddish because all kinds of places said yes. Why do I care what it says in that responsum or this responsum? Tell me, yes, if you want to shoot responsa, as our sages said. Yes. What do you want from me with all these responsa? After there are clauses for discussion, then let’s see what the sources say about each clause. You clarify each thing. There’s some really strange leap here. Now this is a disease. It’s a disease even in articles. When I read articles that come in, halakhic articles, people survey all kinds of opinions on some halakhic question, but they don’t point out what the discussion is about. Meaning, after you tell me there is such-and-such a clause, then you tell me there are opinions that this clause is a Torah-level commandment, this is a rabbinic commandment, this is a prohibition, this is here, disputes, bring sources, discuss, reasoning, issues, fine, and then summarize what this clause says. But if there are no clauses, then why are you bringing me precedents? Precedents about what? There is no discussion. If there is no discussion, then there is nothing to conduct. Meaning, this is a first-order problem squared. After there are clauses, then I say, with each clause… with each and every clause I would discuss at first order and not at second order. Meaning, I wouldn’t start with what so-and-so says about this clause and what this one says about this clause and how he summarizes it. No. I would start discussing it from its sources and see what the reasoning is and see what common sense suggests, and of course bring precedents that help here and there to present the different possibilities, that’s all fine. But not precedents in order to decide by force of what is written in the precedents. But this is a problem, this distinction between first order and second order that is itself first-order. I’m making this distinction at second order. Meaning, I’m saying, or actually that was second order, I’m saying if there are no clauses then there is nothing to discuss, neither at first order nor at second order, so what is the discussion about? When you bring me that simply over there they said that a woman can say Kaddish, then I say that’s second-order ruling. No, that’s not second-order ruling, that’s stupidity. Because when you have nothing to discuss, then why do I care what that responsum writes? Meaning, it’s far worse than second-order halakhic ruling. Second-order halakhic ruling is after there are clauses, there is an issue, there is something to discuss. Now the question is how do we discuss? Do we discuss at first order or at second order? But to discuss in a place where there is nothing to discuss, that’s already third order, not second order. There is nothing to discuss. And this reminds me that once I heard in the name of the previous Klausenburg Rebbe, Divrei Yatziv, yes, that he said that if he had not found a permit to cut challah on the Sabbath, he would hold that this too is forbidden. In his view everything is forbidden unless there is proof that it is permitted. Now if that’s the case, then I can understand why you need to bring responsa to say that a woman can say Kaddish, but of course that is ignorance to say such a thing. After all, it’s obvious that the truth is the opposite. Everything is permitted unless there is a source that forbids it. That’s obvious. To forbid, you need a source; to permit, you do not need a source. Meaning, without there being a prohibition, do you need a source to permit? Everything is permitted unless it has been forbidden. This is the principle of legality. In the legal world there is such a thing called the principle of legality. What is the principle of legality? It has two sides. For the citizen, everything is permitted unless the law forbids it. Whatever the law does not speak about is permitted. For the government, for the authorities, everything is forbidden unless the law permits it. That’s the principle of legality. So in Jewish law too it’s like that. The first part. The second part isn’t relevant, but the first part is also true in Jewish law. Meaning, everything that has not been forbidden is permitted. You don’t need proofs to permit; you need proofs to forbid. That is the basis of the whole story. And therefore when you go to discuss something, you need to gather all the forbidding clauses, not just gather clauses in general but all the forbidding clauses. Don’t bring me permitting clauses; there are no permitting clauses. Permitting clauses are not interesting. Gather all the forbidding clauses, and now discuss each of those clauses: is there really a prohibition in the situation we’re talking about? And then in the end you’ll reach the bottom line. But if there are no forbidding clauses, then what is the discussion about? Why do I need precedents that permit? It just kills me, and every time again it’s the same story. Articles come to me, all kinds of articles, and I see them surveying opinions here and opinions there. Why do I care about the opinions? Tell me what the problem is. Which problem are you discussing? Not what these opinions said this way and those opinions said that way. Which problem are you discussing? You’re not defining which problem you’re discussing. Now there are some who do, not that everyone ignores this, but there are lots of articles and rulings that are built in what you might call third-order fashion. Meaning, you’ve become so used to the idea that you’re not supposed to discuss at all—that is, there is no stage where we need to ask ourselves whether there is even a discussion here. No, every matter has a discussion. Now the only question is what these decisors say and those decisors say and those decisors say, but the fact that there is a discussion is obvious. And for some reason people aren’t aware that first of all you need to clarify whether there is even a discussion at all. What is there to discuss here? So in that sense I’m saying it’s not just first order and second order, but actually third order, yes? It’s already really folly; I don’t know how to relate to such a thing. So that’s just a supplement to this issue of first and second order. But I want to use this supplement to go a bit deeper into how one really answers a responsum, or what the role of a halakhic decisor is. Now I talked about what a decisor is supposed to do. He is supposed to gather the clauses, discuss each clause, and then in the end reach the bottom line. What happens if there are several possibilities at the bottom line? Several possibilities. It could be yes, it could be no, it could be done this way, it could be done another way, and in the end it turns out that there is no clear statement, meaning there’s a lacuna. What do you do in such a situation? If there is no statement, then it’s apparently permitted, that’s what I said earlier. If there are two possibilities for halakhic conduct, what do I do? Here I want to go a bit into the question I’ve already discussed in other series, the question of leniency and stringency. But I’ll begin the question of leniency and stringency with a definition of what leniency is and what stringency is, but you’ll see that from there we’ll reach the question of what the role of a halakhic decisor is. What exactly is a decisor supposed to do? In my view this is a topic that many people do not really understand, including the decisors, or especially the decisors. So maybe I’ll really start with the puzzle. Yes, the concept of leniency and stringency is something we are very used to using. It’s pretty clear to us intuitively what a lenient ruling is, what a stringent ruling is, who is a lenient decisor, who is a stringent decisor. And therefore somehow we don’t find it necessary