A Look at Torah and Torah Study – Lesson 7 – Rabbi Michael Abraham
This transcription 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
- The Torah as abstract insights and the ukimta as clothing
- Why the Talmud teaches through cases: casuistry versus positivism
- Doubt about the existence of rules and rules as crutches
- The language analogy and the relation between the Written Torah and rules
- A note on AI and the possibility of non-rule-based thinking
- The ukimta as a laboratory condition and the principle that remains true without the ukimta
- The example of the bound slave and the principle that “a slave is a courtyard”
- The tractate Beitzah passage: preparation, ukimta, and Rashi versus the Rashba
- Casuistry, ukimta, and implications for reading the flow of the passage
- The context of discovery versus the context of justification, Talmudic scholarship, and motivations
- Conclusion and administrative remarks
Summary
General Overview
The speaker places the issue of ukimtot within a broader conception of the Torah’s “rolling down” from abstract insights into the world of concrete cases, and argues that the puzzlement over ukimtot comes from the mistaken assumption that the Mishnah and the Talmud are trying to teach Jewish law about a concrete case rather than convey a general principle through a case. He explains that the Talmud deliberately chooses a casuistic way of teaching through cases rather than a positivist method of formulating rules first, because “pure” rules do not appear in our world without interfering variables, and so a kind of “laboratory condition” is needed, which gives rise to ukimtot. He adds that the rules extracted from the cases are at most methodological crutches and not absolute halakhic truth, and he warns against the “grave disease” of clinging to a rule as though it were Jewish law itself. He illustrates the model through the cases of a bound and sleeping slave and the Beitzah passage, and expands into a methodological discussion of the difference between the context of discovery and the context of justification, the relation to Talmudic scholarship, and claims about motivation such as “he wanted to be lenient.”
The Torah as abstract insights and the ukimta as clothing
The speaker presents the cases in the Mishnah and the Talmud as the clothing of abstract principles, and says that the goal is the principle rather than the law of the case itself. He describes the ukimta as exposing the lower stage in which a general principle “gets dressed” in specific cases, so the case serves as the medium through which the insight is conveyed. He compares this to the laws of physics, which are formulated as general rules for a Platonic world “without friction” and without interfering variables, and argues that the Talmudic confusion arises because the Talmud does not formulate a “universal” as a general law but conveys it through a story about a specific legal case.
Why the Talmud teaches through cases: casuistry versus positivism
The speaker argues that the top-down move from rules to cases seems logical but does not work, because in our world every rule requires qualifications and common sense that break apart any mechanical application. He describes the Talmudic method as casuistry in the style of case law, where principles are learned through the analysis of cases, and emphasizes that the Talmud is not written like the Shulchan Arukh because it is not trying to present rulings but to teach through analysis. He describes a process in which the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim) produce abstractions and conceptualizations, but this is simply a continuation of what the Talmud itself is aiming at.
Doubt about the existence of rules and rules as crutches
The speaker suggests that the problem is not merely didactic; it may be that there is no complete “set” of rules, or that such a set is either inaccessible or not humanly applicable in a logical sense. He connects this to ideas of completeness and Godel, and to the question of which systems of knowledge can be fully described by rules. He describes rules as tools that help thought and comparison, and warns against becoming enslaved to a rule as though it were “pure truth,” while criticizing a style of yeshiva analysis that sanctifies rule literature. He uses the analogy of epicycles and deferents to describe the creation of accumulating sub-rules that try to save a mistaken framework instead of replacing the paradigm, and suggests treating rules as a ladder one climbs and then “throws in the trash.”
The language analogy and the relation between the Written Torah and rules
The speaker compares grammatical rules to a language that developed naturally, where the rules were formulated after the fact and are therefore full of exceptions, yet still help, especially for someone who is not a native speaker. He similarly argues that the Written Torah is not a system of rules from which one deduces details, and stresses that Jewish law does not operate according to the scheme “every X is Y” and then apply it to A, but rather through abstract insights and applications to cases. He notes that the Talmud presents this as “rules” through cases, but these are not rules in the logical sense.
A note on AI and the possibility of non-rule-based thinking
The speaker suggests that if there are forms of thought that are not built out of hidden rules, then AI may not be able to imitate them even if it is strong at explicit calculation. He presents this as a philosophical note about the possible limits of imitating human thought when no deduction from rules lies behind it.
The ukimta as a laboratory condition and the principle that remains true without the ukimta
The speaker states that the ukimta solves a side problem in the example and does not create the source’s real novelty, and therefore “the source’s real novelty will never sit in the ukimta.” He argues that the general principle remains true even without the ukimta, and that the ukimta merely clears away variables so the example can successfully “show” the principle. He compares this to a physics experiment that requires isolating variables through laboratory conditions, and explains that just as physics removes the world from the world in order to understand the world, so the ukimta strips away details in order to distill the law.
The example of the bound slave and the principle that “a slave is a courtyard”
The speaker interprets the case of a bill of divorce placed in a woman’s slave’s hand as intended to teach the general principle that the slave is his mistress’s courtyard. He explains that the difficulty posed by a “moving courtyard” leads to the ukimta of a bound and sleeping slave, so as to turn the case into a kind of laboratory in which property law can operate. He argues that anyone who thinks the novelty is the law of a bound and sleeping slave misses the Talmud’s point, because the principle “a slave is a courtyard” is true for every slave even without his being bound and sleeping; the binding is needed only so that the property-law example will work.
The Beitzah passage: preparation, ukimta, and Rashi versus the Rashba
The speaker presents the Mishnah in Beitzah, “An egg laid on a Jewish holiday may not be eaten,” and Rabbah’s ukimta that this refers to a Jewish holiday that falls after the Sabbath, because the egg “was completed yesterday,” and its having been prepared on the Sabbath creates a problem of preparation. He argues that the Mishnah is coming to teach a general law about a Jewish holiday, namely that on a Jewish holiday one should eat food prepared before the day began, and that the case of the egg requires the setup of “a Jewish holiday after the Sabbath” only in order to produce an example of food that was not prepared. He formulates an inquiry between two understandings of the prohibition: damage to the honor of the Sabbath versus damage to the Jewish holiday through eating unprepared food, and concludes that according to his understanding of the ukimta, the second option fits the fact that the Mishnah speaks about a Jewish holiday and not about the Sabbath.
The speaker cites Rashi, who formulates “and a Jewish holiday does not prepare for the Sabbath” and “a Jewish holiday too is called Sabbath, and its meal requires prior preparation,” and presents this as a novelty in the laws of a Jewish holiday, while explaining why an ordinary weekday meal does not require preparation and therefore an egg on Sunday is permitted. He presents the Rashba, who disagrees and formulates the issue as the prohibition on preparing from Sabbath to Jewish holiday or from Jewish holiday to Sabbath, though “they prepare for themselves,” and he emphasizes the practical difference in a case where a Jewish holiday prepares for itself.
The speaker analyzes Abaye’s question, “If so, then an ordinary Jewish holiday should be permitted?” and explains that it makes sense if one understands Rabbah as dealing with a prohibition centered on the Sabbath, because then the Mishnah appears to be missing the condition “after the Sabbath.” He describes the answer, “a decree because of a Jewish holiday after the Sabbath,” as a shift that reads the Mishnah as speaking about an ordinary Jewish holiday, where the prohibition is rabbinic as a decree, while “a Jewish holiday after the Sabbath” is the background reason for the law. He argues that according to the Rashba, Rabbah’s words are therefore not an ukimta but an explanation, and he cites the Rashba’s question about the wording “we are dealing with” as reflecting that, whereas according to Rashi the reading of the Mishnah as an ukimta remains intact and the decree is added from outside as explaining an additional practice/prohibition.
Casuistry, ukimta, and implications for reading the flow of the passage
The speaker states that understanding the mechanism of ukimta is not a “forced answer” but a key to learning the passage correctly, because it determines where the real novelty lies and what relation holds between the rule, the example, and the laboratory-style cleaning of variables. He argues that anyone who loads the novelty onto the ukimta, or interprets it as a psychological evasion by an Amora who “wanted to be lenient,” misses the internal logic of the move and the structure of the argument.
The context of discovery versus the context of justification, Talmudic scholarship, and motivations
The speaker distinguishes between scholarly explanations that tie halakhic positions to historical context and a study-hall discussion that examines the internal justification of the position. He presents an example from a dispute between Tosafot and Maimonides in the laws of sanctifying God’s name, and explains that the claim that everything is determined by circumstances empties the dispute of content and leads to the conclusion that there are no real disputes, only contextual adaptations. He argues that one can accept that circumstances influenced the formation of positions and still see those positions as theories with internal logic that can be discussed and decided, and he calls this “the context of discovery and the context of justification,” like the example of Einstein and the distinction between the source of an idea and the testing of its truth.
The speaker brings an example from Maimonides in the laws of bailees involving the claim of a scribal error versus the Maggid Mishneh’s reconciliation, and explains that even if the view was born from a mistake, one must still discuss the theory that emerged on its own terms. He rejects discussion of motivations such as “he wanted to be lenient” as belonging to the scholarly plane and not the halakhic one, and emphasizes that a halakhic decisor must ground a position in sources and logic rather than in a desire to be lenient, while acknowledging that where there are two valid possibilities one may take distress into account and proceed according to the power of leniency without turning the wish for permission into the fundamental reason.
