חדש באתר: עוזר בינה מלאכותית המבוסס על כתביו ושיעוריו של הרב מיכאל אברהם

Michtav MeEliyahu, Lesson 1

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

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

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • The connection to the study of free choice and the status of Mikhtav MeEliyahu
  • Formulating the question of choice: pleasure as the basis for choosing good and evil
  • The three layers: the very existence of choice, effort versus inclination, and evaluating good versus evil
  • Intention versus result: Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda and the hidden assumptions in Rabbi Dessler’s question
  • A critical reading of Jewish thought and the distinction between a claim and a definition
  • Rabbi Dessler’s principle: “There is no pleasure except in the filling of a lack,” and its extension to spirituality
  • Spiritual lack is greater than physical lack: sayings of the Sages and the conception of the soul
  • The infinity of spirituality versus the limits of physicality and the fantasies of the evil inclination
  • The Talmudic proof in Nedarim: “Stolen waters are sweet,” and Tosafot on a person’s awareness
  • Rabbi Dessler’s conclusion: the secret of pleasure is overcoming obstacles, and therefore the choice of holiness

Summary

General Overview

The text presents a lecture on free choice through a passage from Mikhtav MeEliyahu by Rabbi Dessler, clarifying the assumption that people choose good or evil because it gives them pleasure. The lecture places Rabbi Dessler’s question at the level where we already assume there is choice, and then ask why we value the person who chooses good more than the one who chooses evil if both are acting for the sake of their own pleasure. Rabbi Dessler’s answer is then presented: pleasure is always the filling of a lack, and spiritual lack is infinitely greater than physical lack. Therefore, if a person understood that pleasure comes from overcoming obstacles and not from the prohibition itself, he would choose holiness and not sin. Throughout the reading, the lecturer repeatedly pauses for conceptual critique of the assumptions, of whether they are claims or definitions, and of how well grounded they are.

The connection to the study of free choice and the status of Mikhtav MeEliyahu

The speaker says they touched on matters of free choice last year, but now they are approaching it from a different angle. He introduces Rabbi Dessler, who worked in Gateshead and later in Ponevezh as a spiritual supervisor. The speaker defines Mikhtav MeEliyahu as one of the foundational and prominent books of Jewish thought in the second half of the twentieth century in the Haredi camp, and justifies reading it as part of engaging with Jewish thought. He notes that Pachad Yitzchak is “Haredi, obviously Haredi.”

Formulating the question of choice: pleasure as the basis for choosing good and evil

Rabbi Dessler is quoted as writing that people choose different paths: some tend to choose the ways of pleasantness and goodness, pursue peace, and aspire to fulfill commandments, while others tend to choose the ways of pride, domination, and pursuit of desires. The speaker explains that “domination” here means forcefulness and pursuit of desires, and sharpens the point that the focus here is choice in character traits, though there is also a plane of choice in opinions and worldview. The speaker adds that a common claim is that everyone chooses his path because of the pleasure he gets from it, and applies this also to worldviews through the example of Marx, who said religion is the opium of the masses, giving calm in a turbulent world.

The three layers: the very existence of choice, effort versus inclination, and evaluating good versus evil

The speaker distinguishes between a first question—whether there is any choice at all if a person is driven by pleasure and nature; a second question—about the difference between someone inclined to evil who chooses good and someone inclined to good who chooses good; and a third question, which is Rabbi Dessler’s question: why do we value the one who chooses good more than the one who chooses evil if both choose for the sake of their pleasure? The speaker says that last year he dealt with the distinction between a case where nature influences an action and a case where nature determines an action, and therefore the fact that it feels good to do good does not cancel choice. He raises the possibility of a complex evaluation, where someone who fights against an evil nature deserves credit for effort, but someone whose nature is good may also be seen as essentially good. He parallels this to the “intermediate person” and the righteous person in Tanya, and to the question whether the righteous person has choice or whether the struggle is simply easier.

Intention versus result: Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda and the hidden assumptions in Rabbi Dessler’s question

The speaker argues that Rabbi Dessler’s question assumes that a person is evaluated according to the path and intention, not according to the result. If evaluation were based on the result, the question would not arise at all. The speaker brings an example from the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda regarding their attitude to the deeds of the Romans, and describes a connection that has been made between Rabbi Shimon’s focus on intention and his exemption in the case of an unintended act, and Rabbi Yehuda’s focus on result and his liability for an unintended act. The speaker suggests that one can value self-sacrifice for ideals even when the ideals themselves are problematic, and gives the example of a suicide bomber and the attribution to Ehud Barak that had he been born in the same situation, he too would have been a suicide bomber—arguing that moral evaluation can remain complex and need not be reduced to a single line.