to examine the concept of leniency itself. What is leniency? What is leniency and what is stringency? And in a moment I’ll try to convince you that these are not concepts whose meaning is self-evident. I’ll just note that the discussion I’m having here is connected to this series in two different ways. First, it’s another example of how people don’t clarify the concepts they use, and therefore they also arrive at mistakes. There is this habit of using concepts because they are intuitively understood by us, and not investing effort or energy in reaching a definition or explicitly conceptualizing the concepts we use. Again, that is one of the characteristics of first-order halakhic ruling: to enter into the definition of the concepts, to try to understand the concepts under discussion. And I said that it turns out—I even demonstrated this with several things—that once you conceptualize and define the concepts well, very often the conceptual discussion that comes afterward becomes unnecessary, because analysis of the concept often already leads us to conclusions, or at least rules out some possibilities, and saves us part of the scholarly work. So I spoke about that, and in that sense I want to do the same thing here with the concepts of leniency and stringency. Meaning, to try and define what the concept of leniency is and what the concept of stringency is, as we talked about what a positive commandment is and what a prohibition is, and all sorts of things—I brought several examples of that. The second thing: we said that our topic is learning and ruling, and here I’m simply arriving at it in terms of content. I want to understand what halakhic ruling is. What is the role of a halakhic decisor? What does he do when he issues a ruling? Okay? So in that sense too, this clarification touches on the series we are dealing with here. So first of all I’ll really start with this puzzle of what leniency actually is. Usually when we think about the question what leniency is, the feeling is that leniency is basically choosing the more comfortable option—that’s called leniency. Right? It seems to me that’s the initial intuitive answer: to rule leniently means to do the easier thing. But in this context, since I mentioned the Sanz Rebbe earlier, let’s mention him again—by chance, I don’t know why he came up twice—he would sit in the sukkah, for example, even when it was raining. Just like that, I don’t know, that’s what the story says. Why? Someone who is distressed is exempt from the sukkah, and he was distressed when he sat outside the sukkah. On the festival of Sukkot he couldn’t not sit in the sukkah; for him that was terrible distress, his soul was deeply distressed by it, and therefore he sat in the sukkah even though it was raining. Okay? Now what is the difference between him and a regular person who is distressed when it rains in the sukkah? I think the difference is in the question whether you view your own interest as something standing over against Jewish law, or whether you identify with Jewish law itself. You are on the side of Jewish law, not on the side opposite Jewish law. When I stand opposite Jewish law, then the feeling is that to be lenient means to get out from under Jewish law, that it shouldn’t bother me, okay? That I should do the comfortable thing. That’s called leniency, to do something easy; I’m exempt, I don’t need to, that’s leniency, it’s more comfortable for me that way. But for the Sanz Rebbe, being obligated was actually more comfortable. He stood on the side of Jewish law, not on the side of those standing opposite Jewish law. So what would his law be? Let’s say with blessings, for example, he really, really suffers from the fact that he’ll have to eat without reciting a blessing in a case of doubt about blessings, yes? He really suffers from eating without reciting a blessing. Now in a doubt concerning blessings, we rule leniently. What does leniency mean for the Sanz Rebbe? Leniency for the Sanz Rebbe, ostensibly, means to make the blessing. Because leniency means what makes things easier for you? To make the blessing, so make the blessing. In a doubt concerning blessings, rule leniently. But that’s not how we see it. Why not? After all, if the concept of leniency really means do what is comfortable, what you prefer, what is pleasant for you, then for each person it should be whatever is pleasant for him. For me it’s pleasant not to make the blessing; for the Sanz Rebbe it’s pleasant to make the blessing. Or for me it’s pleasant not to sit in the sukkah when it’s raining, and for him it’s pleasant to sit in the sukkah when it’s raining. So it should be something person-dependent. So you’ll say fine, no distinctions, we go by the reasonable person. No—but the reasonable person is basically standing opposite Jewish law. For the reasonable person it is more comfortable not to make the blessing. I don’t know, it’s a little slanderous toward the Jewish people to say that that’s the reasonable person. I don’t think that explanation is sufficient. So that brings us back to the question: then what is leniency and what is stringency? I’ll maybe bring an example. In the Brisk Haggadah—the Brisk Haggadah is a real experience. Berl’s, yes? He already had two volumes, Haggadah, or at least that was true a few years ago, maybe more have come out since. It’s a real experience. Just the example that always comes to mind for me in connection with that Haggadah: in “Who Knows One?” there is “Who knows thirteen?” Thirteen who knows. Ask yourself: what is thirteen who knows? Thirteen attributes—“The Lord, the Lord, a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger,” right? The thirteen attributes of mercy. For Hasidim, that’s good. In the Brisk Haggadah, “thirteen who knows” means the thirteen hermeneutical principles of Rabbi Yishmael. A fortiori, verbal analogy, building a principle from one verse, building a principle from two verses. Meaning, I think that captures that Haggadah in a nutshell; it’s really the distilled essence of the Brisk Haggadah. Anyway, to our point, here, take another example from the Brisk Haggadah. At the end, at the end of the Haggadah, stories appear. Wonder stories about our sages. Now among these stories, it’s told there that the Beit HaLevi visited the city of Minsk, and someone from the wealthy people of the city came in to him, who was, Heaven forbid, from the camp of the maskilim. And he told the Beit HaLevi that the time had come for all the rabbis of the generation and so on to begin easing things a bit. They’re always being stringent and so on; the time has come to ease up a little. That would surely bring all the Jewish people closer to Torah, and he strongly recommended to him to be lenient. There’s nothing new under the sun; they didn’t invent this today. So he proposes this to the Beit HaLevi, and the Beit HaLevi smiled and said to him, I’m entirely with you, I really think you are right. I have quite a few extremely far-reaching leniencies in which I have been lenient for ages and ages. Here, I’ll bring you a few examples. First example—out of several, of course—he says to him: here’s the first example. There are those who are stringent and say that the time for the evening prayer is until midnight, and if you missed it you can’t pray anymore. And I have ruled, says the Beit HaLevi, that I am lenient: you may pray until dawn if you missed it. Of course ideally until midnight, but if you missed it you may pray until dawn. After that he says: there are those who are stringent regarding Rabbeinu Tam tefillin. In what way? That you have to be someone established as especially pious in order to wear them, otherwise it is arrogance and so on. Says