Conclusion and administrative remarks
The speaker concludes by saying he will stop here and hints that he will move on later to the issue of “charred leaven.” He mentions a Hanukkah break and that they usually finish at four o’clock for candle lighting, and he speaks about recordings that are uploaded “to Moodle or to WhatsApp,” about the lack of source sheets, and about a request to join a WhatsApp group that is limited to students.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Last time, actually, maybe I’ll put things into context. We talked about the Torah’s rolling down from some collection of abstract principles, let’s call it that, or abstract insights, into our world. A rolling down made up of several stages. I tried to illustrate that through the issue of ukimtot. And basically the claim was that all the puzzlement that comes up for us when we see the phenomenon of ukimta stems from the fact that we’re not aware that the case appearing in the Talmud or the Mishnah is not really coming to teach us Jewish law about a particular case. It’s coming to demonstrate, through that case, abstract principles. And so the issue of ukimtot served me here as an illustration of the principle I discussed earlier, an illustration that the garment these abstract principles wear in the form of cases—where in this case the law is such-and-such, and in that case the law is such-and-such—is only a garment. So in the case of ukimtot we see the lower part of this process of rolling down that I spoke about, or getting dressed, and that is the rolling down of the general principles that are already connected to our world, but are still general principles, into specific cases. Here the case is really only serving to represent a principle, and the Talmud’s purpose is to bring me the principle, not the case. The case is only the medium through which the principle is conveyed to me. And that’s why I brought an example from scientific laws, for instance, where basically you are indeed given general principles, but those general principles are not dealing with our world. They deal with some pure abstract Platonic world, a world without friction, a world without temperature, a world without other bodies, and so on. And there nobody is bothered by this at all. Why? Because there the things are presented as a general law. When we read a physics book, the book gives us a general law: every body on which no force acts moves at a constant velocity in a straight line; every two bodies that have mass exert a force on one another of such-and-such magnitude. Okay, so that “every”—the word “every” always signals to us that we’re really talking here about some general principle, not a case. And when you ask yourself where are the cases in which we’ll see this general principle—not in our world. Meaning, it’s in some abstract world. In our world there will be various aspects, each aspect being something like that. There’s one aspect that is gravitation, an aspect—
[Speaker B] —of all the variables there are.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. And therefore in the world of, say, physics books or laws of nature, we are not troubled by the question of ukimta, because it is completely clear to us that when we deal with general laws, it’s not dealing with our world. In our world, the general laws never appear in their pure form; it’s obvious that if you’re dealing with general laws, you’re talking about some kind of Platonic worlds. What’s confusing in the Talmudic context is that it’s basically the same as the scientific context. There too we deal with general laws that apply only to Platonic worlds and not to our world—but the Talmud brings it through a private case. It doesn’t formulate it as a general law. It doesn’t say that a slave is the property of his mistress. It doesn’t express it that way, even though that is what it wants to say. What it says is that if someone puts a bill of divorce in the hand of a sleeping slave, the woman—the owner of the slave—is divorced. They’ve told you some law about a certain case, but that law is meant to express a general principle. The general principle is that the slave is the courtyard of his mistress. That’s really what they wanted to tell you. And therefore, in the Talmudic context, we are troubled by the question of ukimta, because it isn’t out on the table that the Talmud really wants to tell us a general law and not a specific case. But that is the truth. Meaning, it gives me a specific case, but the truth is that it wants to teach me a general principle. In physics books it’s simply out on the table, and that’s why we aren’t troubled by it, because there they say on the table that this is the general law—that’s what they want to teach there. Okay? And then of course that solves the whole problem of ukimta. Now I’ll demonstrate this today, but in general terms. Now what does that really mean? It basically means that the Talmud does something that, on the face of it, seems illogical. Why? If you want to teach me a general law, then like any physics book—if you want to teach me a general law, then like any physics book, just write the general law. If you want to teach me that the slave is his mistress’s courtyard, then write that. Why are you writing to me, “He put a bill of divorce in the hand of her sleeping slave,” and then he has to be bound and lame and I don’t know what, and you need all kinds of ukimtot and things like that? Forget all that—tell me the law you want to teach me. If you want to teach me that law, then say it. Why do you tell it to me through some specific case, and then I get tangled up with the case and it doesn’t work and I make ukimtot and all sorts of things like that? There’s something illogical here, and in fact it really does arouse all the difficulties we’re talking about. And the answer I gave to that—and I devoted the previous lecture to this—was that… that’s why last lecture was a timeout; that’s why I’m trying to put us back into context. Last lecture I basically tried to explain why the Talmud adopts this seemingly illogical method. Meaning, why if it wants to teach me the general law it uses specific cases. And there I spoke about casuistry versus positivism in legal or meta-legal conceptions, and the claim was that the move that seems so logical—from rules to specific applications, to cases—is very logical on the surface, but it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work because the general laws, as I said earlier, in our world never work. They never work. In our world these are always complex applications; every rule always has exceptions, and there is some common sense telling us that the general laws do not operate correctly, are not applicable in this particular case, and in that case they’re partially applicable, and here they have to be qualified, and so on. So basically the Talmud’s claim, or assumption, the subtext of the Talmud, is basically: forget positivism; that method is not right, not an effective way to teach the rules. A more effective method is to teach the rules through cases—what I called casuistry, yes, through cases, through case law, British law—which basically says that if you give me the case and show me how you analyze it—and the Talmud doesn’t just tell me the law, it also analyzes, right? That’s not by accident. Because it wants to show me how to relate to cases. It doesn’t want to say, “In such a case, the law is thus.” The Talmud is not the Shulchan Arukh. The Talmud is not written like the Shulchan Arukh. The Shulchan Arukh contains legal rulings: in such a case the law is thus, in such a case the law is thus. Why isn’t the Talmud written that way? Because the Talmud is not coming to give me the Shulchan Arukh. It’s not coming to teach me the Shulchan Arukh at all. The Talmud is coming to teach me the principles expressed in the cases given in the Talmud. How do I get from the cases to the principles? So the Talmud teaches me how to analyze cases, how to relate to them. Gradually rules also emerge. Among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim), even more rules emerge; we create abstractions, conceptualizations, and all these things are really what the Talmud was trying to teach me. So if it was trying to teach me that, why didn’t it just say it? Because when you say the conceptualization and don’t say the case in which it is expressed, in which it is applied, you won’t convey the conceptualization well. Meaning, it just doesn’t work well. We know that even on the didactic level at least, when you want to teach a principle, it is usually worthwhile to begin with examples. Give one example, show people; give another example, show people, and then tell them: okay, you see? There’s something shared here, some principle, and now teach the principle. Even though mathematicians, say, or more systematic thinking would say the opposite: teach the principle and then show that in this case it applies, and in this case it applies, and in this case it applies. Meaning, top-down sounds more logical, but it doesn’t work. We need to go bottom-up, yes, from the examples to the principles whose applications the examples merely present. Okay? That’s why even in mathematics, if you want to teach effectively, it’s not worthwhile to start from top down. Start from bottom up. Bring examples, show people the logic, and then formulate the things generally. If you begin from above, it’s very precise and logical, but it isn’t understood. People don’t understand what the rule really means. That’s why, by the way, every lecture has to be followed by exercises. The exercises basically tell you what was in the lecture. Meaning, in principle everything is there in the lecture, so no exercises should be needed; after all, if you know the rule you can apply it to cases, right? What’s the problem? No—it doesn’t work that way. We know, everyone who studies these fields understands, that without the exercises you don’t understand the lecture. Meaning, you need to understand how these principles are applied. Except that here I wanted to make an even stronger claim: it’s not only a didactic issue. It may be not only that it’s harder to convey the rules as such without demonstrating them through cases; it is not certain that there are rules. Meaning, the assumption is as though there are rules, but they are either very complicated or their application is complicated and may vary from circumstance to circumstance—but there is some abstract set of rules. It may be that even that isn’t true. I don’t know, but it’s a possibility. Meaning, it may be that there simply isn’t a set of rules. Could it be that it isn’t human? No, it has nothing to do with not being human. It could be entirely human, but not with rules. Not everything can be described by means of… or can everything be described by a set of rules? That itself is even a matter of mathematical theorems. Meaning, there are things you cannot describe by means of a set of rules, yes? The theorems of completeness and Godel and all those things basically deal with that. The question is which systems of knowledge I can describe by means of a set of rules, describe fully, meaning that it includes the entire store of knowledge contained in that field. These are really theorems in mathematical logic. But what we learned for our purposes is that not every body of knowledge can be described by means of a set of rules. And so I’m not at all sure the problem is only didactic. Meaning, until now I described a didactic problem. I said, fine, it may be hard to convey the rules; so I give an exercise, I prefer to put the exercise before the lecture. Meaning, first let’s see cases, discuss them, and from that we’ll understand the rules. I’m claiming more than that: even after we understand the rules from the cases—be careful with them. Don’t use those rules rashly, because those rules are not necessarily correct. It is not certain that there are rules at all. Not only is it not certain that these are the right rules, it is not even certain that there are rules at all. So rules—we can’t think without rules; whenever we conceptualize, whenever we compare, we always look for what is shared by the two sides of the comparison; we are in fact making some rule implicitly. But that rule is a methodological means. It helps us think, to see similarities between cases. One must be careful not to become enslaved to it, not to think that we have arrived at pure and absolute truth and that this rule is really the Jewish law. And there is a grave disease in halakhic and yeshiva-style thinking that sees rules as some kind of halakhic truth, the precise halakhic description, and therefore thinks one must always cling to rules—and I think that is a grave disease. Rules are things we create in order to help ourselves think, but one must in no way cling to rules. And anyone who sees— I spoke about epicycles and deferents—anyone who sees how the world of rules works understands this, because you understand that we cling to rules but it doesn’t work in various cases. So we create more sub-rules to explain why those cases are exceptions and why there a different sub-rule applies, and then that too doesn’t work, and we create another sub-rule, adding epicycles and deferents in the terminology of Ptolemaic cosmology. The assumption is that everything has to be circles, so they add another circle and a little circle and another circle because obviously everything must be circles—but no, it doesn’t have to be circles; it’s an ellipse, as we know today. So as an analogy this is a common analogy for not clinging to a certain mode of thought or to certain rules. Here too, all this literature of rules is literature that should be treated as a kind of crutch. Maybe rule-literature isn’t entirely unnecessary, but at most it helps us think. But after we have absorbed the mode of thought, throw the whole rulebook in the trash. Meaning, they are worth nothing. At most they are a supporting tool, a ladder to climb on, and afterward throw away the ladder. Meaning, it’s not like—I gave the example of language. No, Torah is not the rules. True, but it isn’t rules. The rules are an approximation to that abstract thing, but no, it’s not the abstract thing itself—that’s exactly my claim. I’m not taking back what I said, that the Torah is something abstract and not the cases; I’m only claiming that the abstract thing is not a collection of rules but something else, some kind of—I spoke about this in the analogy of language, Kopel’s analogy that I brought, I think I brought it last time. Think about language. There are grammatical rules. Are grammatical rules real rules, meaning are they what define the language? Obviously not. Obviously the language developed naturally; the rules came afterward, trying to describe the ways we speak. And therefore every such rule has all kinds of exceptions, because it isn’t really the true rule. But on the other hand it helps us a lot. We can’t do without rules—or at least someone who is not a native speaker has to use rules in order to learn to speak.