A critical reading of Jewish thought and the distinction between a claim and a definition

The speaker declares that he wants to read texts critically and examine assumptions, proofs, and meaning, and notes that in Jewish thought the concepts and claims are not always defined or grounded as they are in philosophy. He distinguishes between prose, which is meant to carry linear meaning, and poetry, whose purpose is to create a mood and an effect not directly derived from the words. He raises the possibility that someone might claim that even a text of thought is read almost like poetry, but says that this is not what students of Jewish thought expect. He emphasizes that even if the text was originally spoken aloud and is therefore less precise in wording, it still ought to stand as an argument with assumptions and a conclusion.

Rabbi Dessler’s principle: “There is no pleasure except in the filling of a lack,” and its extension to spirituality

Rabbi Dessler states that there is no pleasure except in the filling of a lack; that a person is, for most moments of life, in a state of lack and constantly seeks to fill what he lacks; and that the more obstacles there are, the more the lack is felt, and therefore the greater the pleasure when the lack is filled. The speaker challenges how well grounded this claim is and raises examples such as a person who never ate chocolate and suddenly tastes it, and pleasure from contemplating “the half-full cup,” as well as a dispute over the statement “constant pleasure is not pleasure.” Rabbi Dessler adds that spiritual pleasure also comes from filling a lack, and the speaker is especially doubtful about this extension, raising the example of pleasure from beauty and from a beautiful structure.

Spiritual lack is greater than physical lack: sayings of the Sages and the conception of the soul

Rabbi Dessler says that a person lacks spirituality far more than he lacks physicality, and cites the words of the Sages that the soul has 613 limbs and corresponding to them are the 613 commandments that affect their vitality—see Sha’arei Kedushah, and so on. Rabbi Dessler brings the passage from Bava Kamma, “They went three days in the wilderness and found no water,” and interprets it as “water means nothing but Torah,” from which came the enactment of Torah reading on Monday and Thursday so that there not be three days without Torah, using the image of a soul growing weary with thirst when there is no Torah. Rabbi Dessler adds that one who goes without commandments and good deeds, Heaven forbid, removes vitality from his soul and becomes spiritually sick and blemished. The speaker hesitates whether this is a psychological claim or a value judgment, and raises a difficulty in comparing it to urgent physical lacks like sleep.

The infinity of spirituality versus the limits of physicality and the fantasies of the evil inclination

Rabbi Dessler argues that spiritual pleasure is immeasurably deeper than physical pleasure, just as physical lack is tiny compared to spiritual lack, because the physical is limited—even if it is often artificially magnified by the fantasies of the evil inclination, as explained later—whereas spiritual lack is without limit, just as there is no end or limit to spiritual heights. The speaker points to a possible shift from claim to definition, and asks why the multiplicity of spiritual levels necessarily implies that spiritual lack is greater. He gives examples involving money and the saying “one who has one hundred wants two hundred” to show that even in the physical realm there is striving that is never satisfied with a little. He emphasizes that it is difficult to measure and compare spiritual well-being and physical well-being, and raises discussion of material abundance accompanied by depression, versus severe physical deprivation that also makes spirituality difficult.

The Talmudic proof in Nedarim: “Stolen waters are sweet,” and Tosafot on a person’s awareness

Rabbi Dessler brings a Talmudic text at the end of tractate Nedarim: if a man suspected of adultery saved the husband from mortal danger, the wife is permitted to her husband, because if he had committed adultery he would have wanted the husband to die and would not have saved him. The Talmud asks: isn’t this obvious? And answers that we might have thought he saved him in order to increase the taste of the sin, as it is written, “Stolen waters are sweet.” The speaker raises the question why we should not simply say that he saved him out of a desire to save a life that overpowered his lust. Rabbi Dessler quotes Tosafot, who explain: “It teaches us that the adulterer does not know this, and he prefers that the husband die so that he can marry her openly,” and the speaker asks how we know that he did not know, and comments that other explanations are also possible, such as the risk of being caught.

