Ethics, Faith, and Halakha – Lesson 9 – Rabbi Michael Abraham
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- The meaning of command and the obligation to obey
- Deism, the creator’s authority, and the question of revelation
- Values as fundamental principles and the structure of reasoning
- Types of values and the parallel between systems of obligation
- Value conflict, a scale of values, and the problem of incommensurability
- Mathematical examples and the distinction between types of incommensurability
- Value versus means: caution on the road and health
- Conflict without resolution: Sartre and the student in occupied Paris
- The example of the actor, the doctor, and the million dollars
- Torah and scriptural decree versus meaninglessness
- The Yoma passage: sources for saving a life overriding the Sabbath
- The two arguments and the claim that they contradict each other
- A reconciling interpretation: bypassing measurement rather than denying the value of life
- Critique of a simplistic reading of “many Sabbaths” and its implications
- Violating the Sabbath to save a non-Jew, “because of enmity,” and Meiri
- A trigger for finding a halakhic argument: Modern Orthodox, Reform, and examples
- Concluding remarks and a position on clever homiletic quips
Summary
General Overview
The text argues that in practice there is religious or moral value only when an act is done מתוך obligation to a command, and that even when there is a command one still has to ask, “Why obey it?” The only answer is “Because God commanded,” since the very concept of God includes absolute obligation to obey His commands. The text presents a value as a fundamental principle that does not require justification and at which every chain of reasoning stops, and goes on to explain that moral, religious, legal, and other systems of obligation are built on a set of values from which practical demands are derived. The text sharpens the problem of the incommensurability of values, which makes it difficult to construct a hierarchy of values and decide conflicts, but argues that our intuition that quantitative considerations are relevant hints at the existence of some abstract common measure such as “degree of goodness” or “degree of fittingness.” It then discusses the Talmudic passage in Yoma about saving life and the Sabbath, with the arguments of the Tannaim and of Shmuel, and proposes a reading according to which the arguments do not contradict each other because Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya bypasses the problem of measuring between values rather than canceling the value of life.
The Meaning of Command and the Obligation to Obey
The text argues that an act has religious value only if it is done out of obligation to a command, and likewise that the moral value of an act depends on its being done out of obligation to a moral command. The text asks: even if there is a command, so what? It raises the question of justifying obedience and states that the only answer is “Because God commanded.” The text defines the concept of God as a concept that includes absolute obligation to obey His commands, and therefore someone who says, “I believe in God but I don’t understand why one must obey His commands,” does not believe in God but in something else. The text adds that this is why judges are also called “God” in the biblical passage.
Deism, the Creator’s Authority, and the Question of Revelation
The text distinguishes between someone who believes in God and someone who believes only in a creator on the basis of a cosmological proof, and argues that this has nothing to do with religiosity. The text says that deism too includes obligation to a command; the deist simply does not think there was any command. If he became convinced that God commanded, then he would be obligated to obey. The text argues that the debate between a deist and someone who believes in revelation is not a debate on the level of “what is right to do,” but rather a factual dispute over whether there was revelation and whether there were commands, such as the revelation at Mount Sinai.
Values as Fundamental Principles and the Structure of Reasoning
The text argues that every chain of reasoning that justifies demands must begin from some principle that itself does not require justification, otherwise we are dragged into an infinite regress, and such a principle is called a “value.” The text defines a value as a principle whose validity is inherent and cannot be justified from outside; the moment you justify it, you reveal that for you it is not really the value. The text says that every ethical claim rests on values, and that ethical reasoning works by claiming that an act harms a value or promotes a value; when one asks, “Why should this value be promoted?” the answer is, “Because it is a value.” The text compares this to the structure of the concept of God, where the question “If this is God, then why obey?” loses its internal force.
Types of Values and the Parallel Between Systems of Obligation
The text says that at the base of the moral world sits a system of values, and that at the base of the system of religious obligations too there are values, though they are not necessarily moral values but can also be religious values, such as the prohibition on eating pork, which is not a moral issue but is still a religious value. The text adds that there are aesthetic values, human values, legal values, and others, and gives as an example the obligation to drive on the right side of the road as a legal rather than moral value. The text argues that the logical structure of all these systems is the same: a set of values at the base from which practical demands and prohibitions are derived in different situations.
Value Conflict, a Scale of Values, and the Problem of Incommensurability
The text assumes that values can conflict, and gives the example of saving a life versus keeping the Sabbath. It presents the common view according to which one constructs a hierarchical scale of values, and thus resolves conflict by setting aside the lower value in favor of the higher one. The text formulates a philosophical problem with constructing such a scale, called “incommensurability,” and defines it as the impossibility of measuring values by means of a common standard that would allow comparison. The text illustrates incommensurability with the question, “What is there more of: human kindness or water in the ocean?” and argues that the question is meaningless because there is no shared unit of measurement.
Mathematical Examples and the Distinction Between Types of Incommensurability
The text gives a mathematical example of rational numbers like one-half and one-third, which do have a common measure, as opposed to irrational numbers like pi and e, which do not have a common denominator when expressed as fractions. The text says that even so one can still say that pi is greater than e when they are measured in a common unit such as length, and from this concludes that “having no common denominator” is not identical to “having no common measure in the broader sense.” It argues that in examples like kindness versus water there is no shared scale at all, and therefore the comparison has no meaning whatsoever.
Value Versus Means: Caution on the Road and Health
The text argues that driving carefully is not a value but a means serving a more basic value, such as the value of life, and therefore one can explain why one must drive carefully in terms of the possible harm to life. The text says that when one asks, “Why is life a value?” there is no answer, because that is precisely the nature of a value: it does not rest on external justification. The text argues that one can compare driving carefully and eating healthily because both are measured on a common scale in terms of risk to the value of life, even if in practice it is hard to answer because of complexity and varying intensities.
Conflict Without Resolution: Sartre and the Student in Occupied Paris
The text brings Sartre’s example of a student in occupied Paris who is torn between helping his sick mother and joining the Free French army to fight the Nazis. The text presents this as a clash between the value of fighting evil and the value of helping one’s mother, and argues that there is no way even to begin deciding, because there is no way to measure which is “more important.” The text says that a quantitative consideration such as “his mother depends only on him, whereas in the army there are millions” does not work under incommensurability, and yet it still intuitively seems like a relevant consideration.
The Example of the Actor, the Doctor, and the Million Dollars
The text gives an example from an article by Shay Wosner about an actor who is offered a million dollars for a cigarette commercial that would require him to smoke three or four cigarettes, and a doctor who says, “In my capacity as a doctor I forbid you… in my capacity as a friend, hurry up and go.” The text argues that if a quantitative consideration seems relevant here too, then we should assume there is some common measure even between economic value and health value, although they belong to different domains. The text proposes calling that measure “degree of fittingness,” a general abstract metric through which people compare even different kinds of values, even if they cannot conceptualize exactly how the comparison is made.
Torah and Scriptural Decree Versus Meaninglessness
The text argues that a question like “What is there more of, water in the ocean or kindness?” is meaningless, and therefore even a scriptural decree cannot “reveal” an answer to it, because there is no answer not due to lack of knowledge but due to lack of definition. The text applies this to the halakhic context and argues that if saving a life and the Sabbath were absolutely incommensurable, then even a verse could not decide between them, because deciding by means of a verse presupposes that there is at least some meaningful way to decide.
The Yoma Passage: Sources for Saving a Life Overriding the Sabbath
The text cites the Talmudic discussion in Yoma on the question, “From where do we know that saving a life overrides the Sabbath?” and brings the answers of the Tannaim, including Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya: “Profane one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths,” and Shmuel’s answer: “And live by them—and not die by them.” The text emphasizes that the wording of the question assumes the law is already clear in advance, and the whole inquiry concerns only its source; likewise the objection, “We have found certainty, but from where do we know in a case of doubt?” assumes that it is already known that even a doubtful case of life-danger overrides the Sabbath. The text notes the unusual fact that an Amora such as Shmuel is presented as preferable to the Tannaim in establishing the source, and explains this in terms of Rav and Shmuel and Rav’s historical position relative to the Tannaim.
The Two Arguments and the Claim That They Contradict Each Other
The text says that in the halakhic decisors two sources are quoted mainly: “And live by them” and “Profane one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.” It presents an initial reading according to which the arguments seem contradictory, because “Profane one Sabbath for him” appears to treat the value of life as a means to future commandment observance, whereas “And live by them” presents life as a supreme value before which commandments give way when they threaten life. The text cites the Or HaChaim, who asks about violating the Sabbath to save someone who does not keep the commandments, and notes that the halakhic decisors do not accept his conclusion.
A Reconciling Interpretation: Bypassing Measurement Rather than Denying the Value of Life
The text argues that the two reasons do not contradict each other because Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya is not saying that life has no value; rather, he is dealing with the problem of incommensurability between the value of life and the value of the Sabbath by bypassing the need to measure them against each other. The text proposes a formal formulation in which choosing to violate the Sabbath involves the loss of one Sabbath and the gain of many future Sabbaths together with the gain of the value of life, whereas not violating it leaves only one Sabbath; thus the decision is possible without determining a measurable ratio between the value of the Sabbath and the value of life. The text emphasizes that the point is that “we violate the Sabbath” even though there is no essential answer to the question of which is more important, the value of life or the value of the Sabbath, and that this is a brilliant move that enables action without a measurable hierarchy of values.