[Speaker C] And then that got clothed onto the Torah in the form of the Five Books of the Torah, and the Talmud came and gave rules as though they were a kind of cases. But they’re rules for the Talmud, they’re considered rules in the Talmud—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But they’re not rules. They don’t function as rules in the logical sense. We rely on the Written Torah, but the Written Torah is not rules. It’s not that the Torah has rules and the Oral Torah derives particulars from them; it’s not deduction. Rules and particulars—understand, maybe I’ll give the example—rules and particulars means, say, that I have some schema: every X is Y; A is X; conclusion: A is Y. That’s a rule. Now I say let’s take an example, a case to which I apply it: all human beings are mortal, Socrates is a human being, conclusion: Socrates is mortal. That’s called applying a rule to cases, in effect specifying the rule into particulars, into cases. I’m claiming that in Jewish law it doesn’t work that way. Maybe there are some rules, but they’re not accessible to us, and maybe there are no rules at all. All that exists is a collection of abstract insights of one kind or another, understandings of one kind or another, and applications regarding cases. Because I also remarked on this last time, that this is a very interesting question regarding AI, regarding artificial intelligence. Because if there really are certain forms of thought that do not have hidden rules behind them—many times we have modes of thought where we are not aware of the rules, but behind them there really are hidden rules; it’s just complicated and we don’t do it consciously, we do it in some subconscious way. And then the assumption is that AI will be able to imitate them. Meaning, it will be able to do it, and maybe it can even do it explicitly, because in certain abilities it is stronger than we are. It knows how to do explicit calculations on a larger scale, at greater speed than we do. But if there are certain thinking processes of ours that are not built in the form of rules from which I derive conclusions or applications to specific cases, but rather are some other kind of thinking, then it is entirely plausible that AI will not manage to do that at all. No matter how sophisticated it is. If there are such things—I don’t know—but if there are such things, then it may be that AI will never be able to do it. That’s just an interesting, philosophically interesting remark worth thinking about. Okay, in any event, that’s where we are right now. So I’m now closing the parenthesis from the previous lecture and saying: I explained why the Talmud uses such a confusing way to present the rules, and really tells us cases, and relies on us to extract from those cases the rules which are actually the thing it wants to convey to us. That’s why it uses this very confusing and apparently primitive form. I think it’s confusing, but not primitive. Meaning, it’s a far more sophisticated form than the top-down form. So I’m returning to our line of thought. I closed that issue. Now we understand the issue of ukimta. We understand why we get tangled up there, because the Talmud adopts a confusing method. Everything’s fine. Now let’s return for a moment to ukimta. What does that mean? It basically means that when the Talmud brings us a case, its intention is really to convey some general insight to us, a rule, something, some more general and abstract mode of thought. And the case is only an example, through which we in fact understand the general thought. And now—and maybe I’ll add one more sentence that we saw—as a result, the example, since the example is taken from our world, and in our world there is never a simple application of a single halakhic law, there are always other things involved, therefore there will always be ukimtot. Therefore you always say, wait a second, what about the slave? You say that if he put a bill of divorce in the hand of the slave, then the woman is divorced. So I say, wait, but that’s not right—the slave is a moving courtyard, and a moving courtyard does not acquire. So I say yes, we are speaking about a bound slave. Meaning, it is not a moving courtyard; it is a stationary courtyard. All right? Now what was the claim really? The claim really was that the Talmud did not want to teach me the law of the slave, because if it wanted to teach me the law of a bill of divorce in the hand of a slave, it really should have said: if the slave is bound, yes, if one puts the bill of divorce in his hand, and he is sleeping, then the woman is divorced. It didn’t say that. Why not? Because that’s not its issue at all. It only wanted to tell me that a slave is his master’s courtyard, that’s all. A slave is his master’s courtyard—a general principle. Now it said that through a case; that’s the casuistry, I explained why it speaks through cases. But now I’m closing the parenthesis. So it said it through a case, and the case is a bill of divorce in the hand of a woman’s sleeping slave. Fine? Now the Talmud asks: yes, I understand, but the law isn’t correct, because the slave is a moving courtyard and does not acquire. No, fine—it’s a bound slave. Don’t make an issue out of everything; the slave is bound. I’m not talking now about the laws of slaves. Don’t confuse me with silly questions. I’m coming to tell you that the slave is his mistress’s courtyard, that’s all. And that’s true of every slave, not only a bound slave. In property law it is not enough that he be a courtyard; he also has to be a non-moving courtyard. But the statement that the slave is his mistress’s courtyard is true in all situations even without the ukimta. There’s no need to say here that the slave is bound and sleeping. Every slave is his mistress’s courtyard. As for property law, since you used a case of acquisition to demonstrate the general principle, then yes, in property law it is not enough that he be a courtyard; he must also be bound. But that’s not the topic. I’m not coming now to tell you the laws of acquisition. I’m coming to tell you the conceptual relation between a slave and his master. Okay? That’s really what I came to tell you. Therefore there is no difficulty in the fact that we are talking about—what then? I say it through a case. I say it through a case in which he acquires the bill of divorce in his hand. In that case it won’t work; he also has to be bound and sleeping. Fine, so I make an ukimta that he is bound and sleeping. But the lesson is a general lesson that is true even of a slave who is not bound and sleeping, and this is very important—I’ll try to demonstrate it now. It is very important, and I need to understand that if I am right in this explanation of the mechanism of ukimta, then the general principle is always true even in the general case, without ukimta. You don’t need ukimta for the general principle to be true. Therefore the first source we are talking about does not make ukimtot, because it is speaking about the general principle and it is always true. Except that this source always tells it to me through a certain case, the laws of acquisition in the case of a slave. For that particular case to work, you need to create a laboratory condition. Clean it up: zero temperature, no friction, no other bodies, the slave is bound and sleeping. Meaning, leave me alone—he isn’t moving, he isn’t anything, this is a hypothetical slave, he has no legs, he has nothing, that’s what I’m talking about. Okay? But that is only to clear the screen so that the remaining picture will stay clear. And that is what I want to convey, not the ukimtot. The ukimtot are not important here. Therefore the novelty of the source will never lie in the ukimta. Meaning, anyone who sees that Talmud passage and understands that the Talmud wanted to teach me that if a bill of divorce is put into the hand of a bound and sleeping slave, his mistress is divorced—that person did not understand the Talmud. Because if that is what the Talmud wanted to say, why didn’t it say it? It didn’t say that the slave is bound and sleeping. Therefore it is obvious that it didn’t want to say that at all. It wanted to say the general principle that a slave is his master’s courtyard. That’s all, that’s what it wanted to say. And that is true for every slave, even if he is not bound and sleeping. The example through which we illustrated this required, in order to work, that he be bound and sleeping; otherwise the laws of acquisition simply won’t work here. That’s all. So the ukimta always comes to solve a side problem related to the example. Meaning, how does the principle come to expression in the example? In order for it to come to expression in the example, you need to create a laboratory condition, so I make an ukimta. And after I make an ukimta, then I really want to teach the general principle. Yes, the same thing—let’s return to physics. Yes, I want to teach that a body on which no force acts moves at a constant velocity in a straight line. They’ll tell me, wait, but that’s not true, because there’s friction and temperature and other bodies pulling it. I say yes, fine, I’m talking about a body living in the Platonic world: there are no other bodies, the temperature is zero, there is no friction, there is nothing. Fine? So why didn’t you write that if that’s what you’re talking about? Because that isn’t what I came to teach you. I came to teach you the general principle that a body continues moving at a constant velocity in a straight line. True, practically this won’t happen except in a laboratory condition where the body is bound and sleeping, yes? Meaning where the body has no friction and no this and no that. Fine, that’s not interesting, that’s not what I came to teach. Understood? Therefore, in the case of ukimta, this is the simplest thing in the world. Meaning, this isn’t even an answer. There is no strain here, there is no question at all—it’s obvious. Meaning, if there were no ukimtot in the Talmud, I would remain with it needing further analysis. It cannot be that there are no ukimtot in the Talmud, because if I assume my assumption—that the Talmud comes to teach general principles and does so through specific cases—general principles never come to expression in specific cases in a simple way. You always have to create a laboratory condition that neutralizes all the other influences of other laws in order to see the law you want to focus on. Right? Therefore there must be ukimta. If we could do experiments in physics on the street, there would be no physics department. A physics department spends a huge amount of money to create a laboratory condition that is as far as possible from what happens in the world. And all that in order to understand what happens in the world. They build laboratories at enormous expense in order to remove the air from them, to lower the temperature to zero, to empty them of everything else and create some condition that is not our world at all. But only that way can we really see the laws, and then by means of the laws we will understand the—
[Speaker D] Removing a person from the world in order to understand the world.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, exactly like that. That’s what they do, and that’s what an ukimta does. It reminds me of something I once thought: when we buy things in a store—I already said this—whenever something is missing, we pay more. If you want to buy something without sugar, it costs more. You want to buy something without—yes, without, what’s it called, in wheat—without gluten, you pay more. The fewer ingredients there are, the more you pay. Of course that makes sense, because you need processes to remove those ingredients. But I’m just saying, notice: the less we get, the more we pay. So here too, it’s the same thing. Meaning, you want to create a laboratory situation, you have to clean out lots of parameters, remove friction, bodies, and everything else—but then you really do get more. You get the narrowed law itself, but that one you understand well. Meaning, that one you see in a pure and refined way. Okay? In our world, which is so complicated, where so many parameters affect things, you won’t be able to understand it, because there are so many laws here, each one mixed into the other—you won’t be able to understand the world that way. Okay? Good. So now I want to show you how this whole thing works in practice. So I’m going back to the three topics that accompanied us in the matter of ukimtot, and now I’ll show you, with those topics, how this picture I described here gets applied. Yes, this time I basically did it top-down: I drew the picture, and now I’m going to the cases. Okay? So the bound slave we already saw, right? Meaning, we saw that they really come to teach me that the slave is his master’s courtyard; they teach that through property law, because the Talmud’s way is to teach it through a law and a case, not to state the general rule. The law applied to the case requires some adjustments in order to create a laboratory situation in which the law will really apply to this case, so the slave is bound and asleep. And after we created the laboratory situation, cleaned away all the problems, what remains? That the slave really acquires the bill of divorce. How does he acquire the bill of divorce? Apparently because he is his mistress’s courtyard. And every slave is his mistress’s courtyard, even a slave who isn’t bound and asleep. It’s just that in property law, for him to acquire it, he has to be bound and asleep. So I bound him and put him to sleep only in order to see what the nature of a slave is in general. Like when I make abstractions—we talked about abstractions, right?—when I look at a concrete horse, I can’t see within it, in a pure way, the concept of horseness. Because that horse is also brown, and there are other horses that are black. The brown color is not essential to its being a horse. Okay? It has a certain height, but there are other horses with a different height. It has various specific traits. What do I do in order to understand what a horse is? I strip away all the specific traits of the horse and remain only with the traits of the pure horse. Understand? That’s exactly an ukimta. I’m talking about a horse that has no height, no color, and nothing specific—only the traits that characterize a horse as such. Okay? Which is exactly the state of an ukimta; it’s the same idea. Good. So now I want to go into the topic of the egg. Yes, we talked about it there. The Talmud in tractate Beitzah—okay, one second. The Talmud in Beitzah, really—the Mishnah in Beitzah says that an egg laid on a Jewish holiday, then Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagree, but Beit Hillel say: it may not be eaten. And the Talmud discusses why: is a hen designated for eating, is a hen designated for laying eggs? Rabbah’s ukimta there on 2b is that every egg laid today actually took shape the day before; it was completed yesterday. Right? And since that’s so, when I eat the egg today, it was prepared yesterday. Yesterday, inside the hen, the egg actually formed—that is the preparation of the egg—and then the next day it is laid, and then I eat it. Now, if it was laid on a Jewish holiday, that means it formed on the eve of the holiday. So what? Rabbah says—sorry—he makes an ukimta for the Mishnah. The Mishnah is not speaking about a Jewish holiday; it is speaking about a Jewish holiday that comes after the Sabbath. And then what happened? The egg formed on the Sabbath, so it comes out that the preparation for the holiday was done on the Sabbath. So if you now eat the egg that was laid on the holiday, then in effect you did something whereby you ate something that the Sabbath prepared for the holiday, and therefore it is forbidden to eat that egg. So he makes—just a second—he makes an ukimta that when the Mishnah says “an egg laid on a Jewish holiday,” it means an egg laid on a holiday after the Sabbath, not just on a holiday. So why didn’t the Mishnah say that? What, couldn’t it have added “on a holiday after the Sabbath”? Yes, the same question as with ukimtot. Did you want to say something? It could have been