Rabbi Dessler’s conclusion: the secret of pleasure is overcoming obstacles, and therefore the choice of holiness

Rabbi Dessler explains that this is a hidden secret from people: the essence of their pleasure is not in the thing itself but in overcoming the difficulties that stand in the way of attaining it, and therefore a person does not know this and does not consciously aim at it in his choices. Rabbi Dessler states that if a person knew this truth, he would not choose anything forbidden and would not strive for physicality, because the same pleasure can be attained by overcoming the difficulties that hold back attainment of something holy. Rabbi Dessler adds that there the pleasure would be even greater, because in spirituality the lacks and the possibilities for filling them are immeasurably greater, as explained above. The speaker concludes that the discussion of the question mark implicit in this conclusion will continue next time.

Full Transcript

[Speaker A] Last year we touched quite a bit on matters of free choice, but here it’s not the same issues, not the issues we spoke about. It’s connected, of course, but from a different angle. This is a passage from Mikhtav MeEliyahu by Rabbi Dessler. Rabbi Dessler worked in Gateshead in England and later in Ponevezh. Originally he was from Lithuania, but afterward in England and in Ponevezh he was a spiritual supervisor. And Mikhtav MeEliyahu is considered one of the foundational books of Jewish thought of the second half of the twentieth century, certainly in the Haredi camp. In the Haredi camp there really aren’t that many basic books of Jewish thought, and I think this is definitely one of the most prominent among them, maybe the most prominent. And since now we’re dealing a bit with matters of Jewish thought, I thought passages from Mikhtav MeEliyahu are certainly worthy of reading and getting to know.

[Speaker B] Do you count Pachad Yitzchak as Haredi? What? Pachad Yitzchak?

[Speaker A] Yes, Haredi, obviously it’s Haredi. Okay, so he’s really dealing with—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He deals with free choice, and he writes as follows: “People choose different paths. There are those who tend to choose the paths of pleasantness and goodness, pursuing peace and aspiring to fulfill commandments, and there are those who tend to choose the paths of pride and domination and pursuit of desires.” “Domination” here means forcefulness and pursuit of desires. There are those who claim that each person chooses his path because of the pleasure he derives from it. Here we are, of course, talking about choice. There are several planes on which a person chooses. There is the plane of opinions, where a person chooses a certain worldview, a certain belief, and here there is choice in character traits. Here, in this case, it seems to me the focus is on choice in character traits. “Aspiring to fulfill commandments” may also touch on worldview. In any case, he says each person chooses his path because of the pleasure he gets from it. That too is something worth discussing a bit—whether pleasure is indeed a very common claim, or at least a very common intuition, that a person chooses a certain path because it brings him some kind of pleasure or some kind of benefit. And the question is whether that’s true, or whether this feeling exists only regarding the choice of certain traits or a certain mode of behavior, or also regarding worldviews. Because even regarding worldviews, there may be those who say a person chooses them because they are convenient, useful. Marx, for example, said that choosing a religious worldview is opium for the masses—that is, it gives, let’s call it, some sort of serenity or calm in the stormy world we live in. We know that we are in great and good hands that are always taking care of us and making sure that what needs to happen will happen, and that is very calming. So that too is a certain kind of argument that applies the intuition he describes here to choices of worldview, not to choices of character trait or a particular mode of behavior. So in practice I think this intuition can be applied on both those planes. And if so, the question arises: what advantage does the person who chooses good have over his fellow who chooses the opposite? After all, both of them choose for the sake of their own pleasure. Yes, that’s a very common question. I’ve been asked it many times: why do we see the one who chooses good as a more elevated person? It’s simply a person for whom doing good causes pleasure, and he strives for pleasure just like anyone else strives for pleasure. It just happens that he’s built in such a way that what brings him pleasure is doing good. I spoke about this a bit last year when I said that—

[Speaker E] Rabbi Amnon Yitzchak’s sheep? What? Rabbi Amnon Yitzchak’s sheep? Does it choose good?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, right, it doesn’t choose good at all, it—