the Beit HaLevi: I am actually lenient; anyone, even if he is not established as especially pious, may also wear Rabbeinu Tam tefillin. He says: there are those who are stringent not to say liturgical poems in the middle of prayer because of interruption. I rule that it is permitted. There are those who are stringent not to study on the eve of the Ninth of Av when it falls on the Sabbath, and I rule leniently: one may study even actual laws. There are those who are stringent that one may not fast on Rosh Hashanah, and I am lenient: it is permitted, I rule that one may also fast on Rosh Hashanah. There are those who are stringent that one may not observe two days, fast for two days on Yom Kippur because of doubt about the day. I rule leniently: one may also fast for two days; if you’re in doubt then you may fast two days, it is permitted to fast. There are those who are stringent that if one forgot one night to count the Omer, then again he can no longer count with a blessing, and the Beit HaLevi says I am lenient—incidentally this is a known leniency of the Beit HaLevi—I am lenient and I say that one may count with a blessing even if one missed a day. Fine. So that enlightened fellow of course returned home in utter disappointment, and the souls of all the Briskers rejoiced and were glad. What a mighty blow on the thigh he struck those wicked maskilim. But this story, beyond stories about the maskilim in general—and I’m no admirer of them—but in this story there is an interesting point. Why is this story funny? If it is funny. Well, it made me laugh. Why is this story funny? Because all of us have the feeling that this is a collection of stringencies. None of this is a leniency. What do you mean, you’re lenient that one may pray? I could have gone to sleep without praying, and you’re lenient? No, no, I can pray even after midnight. Right. Or I would have thought you can’t fast for two days on Yom Kippur, and you’re lenient—yes, if you are in doubt then you may fast for two days. The famous dispute, yes, about the international date line on Yom Kippur in Mir or in Shanghai—just as an aside—the Mir yeshiva that reached Shanghai. Yes, and so on with all these leniencies that you can continue counting with a blessing. All these leniencies seem to us like stringencies, not leniencies. And therefore it’s taken as a kind of yes, he really landed a crushing blow on that enlightened fellow and shut his mouth. How did he shut his mouth? Because he told him: look, I’m lenient with extraordinary leniencies, which in fact are all stringencies. But what’s the truth—are these leniencies or stringencies? So why did he call them leniencies? Then why didn’t he say: I’m also stringent that it’s forbidden to eat, I don’t know, meat with milk, meat after milk, milk after meat, six hours and not three hours. Why didn’t he bring that stringency? Because no one would think that that’s a leniency. Obviously that’s a plain stringency. He brought examples that at first glance look like leniencies, but on second glance you understand that they actually aren’t leniencies but stringencies. So there are really situations here with a double meaning. The concepts of leniency and stringency here are not entirely clear as to where each one takes me. Yes, that reminds me a bit—this morning in the lesson, I think I mentioned, I think it was this morning, I don’t remember anymore. There is, as you know, in the Talmud a well-known yeshiva joke. In tractate Ketubot at the end of the first chapter, they discuss when we find an abandoned baby, yes, a foundling. We don’t know whether he is Jewish or non-Jewish; what do we do? We go by the majority of people in that city. If most are non-Jews, then the assumption is that he is a non-Jew; if most are Jews, the assumption is that he is a Jew; if it’s fifty-fifty, then he is in doubt. What does he do in a case of doubt? In a case of doubt he has to be stringent. Fine. In any event, if stringency means being Jewish, then he is stringent; and if stringency means being non-Jewish, then he is stringent. But in situations of doubt he has to be stringent. So in the yeshivot they ask: but what should he do regarding Torah study and Sabbath observance? Why? Because in both those matters, in most matters, the Jew is obligated and the non-Jew is not obligated, exempt, so what does it mean to be stringent? To be stringent means to assume you are Jewish. Usually. And the alternative is that if you are on the side that you are a non-Jew, then there is no obligation, only no obligation. Fine. But if on the Jewish side there is an obligation and on the non-Jewish side there is no obligation, then do the obligation as though you are Jewish—that’s called being stringent. But in Sabbath and Torah study the situation is different. Regarding both, a Jew is obligated to observe the Sabbath and study Torah, and a non-Jew is forbidden—not just not obligated—forbidden to observe the Sabbath and study Torah. So regarding these two subjects, what do you do with an abandoned baby? In a case where he’s half Jewish and half non-Jewish, he is in doubt. In doubt you have to go stringently, but here what is stringency? Is stringency to study Torah or is stringency not to study Torah? There is no definition here of what is stringency and what is leniency. So in the yeshivot the joke says: the question is good and the answer is mockery. In the yeshivot they say that what he should do regarding Torah study is talk in learning. To talk in learning is the way yeshiva students waste Torah study time. If you don’t have the energy to learn, what do you do? He says some little insight, the second one raises a difficulty, the other one offers some answer. You don’t have the strength to sit and learn, to dig into Rabbi Akiva Eiger and the topic and really exert yourself, so you talk in learning. Yes, talking in learning is something for which no one can accuse you of wasting Torah study, but you’re also not studying Torah—it’s a kind of yeshiva idleness, so to speak. So yes, in the yeshivot they joke about it and say that the abandoned baby has a solution: what should he do regarding Torah study? He should talk in learning. For our purposes, this is a situation where truly you cannot define what is leniency and what is stringency. Usually we are used to the idea that when we have a doubt, one side is clearly lenient and one side is stringent. In a rabbinic-level doubt, rule leniently; in a Torah-level doubt, rule stringently. But it’s clear what is leniency and what is stringency in every doubt. Isn’t it? But there are doubts in which it is not clear what is leniency and what is stringency. So I say, fine. But I also say that even in places where it is clear what is leniency and what is stringency, I claim that people do not understand these concepts of leniency and stringency. Because I claim that the Beit HaLevi’s cases really are leniencies. They really are leniencies. Because the Beit HaLevi permits things there that others forbid. Yes? Others forbid fasting two days on Yom Kippur and he permits it. Why isn’t that a leniency? He permits something that others forbid—that’s a leniency. The feeling that says this is not a leniency comes from the same place I described earlier: the feeling that I stand over against Jewish law. And the moment I am obligated in more laws, then that’s stringency, not leniency. To fast two days on Yom Kippur is a stringency. But from the standpoint of the definition, where one person forbids and another does not forbid, then obviously the second is the lenient one, not the first. So how should we relate to the Beit HaLevi’s lenient ruling allowing fasting for two days on Yom Kippur? I’ll tell you.