[Speaker F] an ordinary Sunday, really, where there is preparation from the Sabbath.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. The medieval authorities (Rishonim) there ask that; I’ll comment on it in another moment. We’re not learning the whole topic now, but it’ll actually be important for our discussion, so I’ll mention it. So the claim is basically—yes, the difficulty is: then why doesn’t the Mishnah specify that it’s speaking about an egg laid on a holiday that falls on Sunday, for example a holiday after the Sabbath? Why does it say “an egg laid on a holiday” in general and leave us to get tangled up and make ukimtot and all sorts of things like that? Let’s apply here the general principle we talked about. What do I mean? I want to argue that the Mishnah is really coming to teach me a law that is true on every holiday, not only on a holiday after the Sabbath, not only in the ukimta situation, like with the slave, right?—but on every holiday. And what exactly does it want to tell me? That on a holiday one must eat food that was prepared ahead of time. It is forbidden to eat food that was prepared on the Sabbath. Okay? That’s the general law. It has nothing to do with an egg and nothing to do with a holiday after the Sabbath. Rather, the Talmud states it through a case. What’s the case? An egg laid on a holiday is not prepared and therefore it is forbidden to eat it. That’s not true: an egg laid on a regular holiday is prepared, because it was prepared the previous day, and the previous day was the eve of the holiday—everything is fine. No, so it’s a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s the ukimta. But notice: the Mishnah is not coming to teach me Rabbah’s law of preparation in the sense that the egg forms the day before and therefore it is not prepared on the holiday and this is only talking about a holiday after the Sabbath. That does not interest the Mishnah at all; it’s not talking about that. The Mishnah is talking about every holiday. It tells me the general law: on a holiday one must eat prepared food, food prepared while it was still day. That’s what’s required. Now it says that through a case, for example an egg—if it was prepared on the Sabbath before that, then it isn’t considered prepared, so it is forbidden to eat it on the holiday. But that’s just a case. As for a specific egg, if it was prepared the day before, then you have to set the case on a holiday after the Sabbath. If it were something that had been prepared a week earlier, then you wouldn’t need any ukimta at all, because it would be fine regardless. That’s not the point. The case through which they came to teach me the principle is a case that requires an ukimta, because this egg, if it is simply laid on a holiday, then it really is prepared. I want to find a case of food that is not prepared and therefore will be forbidden to eat. How do I find such a case? With regard to the egg, that will apparently only be a holiday after the Sabbath, because only then is an egg laid on a holiday not considered prepared. But that’s incidental; it’s because we’re talking about an egg, and that’s not what matters. The general principle—that one must eat prepared food—is true for every holiday, not only for a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s the principle. Now look, I’ll show you what implications this understanding has and how it clarifies the whole topic. It’s not just an answer. Anyone who understands this understands the topic; anyone who doesn’t understand this doesn’t understand the topic. Because really it is permitted to prepare
[Speaker G] food on a holiday.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not getting into the laws of preparation now; that would require me to get into the laws of preparation. Here we have Rabbah’s preparation: if the egg formed on the Sabbath, then it is called unprepared. For our purposes that will be enough. We’re not going to learn the laws of preparation now.
[Speaker F] Again, I’m not getting into the laws of preparation now.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s a topic in its own right, a difficult one. You’re right. For the sake of the discussion here, we’ll assume that this counts as problematic preparation. Now I want to make the following claim. First of all, it’s obvious that there’s no point asking now why the Mishnah didn’t specify that this is a holiday after the Sabbath. Because it isn’t talking about a holiday after the Sabbath; it’s talking about every holiday. Basically it tells me: on every holiday, you must eat only food that was prepared. That’s all. But it doesn’t state the rule that on a holiday one must eat prepared food directly; it brings it through an example. It says: an egg, for example, if it isn’t prepared, don’t eat it on a holiday. You ask: how does it come about that an egg is unprepared? When the holiday falls after the Sabbath, for example. Doesn’t matter. You understand? So this is not a law stated about a holiday after the Sabbath; this is a law stated about every holiday. And therefore there’s no question why they didn’t frame it specifically as a holiday after the Sabbath. Now look. Rashi there on the spot. It’ll take a few minutes until it updates. It was sent earlier, so usually it happens immediately if it was sent earlier. Look at Rashi: “And a holiday does not prepare for the Sabbath.” That is, “And a holiday too is called Sabbath, and its meal requires preparation. Neither does the Sabbath prepare for the holiday, nor does the holiday prepare for the Sabbath.”
[Speaker B] Meaning, a holiday is called Sabbath.
[Speaker C] That’s really what the Mishnah wanted to teach.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rashi now says what the novelty of the Mishnah is: that a holiday is called Sabbath, and its meal requires preparation. Meaning, you have to prepare what you eat on a holiday; you can’t just eat anything on a holiday without having prepared it in advance. “And its preparation must be on a weekday.” Meaning, when you designate the meal, prepare the meal, the preparation has to be done on a weekday. Otherwise it isn’t considered that the meal was prepared. But a weekday meal, says Rashi, is not significant, and the concept of prior designation doesn’t apply to it. Therefore, on an ordinary Sunday, we have no reason to forbid an egg laid then on the grounds that it was prepared by Heaven, because for a weekday meal the Merciful One did not require prior designation from before the day, since the concept of set-aside does not apply to it. Why is it permitted to eat an egg laid on Sunday, when it is not a holiday? After all, it is… and maybe it could be that you would prepare specifically for Sunday because that’s a time when guests come, and does that mean that it’s not…? Yes, no. A weekday meal in general is not called that. An interesting question is whether there would be room to forbid it also in a situation where you’re making an actual commandment meal or something like that, I don’t know, but that’s a different question. So what is actually written in Rashi? Look. There are two possible ways to understand the prohibition of an egg laid on a holiday after the Sabbath. Let’s talk for the moment about a case where it was laid after the Sabbath, yes? A holiday that falls on Sunday. Passover that falls on Sunday—yes, not “Passover cannot fall on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday,” but Sunday can happen. Rosh Hashanah, for example, cannot be on Sunday. Two possibilities for understanding this. One possibility—and this is apparently the one Rashi chooses—the problem is not the desecration of the Sabbath. The problem is that on the holiday you are not eating food that was prepared while it was still day. Suppose I ate that egg on the holiday, on the day after the Sabbath. What does that mean—that I violated the Sabbath? Meaning, is the prohibition that I desecrated the Sabbath, or is the prohibition that I ate on the holiday food that was not prepared? Do you understand the difference? One could say: if I eat on a holiday—a holiday that falls on Sunday—an egg, then I harmed the Sabbath. What is this, the Sabbath serves the holiday? That is an injury to the honor of the Sabbath. Okay, that’s one possibility. Second possibility: no, there is no injury to the honor of the Sabbath. But preparation done on the Sabbath does not count as preparation, because the Sabbath does not prepare for any other day. So if something happened on the Sabbath, that doesn’t mean the food was prepared. If it was not prepared and I ate it on the holiday, then I ate unprepared food on the holiday. So the prohibition I transgressed is an injury to the holiday, not an injury to the Sabbath. I ate on the holiday food that had not been prepared in advance. Okay? Two possibilities. Now before we move forward, which of these do you think is the correct possibility? Rashi is really… not according to Rashi—from logic. Injury to the Sabbath on the holiday, so you can’t injure the Sabbath. So that’s the injury. You’re saying that the prohibition is the injury to the Sabbath. Why do you think that’s the more correct definition? Because you prepare something on the Sabbath and eat it on Sunday. Okay, that’s always true according to both possibilities. The whole question is: what happened when you eat it on Sunday? Is that an injury to the Sabbath, or is it a violation of the holiday because you ate food that wasn’t prepared while it was still day? Injury to the Sabbath. Injury to the Sabbath. I’m asking: which of the two? I offered two possibilities—desecration of the Sabbath. Does anyone suggest injury to the holiday? Injury to the holiday, because the whole definition here is about the holiday, and if it were on the Sabbath… Good. I claim that if I’m right in my understanding of the nature of ukimtot, then you are not right. No—I’m trying to clarify why it’s important to understand the mechanism of ukimtot. It tells you, it clarifies for you how to learn the topic. You will make a mistake in understanding the topic if you don’t understand the meaning of an ukimta. That’s what I’m trying to show here. Now look why. Because if you tell me that the problem is that it harmed the Sabbath, then the main point is missing from the text.
[Speaker H] Why didn’t the Mishnah talk about a holiday after the Sabbath? After all, the whole novelty the Mishnah wanted to say is that it’s forbidden to harm
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the Sabbaths and use them to make preparations for other days, right? That’s what the Mishnah really wanted to teach according to the interpretation you’re suggesting. So the main point is missing from the text—the Sabbath doesn’t appear in the Mishnah at all. It says: “An egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten.” Who said anything about a holiday after the Sabbath? You can’t understand the ukimta according to that view. Because according to that view, the ukimta contains the novelty of the Mishnah. But that’s not logical. If the Mishnah wanted to teach me the novelty that it is forbidden to harm the Sabbaths, then it should talk about Sabbaths, not about a holiday. By contrast, if I argue that the Mishnah comes to teach me a novelty in the laws of a holiday—that on a holiday one must eat only food prepared while it was still day—then there’s no problem. It spoke about the holiday; it said, eat only food that was prepared while it was still day. You say, wait, but an egg laid on a holiday was prepared while it was still day, so what’s the problem? No, it’s a holiday after the Sabbath. Leave that aside. Then it wasn’t prepared, because that happened on the Sabbath. And what happened on the Sabbath does not count as preparation. So it wasn’t prepared. Do you understand? And if I understand the ukimta the way I suggested earlier, then the second possibility is the correct one, because the second possibility really says: what is written in the Mishnah is indeed the precise law. I have no question why it didn’t say that this is a holiday after the Sabbath. It didn’t say it because it isn’t talking about a holiday after the Sabbath; it’s talking about every holiday. You just have a technical problem—yes, but the egg laid on the holiday is in fact prepared. Fine, so it’s a holiday after the Sabbath. Forget that. I’m talking about an egg that wasn’t prepared. All right? A miracle happened and it wasn’t prepared while it was still day. I don’t know—what difference does it make? The way to make that happen is a holiday after the Sabbath,
[Speaker E] that doesn’t matter.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All right? Whereas if I claim that this is a holiday after the
[Speaker E] Sabbath and we’re talking here about harm to the Sabbath, then what?