[Speaker E] Behaves well without choice.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. I already said about that argument, when I spoke there about the difference between impulses and choice, or going after impulses versus going after what I choose, I think we spoke about the book of Tanya, right? We even read it, maybe this year we read it, I don’t remember. A chapter from Tanya that talks about the animal soul and the divine soul, and there I said that the animal soul—the impulses—include both the good inclination and the evil inclination. It’s not equivalent to a war between good and evil. On the plane of impulse there is good and evil, and on the plane of choice there is also good and evil. A person has impulses to do good, not only an evil inclination. First of all, it feels good to do good. A person is pushed to do good not only because of the ideal that it is good, but simply because it feels good to be a good person. That’s just how it is. Maybe it’s good that that’s how it is, but that is the fact. And therefore, that is basically what he is saying here: if the person who chooses good also does it in order to derive some pleasure from it, just like the person who chooses evil or anything else, then what advantage does the one who chooses good have over the one who chooses evil? The truth is that before starting to get into his answer, the question itself deserves some discussion. I think it’s not trivial. Because let’s say even if he is right, that a person who chooses good does so simply because good gives him pleasure, and a person who chooses evil does so because evil gives him pleasure, then the difference between them is a difference in personality structure. Does that necessarily mean there is no advantage to the one who chooses good over the one who chooses evil? In other words, the fact that he derives pleasure from this and the other derives pleasure from that—can that not be a basis for saying that this is a good person and that is a bad person?

[Speaker F] Advantage in what sense? The discussion isn’t whether he has pleasure or not, but whether he chooses—whether there is an element of choice.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, but then that is indeed a slightly differently formulated question, you’re right. If you formulate it that way, then I wouldn’t even ask why choosing good is better than choosing evil. What I would ask is: basically, someone who chooses good doesn’t really choose, just as someone who chooses evil doesn’t really choose, and therefore no human action has any value—not that choosing good has the same value as choosing evil. But from the way the question is formulated, as he presents it, it doesn’t seem that this is what bothers him. And therefore I’m saying: this is not really what we spoke about last year. Last year I spoke about the question whether, if the desire to derive pleasure is what causes me to do my actions, then in what sense do I choose them? In the end I am driven to them because my nature takes me there. So there I said there is a difference between a situation in which my nature influences what I do and a situation in which my nature determines what I do. Those are not the same thing. In other words, it may feel good to me to do good, but clearly I also have the possibility of not doing good. In this case I choose to go with what feels good to me, and maybe I do it because it really is good, not only because of the pleasure. So the fact that it feels good to me to do good does not necessarily mean I am not choosing. That’s a different question. And therefore Rabbi Dessler is not speaking on that plane. That is, he is not asking the question: who says we choose at all? Because then he wouldn’t have needed, as I said before, to make the comparison between choosing good and choosing evil. He would simply have had to say: fine, no human action has any meaning, because whether a person does good or does evil, he is not choosing it.

[Speaker G] Excuse me, there’s also the fact that the one who chooses evil—maybe it is harder for him to choose good because his inclination is toward evil, but he still has free choice to go and choose good anyway. Choice is harder for the one whose nature is to go toward evil and easier for the one who enjoys good.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but then—

[Speaker G] You’re talking about someone—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But he is comparing the one who chooses evil to the one who chooses good. You are comparing a person who has an evil nature and does good, to a person who has a good nature and does good.

[Speaker H] Fine, because that was the question: basically there is no choice, because each person acts according to his nature.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, obviously. About that I said I don’t think you can necessarily conclude from here that there is no choice, because there is a difference between a situation where my character influences what I do and a situation where my character determines what I do. That’s what I said before. So now I’m saying: if that’s the case, then let’s assume for the sake of discussion that a person does have choice, whether toward good or toward evil. Now there is another question, say, the one you raise here—and that is whether a person inclined to evil who chooses good is preferable to a person inclined to good who chooses good. Right? An interesting question in its own right, not so simple. In chapter six Maimonides—

[Speaker I] I didn’t understand that at all. That’s not really about choice.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? No, I’m saying on the assumption that it is—

[Speaker I] It’s just not interesting. Why? Because if a person is born tending to good or tending to evil, what influence does he have over that?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the opposite. I’m saying now I’m already assuming he has choice. The inclination I’m born with does not determine what I do. Maybe it influences, but what—

[Speaker I] What’s the relevance of clarifying whether this—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but if there is a person with an evil nature who chooses good, and a person with a good nature who chooses good, they both—