Critique of a Simplistic Reading of “Many Sabbaths” and Its Implications
The text argues that a simplistic reading of “Profane one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths” is unreasonable, because it could imply permission to violate the Sabbath in order to gain future Sabbath observance by bringing someone to repentance, and the text does not accept that as a sufficient reason. The text argues that the value of life is present in the decision alongside the consideration of future Sabbaths, and that the Sabbaths consideration alone does not justify violating the Sabbath. The text shows that including the value of life in the equation together with the gain of future Sabbath observance is what tips the scales even without any possibility of measuring the values on a shared scale.
Violating the Sabbath to Save a Non-Jew, “Because of Enmity,” and Meiri
The text raises the question of how it could be that Jewish law does not permit violating the Sabbath to save the life of a non-Jew, and presents a possible apologetic answer through a reading of “many Sabbaths,” but rejects it as incorrect because the value of life is indeed part of the equation. The text argues that current halakhic rulings permitting Sabbath violation to save non-Jews are sometimes based on technical considerations such as fear of enmity, desecration of God’s name, and matters of “our hand is not strong,” and mentions an article claiming that the Chatam Sofer used such reasons as tools for a moral agenda, though the text rejects that. The text presents the view that nowadays one should violate the Sabbath to save a non-Jew because the original prohibition was said only regarding non-Jews “who were not bound by the norms of civilized nations,” and bases this on Meiri, who writes in many places that these laws do not apply to nations bound by civilized norms.
A Trigger for Finding a Halakhic Argument: Modern Orthodox, Reform, and Examples
The text distinguishes between changing Jewish law “because of the distress” and changing Jewish law “in response to the distress,” where the distress is a trigger for seeking internal halakhic mechanisms that actually hold up. The text recounts the controversy around Professor Yitzhak Gilat’s book Chapters in the Development of Jewish Law and presents an interpretation according to which he did not claim that leniencies were granted because of circumstances, but rather that the circumstances led people to search, at the end of which halakhic reasons were found. The text formulates a rule according to which a Reform approach changes things without halakhic arguments, where the distress itself is the reason, while a Modern Orthodox approach searches for halakhic arguments in response to the distress, but the permission depends on the argument and not on the distress. The text gives the example of Rabbi Polissuk, who offers halakhic arguments for a ceremony for same-sex couples, and argues that although he disagrees with those arguments, the very fact that the argument is made within a halakhic framework makes the dispute an internal one within Jewish law rather than Reform.
Concluding Remarks and a Position on Clever Homiletic Quips
The text distances itself from clever quips and homiletic sermons that try to ground halakhic claims on wordplay such as singular and plural forms of “life,” and describes such quips as a domain that does not require truth in the same way Jewish law does. The text concludes by noting that “incommensurability” is the accepted philosophical term for this issue, and that from here the discussion will continue in the next chapter.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, I talked a bit about the meaning of command, the meaning of command at the basis of moral obligation and also Torah-based or halakhic / of Jewish law obligation, and the claim was that a certain act has religious value only if it is done out of obligation to a command. And likewise regarding moral value as well. And then I noted that basically there’s a question sitting in the background: even if there is a command, so what? Meaning, why obey it? And I said that the only answer to that question is simply this: because God commanded. And the claim is that the concept of God includes within it an absolute obligation to obey His commands. And someone who says, “I believe in God, but I don’t understand why one has to obey His commands,” doesn’t believe in God, he believes in something else. Meaning, the concept of God includes within it the obligation to obey. I said that that’s also why judges are called “God” in that biblical passage.
[Speaker B] Maybe he believes in it, sort of, like through some proof, like a cosmological proof or something, that he believes there’s some creator, but…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that has nothing to do with it. Meaning, deism too believes in obligation to a command; it just doesn’t think there was a command. But the deist who believes in the existence of God in principle—if he became convinced that God commanded, then he would be obligated to obey. He just claims that he doesn’t believe there was revelation or that there was a command. Because the assumption that if He created the world then He has authority—that’s a philosophical assumption that in my view has nothing to do with religiosity. It supposedly follows from the very fact that He created the world. Except what? The deist can say: yes, if He had commanded, I would obey; I just don’t believe He commanded. Meaning, I don’t accept that there was a revelation at Mount Sinai. So the dispute between them is not a dispute on the level of what is right to do; rather, it’s a factual dispute: was there revelation and were there commands, or not? And then I said that basically every chain of reasoning—if we start talking about chains of reasoning, chains that explain to us or justify demands made of us—they always begin from some principle that itself does not require justification, right? Because otherwise we’re dragged into an infinite regress. And that principle, which itself does not require justification—that principle is called a value. A value is something whose force or correctness is inherent, meaning built in. You don’t need to justify values. The moment you justify a value, you’ve revealed by that very act that it isn’t really a value for you. So then what is the value? The principle on the basis of which you justified that thing—that principle, that’s probably your value. So in the end, in the end, it has to be something you accept by virtue of what it is; meaning, it doesn’t require external justification, justification from outside itself. And therefore the picture I described about the meaning of command and the duty to obey naturally leads us to the concept of value. The concept of value is basically a principle—in the moral context, say, a moral principle, an ethical principle—which is a kind of ethical axiom that every ethical claim rests on. Meaning, if I want to tell you that you should do something or that you’re forbidden to do something else, the ethical explanation will be because you are harming such-and-such a value, or because you are promoting such-and-such a value. That will be the explanation. And when I ask, but why should one promote or not harm that value? The answer is: simply because it’s a value. That’s the meaning of the concept of value. Meaning, a value means something one ought to act for. You can tell me, “I don’t see that as a value.” You can’t tell me, “If it’s a value, then why obey it?” That’s the same thing again as with God—meaning, there’s some kind of problem there. So the concept of value, according to the definition I just proposed, is basically a necessary outgrowth of the picture I described. At the base of our moral world sits a system of values. Okay? And that’s in the moral context. Also in the religious context, at the base of the system of our religious obligations, there are values. But those values are not necessarily moral values; they can also be religious values. Not eating pork—eating pork is not a moral problem. But it is still a value, it’s a religious value. Meaning, from a religious standpoint it is forbidden to eat pork, even though it doesn’t harm people, there’s no moral problem here. So this structure, in which values sit at the base of the system of our obligations, is true in the moral context and also true in the religious context. Throughout, you’ll see that there is a full parallel between these two systems. And I said, I added, that there are other kinds of values too. There are moral values, there are religious values, I said there are aesthetic values, human values, this kind and that kind—there can always be all kinds of values. There can also be legal values. The law, for example—driving on the left side of the road, that’s a value; the right side of the road, that’s a value, yes. There’s a famous joke about someone driving on the Ayalon highway, calling his wife and saying, “Listen, everyone here is driving the wrong way today.” So she immediately calls the police. Meaning, the obligation to drive on the right side of the road is not moral and it’s not anything like that; it’s a legal obligation. That is, the law requires driving on the right side of the road, okay? So there are all kinds of values. But the logical structure of the system is the same structure. At the base there is a set of values; on top of that I can build derivative demands in all kinds of situations: you need to do this, you need to do that, because the value requires this or forbids that. Okay? So the set of values is basically the foundation on which I build the practical demands or prohibitions—in the religious world, in the moral world, in the legal world, it doesn’t matter, in every professional guild or things like that. Now, at the end, at the end of last time I talked about a scale of values and incommensurability. So I want to sharpen those points a bit, because that’s where I’m going on from.
[Speaker B] Give a short definition of…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Of incommensurability. Ah, wait, we’ll get to that in a moment. So the claim is that values can clash with one another. Right?
[Speaker C] Who determines those values at all?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know—decide for yourself which values you accept. I’m not getting into the question of who determines them right now; we’ll get to that later. It’s an important question, but for the moment I’m still ignoring it. I’m laying the groundwork so that we can get to that question, because that question will lead us to God. But I need a bit of construction first. So the claim is that values can conflict. Right? Saving a life and the Sabbath. I can be committed to the value of Sabbath observance, I’m committed to the value of life, but situations can arise in which there is a clash between the value of life and keeping the Sabbath. What happens in such a case? So usually the view is that in such a case I need to act according to my scale of values. A scale of values means that I need to arrange my set of values on some scale that determines their importance. The more important one is, say, higher up; the less important one is lower down. Once I’ve built a scale of values, then if there’s a conflict, I look—for example between value B and value Z—there’s a conflict. Value Z is higher, it’s more important, so it overrides value B. Meaning, if I have a scale of values, I use it to decide what to do in situations of conflict. If there’s a clash between values, the scale helps me make decisions.
[Speaker C] Except that there’s a problem—within the values you have different values, right? Each time it can change.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, change each time? You have a scale of values, what’s more important than what.
[Speaker C] The scale of values itself is something analog, it can be—for instance, a person you see injured, seriously injured, not seriously injured—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doesn’t matter, fine.