[Speaker C] Then the Mishnah—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] then the main point is missing from the text of the Mishnah. So the Mishnah should have said: an egg laid on a holiday that falls after the Sabbath—or even
[Speaker C] on an ordinary Sunday, not according to Rashi—then it is forbidden,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] forbidden to eat it because it harms the Sabbath, it’s a desecration of the Sabbath, an injury to the honor of the Sabbath. And the Mishnah talks about an egg laid on a holiday. Who even mentioned the Sabbath? The Sabbath isn’t mentioned. So how, then, can one say that the Mishnah
[Speaker G] is coming to teach me a novelty in the laws of the Sabbath?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It doesn’t mention the Sabbath at all. But if you say that the Mishnah is coming to teach me
[Speaker G] a novelty in the laws of a holiday, and that’s what it’s talking about—on a holiday—then everything is fine.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why do you have to set it on the Sabbath in order for the egg to be an unprepared egg? That’s all. Basically what the Mishnah says is: one who eats an unprepared egg on a holiday has transgressed a prohibition, because on a holiday one must eat prepared food. You ask yourself: what is an unprepared egg on a holiday? Every egg forms the day before. So: a holiday that falls after the Sabbath—not important; then it formed on the Sabbath, so it is not prepared. That’s not what matters, that’s not the point. Therefore the Mishnah doesn’t need to teach me that we are talking here about the Sabbath. Do you understand that if we understand the mechanism of the ukimta properly in this way, it resolves for us the inquiry into how to understand the Mishnah? Is the Mishnah talking about a novelty in the laws of a holiday or a novelty in the laws of the Sabbath? Clearly it is talking about a novelty in the laws of a holiday. Okay? Now look at the continuation. I claim that that’s what is written here in Rashi. Rashi basically says that this is a novelty in the laws of a holiday: on a holiday it is forbidden to eat food that was not prepared. And therefore, if you’re on Sunday, then what’s the problem? The problem is not the injury to the Sabbath; the problem is that on the holiday you are eating food that wasn’t prepared. But Sunday is a weekday, so what do I care that the food wasn’t prepared? The food wasn’t prepared—so what? Fine. So that’s the novelty in Rashi. By contrast, the Rashba disagrees with him. “And I am astonished,” says the Rashba, “by this wording, that the Sabbath meal requires preparation in advance and on a weekday. If so, then even the Sabbath cannot prepare for itself. But an egg on the Sabbath and on a holiday itself is, by strict law, permitted. And on a holiday after the Sabbath, were it not that it was completed yesterday, it would even be permitted. And in Eruvin we say: the beginning of the day acquires the eruv; the Sabbath prepares for itself. Rather, this is the explanation: the meal of the holiday and the Sabbath is significant enough to require preparation, and therefore whenever there is such preparation, it is not proper that the Sabbath prepare for the holiday nor that the holiday prepare for the Sabbath; but they may prepare for themselves.” All right? According to Rashi, if the egg had formed on the same day it was laid, would it have been permitted to eat it? Why not? Right, because it would have had to be prepared while it was still day. That’s the same thing as an egg laid on a holiday that falls after the Sabbath. The Rashba says no, absolutely not. The whole problem is the injury to the Sabbath, not that on the holiday you are eating unprepared food. Therefore, if the holiday prepared for itself, there would be no problem eating it in principle. All right? Therefore one has to say it was prepared while it was still day, because if it were prepared on that very day, then that wouldn’t matter. According to Rashi, you don’t need to say it was prepared while it was still day. Not true—that’s the reality, and that’s why they said it, but it’s not necessary. Meaning, even if it were prepared from the same day to the same day, it would be forbidden to eat it, because it is something that was not prepared while it was still day. Okay? So the Rashba really disagrees with Rashi precisely on that point. Rashi explains that the novelty of the Mishnah is a novelty in the laws of a holiday: it is forbidden to eat on a holiday food that was not prepared while it was still day. The Rashba claims that the novelty in the Mishnah is a novelty in the laws of the Sabbath: that it is forbidden to prepare on the Sabbath for the sake of a holiday that comes the next day; that is an injury to the Sabbath. Okay? And the practical difference is: what happens if the holiday prepares for itself, if the Sabbath prepares for itself? According to Rashi, it would be forbidden to eat, because it wasn’t prepared, right? According to the Rashba there is no problem at all, because it’s not an injury when a day prepares for itself; it is not serving another day, it is serving itself, so that is not an injury to it. Okay? Therefore it would be permitted to eat it—that is the practical difference. Okay. “Therefore whenever they require preparation, it is not proper that the Sabbath prepare for the holiday or the holiday prepare for the Sabbath, but they prepare for themselves, and a weekday too is not significant and prior designation does not apply to it.” Now he goes back to Rashi’s answer, to Rashi’s explanation almost in the same words, and notice: from the opposite conception. “Therefore an egg laid on the day after the Sabbath or after a holiday is permitted, because preparation does not apply to an ordinary weekday meal.” Very similar to Rashi, right? But it’s completely opposite. The Rashba says, so according to my view, what happens with an egg laid on Sunday and prepared on the Sabbath? That should have been the most forbidden thing of all. Because if the whole problem is injury to the Sabbath, then if the Sabbath preparing for a holiday is an injury to the honor of the Sabbath, then when the Sabbath prepares for a weekday, that’s even more of an injury to the Sabbath, right? It should have been forbidden. He gives the same answer as Rashi: that since the meal of a weekday is not an important meal, then the preparations for it are not considered preparations, and therefore there was no injury to the Sabbath here. The answer is like Rashi, but the starting point is the opposite. Rashi comes to explain why there’s no problem eating on Sunday. The answer is: why should there be a problem eating on Sunday? On Sunday there is no law against eating unprepared food. The Rashba says: why is there no problem eating on Sunday? Because the preparation that was done on the Sabbath did not injure the Sabbath. It did not injure the Sabbath—why? Because it is not preparation for a significant meal; a weekday meal is not a significant meal. Now at first glance, if I’m right, then it comes out that the Rashba needs further examination, right? Because according to the Rashba the ukimta is not clear. You are basically claiming that the Mishnah comes to teach me a law in the laws of the Sabbath, so it should have said that we are talking about a holiday after the Sabbath. No, that’s the practical difference—I’m now going back to the actual disagreement with Rashi. Their basic disagreement now concerns the Mishnah. The Mishnah says: “An egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten.” Fine? According to Rashi, why may it not be eaten? Because we are talking about an unprepared egg, for example on a holiday after the Sabbath. Why is it forbidden to eat? Because it is forbidden to eat on a holiday foods that were not prepared. Okay. According to the Rashba, no. We’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath. Why is it forbidden to eat it on the holiday? Because if you eat it on the holiday, it comes out that you injured the Sabbath, because the Sabbath made a preparation for the sake of the holiday; it became the servant of the holiday, so you injured the honor of the Sabbath. Therefore it is forbidden to eat. That is the dispute between Rashi and the Rashba. I said that according to Rashi, the mechanism of the ukimta is very understandable, because the Mishnah is basically talking about the laws of a holiday. So it says: “An egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten,” because it is forbidden to eat food that is not prepared. The Talmud asks: how is the egg not prepared? After all, it is prepared. Because it’s after the Sabbath—not important. Let’s talk about an unprepared egg. Fine? That’s really the point. According to the Rashba, no. According to the Rashba, the whole essence of the novelty of the Mishnah is about the laws of the Sabbath, not the laws of a holiday. When you eat the egg on a holiday after the Sabbath, you injure the honor of the Sabbath that came before. So why didn’t the Mishnah explicitly speak about a holiday after the Sabbath? After all, it comes to teach me a law in the laws of the Sabbath. The general principle is that it is forbidden to injure Sabbaths. That is what the Mishnah comes to teach according to the Rashba, right? If it is forbidden to injure Sabbaths, then talk to me about the Sabbath. According to Rashi, the Mishnah comes to teach me a law in the laws of a holiday, so it talked about a holiday and taught me a law. So there is no question why it didn’t frame it as a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s just an ukimta. But according to the Rashba, the whole novelty of the Mishnah is talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, where you injure the honor of the Sabbath—and the main point is missing from the text. So the Rashba doesn’t make sense according to this understanding. So maybe what I said about ukimtot works only according to Rashi and not according to the Rashba. But that’s not true. I’ll now show you the continuation of the topic and you’ll see how beautifully it works out. Look at the continuation of the topic. Look: Abaye said to him—the continuation of the Talmud, yes?—Abaye said to him: “If so, then on an ordinary holiday it should be permitted?” This is from an article I wrote back then… “Abaye said to him: If so, then on an ordinary holiday it should be permitted.” What does that mean? You, Rabbah, are telling me that we’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath; since it underwent preparation on the Sabbath, it is forbidden to eat it on the holiday. Abaye says: so what happens on an ordinary holiday that is not after the Sabbath? Then it ought to be permitted, right? Okay—what is difficult here? Right, it is permitted. What is difficult? We’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, right? And what did we say? That on an ordinary holiday it really is permitted. In order to say it’s forbidden, you have to set it on a holiday after the Sabbath. So what is Abaye objecting to? It isn’t written that way; we are making an ukimta. Obviously. So that’s what Rabbah did. He says it says in the Mishnah “holiday”; no, no, that’s an ukimta. It means a holiday after the Sabbath. What does that really imply in subtext? That if it’s an ordinary holiday not after the Sabbath, then it is permitted. So what is Abaye objecting to? Right, that’s what I’m saying. Put an exclamation mark there, not a question mark at the end. Right—“on an ordinary holiday it should be permitted!” What is the difficulty? Because Rabbah wants to be lenient… What do you mean he wants to be lenient? He wants to say the truth—not to be lenient and not to be stringent. He wants to prohibit it only after the Sabbath? What does “want” mean? The question is what is prohibited and what is permitted; it’s not a question of what he wants. I see it as: he wants to be lenient, so he tells you it’s only after the Sabbath. Not because he wants to be lenient—he says it because of an interpretive difficulty. Yes, but in the end… Doesn’t matter; he says it because of an interpretive difficulty. He comes to challenge that. He says: because of an interpretive difficulty, on an ordinary holiday it should have been permitted. So he makes an ukimta: it must be a holiday after the Sabbath. Now Abaye comes and reinvents the wheel, and according to that it comes out that on an ordinary holiday it is permitted. Thank you very much—that was the starting point, and that’s why I set it on a holiday after the Sabbath. Abaye knows that on a holiday it is forbidden. How does he know? Okay, fine. From the question? How does he know? From the Mishnah! Because if Rabbah were right that we’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, then why doesn’t the Mishnah mention that? The Mishnah says: “An egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten.” A holiday—every holiday. So when Abaye reads the Mishnah, he says: your ukimta can’t be right. What kind of ukimta is that? The main point is missing from the text. It should be rather: if the Mishnah says “an egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten,” then apparently that means every holiday.