[Speaker I] Choose. Who made more effort? By what measure are you measuring?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, that’s the way to start formulating the answer, but first of all the question. The question on the second plane. That is, the first question is whether we have choice at all, because if everything is done only because I derive pleasure from it, then maybe there is room to say I have no choice at all—I am simply driven to do things by my nature. That’s what we discussed last year. We are currently assuming a person has choice. That doesn’t mean, of course, that he has no nature that he was born with. That nature influences him but does not determine what he will do; he still has the possibility to choose. From here grows the question on the second plane, what Ezra asked earlier: if I choose, is there a difference between someone with an evil nature who chooses good and a person with a good nature who chooses good? There is room to discuss that. On the one hand, I think that indeed the way to deal with it, as with many things—and this is not Rabbi Dessler’s question, so I’m still at the stage of analyzing the question—is to relate to things in a complex way, I think. In other words, there is a certain aspect in which someone with an evil nature who chooses good is more elevated than someone with a good nature: he invests more effort, he is acting against his nature, and certainly deserves more appreciation. On the other hand, maybe there is room to appreciate someone who also has a good nature as a person who is good in essence. The other one, in essence, is still not good, even though he succeeds in overcoming himself and doing what is good. From one aspect that is better, and maybe there are those who would say that from another aspect specifically the second is better. And you don’t always have to arrive at a bottom line. Many times when we evaluate something—just a few days ago someone commented to me about, I don’t remember what the example was, some situation where a person believes in something and really sacrifices himself to uphold that thing, even though in my eyes that thing is evil. How do I evaluate such a person? If we’re talking about a moral catastrophe, of course even more so—yes, you can get all the way to Hitler, but never mind. A suicide bomber—Ehud Barak said that if I had been born in that same situation, then I too would have been a suicide bomber, and everyone got all outraged. What is there to be outraged about? I think he said something very simple there. He didn’t say suicide bomber. Never mind, never mind. In any case, let’s talk about a suicide bomber for the sake of the discussion. I’m saying: our evaluation of a person does not have to fit into one line. It can also be a complex evaluation. I can appreciate a person for showing self-sacrifice to the values he believes in; there is something to appreciate there. If those values are problematic, I will condemn him for his values being problematic. Those two things do not necessarily have to somehow be summed up into one bottom line, unless I’m supposed to judge him or do something with that judgment, and not just state some academic position about him. Fine. But on the principled level, a complex judgment is certainly possible, and in this matter too it seems to me there is definitely room for a complex judgment: to say that if a person with a bad nature chooses good, then he should be given more credit because of the effort he invests—there is certainly in him a more elevated side. On the other hand, maybe there is something—there is room to deliberate—but maybe there is room to raise the claim that if by nature you are a good person, then there is something better in you than in a person who by nature inclines to evil and only manages to overcome it. This is somewhat connected to the “intermediate person” and the righteous person in Tanya. The author of Tanya says that the intermediate person is someone who always does good, only his impulse still exists—he has not eliminated the impulse—and the fully righteous person is someone in whom even at the level of impulse it no longer exists. It’s true that one has to pay a bit of attention here—I’m not sufficiently expert in Tanya to know exactly what he means—but the question is whether he was born with a good character, or whether through his own inner work he reached a state where his character became good. That, it seems to me, is certainly a great virtue. The question whether someone was born with a good character and should then be regarded more positively—that’s already another question, and I’m not sure about that.

[Speaker B] So does the righteous person not have choice?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? No, he has choice, it’s just easy.

[Speaker B] If he has no evil inclination—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then it’s not choice? He has choice, it’s just easy. Meaning, he could have done something else, of course. It’s just very easy to decide not to do it. Yes, like the hypothetical question about angels. There are those who claim that angels have choice, they just have no impulses at all, and therefore they always do what they should. The question is whether such a thing is called having choice or not having choice—fine, that’s a semantic question. The struggle is easier. Excuse me. Rabbi Dessler, in the opening sentences, uses the phrase “there are those who tend to choose.” The expression “tend to choose” is unclear. There is the matter of inclining—does it mean inclination, or that he actually chooses? You can tend to behave in a certain way, you can tend toward something, and there is the possibility of choosing. But what does it mean to “tend to choose”?