[Speaker F] Rabbi, Rabbi, but surely it’s obvious that if you bring in the element of identifying with the commandment, then the whole thing flips around. Take the commandment of the binding of Isaac. If we take Rabbi Kook’s view, and also the view of common sense, Abraham our father identified completely with the divine command to sacrifice his son. He went cheerful and happy, as Rabbi Kook writes in Olat Re’iyah. So what kind of trial is there here? He got a prize, it made his evening, it made his week, he has a happy week, he goes cheerful and happy to the binding of Isaac. So are you going to say this isn’t a trial? Turn it into a joke? Of course not. You can’t bring in the element of identifying with the commandment. The moment a person identifies with the command, of course it also isn’t hard for him. He does it with all the joy in the world.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, and therefore it’s a leniency. What’s the problem? The question whether it’s not a trial is a different discussion. I’m asking why it isn’t a leniency. Why it isn’t a trial is obvious, but what does that have to do with us? I’m asking why it isn’t a leniency.
[Speaker F] That doesn’t turn it into an element of leniency. If it turns it into an element of leniency only because it’s comfortable for him and he is happy to do it, then the binding of Isaac also stops being a trial and turns into a prize.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, again. What does that have to do with it? The question whether it’s a trial or not a trial is not a halakhic question, it’s a factual question. If the thing is easy for me, then it really isn’t a trial. But the question of leniency and stringency is a halakhic question. So if this thing is easy for me, why is this thing not called a lenient ruling? It won’t be a trial, so what? But it is a lenient ruling. Two different discussions—what’s the connection? You mentioned it—and why was I laughing while you were talking? Because I remembered the Kli Chemdah. He says, he brings—I don’t remember on which Torah portion already—he brings there that he doesn’t understand why we celebrate Hanukkah or Purim—sorry, Purim. Why do we celebrate Purim? On Purim, after all, a decree was essentially issued that all of us were to die, by the decree of Ahasuerus, and we were saved. So that’s what we celebrate. The Rebbe of Gur asks—the Kli Chemdah brings it in his name—he asks: what is there to be joyful about? You lost the great commandment of sanctifying God’s name, to die in sanctification of God’s name. Why are you so happy? So what exactly are we celebrating on Purim? Fine, questions—we’ve already heard better questions. That Abraham our father was happy and merry, I don’t know, I’m not sure he was exactly jubilant there, but even if he was happy and merry, then I’m willing to accept that for him it wasn’t a trial. But that doesn’t touch the question whether it is leniency or stringency. If leniency means the thing that is pleasant for me, then why do I care in what sense it is pleasant for me? Whether it is pleasant because it is the divine command or pleasant because it gives me a warm feeling inside. Bottom line, if that is what is pleasant for me, then that is leniency. That is what I want to do. So ease things for me—allow me to do what I want. As a criterion for leniency, that sounds like a reasonable criterion. I want to tell you where the mistake is. When the Beit HaLevi is lenient in allowing a two-day fast on Yom Kippur, what is the point here? To be lenient means that you may fast for two days, not that you must fast for two days. And to say that you may fast for two days really is a leniency. If someone else says I forbid you to fast for two days, forbidden, and the Beit HaLevi says there is no prohibition, it is permitted—whoever says there is no prohibition is the lenient decisor. He says it is permitted. Except that if there is no danger to life issue and it is permitted to fast two days, then now the expectation is that we should indeed fast two days. Because if it is permitted to fast two days and you have a legal doubt, you need to fulfill your obligation to fast on Yom Kippur, then you are required to fast two days. That is no longer leniency. And the leniency is in the background. When the Beit HaLevi permitted fasting for two days, when he did not join the prohibition against fasting for two days, he really was lenient. Why does it not look like a leniency to us? Because after we are told that it is permitted to fast for two days, then automatically we are expected to fast for two days, because there is an obligation to fast on Yom Kippur. That is already stringency, not leniency. The lenient ruling is only the permission to fast for two days, not the obligation to fast for two days. The permission to fast for two days is a leniency. But notice: even when I speak about the permission to fast for two days, why is that called leniency? What, do people want to fast for two days? No. It is a leniency not because it is more pleasant for me. It is a leniency because I am permitting something that someone else prohibited. It does not matter whether the thing I permitted is pleasant for me or not pleasant for me. The very fact that someone closed the door and said this path is not halakhically possible, and another decisor says I open the door, this is indeed a halakhically possible path—then the second decisor is a lenient decisor. Or in other words—and now I’ll formulate this more generally—the relation between leniency and stringency is determined by the number of halakhic options standing before you. The lenient decisor is the decisor who offers you more halakhic options. That is what it means to be lenient. It has nothing at all to do with whether it is pleasant for you or not; the everyday notions of leniency are simply wrong. A decisor who is lenient is a decisor who presents you with more possibilities. Now if a decisor says it is forbidden to fast for two days on Yom Kippur, then he has locked the door: you may fast only one day; fasting two days is not an option. Once a decisor comes and says no, fasting one day is permitted and fasting two days is permitted, there is no prohibition in either, then he is lenient, because he opened another halakhic option. After those two halakhic options are open, now there is something else: there is a commandment to fast on Yom Kippur. The leniency is a leniency in the laws—yes, danger to life or prohibition because of danger to life—that there is no prohibition of danger to life here. From the standpoint of the obligation to fast on Yom Kippur, “you shall afflict yourselves,” that is a commandment that imposes an obligation on me, that is stringency. But once I’m allowed to fast for two days, and that is a leniency, then the commandment comes and says: if it is permitted, then you must fast for two days. That is no longer leniency, and it is a result of the fact that I ruled leniently at the previous stage. So there you have it.