[Speaker G] Now he says to Rabbah, but
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] according to your explanation, it comes out that this is only on a holiday after the Sabbath. On an ordinary holiday, no. So how do you explain the Mishnah? What about your ukimta? Now according to Rashi there’s no room for this question. I’m now switching between Rashi and the Rashba. Rabbah can be understood only according to Rashi; Abaye, who objects, only according to the Rashba. According to Rashi there’s no room for Abaye’s question, because according to Rashi, understand what Rashi is really saying. Rashi is really saying like this: the Mishnah comes to teach
[Speaker C] me the law
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] that on a holiday one must eat prepared food. Unprepared food may not be eaten on a holiday, right? That’s the law. Now specifically for an egg, what does that mean? If it’s a holiday after the Sabbath, then it’s forbidden, because it was prepared while it was still day from the Sabbath. If it’s an ordinary holiday, then it is permitted, right? And everything is fine. I have no problem with the Mishnah—
[Speaker C] why it didn’t mention the Sabbath, everything is excellent.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But then there’s no room for Abaye’s question—what do you want?
[Speaker C] Obviously on an ordinary holiday it’s permitted; what’s the question?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, that’s what we’re saying. By contrast, according to the Rashba—
[Speaker C] after all, I asked earlier that according to the Rashba, Rabbah’s ukimta in the Mishnah isn’t clear.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because according to the Rashba, what the Mishnah is really coming to say according to Rabbah is that it’s forbidden to injure the Sabbath
[Speaker B] and let it prepare meals for the holiday, right?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So why doesn’t the Mishnah mention the Sabbath? Why does it say, “An egg laid on a holiday may not be eaten”? This is said only about a holiday after the Sabbath. The novelty is in the laws of the Sabbath, not in the laws of a holiday, right?
[Speaker C] That’s what Abaye asks.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Abaye understood
[Speaker C] Rabbah like the Rashba, not like Rashi.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly—that’s why he objects. He says: according to your view, then on an ordinary holiday it should be permitted? Meaning, the Mishnah should have explicitly taught me that we are talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, because on an ordinary holiday—and the Mishnah just says “holiday,” an ordinary holiday—then it should have been permitted. And Abaye’s objection is based on the fact that he learned like the Rashba and not like Rashi. Meaning, it is precisely true that Rabbah can be learned only like Rashi and according to the Rashba one can’t learn Rabbah that way. But that is exactly what explains to us why Abaye objects to Rabbah. Because Abaye really says: wait, what you’re saying can’t be right, because Abaye learned specifically like the Rashba, and therefore he objects. Understand? So what does he answer? “A decree because of a holiday after the Sabbath.” Boom—we’ve learned something new. Rabbah’s preparation is a Torah-level law. On a holiday after the Sabbath it is forbidden to eat the egg on the holiday by Torah law, because the egg was not prepared, okay? What happens on a holiday that is not after the Sabbath? Presumably it is permitted, as Abaye asked, right? Permitted, no problem? No. It is forbidden by rabbinic law—a decree due to a holiday after the Sabbath. Now understand: I’m going back to the Mishnah. You always have to go back to the Mishnah and understand what the Mishnah is saying now according to the current understanding. Now it’s very simple: the Mishnah is not coming to teach me the law that it is forbidden to injure the Sabbath—that’s just Rabbah’s law of preparation. The Mishnah is coming to teach me the rabbinic law that an egg laid on an ordinary holiday, not after the Sabbath, may not be eaten. Why? A decree due to a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s all. So now there’s no question why the Mishnah didn’t teach me that we’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, because we’re not talking about a holiday after the Sabbath. We’re talking about an ordinary holiday, and the novelty is the novelty that there is a rabbinic decree on an ordinary holiday because of a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s all. So now everything is excellent according to the Rashba, huh? Make a full analytical dissection out of it. It’s not Rabbah, it’s the Talmud, but yes. Yes, he brought it—how he understood it. What do you mean, “he understood”? He said it; it’s not “he understood,” it’s what he said. From the fact that the Mishnah said it is a decree only on the two days—from the fact that it did not say we’re talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, but rather about an ordinary holiday—and after all it is impossible that it came to teach me injury to the Sabbath, precisely because of what I asked on the Rashba, because then the main point is missing from the text—why don’t you write that it’s a holiday after the Sabbath, right? So he says: no, no—the Mishnah is really coming to teach me a rabbinic law. Now notice what that means: Rabbah’s words are not an ukimta at all. It’s not an ukimta at all. When he says that we are talking about a holiday after the Sabbath, it’s not at all that we are talking about a holiday after the Sabbath; we are talking about an ordinary holiday. Rabbah is only coming to tell me why on an ordinary holiday it is forbidden to eat: because on a holiday after the Sabbath there is a problem of Rabbah’s preparation, and therefore they decreed on an ordinary holiday because of a holiday after the Sabbath. That is only an explanation; it is not an ukimta. The Mishnah is talking about an ordinary holiday, not about a holiday after the Sabbath, and that has to be the case if we read the Mishnah like the Rashba, we read Rabbah like the Rashba. Because according to the Rashba it cannot be an ukimta, because if it were an ukimta then the main point would be missing from the text. By contrast, according to Rashi there is an ukimta here. According to Rashi, we make an ukimta that this is a holiday after the Sabbath, and the prohibition is to eat unprepared food on a holiday. Then they ask—Abaye asks: yes, but what about an ordinary holiday? And what do you mean, what about an ordinary holiday? His question is not a question about the Mishnah; according to Rashi his question is not a question based on the wording of the Mishnah. The wording of the Mishnah is not difficult according to Rashi.
[Speaker C] There’s no problem at all.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Mishnah didn’t have to teach
[Speaker C] me “a holiday after the Sabbath,” because
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] according to Rashi it’s talking about every holiday, right?
[Speaker C] It’s simple. So the question is not an interpretive question about the Mishnah.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] According to Rashi, Abaye’s question is: but we know that people also don’t eat eggs laid on an ordinary holiday. Just from what we know, simply; our tradition tells us that people also don’t eat an ordinary egg. Why not? According to your view, it’s only after the Sabbath. He says: because it’s a rabbinic decree. But in the Mishnah—if you ask me what Rabbah is doing with the Mishnah—he is making an ukimta. According to Rashi he is making an ukimta. According to the Rashba he is not making an ukimta; he is explaining the Mishnah. The Mishnah is talking about an ordinary holiday. And he explains why on an ordinary holiday it is forbidden: because there is a decree due to a holiday after the Sabbath, where it is forbidden by Torah law because of Rabbah’s preparation. Wait, so is that also a kind of ukimta? What do you mean? He says a decree—is that an ukimta? He says a decree—no, no. The Mishnah is talking about a holiday after the Sabbath according to Rashi, not about an ordinary holiday. The Mishnah is talking about a holiday after the Sabbath according to Rabbah, yes. According to the decree that it’s because of a holiday after the Sabbath, according to the Talmud’s answer, the Mishnah is talking about a holiday after the Sabbath according to Rashi. Only a holiday after the Sabbath, because the Mishnah states the Torah-level law of Rabbah’s preparation. You ask me: but why then don’t we eat it also on an ordinary holiday? Because there is also a decree—it’s not connected to the Mishnah—because there is also a decree due to a holiday after the Sabbath. But the Mishnah is talking about a holiday after the Sabbath. That’s how you read the Talmud according to Rashi. By contrast, according to the Rashba it comes out that in the Mishnah there is no ukimta at all. No ukimta at all. The Mishnah is talking about an ordinary holiday, not a holiday after the Sabbath. Rabbah is not coming to set the Mishnah on a holiday after the Sabbath. Rabbah is coming to explain why, in the Mishnah where it says that on an ordinary holiday the egg may not be eaten, why indeed it may not be eaten. So know that on a holiday after the Sabbath one does not eat because of Rabbah’s preparation. That has nothing to do with the Mishnah; it is a known, agreed-upon law. The Mishnah comes to tell me that there is also
[Speaker C] A decree regarding an ordinary Jewish holiday, where too one does not eat it. But that’s not an ukimta at all. Because according to the Rashba you can’t read the Mishnah as an ukimta, because according to the Rashba the whole idea of Rabbah’s preparation principle is the prohibition against infringing on the Sabbath. The prohibition against infringing on the Sabbath—so it can’t be that that’s what the Mishnah is coming to say here. So it should have set it up as a holiday that comes after the Sabbath. Okay, look, later on, okay, so he talks about every Jewish holiday. Yes, exactly. That’s according to the Rashba. Yes. Meaning, does he accept Abaye’s statement? Yes, but only by force of custom. In other words, the Mishnah, sorry, deals with a holiday after the Sabbath and comes to teach me the law of Rabbah’s preparation principle; that’s the novelty of the Mishnah, that you have to eat food that was prepared. He says yes, so why don’t we eat just any egg that was laid on an ordinary holiday? That’s what Abaye asks: why don’t we eat it? It has nothing to do with the Mishnah—an ordinary holiday, according to your view, should have been permitted. He says, correct, but that’s a rabbinic decree. According to the Rashba, all the Mishnah is coming to tell me is that rabbinic decree. The Mishnah is not talking about a holiday after the Sabbath; it’s talking about an ordinary holiday. Therefore, according to the Rashba, there is no ukimta in the Mishnah. And the Rashba has to say there is no ukimta in the Mishnah, since he too accepts what I said earlier about ukimta. And according to what I said earlier about ukimta, the Rashba cannot accept Rabbah’s statement as an ukimta on the Mishnah. Because if Rabbah were making an ukimta on the Mishnah, that would mean the Mishnah is missing words. Why doesn’t the Mishnah talk about a holiday after the Sabbath? Right? According to Abaye, from his wording it sounds like he understood that it was an ukimta. What, again? From Abaye’s wording it sounds like he understood it as an ukimta, like Rashi. Why? “If so, then…” It’s not that Rabbah said, I know what the reason behind the law of the Mishnah is. No—at first he understood Rabbah’s words as an ukimta, and then he asks him: but what do you mean? Then an ordinary holiday should be permitted. Behold, in the Mishnah it says that on a holiday too the egg may not be eaten. And then he gives an answer: no, it’s not an ukimta, it’s only an explanation. The Mishnah comes to tell me a decree, and Rabbah is only the explanation. It’s not an ukimta. Only in the answer was that conception introduced. But even in Rabbah’s wording—“what case are we dealing with here?” Right, so that’s the question about “what case are we dealing with here?” Now look at the Rashba; that’s exactly where we’re getting to. Look at the Rashba: “Rather, Rabbah said…” exactly on your question, “Rather, Rabbah said: we are dealing with a hen designated for eating, and with a holiday that occurred after the Sabbath,” and so on. Sounds exactly like the language of an ukimta, right? And according to the Rashba that can’t be an ukimta, it’s only an explanation. Look at what the Rashba asks: “This is difficult for me: how can he say, ‘we are dealing with a holiday after the Sabbath,’ for even on an ordinary holiday it is because of a holiday after the Sabbath.” After all, in the end we arrived at the conclusion that the Mishnah deals with an ordinary holiday, not a holiday after the Sabbath. Rabbah’s words are not an ukimta, they are an explanation. So the Rashba says: then what does “Rather, Rabbah said, we are dealing with a holiday after the Sabbath” mean? It’s not true that that is what we are dealing with. We are dealing with an ordinary holiday. The explanation is because of a holiday after the Sabbath. So he really remains with the difficulty. Apparently he would have the text without “we are dealing with,” so it would be “because of a holiday after the Sabbath” or something like that. And that is exactly because the Rashba is consistent with his own view. He cannot accept this as an ukimta. And you see how the whole course of the Talmudic discussion, every stage in the Talmud, whether according to Rashi or according to the Rashba—everything, every single thing, falls into place if we really understand how ukimta