[Speaker C] No, to transport him on the Sabbath for example. Yes, the question is whether really—that’s what I’m saying.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So if he’s seriously injured and his life is in danger, then we’re talking about the value of life. If his life is not in danger, then it’s the value of suffering, or preventing suffering. Doesn’t matter—those are values, everything is values, okay? Right, it can appear in different intensities. There are things that are very harmful to health, and things that are only a little harmful to health. Right, so even if you say the value of health is a value, obviously it can appear at different levels, different intensities. Okay, that’s clear, but maybe I’ll comment on that later as well. In any case, the claim is that when I come to build a scale of values, I basically need to place all the values on some scale, and that will determine the hierarchy among them. Except that there’s a philosophical problem with building a scale of values. And that is the problem of incommensurability. What does that mean? When you build a scale of values— incommensurability. Incommensurable means lacking a common measure. There is no common measure. There’s no way to measure two values and determine which is greater than which, because they don’t have a shared unit of measurement. So the claim is this: in order to place—let’s speak of two values—I want to place them on the scale and see which is higher than the other. So I need to measure the values on some scale, but that isn’t enough. I need to measure them on the same scale, both values. Since I can’t—as I mentioned before—if I ask you what there is more of: human kindness or water in the ocean. There’s no answer to that question, right? Why? Because it’s incommensurable. Meaning, it’s not measured in the same units. You can’t compare a quantity of kindness with a quantity of water. They simply aren’t measured in the same units. In order to measure two things, they need to have a shared unit of measurement. Maybe I’ll sharpen that further. In mathematics too they talk about incommensurability. But there, for example, real numbers that are irrational are numbers for which two numbers have no common measure. Say rational numbers—for example one-half and one-third. They do have a common measure. The common measure is one-sixth. One-third is two sixths and one-half is three sixths, right? So I can find a common measure that measures them both, and then I know that one-half is greater than one-third. Because one-half has three units of the common measure, while one-third has only two units of the common measure.
[Speaker C] But in mathematics there are cases where there isn’t any shared unit of measurement.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s incommensurable. You can’t—there’s no common measure. For example pi and e. Pi and e are two irrational, real numbers. So do those numbers have some shared unit of measurement, a common denominator as you called it before? The answer is no. Those are irrational numbers. Rational numbers are numbers you can write as a fraction. These numbers cannot be written as a fraction. Therefore every number that can be written as a fraction—of course for two such numbers you can find a common denominator. But for irrational numbers, real numbers that are not rational, you can’t find a common measure. But can I still determine that pi is greater than e? Pi is three point something and e is two point something. Right? Meaning, pi is greater than e. How can that be? Because in fact they do have a common measure. The common measure is centimeters, or length. So you say this is pi centimeters and that is e centimeters. Fine—then there is a shared unit of measurement. There isn’t a common fraction that divides them both, but there is measurement, there is a common measure, and I can talk about which is larger. By contrast, with water in the ocean versus human kindness, there there is no common measure not only in the mathematical sense. There is no common measure—it’s not even on the same scale. I have nothing with which to compare those two things. Pi and e both describe length, say—we’re talking about length, it doesn’t matter, some quantity or other. So I can compare them because they can both be measured in the same thing. But kindness and the amount of water in the ocean are not measured in the same units. Meaning, it’s not because kindness has e units and water in the ocean has pi units—not because of that. On the contrary: you can’t attach e and pi of the same type to water in the ocean and to kindness, right? The problem is much deeper than mathematical incommensurability. It simply does not measure the same thing. Therefore it seems that if I do not find a shared unit of measurement for different values, I cannot build a scale of values. Now from the picture I described earlier about what values are, it follows that there really can’t be a common measure. Why? Because in order to measure two values in the same unit of measurement, I basically need to reduce each of them to something more fundamental and then ask how much of that more fundamental thing exists in value A and how much of it exists in value B. Then I can compare value A and value B. But there is nothing more fundamental by means of which I can measure either value A by itself or value B by itself, let alone both of them together on the same basis.
[Speaker B] What about how important it is to the person who upholds the value?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I’m asking how he determines how important it is. You’re already assuming there is a scale of values, and then you’re saying—you… you can ask me how strongly I feel it’s important, fine, but that’s just an illusion, philosophy says. It’s not really so, because there can’t actually be a way for you to show how important it is or which is more important than which. The fact that you have such feelings, okay, we have lots of feelings—that’s an illusion. So the claim is basically that… since a value, as I defined it before, does not serve anything else outside itself, there is no scale on which to measure it. Say, I think I gave the example, yes—driving carefully on the road, okay? That’s important, right? Is it a value? The answer is no, it’s not a value. Why? Because it serves something more fundamental, which is the value. That more fundamental thing is the value of life, mine or others’. Okay? One should drive carefully on the road in order not to harm life, in order not to harm the value of life. So in fact life is the value, and that explains why one may not drive carelessly. Okay. Meaning that now when I ask—and life, what does it contribute to? Why is it a value? There is no answer to that. Right? That’s the essence, the meaning of the fact that life is a value: that I cannot reduce it to something else that would explain it or give it value. It is what gives value to other things. Okay. But if I can’t reduce it to something prior, then I can ask—when I ask myself how important it is to drive carefully on the road, okay?—I have a principled way to answer that: to the extent that it endangers life. And if I know that it greatly endangers life, then it has such-and-such significance. If I want to compare, say, two things—what’s more important, driving carefully or eating healthily? That’s a question that has meaning. It’s a bit hard to answer, but it is a meaningful question. It’s not a nonsensical question. Why?
[Speaker C] The caution you can clarify, but that…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not clear, because it depends what counts as caution; there are many kinds of carelessness. And with health too, the question is what kind of unhealthy food and how unhealthy it is, and not everything we even know. Fine, so it’s practically hard to answer, but there’s no problem with the question—the question is well defined. Why? Because those two things are measured on the same scale, in terms of the value of life. The question is: each of them is basically some kind of harm to or preservation of the value of life, and now I’m asking where the harm is greater. Right? So in principle there’s no problem. I can say: if the harm involved in carelessness on the road is greater—if not being careful on the road is more dangerous than eating unhealthily—then I can know that eating unhealthily is less important, right? Eating healthily is less important than driving carefully. Okay. How is such a consideration structured? I took those two things and measured them by the same scale: how dangerous is it? That’s the shared scale. Once I assign some number of units to this and to that, I can determine which is more important. But I have no way to do that between two things that are not measured on the same scale. What’s the difference when I want to compare, say, Sabbath observance and the value of life? Yes, saving a life overrides the Sabbath. How do I do that? By what unit will I measure Sabbath observance, the importance of keeping the Sabbath? First. Second, by what unit will I measure the value of life? Third, is it the same unit? The answer to all three questions is no. I have no way to measure the value of the Sabbath, I have no way to measure the value of life, and even if there were some way, it wouldn’t be a shared way. I have no common scale. In short, the whole thing never gets off the ground. There is no way to compare between values, no way to rank them, no way to place them on the same scale and establish a hierarchy between them. That’s the problem of incommensurability. Now this basically means that if I’m in a conflict between two values, then I have no way to decide. Right? I gave that example of Sartre, I think, right? About the student in occupied Paris during World War II who came to consult with him. He had an elderly mother who needed help, the father had been murdered by the Nazis, the older brother was collaborating with the Nazis, there was nobody to talk to, in short. And the mother—yes, nice family. And now he stays there, and the mother needs help, she’s old, she’s frail, she needs help. On the other hand, he wants to escape to the Free French army, to de Gaulle, in order to fight the Nazis. But then of course he leaves Paris, goes to London or abroad. So now the question is what to do. This is a clash between two values: the value of fighting evil and the value of helping one’s mother. Right? How do you decide? Try to think for a moment—not how to decide, but how you even begin to approach such a question. Because in order to decide, you need to determine which is more important. How do you answer the question of which is more important? How do you measure the importance of fighting evil against the importance of helping your mother? I don’t know—how does one measure such a thing? You could say, for example, someone may come with a consideration of the following type. He’ll say: look, with helping his mother, if I don’t go, there’s nobody else to help—only me. But in fighting evil, the Free French army will just have one less soldier; there are millions of soldiers on the various fronts over there, right? So you could say that there is some sort of quantitative consideration here that might help me make a decision. But that doesn’t work either. Because I’ll ask you: what is there more of—kindness among all human beings, or the water in this cup that is here—not the ocean, which is very little. Right? What’s the answer? Nothing—it doesn’t matter whether it’s little or much. If you don’t measure it on the same scale, then what does it mean that this is little and that is much? You can measure a little water against a lot of water, but not a little water against a lot of kindness. Right? So here too, if you decide that fighting evil and helping one’s mother are incommensurable, then it doesn’t help that you tell me helping one’s mother is critical, it’s very important in terms of helping the mother because only I’m there, while in fighting evil I’m one out of millions so it’s not that important—that’s quantitative. But the quantity isn’t relevant, because you have no way to determine quantity of what. Meaning, there can be a quantity of billions of human beings; a very small quantity of billions of human beings is of course much more than a very large quantity of individual human beings. You have to decide what you’re measuring in order to decide what is greater than what; it’s not enough to say this is two and that is eight. Okay? That’s not relevant—two of what and eight of what? So quantities won’t help here. But on the other hand our intuition says that it is a consideration, right? Meaning, if I were to say this consideration to you, nobody would blink, right? If I said: look, the mother has no one else to help her, right? Only you. By contrast, fighting evil—okay, too bad if you’re not there, but there are millions of others; you’re not going to determine World War II. Okay? What?