[Speaker E] Is that a statistical distinction? Ninety-five percent he chooses this way, five percent that way? No, not in the statistical sense. Actually yes, in the statistical sense. Meaning, not in the sense of character. Not about character—he’s talking about actual behavior. So there’s an observation: most of the time this person chooses to do good, that person chooses to do evil.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t think he’s talking—

[Speaker E] Here about inclinations in the sense of what his character is. So then what is his question?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “What advantage does the—”

[Speaker E] Person who usually chooses good—what advantage does he have?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what? What advantage? After all, they both choose for the sake of their pleasure—that’s what he said. Each one does it in order to derive pleasure, and therefore I’m saying his question is on a third level.

[Speaker E] If he uses the word “choice,” that means this is a value-based decision. Choice is a value-based decision, not a matter of maximizing pleasure.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—what do you mean, value-based decision? A decision to maximize pleasure is also a decision. What do you mean? I decide to maximize my pleasure, and then I do so in the way that actually gives me maximum pleasure. For one person maximum pleasure is doing good; for another, maximum pleasure is doing evil. That too is a kind of choice. You are already assuming that choice is something value-laden. We’ll see later.

[Speaker J] But at the moment, that’s already from the conclusions of previous lectures.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? That’s already from the conclusions of previous lectures. Maybe. We’ll see more as we continue. But it’s quite clear that when he says here “tends,” I don’t think he means character. He means: one person generally chooses good, another person generally chooses evil. We, of course, value the one who chooses good more than the one who chooses evil. He asks: why? After all, both of them are simply doing it in order to maximize their pleasure, just that for each one pleasure is obtained in a different way. So what is the principled difference between them? So I said, his question lies on a third level. It is not on the two previous levels I talked about. The assumption is that there is choice—he is not asking whether there is choice. There is choice. The second question, whether the intensity of my struggle against my natural inclinations does or does not determine anything—he is not dealing with that either. That is a second question. What he is dealing with is that, for the sake of discussion, the intensity of struggle is the same; that is not important right now. Rather, the third question is that the result is a different result.

[Speaker E] They’re both not struggling?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe they’re not struggling, it doesn’t matter.

[Speaker E] It just flows, in that sense—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe he struggles with other things. For pleasure, sometimes a person struggles with other things. A person can enjoy, say, running. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t take effort to run. The fact that you choose something that maximizes your pleasure doesn’t mean you don’t pay prices for it in some other aspect. But fine, I don’t care about that right now; I’m not getting into that issue now. He asks the question on the assumption that everything stands. It’s a choice, and maybe it’s also against the inclination, or not entirely against it, doesn’t matter. The question is why we value the one who chooses good more than the one who chooses evil.

[Speaker B] If there really is choice here, then between what and what did he choose? I didn’t understand. Between following pleasure and not following pleasure? For example, yes. No, but obviously that can’t be the intention, because he says, because the initial assumption he brings here is that everyone goes—or everything everyone does—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They do in order to increase pleasure. So what? So if everyone does that, then it can’t be choice. Again, maybe theoretical choice, but not free choice.

[Speaker B] What do you mean by non-free choice?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s an oxymoron.

[Speaker B] It’s decreed on all human beings.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not decreed, it’s just of course—

[Speaker B] If everyone does it, then it’s decreed, no?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning there’s no choice? No, not at all. If it’s decreed, then everyone does it. If everyone does it, that doesn’t mean it’s decreed. And certainly that doesn’t mean everyone does it. You can say maybe most people do, or that you can’t know that a person doesn’t do this. So on what basis do you evaluate him? You can formulate it in more moderate ways too, and not say that everyone always goes only after pleasures. You can say that usually, when a person does something, he does it because of pleasure. And then the question is: what difference is there between deriving pleasure through good acts and deriving pleasure through bad acts? Of course, there is an assumption here. That’s what I said is not trivial—although I do agree with him, it is not trivial and it needs to be put on the table—that the evaluation is given to a person not according to results. Because if evaluation were given according to results, then the question of course would not arise. What do I care that he does it for pleasure? Bottom line, he performs good acts, so from my perspective he’s a good person. If he asks this question, he is assuming—again, without saying it of course, but that is what lies at the foundation of things—that the evaluation we give a person is not according to the result but according to the path, how one gets to the result. Fine? There is, for example, the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda—yes, people connect this to their halakhic disputes in tractate Sabbath, I think—where Rabbi Shimon came out of the cave and saw all the roads and markets, and Rabbi Yehuda said—