works. Because someone who thinks ukimta is just the way to insert into the Talmud that really we are talking about a holiday after the Sabbath won’t understand this whole development here. What is he asking, what is he answering, what is the dispute between Rashi and the Rashba? What—if I go that route I’ll say that Rabbah wants to be lenient? Wants to be lenient, doesn’t want to be lenient—those are Rabbah’s motivations. I’m not interested in motivations; I’m asking what he says. He says there—in the end he says—if there had not been a decree, it would have been permitted to eat the egg on a holiday. Fine, and there is a decree. That’s it. Now the question is: what does the Mishnah say according to Rabbah? Does it state the decree, or does it state the law of Rabbah’s preparation principle, that on a holiday after the Sabbath it is forbidden to eat? So I’m saying: according to the Rashba, the Mishnah comes to teach the decree. Why? Why does he learn it that way? He learns it that way because according to the Rashba’s own position he cannot learn Rabbah as an ukimta. He can’t. He has to read it as saying that in the Mishnah there is no ukimta. Because according to his view it cannot be that we would make an ukimta. And therefore he has to explain that what is written in the Mishnah is the rabbinic law that on an ordinary holiday one does not eat the egg, on account of Rabbah’s preparation principle in the case of a holiday after the Sabbath. He has to learn it that way. But all of this is only if we understand the mechanism of ukimta, the logic of that mechanism. Why wouldn’t he want an ukimta? It’s not that he doesn’t want one; if he understands that the problem in Rabbah’s preparation principle is infringement on the Sabbath, then it can’t be an ukimta. It’s not that he doesn’t want an ukimta; he doesn’t care whether there is an ukimta. But it can’t be an ukimta according to his understanding. Because if we are coming to teach a law in the laws of the Sabbath, then why doesn’t the Mishnah talk about the Sabbath? Why is it talking to me about a holiday? The whole question of ukimta that I dealt with in the last three classes arises here. There is no logic at all in setting this up as a holiday after the Sabbath when you are coming to teach me—sorry—when you are talking about a holiday and coming to teach me a law in the laws of the Sabbath. It’s twisted. But it is an explanation of why it is forbidden to eat the egg. And that’s not an ukimta. Exactly. It’s an explanation and not an ukimta. Right. No problem. But that’s what I said. Therefore it has to be an explanation and not an ukimta. Exactly. Because I understand—if I understand how the logic of ukimta works, then I understand that according to the Rashba’s conception this cannot be an ukimta. That’s it. It’s an explanation. Right. And then everything is fine—Rashi works out, the Rashba works out, and I work out too. And both of them agree with what I’m saying. Their argument is only over the question of how to read the Talmud: is this an ukimta or is it not an ukimta? But as to what an ukimta is, they both agree. And therefore it follows that according to Rashi it really is an ukimta, and according to the Rashba it cannot be an ukimta. And if that is so, then when we read the Talmud we read it differently according to Rashi and differently according to the Rashba. Everything falls into place once we understand it that way. Okay? Now let’s move to the third topic, the charred leaven. Remember the toast on Passover? This is not simple logic; it’s not logic at all. It’s psychology. Psychology is one thing—I’m not dealing with the psychology of the amoraim; I’m dealing with their logic. I’m dealing with the logic of the amoraim, not the psychology of the amoraim. You know, since you asked, I’ll answer you by opening a parenthesis. There are constant disputes between the scholarly view of the Talmud and the traditional view of the Talmud. So one common example of this is, for instance, the laws of sanctifying God’s name. In the laws of sanctifying God’s name there is a very big dispute between Tosafot and the sages of Spain, Maimonides and the Spanish sages generally. Tosafot were great strict ones. They saw in every matter that one should give up one’s life; you are even allowed to give up your life when you are not obligated to. Sport and fun. Yes, exactly. So they’re the Ashkenazim, right? They’re hysterical Ashkenazim. Now the Spanish sages are strict? Maimonides says that one who transgressed and gave up his life in a place where one is not required to give up one’s life—such a person is liable for his own life. Yes, that’s Maimonides’ well-known phrase. In any case, he says it is forbidden to do that; he is lenient in the laws of saving life. Fine? Now scholarship—researchers argue that this is a result of context. That is, the sages of France, the Tosafists, lived during the period of the Crusades. And in the Crusades there was a need to raise the walls and tell people, friends, stand your ground, because otherwise the whole story falls apart. There were severe threats, there were very difficult pressures, and it was very easy to yield to the demands of the Crusaders, of the gentiles, and therefore Tosafot felt obligated to establish a fortified wall that would not yield under any circumstances. Even to death. Even for a shoelace, yes, even if you die. Yes. Exactly. They didn’t formulate it as a time of persecution, but essentially that was their conception of sanctifying God’s name—yes. In contrast, Maimonides, or the Spanish sages, who lived in a relatively more relaxed period—everything is relative—a relatively more relaxed period, said no: if you are obligated to give up your life, then give it up, but if you are not obligated, then it is forbidden. What do you mean? Life has value, and you don’t sacrifice your life for nothing. Okay? Who says this? The researchers, yes. The researchers always hang the Talmudic statement on the context. That is, if you understand the historical context, then you understand why it crystallized—exactly what you said earlier—they want to be lenient or they want to be strict. Okay, so I’m getting to that. Now, understand what comes out of this, essentially. What comes out of this is that there is actually no dispute at all between Tosafot and Maimonides. No dispute at all. Suppose today I want to know whether to give up my life in a situation where I am not obligated—say, not one of the three cardinal sins or something like that. Then I’ll ask myself whether the Jewish law follows Maimonides or Tosafot. Wait, wait, one second, one second, one second, I’ll explain, let me explain. I claim there is no dispute. Why? If I am now in a certain situation and I ask myself whether to act like Tosafot or like Maimonides, I say no problem: you just have to look whether the situation resembles the one in which Tosafot operated, or whether it resembles the one in which Maimonides operated. Because the assumption is actually that there is no dispute at all between Tosafot and Maimonides. If Maimonides had lived in Tosafot’s situation, he too would have said what they said. Wait, wait, one second. And if Tosafot had lived in Maimonides’ situation, they too would have said what he said. Meaning, if I hang the halakhic position on the situation, then I am basically saying there is no halakhic position here; there is a result of the situation. And if there are sages who disagree and they lived in different situations, then that is not really a dispute. Rather, in this situation everyone agrees that one should give up one’s life, and in that situation everyone agrees that one should not give up one’s life. Yes, I’m taking it to the extreme, but I’m saying that is what basically follows. And if that is so, then it means that when today I want to know how to act, I just have to check whether the situation in which I operate resembles that of Maimonides or that of Tosafot. Wait, one second—not you, I’m speaking generally now, okay? After that we’ll get to you. And then I say: if that is so, then what comes out is that there is no dispute. There is no dispute. There are no disputes at all in Jewish law; everything is the result of context. Sage A, if he had lived in Sage B’s context, would have said what B said, and vice versa. Once you hang things on context and not on a conception, not on an interpretive or halakhic position, but on context that influences you, then you are basically saying there are no disputes—you empty the disputes of content. Okay? In contrast, in the traditional conception—wait—in the traditional conception we hang the different positions on different value conceptions. There is a dispute in value conception here. Okay? So there is a dispute between Maimonides and Tosafot: what is the relation between the value of life and resistance to threats from gentiles, and the like. Okay? Now I say: according to the traditional conception—yes, the yeshiva conception, the halakhic, traditional conception—are the researchers wrong? Does that mean that in the traditional conception the researchers are talking nonsense, they’re wrong? That’s how people are usually used to thinking. It’s not true, or at least not necessary. You can say that what brought Tosafot to their conception was the circumstances in which they operated. And what brought Maimonides to his conception was the circumstances in which he operated. Fine? But after the circumstances brought them to hold one position or the other, now we have before us two positions. Now there are these two positions, and each has its own internal logic, and we can discuss who is right, decide according to whom Jewish law should follow, and rule—as I rule. That is, the fact that I hang the positions on values or substantive conceptions and not on the influence of circumstances does not mean that the researchers are necessarily wrong when they say the circumstances did have an effect. Yes, statements like “our sages were heavenly beings who were not influenced by circumstances and it was all just pure intellect”—that’s nonsense. Of course they were influenced by circumstances, and there is excellent evidence for this in scholarship. But the conclusions of the researchers do not necessarily follow from this. Because even if the circumstances caused those medieval authorities to adopt one halakhic position or another, that does not mean that after the position was created it cannot stand on its own. Now there is this value position and that value position, and I have to discuss and make decisions, bring proofs, as we do in halakhic discussion. This is what in the philosophy of science is called the context of discovery and the context of justification. What does that mean? When someone comes and says, I propose the theory of relativity. Fine? Einstein. You ask him: how did you come up with this crazy idea? He says: my grandmother appeared to me last night in a dream and told me that light always moves at a constant speed and time contracts and length stretches and whatever you want. Okay. Now what am I supposed to do with something like that? So the claim is: maybe his grandmother appeared, maybe she didn’t—it doesn’t matter. Not because it isn’t true that she appeared, or maybe it is true—it doesn’t matter. I want to know whether it’s true. I just test it in the laboratory. If the theory is correct, as far as I’m concerned it can come from his grandmother. If the theory is not correct, then even if it came from Moses our Teacher, it is not correct. Okay? In short, what interests me in a scientific theory is substantive discussion. I’m not interested in the context of discovery, how you discovered the theory. What interests me in a scientific theory is substantive discussion. I’m not interested in the context of discovery, how you discovered the theory. What interests me is the context of justification: is there justification, does it work? Is it true? Okay? Same thing here. What I am claiming is that even if the researchers are right and they explain the context of discovery—that is, how did Maimonides arrive at his halakhic theory in the laws of sanctifying God’s name, and how did Tosafot arrive at their theory in the laws of sanctifying God’s name—so you explained to me how it came to them, Elijah’s revelation, their grandmother, or the circumstances. It doesn’t matter. Now I ask myself: I have before me two positions. These positions, each one has justification. You don’t adopt a position without justification. It has justification. There are considerations in this direction and considerations in that direction. Now when I discuss this, I’m not a researcher. I’m not interested in the circumstances that gave birth to this theory. What interests me is which theory is correct. How to define each theory, what the correct theory is, whether there are proofs against it from the Talmud, in its favor, all those things. I conduct a discussion like one conducts in the study hall. Okay? Not because the researchers are not right, but because they deal with the context of discovery, and I deal with the context of justification. I deal with the question whether this is right or not. Okay? I don’t care right now what your motivations were and why you wanted—whether the walls needed to be raised or did not need to be raised. Okay? For example, there is a case I once wrote about regarding this matter. There is a Maimonides who writes, I think, in the laws of hiring, Maimonides writes there that if I deposited an animal with a guardian—I deposited an animal with a guardian—and the guardian watched it properly, and nevertheless it went out and caused damage, then the guardian is exempt; he guarded it properly. But then they come to the owner of the house and sue him. He pays. Now this is against the Talmud. The Talmud says: what do you mean? I gave it to a guardian, the guardian guarded it properly, I also did my duty, I gave it to