[Speaker C] That they went out to fight from the outset on the assumption that they might lose their lives?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, and here too there’s a conflict, right? Threat to life versus the duty to fight, or helping the people, the state, something like that. Yes, there’s no shortage of conflict situations. I’m just trying to illustrate through this situation the problematic nature of it and the fact that it’s a dead end. Because even if you make a quantitative calculation—so what? It’s like an example I once saw in an article by Shay Wosner from Tel Aviv University. He writes there: suppose there’s an actor, someone whose profession is acting, and he gets an offer to appear in a cigarette commercial. Now in order to appear in that commercial he has to smoke maybe three or four cigarettes. They do several takes, whatever—you have to smoke a few cigarettes. Fine, smoking cigarettes isn’t healthy, right? But they offer him a million dollars to do that commercial. So he goes to his doctor friend for advice. The doctor tells him: look, in my capacity as a doctor I forbid you, because cigarettes are unhealthy; in my capacity as a friend, hurry up and go before I see you again. What does that mean? Because it’s a million dollars versus a small health cost of three or four cigarettes—it’s not some major damage. So a million dollars is obviously worth it, right? Let’s leave aside “do not place a stumbling block” for the moment. But that’s not relevant, because if these are two different values measured on different scales, then why is the quantitative consideration relevant? But all of us feel that it is relevant, right? Meaning, all of us would accept that kind of advice. Agreed? Exactly like with the student, right? So why? That means there is nevertheless something here… What happened there? I have no idea. I don’t know, that example is good for the question, not for the answer.
[Speaker C] With the student, what did he get?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I have no idea, I have no idea. He came to consult with Sartre; Sartre tells about how he came to consult him. I don’t think he wrote there what he answered him. It’s not… it’s like—you’re reminding me of Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin in Nefesh HaChaim. Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin says there that he wants to bring proofs against the Hasidim, that Torah study is not a means to produce a religious experience. Torah study is the connection to the Holy One, blessed be He; it itself is a connection to the Holy One, blessed be He. When you engage in Torah, you are engaged—you are connected to the Holy One, blessed be He. It doesn’t need to generate experiences and so on; I spoke about this a bit in my Tuesday classes. So he brings a proof. He says King David asked the Holy One, blessed be He—asked the Holy One, blessed be He—that reciting Psalms should count like the study of tractates dealing with impurity and tents, like studying Talmud, studying Jewish law, right? That reciting Psalms should count that way too. So Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin says: first, you see that basically it’s not so, because the fact is that King David had to ask, right? And besides that, it also doesn’t say what the Holy One, blessed be He, answered him. It says that he asked, okay—but what did the Holy One, blessed be He, answer? It could be that He didn’t answer. Meaning, in the end, yes, this is by way of Sartre’s question. I don’t know whether he answered or not; what matters is the question, right, not the answer. Yes, like in many places—that’s the first Rashi on the Torah. Right? So he says, why—why didn’t the Torah begin with “This month shall be for you the first of the months”? Why did it begin with Genesis? Because that’s the first commandment, right? Fine. So there’s some questionable answer there that I don’t know—it’s not convincing. But the question is a wonderful question—why? Because the question really teaches us something very important: that the Torah, fundamentally, is halakhic instruction. Everything beyond Jewish law that appears in the Torah requires justification, and basically the Torah ought to have been only Jewish law, and therefore it should have begun with “This month shall be for you the first of the months.” Now, it has other things in it too, but those additional things need justification. That’s second-tier Torah. Okay? And the justification Rashi brings there too, as I said, is not much. What does “He declared to His people the power of His works” mean—how does that help? So you answered chapter 1 for me. Chapter 1, that the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world—I got it. And what about another quarter-and-a-fifth of the Pentateuch? Fine, I also have an answer to that, but let’s not get into it now. So what I want to say is that many times the questions—the questions are what’s important, not the answers. That’s also true with Sartre. And he brings an example to show the dead-end of that kind of question. What do you do now? You have two conflicting values; you can’t measure them on a shared unit of measure. So what do you do? But as I said earlier, it seems to me that we would agree that our intuition says that a quantitative consideration is in fact relevant.
[Speaker C] It hints to us—intuition itself isn’t a concept that you can assign some definite level to.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, the question is whether you trust it or not. You decide. I trust it; everyone according to his own view. So I’m saying: if I see intuition as some kind of hint that I trust, that means that nevertheless there is some kind of shared measure there, because otherwise the quantitative consideration wouldn’t be relevant. Okay, I’ll get to that in a moment. Maybe I’ll say it already now. If, say, we talk about Sartre, right? So when I compare in my mind the value of fighting evil with the value of helping one’s mother, and I say that helping one’s mother is critical and helping the struggle is less critical—I’m only one person, you can quibble about it, I’m only one person, but on the other hand the war threatens millions. So my small contribution might save one or two people, I don’t know how many, so that still stands against the mother. Fine, I’m not getting into the discussion itself now, only the principle. So that actually means that there is something shared by these two kinds of values, and therefore quantity does matter. And that shared thing you can call the measure of good. Moral value. How much moral value there is in fighting evil, and how much moral value there is in helping one’s mother. Some very general thing like that, which I don’t know how to define, but I’m trying to work backward. And the fact that we have an intuition that the quantitative consideration really is relevant, if I decode that intuition, what it actually tells me is that apparently there is some shared scale by which I measure both sides of the equation.
[Speaker B] It’s kind of what I said. What? It’s kind of what I said. What? That what you think.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, but we need to define well what that means. So I’m saying: if I take that seriously, then what it actually means is this claim: the quantitative comparison cannot stand on its own. If my intuition tells me that the quantitative comparison has meaning, that really means that behind it I’m assuming—I’m not conscious of it, but I’m assuming—that there is indeed some shared measure here. All moral values lie on a common scale that measures the degree of good in each of them. And the degree of good—how good it is, right?—that is actually the universal moral metric, and it measures all values. Therefore, if I accept that assumption, or if I trust my intuitions, then I understand why it is nevertheless possible to build a scale of values, why values can be ranked, decisions can be made in conflicts, and so on—because there is some common scale. Okay. What about the actor? With the cigarette? Yes, where he has to smoke three or four cigarettes and the economic value is a million dollars. Fine. Now he says: look, three or four cigarettes are a small health cost, and the economic value is enormous. Economy and health—how do you compare apples and oranges? Those are two different things. So if nevertheless there too we understand that the quantitative consideration is relevant, we are persuaded by the quantitative consideration there too—I assume; at least I am persuaded, okay?—that means that there too there is a common unit of measure. Now that is a bigger innovation. Because with all moral values I say, fine, it’s the degree of good. There’s something shared by all moral values; I call that the degree of good in each of them. Okay? But when I compare an economic value with a health value, that doesn’t belong to the same field of morality. These are two completely different things. It’s an economic value—pleasant for me, I like having a million dollars—that’s not a moral issue.
[Speaker C] Not necessarily. Economic value is also an important parameter in medicine. The Talmud says that if you need a doctor, take the best doctor and the most expensive one. Okay.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So you want to say this—you’re suggesting—wait a second, I’ll get to that in a moment. What I want to argue is that if I’m willing to accept a quantitative consideration in the actor’s dilemma, then that already tells us an even more far-reaching claim. Because when the dilemma is between two moral values, it’s easier for me to say that there is some shared abstract measure there—the degree of good. Because all values deal with good and evil; they’re moral values. But when I compare values like fighting evil—no, sorry—like the economic value of earning money and health, that really doesn’t belong to the same semantic field. It’s not—why? They’re not playing on the same field. So what shared thing do these two have? So here I say: I don’t know—the degree of appropriateness, I’d say. How appropriate it is, in some very general sense—or choose another word, I don’t care. But the fact that all these kinds of considerations, after all the digging and digging, apparently in the end do have something in common. In the end I really can compare them with each other, and quantitative considerations will play a role. Which is surprising. But if I accept this intuition that quantitative considerations play a role, there’s no escaping the conclusion. And the conclusion is that there is something common to all these things. How appropriate it is to be healthy versus how appropriate it is, in my eyes, to be a millionaire. Okay? That seems more appropriate to me than a slight impairment of health. Therefore I prefer the option of acting in the movie, smoking three or four cigarettes, and earning the million dollars. Okay? How did I reach that decision? Someone else might reach a different decision, I don’t care which decision—but the very fact that I reach a decision says
[Speaker C] that there’s a basis.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, that there is some common basis to the two sides of the equation. And that already tells us that there is a common basis not only for all moral values but also for different kinds of values. Not moral values—they’re all values of one type, values that belong to the world of morality, belong to the world of morality.
[Speaker C] You still haven’t explained how he got there.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] How I got there, I don’t know. But the very fact that I reach a decision, that I was intuitively persuaded that this is the right decision—I reach a decision—means that basically I’m assuming there is some common denominator here. There is a shared basic unit.
[Speaker C] Are we talking about a general rule or an individual? The individual—each individual can decide on some sort of measure…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, then your measure—doesn’t matter. So maybe my measures will be different. But the very fact that you decided—I didn’t say whether this measure is objective or not, whether everyone agrees with it or not. At the moment I’m talking according to your own position, yours, just from your point of view. So from your point of view there is some common unit of measure by means of which you measure all the sides of this equation. And then you make a decision, because without that you couldn’t make a decision.