[Speaker A] But I can choose not to use the leniency and return to the first stringency from before they were lenient. I don’t have to continue with the leniency.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not that you have to; the question is what the Jewish law is. Whether the Jewish law follows the first decisor or the second decisor.
[Speaker A] But the leniency gives me options; it doesn’t forbid me from the first path.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Specifically on Yom Kippur, since there is no prevention on grounds of danger to life from fasting for two days, and that is the leniency, now the commandment to fast on Yom Kippur comes and says: good, if there is no obstacle, you need to fast for two days. But that is already stage two. The leniency is at stage one. The leniency is in the laws of danger to life. It says there is no danger to life in fasting for two days. Fine, it is permitted to fast for two days. I myself wouldn’t do that if it were up to me, because I’m against the Torah—I’m in favor of not fasting. Okay, so I won’t do it. Fine. But in principle they opened another option for me; that is a lenient ruling. Except that here, beyond the danger-to-life questions, there is also the question of the commandment to fast on Yom Kippur. And once from the standpoint of danger to life it is permitted to fast for two days, the commandment says: good, then fast two days. I’ll bring you another example so that this becomes clearer. Look, there is a rule in the laws of blessings: in a doubt about blessings, we rule leniently. Why do we rule leniently in a doubt about blessings? Because a blessing is a rabbinic law, and therefore in a doubt about blessings, we rule leniently. Now what is called leniency in a doubt about blessings? I asked earlier. Does leniency in a doubt about blessings mean not to make the blessing or to make the blessing? According to how I’ve defined it now, leniency in a doubt about blessings means that there is no obligation to make the blessing. Once they tell you that there is an obligation to make the blessing, yes, then they have basically locked before you the option of not making the blessing. If someone says there is no obligation to make the blessing, then he has opened that option. He has offered you another option that had previously been closed off to you. So he is lenient, because he added another halakhic option. But once there is an option to make the blessing and an option not to make the blessing, and both are open—because we ruled leniently—now there is the prohibition of “You shall not take [the name of the Lord your God in vain].” Because if you recite a blessing where you are not obligated to recite one, then you have uttered God’s name in vain. And therefore they tell you: in that case, don’t make the blessing. So what does it mean to say that in a doubt about blessings we rule leniently? It means that one is not obligated to make the blessing, not that it is forbidden to make the blessing. And when they say that I am not obligated to make the blessing, that really is leniency. Because someone who says that I am obligated to make the blessing is saying: you have only one halakhic option, to make the blessing. Someone who says I am not obligated to make the blessing says: you have two halakhic options, either to make the blessing or not to make the blessing. From the standpoint of the laws of blessings, both options exist. Except that after they tell me that both options exist and that I may also refrain from making the blessing, then there is no justification to make the blessing, because there is the prohibition of uttering God’s name in vain. Therefore they tell you not to make the blessing. But the prohibition against making the blessing is not part of the lenient ruling in a doubt about blessings. It is a stringency in the laws of “You shall not take,” which comes on top of the leniency in the laws of blessings. In the laws of blessings we really are lenient. And to be lenient in the laws of blessings means that you may also refrain from making the blessing. You may refrain from making the blessing. Not that you must refrain from making the blessing. You may also make the blessing, and you may also not make the blessing; you are not obligated to make the blessing. Now the laws of “You shall not take” come and say: good, if you are not obligated to make the blessing, then you are forbidden to make the blessing. There is “You shall not take.” But the prohibition here is not part of the lenient ruling. After the two options were opened by the lenient ruling, the prohibition of “You shall not take” came and closed one of them, and that really is not part of the lenient ruling. That’s why it’s so confusing. They tell you: in a doubt about blessings, be lenient, and therefore what? Therefore you are forbidden to make the blessing. Forbidden? Since when is a prohibition a leniency? If one person says you are allowed to make the blessing and another says you are forbidden to make the blessing, the second is stricter, not more lenient. He says something is forbidden to you that the first says is permitted. I say forbidden—then I’m the stringent one, not the lenient one. The leniency in a doubt about blessings is that one may refrain from making the blessing, not that one must refrain from making the blessing, but that one may refrain from making the blessing. And now “You shall not take” comes and says: good, if one may refrain from making the blessing, then there is no permission to make the blessing, because there is “You shall not take.” But the prohibition here is not part of the lenient ruling. After the two options were opened by the lenient ruling, the prohibition of “You shall not take” came and closed one of them, and that really is not part of the lenient ruling. That’s why it’s so confusing. They tell you: in a doubt about blessings, be lenient, and therefore what? Therefore you are forbidden to make the blessing. Forbidden? Since when is a prohibition a leniency? If one person says you are allowed to make the blessing and another says you are forbidden to make the blessing, the second is stricter, not more lenient. He says something is forbidden to you that the first says is permitted. I say forbidden, so I’m the stringent one, not the lenient one. The leniency in a doubt about blessings is that one may refrain from making the blessing, not that one must refrain from making the blessing, but that one may refrain from making the blessing. And now “You shall not take” comes and says: good, if one may refrain from making the blessing, then there is no permission to make the blessing, because there is “You shall not take.” So this is really parallel to what I said earlier about fasting two days on Yom Kippur. Just one second.