a guardian. So I am exempt. Both the guardian is exempt and I am exempt. And Maimonides says no, the guardian is exempt and you are liable. Fine? Now that is against the Talmud. The Maggid Mishneh finds an answer. He writes there some explanation of how nevertheless this fits with the Talmud. Fine? Look on the other side of the page, there is Kesef Mishneh. The Kesef Mishneh brings a letter of Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides, who brings in the name of his father that this is a scribal error. A scribal error in Maimonides. Meaning, they simply copied incorrectly what Maimonides said; he wrote like the Talmud. They copied it wrong. Continue on—now move to Siftei Frankel. There, look now at the later authorities on this Maimonides, and they continue reconciling Maimonides’ view with the Maggid Mishneh. They continue reconciling it. There is a Rabbi Chaim on this matter who explains the proofs behind Maimonides’ view. Now Rabbi Chaim read the Kesef Mishneh, I assume; in all the standard editions of Maimonides, Kesef Mishneh and Maggid Mishneh appear. It’s not that he did not accept it—he accepted it. He says: even if it’s not Maimonides, I don’t care how the Maggid Mishneh’s method was born. It was born because there was a scribal error in Maimonides and he felt the need to reconcile Maimonides with the Talmud, and he proposed a reconciliation. Now in the final analysis, it was a scribal error in Maimonides. But the fact is that the Maggid Mishneh was willing to stand behind such a halakhic theory and claims that it fits the Talmud. So I don’t have Maimonides’ view; I have the Maggid Mishneh’s view. Why should I care how it was created? That’s the context of discovery. The context of discovery is how the Maggid Mishneh came up with this method, how he discovered this strange theory. Fine? Why should I care. Now he is prepared to stand behind it in order to reconcile Maimonides, but he is prepared to stand behind it. Meaning, from his point of view, something like this does fit the Talmud. So this is a position that needs to be discussed. One needs to understand whether it is right, not right, even rule according to it in Jewish law. It doesn’t matter. The fact that something developed in a certain way says nothing about the question whether it is true or not. We need to examine it on its own merits, whether it is true or not true. Now I’m coming back to you after this whole move. Okay, what I basically want. There’s just one thing that doesn’t fit for me: if you go with Hillel or with Rabbah, they are always lenient—you know that he always finds something to be lenient about. Isn’t there something to that? So I’ll explain, I’ll explain that too. First of all, the implication. The implication is that if I now know that someone wants to be lenient, that could be—it’s all fine—that could be his motivation. I’m not claiming it isn’t true that he wanted to be lenient; maybe he wanted to be lenient. That’s not the plane of discussion I’m engaging in. I want to discuss his claim. In the end, after all the motivations, what does he say? And does what he says fit the sources? Does it not fit the sources? Is it reasonable? Is it not reasonable? That is my discussion. Not because he has no motivations—he has motivations—but they are not important to me; that’s only the context of discovery. I deal with the context of justification. Okay? And therefore I’m not interested in whether Rabbah wanted to be lenient or didn’t want to be lenient; what interests me is what he said, and whether what he said is a thesis that stands, what his assumptions are, and so on. Now more generally I say this: once I was on a panel with two yeshiva heads, we were speaking—it was at Gush with Rabbi Ra’am HaCohen and Rabbi Moshe Lichtenstein, from Otniel and from Gush. And we were talking—I don’t remember anymore about what—there was some panel on some topic. And one of them said that someone wanted to be lenient or someone wanted to be original or something like that, some halakhic decisor, and therefore he adopted such a method. And I said to them: look, maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t interest me. I’m not dealing with the question whether the halakhic decisor wanted to be lenient, wanted to be original, wanted to be conservative, wanted all kinds of motivations. Not because he has no motivations—he has motivations, he’s not an angel, he’s a human being, he has motivations—but still, the substantive discussion has to be conducted on what he said. More than that: when a halakhic decisor formulates a position, he is not allowed to say to himself, I want to be lenient, and therefore I will permit on an ordinary holiday and forbid only on a holiday that falls on the eve of the Sabbath. No. He has to discuss substantively what seems correct to him. If it seems this way to him, he will be lenient; if it seems that way to him, he will be strict. The researcher on the side who looks at that decisor and suddenly sees that in many places it comes out that he rules leniently like the House of Hillel, say, against the House of Shammai, can say: look, this decisor has a characteristic, this decisor tends toward leniency. That’s fine. Maybe he is even right. But that is not the level of halakhic discussion that is relevant. That is the researcher’s level. Meaning, a researcher can come and say this is a decisor who tends toward leniency, this is a decisor who tends toward stringency. In halakhic discussion, you are not supposed to—that is not discussion. I do not say I want to be original and therefore I’ll propose such an explanation. What do you mean? The question is whether the explanation is correct. If in my eyes it is correct, then it is correct. A researcher will come from the side and say, wow, that’s original. He has a very interesting explanation that seems correct to him, an original explanation—how did he think of it. But that is the researcher’s business. To say that I am conservative, that I am liberal, that I am original, that I want to be lenient, that I want to be strict—that is all the researcher’s business. The decisor has to say what he thinks. That’s all. So the question of “the power of leniency”—is that problematic? What? There are approaches where people rule according to the power of leniency. Right. If you explicitly take into account the desire to be lenient, it is forbidden to do such a thing. It’s not relevant. There are places where I say: I have two options. To rule this way or to rule that way. And someone is in distress here. That, yes. In a place where you have two options, where from an analytical halakhic standpoint both options exist, and there is distress here, you can say that by virtue of the power of leniency I want to be lenient. Fine, that’s okay. But I cannot use the leniency itself, the desire to be lenient, as a basis that explains or grounds my position. My position has to be grounded from within itself. This is a terribly important point. Because very often these arguments are always conducted around the question whether our rabbis were ministering angels who were influenced by nothing—that’s the traditional learner—or the researchers who say that everything was
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] after all just the landscape of his birthplace, and they had no positions of their own.
[Speaker C] And both sides are wrong.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They were not ministering angels; they were influenced by their surroundings. A person is the landscape of his birthplace. Every person
[Speaker I] is influenced by his environment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that is obvious. On the other hand, that does not mean that now they are merely presenting something that has no substantive rationale. Meaning, take what he
[Speaker J] says and check whether it holds water, whether it makes sense,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] whether it fits the sources or does not fit the sources. Which of the two sides fits better, and rule Jewish law as you think. Afterward the researcher will come to you and ask why you ruled that this one makes more sense than that one, and he’ll say, ah, you too were the landscape of your birthplace.
[Speaker C] Fine, researchers also need to make a living.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, maybe he is right—not because he isn’t right. I’m saying fine, that is the researcher’s job. He makes a living from it, and that is perfectly fine. He makes a living from it not in the sense that I’m mocking him because he isn’t right, but in the sense that he
[Speaker C] deals with other considerations.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It doesn’t concern me. Okay? It’s like someone who studies Talmud—he studies how the Talmud was bound, how they made the threads that sew the volume together, and he studies Talmud too; he just deals with aspects that don’t interest me in the study hall. Fine? How Talmud books are bound. Or which printer printed the Talmud, what the quarrels were over the rights of the Widow Romm and all sorts of things like that. Fine, those are all matters for researchers, all excellent. But that is not Talmud study in the sense we are talking about in the study hall. In the study hall we study the things themselves, the context of justification, not the context of discovery. If the conclusion turns out to be correct, then there is no such thing as an opinion. Right, that’s why I said: if you take it to the extreme, then yes. Right. You can say there is an opinion and the circumstances caused them to adopt that opinion. But still, someone else in the same circumstances might not adopt that opinion. So that is a softer formulation. I took it to the extreme only to show, to demonstrate the logic. If with my mind, with my circumstances, with all… everyone would be like me… Fine, it may even be true, but not everyone has your mind. Meaning, everyone has his own mind. And if everything is circumstances, then everything is circumstances, and then there is no opinion. Really, as I said—I’m saying, that’s if everything is circumstances. But a more moderate researcher can say: not everything is circumstances. I can explain that circumstances create a bias in this direction, but it could be that someone else in the same circumstances would think differently. There are disputes between people who live in the same circumstances. Researchers do not deny that. I only took it to the extreme in order to demonstrate the logic of the matter; it’s not… I don’t think there is a childish researcher who would really say such a thing and take it all the way. So basically the researchers divide this matter up—there is also a halakhic version, that there is a time of persecution, that there is… Yes, but then there is no…
[Speaker C] But then again there is no dispute.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but in a time of persecution one must give up one’s life even over a shoelace, and not in a time of persecution only for the three cardinal sins.
[Speaker C] But there is a dispute between Tosafot and Maimonides.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] About their own people, about their own time. So that’s what I’m saying. According to that conception, there is no dispute between Tosafot and Maimonides. I’m saying anything is possible. But in the study hall we understand that there is a dispute between Tosafot and Maimonides. Right? So what does that mean? That they were in fact speaking about the same situation. They were not speaking about a different situation. The circumstances were different, but in terms of halakhic categories it was not a time of persecution. If it were a time of persecution, Maimonides too agrees that one must give up one’s life—that is simple Jewish law,
[Speaker J] Maimonides rules that too.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So why do they disagree? They disagree because even in ordinary circumstances they disagree. True, the ordinary circumstances of Tosafot and of Maimonides were different, fine. In terms of halakhic categories, they are not dealing with the laws of a time of persecution; they are dealing with the laws of sanctifying God’s name in ordinary times. Fine? I didn’t understand the argument that this is a matter of sanctifying God’s name. Right. If they had made that argument, then indeed there would be no dispute—yes, exactly.
[Speaker J] They are simply talking about
[Speaker J] different cases.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’ll stop here. The children are tired. Slowly, slowly. Wait, one second. Okay, thank you very much. Good afternoon.
[Speaker K] Thank you. Good afternoon.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Is there also next week?
[Speaker K] What about next week?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s some kind of Hanukkah break.
[Speaker K] No.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the vacation is Thursday through Sunday, including Sunday. Yes. That’s the break. Other than that, we always finish at four for candle lighting. So there won’t be the classes; from four onward there won’t be any.
[Speaker L] Starting Sunday?
[Speaker B] There won’t be two classes.
[Speaker C] Now. We’ll write it in the WhatsApp group.
[Speaker J] Can I get a link to join the group?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Are you a student? No. If you’re not a student, then ask them.
[Speaker J] In principle, for now—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They didn’t succeed.
[Speaker J] No, the course on Sunday I know, I’ve already been.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Come—there’s a group? No. Isn’t there a source sheet beforehand? There’s no source sheet. I upload recordings to Moodle or to WhatsApp; the best thing is
[Speaker I] to look on WhatsApp. Thank you very much. You’re welcome.