[Speaker C] The parameters can change.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, doesn’t matter. But there are such parameters, right? Whether there are many or few, I don’t care. What I’m arguing is that there are such parameters; otherwise you couldn’t make a decision. Now, how do we do this in practice? Can we conceptualize it, formulate it, say exactly how we make the decision? Probably not. Fine, but that’s not the point. But once you need to understand—I think I said this last time too. Let’s step back for a moment. I haven’t yet spoken about the abstract shared measure, right? What is greater—the water in the ocean or the kindness among human beings? So I don’t know how to answer that; there’s no shared measure here, right? Here too intuition says there is no shared measure at all—not even the abstract measure. There’s nothing. You can’t answer such a question; it’s nonsense. Now, in the religious context someone could say: yes, but if there were a verse, then the verse would reveal to me that there is. I don’t know, but the verse would reveal to me that there is more water in the ocean than kindness. Scriptural decree. I’m too small for this; I don’t understand; Scripture has revealed it to me. That won’t help. Why? Because what I’m arguing, when I say there is no answer, is not that I’m not smart enough. If I’m not smart enough, then the Holy One, blessed be He, can help me because He is smarter. So He tells me, reveals to me, what I cannot understand on my own. Here I’m arguing that there is no answer, not that I have no way of reaching the answer. There is no answer; the question is not defined. Therefore the Torah also cannot reveal to me that there is more water in the ocean than kindness in human hearts, because that statement lacks meaning. Even if it were written in the Torah, it would still lack meaning. So here even a scriptural decree won’t help. Therefore the question of the incommensurability of values is a very important question also in the halakhic context, because once you tell me, no, there is a verse that says saving life overrides the Sabbath, that doesn’t help. If you come to the conclusion that saving life and the Sabbath are incommensurable, then even a verse will not decide that dilemma. If you accept the decision of the verse, what you are actually saying is that, independently of the verse, apparently there is some common measure here, that the decision can be made, that there is a way to make such a decision. Okay? Only I don’t know how. So the verse comes and reveals to me that this is the correct decision. But first of all I have to decide that there is in principle some way to make that decision, that it’s a relevant decision. Okay? Now let’s look for a moment at the Talmud in Yoma. Saving life and the Sabbath—that’s the topic in Yoma. Please. Yes, thank you very much. So the Talmud in Yoma here—here, if you see, and if not then you can—whatever… The Talmud says like this: “And it once happened that Rabbi Yishmael and Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah were walking on the road, and Levi the Scribe and Rabbi Yishmael the son of Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah were walking behind them. This question was asked before them: From where do we know that saving life overrides the Sabbath? Rabbi Yishmael answered and said: ‘If the thief is found breaking in’—and if in a case of doubtful money there is doubtful danger to life, and bloodshed defiles the land and causes the Divine Presence…” and he may be saved at the cost of the burglar’s life, then all the more so saving life overrides the Sabbath.” Rabbi Akiva answered and said—each one brings his own source. It continues on the next page, from circumcision, from this. Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya says: “And the children of Israel shall keep the Sabbath”—the Torah said: desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths. Fine? Meaning, why do I desecrate the Sabbath in order to save a life? Because if I save the life, that will enable the person who was saved to observe many Sabbaths. So I paid one Sabbath, but against it I gained many Sabbaths. Rav Yehuda said in the name of Shmuel: Had I been there, I would have said that my source is better than theirs: “And live by them”—and not die by them. You are supposed to live by the commandments of the Torah, not that the commandments of the Torah should cause you to die. Now if because you recoil from desecrating the Sabbath you will die, or someone else will die, then it’s worth nothing to us. You are to live by the commandments of the Torah, not that keeping them should cause you to die. Rava said: There is a refutation for all of them except for Shmuel’s, for his has no refutation. Rava later says what the refutation is: We have found certainty; from where do we know doubt? And for all of them—we have found certainty; from where do we know doubt? All the sources that were brought have a refutation. What is the refutation? That they prove to me that definite saving of life overrides the Sabbath, but doubtful saving of life you cannot learn from them. In contrast, Shmuel, with “and live by them and not die by them,” explains even doubtful cases. Why is not important right now, but that’s what the Talmud assumes, okay? First of all, just a methodological note: even in the wording of the question that was asked—“From where do we know that saving life overrides the Sabbath?”—they do not ask whether saving life overrides the Sabbath, or what the law is when one must desecrate the Sabbath to save a life. That it is clear that one must. The whole question is only what the source is. Meaning, we already knew the law beforehand. Because if so, then I can also understand the refutation. The refutation says: We have found certainty; from where do we know doubt? Fine—so really in cases of doubt you don’t desecrate the Sabbath. What’s the question? Why is that a refutation? You’re saying that according to these sources, definite saving of life overrides the Sabbath, but doubtful saving of life does not. Very good—so let definite saving of life override the Sabbath, and not doubtful? How do you know? If it’s doubtful whether he will die, that won’t override the Sabbath?
[Speaker C] If it’s doubtful whether he’ll die, then you wouldn’t desecrate the Sabbath? You wouldn’t do it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the opposite. Rabbi Shimon Menasya—this source does not permit doubtful cases, the Talmud says. Only Shmuel permits even doubtful cases: “and live by them and not die by them.” The Talmud is basically saying that it is clear to us beforehand not only that definite saving of life overrides the Sabbath; even doubtful saving of life overrides the Sabbath. We knew all this in advance; everything is known. All we are looking for is only a source, right? Therefore it is also known that doubtful saving of life overrides the Sabbath. And if these sources don’t help me see that even doubt overrides the Sabbath, then apparently they are not the right sources. That is why it’s a refutation. Meaning, the whole story is a stacked game—we already know the laws. All we’re looking for is only the source, okay? And Shmuel’s source really does solve the problem. Now, some tradition of some kind—I don’t know—it was clear to them that halakhically this is the case, and they didn’t know from where it came, from where they learned it.
[Speaker C] Maybe the source is too good for them.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe, I don’t know. They didn’t bring this source. Shmuel is an Amora; all the previous ones were Tannaim. Here we have a strange case where an Amora is, as it were, disputing all the Tannaim, and the Talmud basically says he’s more right than they are. Okay? There’s no Tanna like him? It’s not that they bring some Tanna who is… what?
[Speaker C] No, “a Tanna and he disputes.” Rav and Shmuel… only Rav?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Only Rav? Yes. Was Rav greater than Shmuel? It’s not a matter of being greater. Rav was actually in Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi’s court. Rav was really a Tanna. It’s just that retroactively, retrospectively, they looked back and said: fine, we draw the line between Tannaim and Amoraim here, and Rav fell after the line. But in real time he sat in court together with the Tannaim. He spoke with them—so what? But Rav began with Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. Rav was still with Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi in court. Again, Rav was with Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi in court. Rav was still there. And Shmuel wasn’t? Shmuel wasn’t. Shmuel was completely Babylonian. It’s not a matter of being younger; he was in Babylonia. Rav came from the Land of Israel. The Talmud in Sanhedrin says: “My nephew descended to Babylonia.” Rabbi Chiya came to Rabbi, and Rabbi Chiya too was in Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi’s court. He said: “My nephew descended to Babylonia; he may judge, he may judge; he may permit firstborn animals,” right? That’s what the Talmud says there. Rabbi Chiya’s nephew is Rav. He was in the Land of Israel and went down to Babylonia. Okay? So Shmuel was entirely in Babylonia; he’s an Amora, no game there. But Rav moved among the ordained sages, he sat there in the Land of Israel in Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi’s court, and that’s it. Shmuel didn’t. So for our purposes—but by the way, this appears elsewhere too. There is at least one other place I remember where Shmuel goes against the Tannaim and the Talmud says he is right. True, it’s not for practical law, it’s only to provide a source. It’s not that he is disputing the Tannaim in a halakhic ruling, because the discussion here is only what the source is. But still it’s interesting, an unusual phenomenon. In any case, let’s try for a moment to look at the arguments that come up here. Two arguments remain in the end. Actually all the arguments remain in the end. Because the refutation against all the Tannaitic arguments is that they only permit definite saving of life and not doubtful. But as far as definite cases go, these are good sources; it’s just that doubtful cases cannot be learned from them. So it’s not that these sources were rejected—they too remain valid. Okay? But for our purposes, when you look at the halakhic decisors, they bring two sources. One source is Shmuel’s: “and live by them and not die by them.” And the second source is Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya’s: “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.” This source even appears explicitly in the Talmud in Shabbat, page one-hundred-and-something, I don’t remember, regarding saving a baby, I think, or something like that. The Talmud says: “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths.” That is the reasoning it gives for desecrating the Sabbath on behalf of a baby. Okay? So in any case these two reasons are cited or brought as the conclusion of the passage. Let’s try for a moment to look at these two reasons. What is the relationship between them? On the face of it, these are two opposite reasons, completely opposite—disagreeing. You can’t bring both; they contradict each other. Why? Because “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths”—what does that actually mean? It basically means that if you desecrate the Sabbath now, then you’ve lost this Sabbath but gained many future Sabbaths that the person saved will observe. Okay? Whereas if you do not desecrate the Sabbath, then you’ve lost all the future Sabbaths that he could have observed. Okay? So notice: what permitted the desecration of the Sabbath here is not at all the value of life. Right. Right—it’s simply a quantitative consideration. By the way, a quantitative consideration that really is relevant because I’m measuring numbers of Sabbaths. A hundred Sabbaths is more than one Sabbath. If you measure the same thing, then there’s no problem making a quantitative comparison. But if it’s saving life versus the value of the Sabbath, then what difference does it make whether it’s one Sabbath and many lives or the reverse? That’s not relevant—you’re speaking about incommensurable magnitudes. Okay? So what Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya actually did was to measure the two sides of the dilemma on the same scale. What is the scale? Sabbath observances. So if you desecrate the Sabbath now, you gained n minus 1 Sabbaths—Sabbaths he will observe, less the Sabbath you lost now. And if you do not desecrate the Sabbath now, then you gained one Sabbath, and that’s it. So n minus 1 is greater than 1, assuming n is greater than 2. Okay? If you save him for more than two weeks. The Meiri notes this, by the way. The Meiri—yes, the Meiri notes this: is it permitted to save someone whom you know will live only two more days? You save him on the Sabbath, knowing he will live only two more days—you save temporary life. By next Sabbath he won’t observe it. So he says yes. Yes, because we are not really talking here only about Sabbath observance; we are talking about commandments in general. And if he will pray five times during those two days, why only Sabbath observance—what difference does it make? All the commandments are on the scale here, not only Sabbath observance. In any case, for our purposes, Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya basically bypassed the problem of incommensurability. Right? He basically said that I am not measuring here the value of life against the value of Sabbath observance; rather, on both sides of the equation I place Sabbath observances. And now I can compare. Right? Compare how many Sabbath observances I gain or lose, and then there’s no problem deciding. But in value terms, if you ask what is more important—Sabbath observance or life—according to Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya?