[Speaker G] Rabbi, if I may comment, the laws of giving up one’s life could also be a good example for this issue. To give up one’s life—whether it is permitted or forbidden to give up one’s life for transgressions other than the three cardinal sins.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Whoever says it is permitted to give up one’s life is lenient, not stringent. It’s just that there, I think, there isn’t the second layer that if it is permitted then you also have to. You don’t have to. There it really remains at the level of permission. Not like on Yom Kippur, where if it is permitted for you…
[Speaker C] Fine, there—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s true that this is a leniency of the kind of the Beit HaLevi’s leniencies, but it really is a leniency. It really is a leniency—that it is permitted for you to give up your life. Why is that a leniency? Because it opens another option for you. Whoever says that it is forbidden to give up one’s life leaves only one option: not to give up one’s life. Whoever says it is possible has opened another option for you. If he opened another option, then he is lenient, a lenient decisor. The lenient decisor is a decisor who opens more options. Now, the additional option he opens may be an option that is much less comfortable for me, as in this case—giving up one’s life. It’s not because he is allowing me to do something comfortable or pleasant. No. The very fact that he allows me something that someone else does not allow me means that he is lenient, that he is a lenient decisor. Now what I do with that—that’s my consideration. Once I have two possibilities, now I can decide what I will do with them. And when I decide to give up my life, that is not called my being lenient. But the fact that I am permitted to give up my life—that is a lenient ruling. Fine. Now, there is an interesting example of this. The Talmud in tractate Berakhot discusses the blessing of thanksgiving, and deliberates whether it needs to be said before ten, of whom two are Torah scholars, or before twelve, of whom two are Torah scholars. Fine, two possibilities. “And they acted stringently, even though there were no two rabbis”—two rabbis, sorry. By contrast, Tosafot HaRosh writes there: “And since it was not resolved for us, stringently we require both.” And Tosafot HaRosh says, what does “stringently” mean? That you need both ten—you need twelve, of whom two are Torah scholars—not ten and two Torah scholars. That is called stringency. And Tosafot says no, one recites the blessing even if there are ten with two Torah scholars. That is called stringency. What is the difference between them? The Tzelach wonders about it. He says, I don’t understand what this is about.
[Speaker H] According to what you said earlier, then according to Tosafot it should have been leniency, because he opens an additional option; he also permits with ten, among whom are two Torah scholars.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the Tzelach really asks that. The Tzelach asks: “I do not know how to explain the intention of Tosafot. What stringency is this—to recite the blessing without two Torah scholars? After all, in every doubt concerning blessings we rule leniently and do not recite the blessing because of the doubt of ‘You shall not take.’ And here Tosafot says yes, to recite the blessing, and that is called by him leniency.” He says, “And that is the reason the Rosh and the Tur go stringently.” What I said earlier: stringently means not to recite the blessing if you do not have twelve and two Torah scholars. But Tosafot says they go leniently—meaning, what is stringency? He means that it’s the leniency. Meaning, what Tosafot HaRosh says: “Since it was not resolved for us, stringently we require both.” What does that mean? Is it a stringent or a lenient ruling when he requires the maximum forum?
[Speaker C] It’s stringency.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ostensibly that is stringency, right? Not so simple. Because he is basically saying, he is basically saying that if you have ten and two Torah scholars, then don’t recite the blessing, right? Because you need twelve. But not reciting the blessing is a lenient ruling. After all, you essentially have a doubt whether to recite the blessing when there are only ten with two Torah scholars here, right? That is basically the practical difference between the two sides of the doubt. What happens if I don’t have twelve, I have only ten and among them two Torah scholars? According to one side of the doubt, I may recite the blessing. According to the other side, I may not recite the blessing because twelve are required. What should the rule that in a doubt concerning blessings we rule leniently tell us?
[Speaker A] That I can recite the blessing?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not to recite the blessing. In a doubt concerning blessings we rule leniently. What does it mean to rule leniently in a doubt concerning blessings? Not to recite the blessing.
[Speaker A] But the person who came to recite the thanksgiving blessing, he does want to recite the thanksgiving blessing; he wants to find a way to be able to recite it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that brings us back again—
[Speaker A] —to the person’s own standpoint.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Against Jewish law or with Jewish law. But as I already said, that’s not it. The point is this—look, this really is not a simple question. What exactly is the leniency and what is the stringency here? Because in the usual terminology, “in cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently” means not to recite the blessing. If you have ten people, and among them two Torah scholars, if we rule leniently here, the ruling should have been not to recite the blessing, like Tosafot and the Rosh. And yet they call that a stringency. Why do they call it a stringency? It’s really a lenient ruling—when there’s doubt about blessings, we rule leniently. So why do they say this is called ruling stringently?
[Speaker C] It’s a stringency in that respect.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because when they forbid you to recite the blessing, that’s a stringency, right? If someone allows you to recite the blessing, he’s being lenient—he’s giving you another option. Someone who forbids you to recite it is being stringent—he’s closed off that option, you can’t recite the blessing.
[Speaker I] If he allows you to recite it, then he obligates you to recite it. I get it—if he allows you to recite it, then he obligates you to recite it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Who is “he”?
[Speaker I] No, I mean, the one who permits it—what the Rabbi…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Tosafot. Tosafot, who says that you can recite the blessing even with ten—ten and two Torah scholars. Yes, so I’ll get to Tosafot in a moment. First of all, the Rosh and the Tur. The Rosh and the Tur say only with twelve. With ten, don’t recite the blessing. That parallels what we know from the rest of Jewish law: in cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently—because “in cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently” means not to recite the blessing, right? So applying that rule to this case brings you to the Rosh and the Tur. But for some reason the terminology used is specifically “a stringent ruling.” Why do they call it a stringent ruling? Because in truth, when they tell you that you may not recite the blessing, that is a stringent ruling. Tosafot is lenient and says you may recite the blessing—yes, the stringencies of Beit HaLevi, the leniencies of Beit HaLevi. Tosafot is lenient with you and says you may recite the blessing even with ten. And the Rosh and the Tur are stringent—they say no, with ten you may not recite the blessing. In the usual definitions of leniency and stringency, that really is a stringent ruling. From the standpoint of the laws of blessings, it’s a lenient ruling. Because that ruling basically says: don’t recite the blessing. Or in other words, it says that with ten and with twelve you are not obligated to recite the blessing. And that is a lenient ruling. But since you are not obligated to recite it, then because of “You shall not take [God’s name in vain],” you are also forbidden to recite it. So when the Rosh and the Tur call it a stringency, what they mean is a stringency in terms of the bottom line. After all, in the end we forbid you to recite the blessing, against Tosafot, so that’s called going stringently. Even though in the usual language of the Talmud, to rule that one should not recite a blessing in a certain situation is a lenient ruling. Why? Because ruling not to recite the blessing in a certain situation means ruling that one is not obligated to recite it. But if one is not obligated, then because of “You shall not take,” it is also forbidden. So when I look at the laws of blessings, it’s a lenient ruling; when I look at the laws of “You shall not take,” it’s a stringent ruling. So Tosafot and the Rosh, when they called it a stringency, meant a stringency in the laws of “You shall not take,” but that is exactly the lenient ruling in the laws of blessings. And in that sense, the Rosh and Tosafot are right, as Tzelach says. Yes, he says: what do you mean? “In cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently” means not to recite the blessing.