[Speaker D] Before the cave.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay. That comes before. So Rabbi Shimon says—yes, right, actually that was what led to it—Rabbi Shimon says that everything they did, they did for their own benefit. And therefore they don’t deserve that appreciation. And people connect this to the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda about an unintended act on Sabbath, though the Talmud itself doesn’t connect it that way, but I’ve seen people connect it: Rabbi Shimon goes by intention, therefore an unintended act is exempt. Rabbi Yehuda does not go by intention; an unintended act is liable. And here too, in the evaluation he gives to the acts of the Romans, Rabbi Shimon goes by intentions, and since their intention was for their own benefit, why value it? And Rabbi Yehuda says that I go by results: if they do good deeds, they deserve appreciation; what do I care about their intentions?

[Speaker J] He also details the negative benefit they did for themselves. Meaning, okay, never mind. But still, maybe otherwise, if it had been positive things for their own benefit, then maybe he wouldn’t have spoken that way. If he didn’t stop at—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] For their own benefit, but also—

[Speaker J] He also lists things that in his eyes are apparently negative. It seems to me—bridges to collect tolls.

[Speaker B] Not—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Everything—no, there are prostitutes and bathhouses and so on, but there are also neutral things there. We should look at the Talmud there. It seems to me there are also neutral things there.

[Speaker B] Bridges to collect tolls. You can say that this only harmed the public.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, and that’s bad. What, tolls? Fine, you need to fund these projects.

[Speaker K] But he presents it in a negative light.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not sure all the claims that appear there are presented negatively. I don’t remember; we’d have to look there. I think the main point is more that they did it for themselves, so why appreciate them? That’s how I remember it. We need to check the Talmud there again.

[Speaker L] So a person with a good character who strives and makes an effort to get to evil—is he valued exactly like a bad person who makes an effort to get to good, if we evaluate according to the effort to get there? Wait.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So a bad person who gets to good is valued more, because he invests more effort.

[Speaker L] Who said? No, he said exactly the opposite of me. A good person who tries to do good, to do evil—what? Mirror image.

[Speaker E] In the mirror-image case, if the effort—

[Speaker L] To get there—like running. If he enjoys running but has to sweat for it… If the effort—both of them make the same effort. This one was born good and strives for evil, and that one was born bad and strives for good. Both are putting in the same effort, each trying to get to the opposite pole of his inclination. So are they both positioned the same?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, okay, you’re taking it to an absurdity, basically. What? No, you’re taking his question to an absurdity. You’re basically saying: if so, then even more than that—let’s take the two people and cross them. He’s talking about two people who go with their pleasures. Let’s talk instead about two people who go against their pleasures. One’s pleasure is to do evil, and nevertheless he decides to do good. The other’s pleasure is to do good, and nevertheless he decides to do evil. If we praise people only according to the effort invested in overcoming their nature—

[Speaker B] Why? Why only according to effort? The question is what kind of effort. If you invested effort in a bad direction, that’s not something that praises you—quite the opposite.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if he says it’s according to result, then what is his question? After all, his question was why I value the one who does good more than the one who does evil—both are acting to satisfy their pleasures.

[Speaker B] A concept that slaughters steak is like a vegetarian wolf. Here Maimonides is really saying it’s not that they act to satisfy their pleasures.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Neither of them is acting to satisfy his pleasures.

[Speaker B] So what? No, if the reason they sought it was specifically that they wanted to torment themselves, and it just so happens that this one wants evil, then he’ll torment himself, so he went and did—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, to torment himself or something like that, never mind.

[Speaker L] He was born unfortunate. He was born a nerd in Sparta.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And the other was born an athlete in Athens.

[Speaker L] What’s the problem?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, okay, that’s taking the question to an absurdity. Why does it seem—

[Speaker L] I’m just reading what’s written. No, no, and we judge according to the effort against the current.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I accept it, Shmuel. I’m saying indeed: you’re basically taking the form of his hidden assumption, which says that we judge people only according to effort or the path and not according to the result, and then you’re saying: if so, the question can be expanded further. Let’s detach them entirely from pleasures. People act against the path that gives them pleasure in both directions, and we would still evaluate them in the same way. Actually, on second thought, I’m not sure it’s exactly the same. Because then why indeed does the person decide to do evil? Because that’s what he thinks—

[Speaker M] Because he enjoys it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, so from one side he basically wants—this perhaps touches Ezra’s earlier question—whether a person who acts for the sake of his values and pays prices for them, but in my eyes those values are bad values, deserves the same appreciation as the person who acts in the opposite direction. Fine, I’m not entirely sure it’s the same thing, but it’s an interesting remark.