[Speaker B] Sabbath observances.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] On the contrary. Ostensibly it seems that even the value of life is only a means to Sabbath observance. Therefore when you measure the Sabbath desecration you do now, you do not measure it against the value of life, because life is a means. It is a means so that he can observe many Sabbaths, and that is the value I measure against the present Sabbath desecration. So it comes out that life serves Sabbath observance. We live in order to fulfill commandments. Life is not the value. In the terms I used earlier, if so, life is not a value. Because what serves something else—the thing served is the value, and the servant is not a value. So according to Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya, life is not a value; life is a means to fulfill commandments. As the Meiri says, any commandment, not specifically Sabbath observance. Okay? Let’s go to Shmuel. What does Shmuel say? “And live by them, and not die by them.” What does that mean?
[Speaker C] That life is more significant.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All the commandments matter so long as they do not threaten life. If observing the commandment will bring about the loss of my life, I do not need to observe the commandment. What is more important? Life. Right? Meaning, if observing the commandments threatens my life, forget it—I do not need to observe commandments; the commandments are set aside. Okay? That’s basically what Shmuel is saying. So it comes out that Shmuel says that life is the important thing—there is a value of life, and not only is there such a value, it is also more important than the value of Sabbath observance. Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya claims that life is not a value at all. Not only is it less important; it is not a value at all—it is a means to fulfill commandments, that’s all. The reason I save your life is only because it enables you to keep commandments. No—there is no value to life in and of itself. To the point that the Or HaChaim actually asks: what about saving the life of someone who does not observe commandments? Do we desecrate the Sabbath for someone who does not observe commandments in order to save his life? After all, you will not gain many Sabbaths; he will not observe commandments. Is it permitted to desecrate the Sabbath for that? He argues that it is not.
[Speaker B] The Or HaChaim argues that it is not.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] About gentiles too they say no, but he argues this even about Jews who do not observe commandments. But that all the halakhic decisors do not accept. Meaning, why? Because you have to provide him with the possibility of observing commandments. If he decides not to observe, that’s his decision, but you are supposed to provide
[Speaker C] him with the possibility of observing commandments. Maybe he’ll also repent, maybe if he returns to…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? He can’t convert. Yes, but if he converts then he’s already someone else, so that’s not interesting. You’re not saving the convert; you’re saving him.
[Speaker B] I didn’t understand—all the decisors specifically accept the first opinion? Which first one? The one about the Sabbaths—that he’s trying specifically…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I said that both appear in the decisors. But I’m saying: when I examine them, then wait—the decisors, when I examine the views themselves, they seem contradictory. No, these are not two reasons; they are contradictory reasons. According to Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya, life is not a value at all; it is a means to keeping commandments. And according to Shmuel, life is the value; the commandments are set aside the moment they threaten life. So how can both reasons be brought together when they contradict each other? You can say neither was rejected, you can adopt this, you can adopt that—you cannot adopt both, because they contradict. And yet if you look in the Biur Halakha on section 328 or—yes—they bring both. Both reasons work. I’ll tell you what’s going on here: they do not contradict. Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya is not saying that life has no value or that life is not a value. He is only saying that once it is a value, there is a problem of incommensurability in it. In Aramaic, incommensurability. So what does that mean? You have the value of life versus the value of the Sabbath. You have no way to measure them against each other and place them on one scale. So how will you make a decision? No—so he says like this: look, I have a brilliant trick. I bypass the problem, bypass the need to measure them on a shared scale. How? Let’s see. We basically have a dilemma between two possibilities. One possibility: desecrate the Sabbath now and save him. Second possibility: don’t desecrate the Sabbath and let him die. Right? Let’s measure the value of each of these two sides of the equation, okay? If I desecrate the Sabbath, then I lost this Sabbath, gained many future Sabbaths—no, I gained many future Sabbaths and I gained the life. Right? So let’s sum it up. What value is attached if I decide yes, to desecrate the Sabbath—to the choice to desecrate the Sabbath? n minus 1A plus B. A is the value of the Sabbath: n minus 1 Sabbaths, plus the value of life, which is B. I have no way of measuring A against B, okay? But I gained both of them: n minus 1A plus B. Okay? If I did not desecrate the Sabbath, what did I gain? A. That’s it, right? One A, one Sabbath. Okay? Now when I compare A to n minus 1A plus B, then n minus 1A plus B is always greater, regardless of B. Right—B is not negative; it’s a value, obviously it’s not negative. So that means I can decide the dilemma even without measuring A against B. After all, what I need to do is measure A against B, right? And I say there is no common measure; I don’t know how to measure them, okay? But it doesn’t matter. Even if A and B are measured in completely independent units, totally incommensurable, I can still decide the problem, because even in terms of A alone there is already an advantage here, and then add B, and certainly that won’t hurt. So notice: the picture is completely different. It’s not that life is not a value. On the contrary, it is fully a value—to the point that it does not serve Sabbath observance, and cannot be measured in any way against Sabbath observance, not at all; it is incommensurable. But Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya managed to bypass the need to find a common measure by noticing that I gain more of both kinds of values here. So there’s no problem: no matter what you put in place of A and B, this side will always be greater than that side. Therefore you don’t need to decide what to put in place of A and B, or what the relationship between A and B is. That is Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya’s brilliance. And if so—and we have to say it this way, because I’m saying it’s because of the problem of incommensurability, yes? But leave that aside. Even if I hadn’t… after all, they contradict. Shmuel says life has value, and Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya says it has no value. If you bring them together, that means you think they do not contradict. Why don’t they contradict? Because Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya also thinks life has value. So how did he decide? He decided by bypassing the need for measurement. He says: leave it, even without measurement I can decide.
[Speaker C] What about a person who doesn’t observe the Sabbath—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] so is there a reason to save him?
[Speaker C] On the contrary. According to the thesis of “desecrate one Sabbath for him”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying: if all we had here was “desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths,” then there would be room for the Or HaChaim’s question—not question, comment. But if I now say no, the value of life is a value entirely independent of commandment observance; only what? I don’t know how to measure it against Sabbath observance. I don’t know how to measure it; it’s incommensurable. So Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya found an indirect route. He says: you don’t need to measure it. Whatever the relationship between A and B may be, I will show you that this is greater than that, that it is preferable to desecrate the Sabbath. Okay? Of course, now you can ask the Or HaChaim’s question: what if he doesn’t observe Sabbaths? Then basically if I desecrated the Sabbath now, I gained his life, but lost—the gain is B minus A. Right? Because the n minus 1 Sabbaths that he will observe—the n Sabbaths he will observe—don’t exist; this is for a secular Jew, right? He doesn’t observe Sabbaths. So you have only minus A because this Sabbath you desecrated now, and the value of life you gained is B. So the value is B minus A. What happens if I do not desecrate the Sabbath? Then nothing happened, right? That’s zero. Now the question is whether B minus A is greater than zero or less than zero. Since A and B are incommensurable, there is no way to know, no way to determine it, right? Therefore there is still room for the Or HaChaim’s comment. But notice, it’s also not certain that we do not desecrate the Sabbath. It’s a problem without a solution; I don’t know how to determine which is greater. And because of that, there is room to say: fine, but since there is also some chance that he will observe Sabbaths, and you also have to provide him with the possibility of observing Sabbaths—what he decides to do with that is what he decides, it doesn’t matter. If so, I say: fine, then desecrate the Sabbath. Because the life you surely gain, and you don’t know whether life or the Sabbath is more important, and besides, maybe you will also gain Sabbath observances. So if you have to decide, I think that is still the more reasonable decision. Okay? But for our purposes, what matters is that Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya is doing a brilliant maneuver here to bypass the need to measure these values against one another, because they have no common measure. So you cannot measure them against one another. Okay?
[Speaker C] So what is going to be the practical answer?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right—essentially there is no answer to what is more important. So what do you do? That’s exactly the point. You know what to do even though we have no answer as to which is more important. That is Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya’s whole idea. The answer is that we desecrate the Sabbath. Even though if you ask me what is more important, the value of life or the value of the Sabbath—I don’t know. And still I desecrate the Sabbath. That is his whole point. Okay? More than that—there are many questions on this Talmud passage if taken simply. What does it mean, “Desecrate one Sabbath for him so that he may keep many Sabbaths”? After all, here you desecrate the Sabbath and there it is Sabbath observance. Right? Is there some point in bringing children into the world so that they should observe the Sabbath? He did not observe the Sabbath and he also did not desecrate it; if he dies then nothing happened, what’s the problem? It’s not that you lost Sabbaths; you didn’t gain Sabbaths. If he dies he won’t observe Sabbaths, but it’s not that he will desecrate them. He just won’t observe Sabbaths. Fine—before he was born he also didn’t observe Sabbaths; after he
[Speaker B] dies he also won’t observe Sabbaths. Fine, so now too he doesn’t observe Sabbaths.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe you could say that he will perform within…
[Speaker B] How does that help? I don’t understand. Am I getting a positive commandment in exchange for a prohibition?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] On the Sabbath there is both a positive commandment and a prohibition.