[Speaker H] How does Tosafot—Tosafot was actually more precise in the wording when he said “stringently,” when all in all he allows reciting with ten.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He didn’t say stringently, he said leniently.
[Speaker H] No, you mentioned stringently at the beginning, didn’t you?
[Speaker G] You said stringency, stringency, wait.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah yes, “and they acted stringently even though there were two rabbis there.”
[Speaker H] So that fits perfectly according to—his wording fits your definition even better.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It fits my definition depending on what you’re focusing on. Are you focusing on the laws of blessings or on the laws of “You shall not take”? In the laws of blessings, Tosafot and the Rosh are lenient. And when they spoke about stringency, they were speaking about “You shall not take”—a stringency in the laws of “You shall not take.” But in the laws of blessings, it’s a leniency: that with ten you are not obligated to recite the blessing. But if you are not obligated, then it is also forbidden. Therefore blessings are recited only with twelve. When Tosafot says, “I go stringently, and therefore blessings are recited even with ten,” what does he mean? That’s a stringency in the laws of blessings. In what sense? That even with ten you are obligated to recite the blessing. To say that you are obligated to do something is a stringency, because it means you have to recite the blessing. Now there’s room to discuss how that fits, generally, with the rule that in cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently. That’s a halakhic question about Tosafot. I’m only trying to clarify the terminology. Why does Tosafot use terminology saying that he rules stringently here? The answer is that in the laws of blessings he really was stringent. He says that in a situation of ten you are obligated to recite the blessing. And the Tur and the Rosh are lenient—they say that in a situation of ten you are not obligated to recite the blessing. Except that now, regarding “You shall not take,” if you are not obligated then it is also forbidden. And therefore they call it a stringency. But really they are following the rule that in cases of doubt regarding blessings, we rule leniently. Understand? So the terminology here—again, I’m only explaining terminology. This is not the question of how to explain the dispute itself, why here they are stringent and there they are not—that’s a discussion in the laws of blessings. I only want to explain the terminology, in order to explain why they used the language of leniency and stringency here. And you see that you can describe the same thing either as a stringency or as a leniency. It depends whether you’re looking on the level of the laws of blessings or on the level of “You shall not take.”
[Speaker H] To continue based on what you explained: according to Tosafot, since we don’t have the option not to recite the blessing with ten, that’s why he formulated it as a stringency.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, exactly. In the laws of blessings, according to Tosafot—whereas according to the Rosh and the Tur you have two options: to recite the blessing with ten, or not to recite it with ten and only with twelve. But because that’s the case, then in the laws of “You shall not take” you cannot recite the blessing with ten. So I have to be stringent in the laws of “You shall not take,” while in the laws of blessings they are lenient. Tosafot is stringent in the laws of blessings, and therefore he says that in the laws of blessings you are obligated to recite the blessing with ten. You don’t have two options. You must recite the blessing with ten. Rabbi—yes.
[Speaker J] There’s something that doesn’t sit right for me in the whole structure of this argument, because basically the Rabbi is saying Tosafot is lenient because he rules—as if when we say “doubt, lenient,” that means it opens up more options. But in the end, there really aren’t more options, because the only option is that there’s the prohibition of “You shall not take.” Right. Right. So there aren’t actually more options.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but from the standpoint of the laws of blessings, there are more options.
[Speaker J] The option to recite or not recite the blessing? But there really isn’t an option.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is, there is. In the laws of blessings there is. You can recite it and you can not recite it. Except that in a place where, from the standpoint of the laws of blessings, you also can—remember, I’ll go back to what I said at the beginning of the class. I said that when we construct a responsum, first of all we have to gather all the relevant clauses, and then decide in each one what it says. That’s exactly what I’m doing here. What are the relevant clauses in the discussion of doubtful blessings? There is one clause in the laws of blessings: for what are you obligated to recite a blessing, for what are you forbidden to recite a blessing, and for what are you permitted to recite a blessing—well, not forbidden; what are you obligated to do and what are you permitted to do. And there’s another clause, which is the laws of “You shall not take.” And now we need to discuss what happens under the laws of blessings and what happens under the laws of “You shall not take,” and then arrive at the bottom line, the final ruling. Therefore it can happen that you are lenient in the laws of blessings, but the final ruling will look like a stringent ruling. Because once you are able not to recite the blessing, then “You shall not take” tells you: don’t recite it. All right? And the claim is that leniency and stringency do not characterize the bottom line. Leniency and stringency characterize each of the clauses that I construct when I begin the responsum. In each of the clauses I have to decide whether it goes leniently or stringently—how many options are possible from the standpoint of that clause. After that comes the bottom line and says: okay, now let’s take all the clauses into account and see what comes out as the bottom line. And that’s exactly what we did here. In this case, there are two clauses.
[Speaker C] So when people say, “In cases of Torah-level doubt, we rule stringently,” or “in cases of rabbinic-level doubt, we rule leniently”…
[Speaker I] So am I relating to the final outcome after I take everything relevant into account? I didn’t understand the question. Regarding rules like, for example, “in cases of Torah-level doubt, we rule leniently”—I mean, “in cases of Torah-level doubt, we rule stringently.” So am I relating to the final outcome after I take—The Rabbi is showing us that it could be that from the standpoint of a certain prohibition it’s lenient.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Absolutely not. “Torah-level doubt” and “rabbinic-level doubt” are rules that apply to each clause separately. In each clause, if you are in doubt, you go by the laws of doubt. So in rabbinic law, the obligation to recite a blessing is rabbinic. Since there is the possibility of reciting the blessing and the possibility of not reciting it, then in rabbinic-level doubt we rule leniently. “Leniently” means you may recite the blessing and you may refrain from reciting it—that is called leniency. “You shall not take” is a Torah prohibition. So once there is doubt whether you are violating the prohibition of “You shall not take,” you may not enter that doubt. In Torah-level doubt we rule stringently. So you see that I apply the rule of doubt separately to each clause. It’s not about the bottom line. Exactly like that—it applies to each clause separately. The bottom line is just the result, what comes out in the end. If even in the bottom line I still have several options left, then I need to check what those options mean. Is it a Torah prohibition? Is it a rabbinic prohibition? What are those options? But in principle, the ruling in the laws of doubt applies to the clauses, to each clause separately. Now, if you go back to the examples of Beit HaLevi, you’ll see that the examples he brought really are examples of leniency. They are all leniencies. Yes, there are those who are stringent and say that the time for the evening prayer is only until midnight, and I rule leniently that it is permissible to pray until dawn rises. That is a leniency. Because someone who says that after midnight it is forbidden to pray is being stringent, and I say it is permitted to pray. Except—why does that sound funny? Because if he says it is permitted to pray, then we are expected to pray. So we didn’t miss the time. But with respect to the question of whether we missed the time or not, he really is lenient in saying that one may pray after midnight. It’s like Yom Kippur. It seems to us like a stringency because after he is lenient that it is possible to fast for two days, obviously we are then expected to fast. Since after all it is still permitted to pray, why miss the evening prayer? So that’s why it’s hard for us to accept that this is a leniency, but no—it really is a lenient ruling. Lenient in the laws of prayer. But of course in the bottom line it comes out as a stringency—that you have to pray even after midnight, obligated as much as one is obligated in the evening prayer. Or the tefillin of Rabbenu Tam. He says that one needs to be established as especially pious in order to put them on, and he says no—even if you are not established as especially pious, you may put them on. Again, that is a leniency. It is a leniency because you may put them on even if you are not established as especially pious. You may, not you must. Except that once you may, then of course enhanced observance says: fine, then put them on—for someone who wants to beautify the commandment. But that already belongs to the laws of enhanced observance, not to this issue. As far as the question whether one needs to be established as especially pious is concerned, it really is a leniency. The same on Yom Kippur, as I explained before. There is a leniency that one may fast for two days as well. True, after I ruled leniently that it is possible to fast for two days, then I am also expected to fast—because otherwise I miss the commandment to fast on Yom Kippur. But that is under the laws of preservation of life, not the laws of fasting. In the laws of fasting, there is a stringency here—that one has to fast for two days. In the laws of preservation of life, there is a leniency here—namely, that even for two days you are allowed to put yourself at risk. It’s not—it’s not a significant risk. In short, all of those rulings of Beit HaLevi really are lenient rulings. It’s just that afterward, in most of them, there is an additional dimension that says: fine, if there is such a leniency, then you are asked—or expected—to make use of it as well. And therefore it looks to us like a stringency. But it isn’t; it’s an entirely different discussion. So if I summarize what has come out for us so far, it means—
[Speaker J] Rabbi, sorry, sorry Rabbi—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Before the summary—
[Speaker J] Just if I go back to the example of Rabbenu Tam: once I really take on Rabbenu Tam for myself, there is this notion that after some period of time—I don’t know, a period of time or a number of times that I already put them on—I become obligated in it. Right? It becomes—and if I want to cancel it I need, what do you call it, annulment of vows and things like that, there’s such an idea.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, what is called making such a practice, yes. That is the accepted view, although it’s not clear what the source for that actually is.
[Speaker J] So there too it seems as if it opens up more options for me, but then I become obligated.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You become obligated under the laws of vows; that’s unrelated. I am opening options for you in terms of whether one has to be established as especially pious in order to put them on. Think about the first time—leave aside three times. The first time, put them on just once. The fact that I allow you to put them on even though you are not established as especially pious—that is a leniency. What happens afterward if you do it three times? That’s a different chapter. That’s exactly the point. In other words, leniency and stringency do not relate to the question of what you will do. Leniency and stringency relate to the question of what you can do—what is permitted for you to do. And every time someone says there is an obligation to do something, or that it is forbidden to do something, he is being stringent. Someone who says there is a commandment and someone who says there is a transgression in a certain act—both are being stringent. Why are they being stringent? Because if he says there is a commandment, that means you have to act this way, you may not refrain—he has closed one door. And someone who says there is a prohibition says you may not act this way—he has closed a door. Each of them is being stringent because he is closing a door. And whoever opens the door that the other one closed is being lenient. That does not tell me what I will do in the bottom line. After both doors are open, now I need to decide which one I enter. But leniency and stringency are not about that. Leniency and stringency are about the question of how many doors are open. How will I decide which door to enter? That has nothing at all to do with leniency and stringency.
[Speaker J] Are there cases where it’s a leniency and I forbid something, or not?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? I didn’t understand.
[Speaker J] Are there cases where it’s supposedly lenient but I still forbid something? Or not?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If you forbid it, that means you closed a door that the other person opened.
[Speaker J] So when it’s a prohibition, it’s always a stringency, basically?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. Again, people intuitively understand what is called a stringency and what is called a leniency. Usually when you forbid something, you are being stringent. But I brought you examples showing that they don’t really understand what leniency and stringency are. It’s intuition, but they haven’t conceptualized it. And therefore, they won’t be able to explain the Rosh and Tosafot that I brought there in tractate Berakhot on this issue. Because they don’t really understand the concept. They have not analyzed the concept. They use it intuitively, and yes, we do have an intuition—we understand what this concept means and where it is right to apply it. But as long as we haven’t conceptualized it and defined the concept for ourselves, there will be places where we get stuck. That’s exactly the advantage of defining concepts. You have to define concepts because there are places where intuition fails. And when intuition fails, then you need to work with recursive reason, and you have to analyze and reach a conclusion through logic, not through intuition. And for that you need conceptualization. You need to define the concepts and understand what they mean. Fine—we’ll continue next week, because now I’m going to use this. Up to this point I’ve shown you why it is important to analyze the concept of leniency and stringency. That’s the first aspect I said connects to our series. It’s another example of why it’s important to analyze concepts. Okay? Now in the next class I’ll speak about the second aspect—that is, what this says about how Jewish law is decided. Okay, that’s it for now. If there are comments, questions, or anything else. Fine, so we’ll stop here. Shabbat shalom.
[Speaker D] Shabbat shalom, thank you very much.