[Speaker B] Exactly—that’s what I’m saying.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So—what will that help?
[Speaker B] I am committing a prohibition, right?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Both a positive commandment and a prohibition. Desecrating the Sabbath means transgressing both a positive commandment and a prohibition. So in the end, reading this Talmud passage literally is not reasonable. You understand that it is not reasonable to tell me that I’m allowed to desecrate the Sabbath in order to bring someone to repentance. I desecrate the Sabbath in order to bring him to repentance, because if I bring him to repentance he will observe a thousand Sabbaths. Say I have a thirty percent chance of bringing him to repentance times, I don’t know, a thousand Sabbaths he still has left to live—I gained three hundred Sabbaths. Isn’t it worth investing one Sabbath in that? I don’t think there is any decisor who would permit that. To desecrate the Sabbath—why not? Look, you gained many Sabbaths. You are not gaining many Sabbaths. If he—and specifically here you’re even gaining, because he won’t desecrate them, not only that he will observe them. But if the person dies, then he won’t desecrate Sabbaths; he just won’t observe them. Therefore I’m saying: if we understand it the way I explained, then what overrides Sabbath observance is the value of life, not Sabbath observance. The value of life stands on the other side of the equation. Only what? I don’t know how to measure A against B. I don’t know whether Sabbath observance is more or less than the value of life. So I say, fine, the value of life stands against the Sabbath desecration I committed now, and besides that there are many more future Sabbath observances expected. Those two together already tilt the scale. Okay. But those are truly Sabbath observances, not Sabbath desecrations. Therefore if that stood there by itself, without the value of life, I don’t think anyone would say: desecrate one Sabbath so that someone else may observe many future Sabbaths. That is not a reason. Okay? But here the value of life is also on the other side of the equation. You desecrate the Sabbath in order to save life, but together with the life—because after all you don’t know how to measure Sabbath observance against the value of life—I add many more Sabbaths that he will observe. So that already tilts the scale. Okay. But if that stood there alone, then I don’t think anyone would really permit such a thing. And that is another indication that the value of life is also part of this picture. It’s not that we ignored the value of life. The value of life is on one side of the scale, and together with it the n minus 1 Sabbaths that I am going to gain.
[Speaker C] To desecrate the Sabbath so that he’ll repent, so that he’ll repent, to desecrate the Sabbath so that he’ll bring him to repentance—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] and then he’ll observe many Sabbaths?
[Speaker C] Yes, that’s a good question.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. So the—yes. So what I basically want to say is that precisely because of the problem of incommensurability, Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya had to measure the two options between which he was wavering—whether to desecrate the Sabbath or not—entirely in terms of Sabbath observances, because otherwise you have no way to measure A against B. So you measure A against A. How many As do you have on both sides, because you don’t know how to insert B into the equation. But B is there. It is clear that B is there too; it’s just that you don’t know how to weigh it against A. Ah, now I remembered what I wanted to say. People often come with complaints: how can it be that Jewish law does not permit desecrating the Sabbath in order to save the life of a gentile? A gentile—what, not a human being? Meaning, how can that be? Lots of moral criticisms like that against Jewish law. Yes, how can that be? Now if you look at Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya, then you see that no—even Jewish law does not permit desecrating the Sabbath in order to save a Jew. It is not because of the value of life that you are permitted to desecrate the Sabbath, but because he will observe many Sabbaths. Meaning, even a Jewish life is not worth as much as Sabbath observance. Therefore that critical argument against Jewish law can, all in all, be answered fairly easily. You may not accept the value system, but don’t think that I distinguish between gentile and Jew. There is no distinction. The value of both their lives is the same, and it does not override Sabbath desecration. It’s just that in the case of a Jew there are future Sabbath observances, and in the case of a gentile there are not. So what actually permits the Sabbath desecration is the future Sabbath observances, not the value of life. Even for a Jew it is not the value of life. So don’t tell me that Jewish law gives favoritism to Jews, that Jewish lives are worth more than a gentile’s. No, that’s not true. But what I just said is not true. It’s a good excuse for apologetics, but it is not true. Because as I said earlier, the value of life is indeed in the equation. And life alone may also override the Sabbath. Or maybe not. At least it is balanced; I don’t know. Okay? Therefore the question really does arise: then why not for a gentile? First of all, for a gentile it is A versus B, and I don’t have the n minus 1A added to B because he will not observe Sabbaths. He is not obligated to observe Sabbaths, so that does not enter the calculation. But beyond that, I actually think that one should also desecrate the Sabbath in order to save the life of a gentile.
[Speaker B] But the ruling…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The ruling today is because of technical matters. Because of concern that Jews will not be saved, or hatred, persecution of Jews, our hand is not strong, desecration of God’s name, things of that sort. Therefore also…
[Speaker B] So these are just excuses by the sages?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s an interesting question. There was once an article in Hakdamot. That was a journal of Beit Morasha in Jerusalem. It used to exist. So someone there wrote that the Hatam Sofer, who permitted even Torah-level labors in order to save the life of a non-Jew, really meant the moral claim. He used suspicion and hatred, because of enmity and desecration of God’s name and so on, but really those were just tools to advance his moral agenda, not the argument… I don’t… I don’t buy that. Meaning, those arguments have to stand on their own. It’s not… okay, what triggers me to think—there you’re right—but that’s not the point. In the end, the justification is the justification I found. If it holds water, good, and if not, then not. It reminds me of—there used to be here at Bar-Ilan Professor Yitzhak Gilat, who dealt with the study of the development of Jewish law and so on, in the Talmud department, I think. He was one of the founders of the institute. And he wrote some book—I’m talking about around forty years ago—he wrote a book called Chapters in the Development of Jewish Law. And when that book came out, there was an international uproar in the world. Heresy, terrible and awful things. Why? Because he said there that Jewish law develops and responds to its environment and circumstances and so on. I was in Bnei Brak then; the world was in an uproar. He had been a yeshiva student in Hebron and later became a professor of Talmud at Bar-Ilan and so on. Look what comes out of these academics in the end. So of course, as soon as those wars started, I bought the book, because I understood there must be something interesting in it. And when I read the book, I discovered there was neither bear nor forest. That’s not what he wrote at all. For example, in one of the chapters—all the chapters are like this—but in one chapter, for example, he talks about the Sabbatical year in our times being rabbinic. So he says that in earlier generations they didn’t distinguish between the Sabbatical year in our times and the Sabbatical year not in our times. The Sabbatical year was always Torah-level. Right.
[Speaker C] And after the destruction of the Temple—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] economic problems arose and all kinds of things like that, and they had to be lenient in the laws of the Sabbatical year. And therefore they established that the Sabbatical year in our times is rabbinic. And over that came all the attacks: what do you mean, the Sabbatical year in our times being rabbinic is Jewish law, it has nothing to do with circumstances and influences and pressures and things of that sort. Only if you read carefully what he wrote, he didn’t write that. He did not write that because they wanted to be lenient, they therefore decided that the Sabbatical year in our times is rabbinic. What he wrote was exactly what you said. Because there was pressure, they really got into it and started looking. And after they looked, they found a rationale, a source, whatever, a meaningful basis from which it follows that the Sabbatical year in our times is rabbinic. If there hadn’t been pressure, they wouldn’t have gone looking. The pressure was the trigger for why they went looking, but not that they permitted it because of the pressure. They permitted it because they truly found a good halakhic reason to permit it. Without that, you don’t permit. I once wrote a series of columns on Modern Orthodox, on modern Orthodoxy. So I said there: what’s the difference between Modern Orthodox and Reform? A Reform Jew changes Jewish law because of the pressure. The moment you have pressure, you change Jewish law because you say: this can’t be, it’s unreasonable—sometimes moral pressure, sometimes practical pressure, doesn’t matter right now. A Modern Orthodox person also changes Jewish law in response to pressure. But the pressure is supposed to be a trigger that causes him to look for internal halakhic mechanisms that will allow him to change. But in the end, he bases the change on halakhic considerations, not on the pressure. The pressure cannot be an argument in favor of the change. The pressure can be a trigger to look for arguments. Okay? And that is basically the difference between Modern Orthodox and Reform, because for the Reform Jew the pressure itself is the argument for permitting. And for the Modern Orthodox person, the pressure is the trigger that causes me to look for arguments. And this happens every day: halakhic decisors sit, a question comes to them, they see that a woman is in distress, a person is in distress, whatever, and they start looking for reasons how one can be lenient. But if they don’t find reasons that hold water, they can’t be lenient. And if you don’t find a reason that permits the agunah, you won’t permit her. The fact that she is in terrible distress, fine—but the distress makes me look for reasons. But in the end, whether she is permitted depends on whether I actually found reasons. The Reform person would permit her because of the distress. And the distress itself would be the argument for the permission. That’s the difference.
[Speaker C] Shemirat Shabbat Kehilkhatah by Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach—doesn’t that basically adapt Jewish law, practical Sabbath observance, to our situation? Okay. And here there’s cooking—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There and here, he applies it. He isn’t specifically lenient or specifically stringent; rather, he applies it to the circumstances that prevail among us. Fine, so what? I’m talking about someone who finds some leniency because the circumstances require leniency. And if he’s Reform, then the circumstances are the reason to be lenient. And if he’s Modern Orthodox, he also changes—someone who isn’t Modern Orthodox simply won’t change. The Modern Orthodox person will change, like the Reform person. But—but—the change will be based on a halakhic consideration. And the reason I looked for and found halakhic considerations—the trigger—was like the Reform person. But that’s only a trigger for searching. In the end, the consideration itself is what determines. And that’s a very big difference. Because very often, when you propose—I know, in my own case, yes—when I propose some novel halakhic consideration, they accuse me of being Reform. Because anyone who makes a halakhic change is Reform. And unless you get into the definitions of how halakhic changes are constructed and what can justify them and what cannot justify them, you can’t determine who is Reform and who isn’t. When you see that in the end there are halakhic arguments, you can tell me you don’t agree with them, but I am raising halakhic arguments. The moment I raise halakhic arguments, I am not Reform. You may disagree with them, no problem; there are disputes within Jewish law. Reform is someone who changes without halakhic arguments. That’s the whole idea. If you change with halakhic arguments, then—
[Speaker C] then you can argue, like—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] like any halakhic dispute, but it has nothing to do with Reform. And just now I wrote on my website some column—there’s a Jew named Rabbi Polisuk, who is openly gay, and he wrote an article about why it’s important to marry same-sex couples and create a Torah-based ceremony for them at their wedding and so on. So he raises halakhic arguments and sources and this and that, “it is not good for man to be alone,” something like that. So I wrote a response article saying that I don’t agree with his arguments, but I prefaced it by saying that his arguments are completely Orthodox. He is Orthodox. He studied at Gush, if I’m not mistaken, or at Merkaz, I don’t remember where he studied. In any case, he’s completely Orthodox. He raises halakhic arguments. So what if I don’t agree with him? There are halakhic disputes; that’s not the issue. Reform is someone who would perform such marriages because gay people are in distress. And if they’re in distress, then we need to marry them. That’s Reform. But someone who says: gay people are in distress, so let’s see, let’s search whether there are considerations that allow me to do this—and he found his considerations, which I don’t agree with, doesn’t matter, but he based himself on considerations—in that sense it isn’t correct to define him as Reform.
[Speaker C] You take a consideration and turn it into what you need?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not turn it into it. I’m saying the consideration has to hold water. The consideration is a good one. The fact that I found it is because I had a trigger, an impetus, that made me look. Okay? I had motivation to search. Others don’t have motivation to search, so they don’t find. And the conservatives don’t find the arguments he found not because they disagree with them, but because they didn’t look at all. Because the distress doesn’t bother them; as far as they’re concerned, Jewish law is what’s written, period.
[Speaker C] And you’re saying that in that sense you can do this?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is that I don’t agree with him as a halakhic dispute, but still, the dispute is within the bounds of Jewish law. Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai also disagreed, Rav and Shmuel also disagreed, Abaye and Rava also disagreed. So what? If I disagree with someone, does that make him Reform? No. I don’t agree with him, and he does agree with himself.
[Speaker C] Fair enough. Why don’t you agree with him?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because it’s an erroneous argument and a legitimate one. In my view it’s wrong; it’s legitimate. What, if someone interprets a certain halakhic source differently from me, then he’s Reform?
[Speaker C] This argument I had with him—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In my latest column on my website, in the column that is a response to his, today I uploaded my response to his response. In the latest column, look at my website—
[Speaker C] In your latest column?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The website—you know my website? It says Responsa and Articles; type “Responsa and Articles” into Google. “Responsa and Articles,” type it into Google, that’s my website. The latest column you’ll see, the first one you’ll see because it was uploaded last, that’s it. Okay, anyway, how did we get to all this? Ah yes—saving a non-Jew on the Sabbath. I started with saving a non-Jew on the Sabbath. So the claim—the claim I make—is that it is permitted to save a non-Jew on the Sabbath because the prohibition against desecrating the Sabbath in order to save the life of a non-Jew was stated about non-Jews who behave immorally, inhumanly, and so on. But the non-Jews of our time, on average at least, behave in a completely reasonable way, just like Jews; I don’t see any difference. Therefore the prohibition that was stated about desecrating the Sabbath to save their lives does not exist with respect to the non-Jews of today. This follows the Meiri. There is a Meiri who writes in many, many places this consideration: that these prohibitions apply to non-Jews who were not bound by the norms of the nations, but the non-Jews in his own time—the 14th century in Provence—were non-Jews who were bound by the norms of the nations, and therefore he cancels all the laws, Torah-level and rabbinic, with regard to non-Jews. Except for what? More than that: the Meiri in Yoma, on this passage, writes this even about desecrating the Sabbath to save their lives. He writes that too, and he says that when the Torah prohibited desecrating the Sabbath in order to save the life of a non-Jew, it was talking about the non-Jews of old, who were not bound by the norms of the nations, whereas for the non-Jews of today one does desecrate the Sabbath to save them. A rationale? Yes, rationale is also good. Rational reasoning plays a role in Jewish law. Because if you were to say, look, it can’t be that we don’t save the life of a non-Jew, that’s impossible, unthinkable—then you’re Reform. If you say, look, the reasoning suggests—and I know there has been a change in the behavior of non-Jews from then until now—so I attribute it to that change. Now someone can come and say: I don’t agree with your reasoning. Fine. But if I’m basing myself on reasoning, that’s a legitimate halakhic consideration. In many places people make distinctions like these on the basis of reasoning.
[Speaker C] There’s some little homiletic saying about non-Jews—that they were created to serve the Jewish people.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What a great secret you’ve just revealed to us, I don’t…
[Speaker C] And therefore what? You say it every day when you drink a cup of tea or a cup of water. The final blessing: “Who creates many living beings and their needs, for all that You created to sustain by them every living soul.” Right? “Living beings” means living beings…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re about to get yourself into pilpul here; you’d better not get tangled up with me. You’re about to get into pilpul that will be worse than what you’re trying to explain. Not pilpul. You want to base this on your interpretation of the blessing, but your interpretation of the blessing is shakier than what you’re trying to support with it, so what do you gain? What does this blessing have to do with anything?
[Speaker C] Why does it say—you start with “living beings” in the plural and end with “soul” in the singular?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Who creates many living beings and their needs, for all that You created to sustain by them every living soul, blessed is the Life of the worlds.” What’s the problem?
[Speaker C] You start with souls in the plural and end with soul in the singular.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Who creates many living beings,” “every living soul.” “Every living soul” also means souls; it’s just another way of saying souls.
[Speaker C] Souls of every living being—why do you say soul?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But “the soul of every living being” is perfectly fine Hebrew. You’re insisting on it just to force your little homiletic reading. This is not the path by which your glory will come.
[Speaker C] “Many souls” is Esau, because it says “the souls of his household”; it says so in the Torah.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what does it say? From here that everywhere it says “souls” it means Esau?
[Speaker C] Yes, because with Israel, everywhere it says with Jacob “the soul of his household,” “your fathers went down to Egypt, seventy souls.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Leave me alone with these Hasidim, do me a favor. Really, according to your rebbe this isn’t bad; at the next kiddush in synagogue you’ll have a nice little homily to say, that’s fine. But Jewish law—don’t build Jewish law on that.
[Speaker C] What is there to refute in that?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s nothing here. I haven’t seen anything.
[Speaker C] These are
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] little homilies.
[Speaker C] You’re making verbal analogies from “souls” and “soul.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not verbal analogies.
[Speaker C] I can explain—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I can give you a hundred other explanations that would explain it. There’s nothing to explain here at all, but even if you wanted to explain it, I could suggest a hundred other explanations. “You end with soul, you continue with souls”—where did you get that from?
[Speaker C] Do you have examples?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, here?
[Speaker C] Do you have—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] examples where it starts with “souls” and never ends with “soul,” or vice versa? Did you do statistics, did you check? Sometimes “souls” and “every living soul” is just like “souls,” saying it in a different way. “Every living soul,” the soul of every living being. When you say “the soul of every living being,” “soul” is in the singular. The soul of every living being—you understand that that means all the souls in the world, no? It’s the same thing. What’s the difference between saying
[Speaker C] every living soul?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Every living soul” is plural, no?
[Speaker C] What do you say about “You are called man, and idol worshipers are not called man”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “Man” is not “soul”; those are two different things. And besides, even that Talmudic passage can be discussed at length. In the Talmud itself it isn’t so simple; there are contradictions between passages, it’s a complicated story. But here we’re not talking about “man,” we’re talking about “soul.” And it has nothing to do with non-Jews; nothing here has anything to do with non-Jews. Okay, in any event, as far as our issue goes, say that little homily if you want—you can still say it. Little homilies don’t need approval. With little homilies you can say whatever you want. And it doesn’t have to be true; on the contrary, better if it isn’t true. People enjoy untrue little homilies much more. True little homilies anyone can say—that’s no great feat. My father once said—I don’t know why he decided this—that Ilanit wasn’t a good singer.
[Speaker C] Who’s that?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] My father. That Ilanit wasn’t a good singer, the singer Ilanit. He decided she had no voice; I don’t know why Ilanit specifically. To be a singer with a bad voice—that’s the real genius. Got it? So if you want little homilies, say incorrect little homilies. It’s no great wisdom to say correct little homilies; I can do that too, and also—
[Speaker C] so that each side can build its own intimacy.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay. In any case, I see that we’re not—we’re not going to get into the next stage. I want to—wait, yes, okay, let’s stop here. We’ll start the next chapter already. Incommensurability, simply—
[Speaker C] you come at us with these words.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Incommensurability—that’s just the term people use, I didn’t invent it. That’s what this topic is called in philosophy: incommensurability.