[Speaker N] It’s all relative too. What is good?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Let’s say I’m looking from my own angle, and from my point of view I know what, in my eyes, is good and what is bad—without getting into the question of absolute good.

[Speaker M] If you’re measuring in terms of evaluation, then they get the same grade: zero evaluation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He doesn’t say that. He—

[Speaker M] He doesn’t say it, he asks it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s something else.

[Speaker L] Fine, let’s—

[Speaker O] Start.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so that’s his question. I’m only drawing attention to the collection of hidden assumptions standing behind the question. Before answering the question, you need to understand what foundation it rests on. So first of all, it rests on the foundation that a person chooses something. He is not asking whether there is choice. Second, he says that a person usually—I don’t know if always, but usually—whether he chooses good or whether he chooses evil, does so because that is what gives him pleasure. And once that is so, then he brings the third assumption: that the evaluation given to a person is given on the basis of his path and not on the basis of the result he reaches. And since that is so, in terms of the path, what difference is there between a person who chooses evil and a person who chooses good? Both are, all in all, simply doing what they need to do in order to derive pleasure. “But this question is built on a mistaken assumption. We will clarify the matter and arrive at a deep understanding of the definitions of aspiration and choice and the paths that stand before humanity as a whole.” And then he says: “There is no pleasure except in the filling of a lack.” First of all, that’s a psychological claim: that the pleasure a person derives is always when he fills some lack that he had. Even that assumption—I’m not sure I completely agree with it. And he doesn’t write anywhere—at the beginning of the year I said I want to read the texts we study somewhat critically—so you always need to pay attention: what exactly is the claim, what are the proofs for it, what is it based on? He brings no sources for this—not scientific or factual sources, not even just life experience, and not Torah or rabbinic sources either. He simply states it as some claim that apparently seems self-evident to him.

[Speaker B] I assume it’s supposed to be something from life experience, no?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Could be, but he doesn’t bring proofs for it.

[Speaker B] He’s saying, like, a person is supposed to notice it on his own.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, okay, and the question is whether that really is so. Is pleasure really always the filling of a lack? And not, say, I don’t know—for example, let’s try to think. Exactly, I’m saying—

[Speaker P] A person who never ate chocolate?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly, excellent example. Exactly the example I was thinking of.

[Speaker P] And then suddenly they give him a cube of chocolate and he eats it. He gets a lot of pleasure from it.

[Speaker I] Why did he go eat? Because he was lacking something? No, no, no — because they gave it to him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why did he approach the food at all? He didn’t approach it at all. You know what — he didn’t approach it at all, he didn’t choose, somebody put it into his mouth, his eyes were closed, boom — what a pleasure.

[Speaker J] But that lack can’t exist unless you know that something is missing.

[Speaker Q] We’re talking about choice, and here he had no choice.

[Speaker J] So—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If so, then it’s already only a definitional question.

[Speaker J] Right, it’s completely circular.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You moved over to definitions. No, I don’t think that’s what he means to do, to give a definition. Obviously you can always say that pleasure is something I didn’t have before, and what I didn’t have before was therefore something I lacked. That’s true, that’s how it looks. “Lack” here means a feeling of lack, not that it was lacking by definition — before I didn’t have pleasure and now I do have pleasure.

[Speaker Q] A story of curiosity is also the completion of a lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] True, a story of curiosity — but apparently not every pleasure counts as having some element of lack in it. No, the chocolate case, the chocolate example, is a good example.

[Speaker R] Meaning, he can’t necessarily enjoy every day what he has.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So maybe you can’t define that as pleasure?

[Speaker O] Maybe also, right, you also don’t agree with the definition.

[Speaker R] Not everything completes a deficiency.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I think there’s also some state in the brain, neurons that create feelings—

[Speaker E] Of pleasure — you stimulate them, those neurons there. There’s a sensation of pleasure.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but the question is: when I stimulate them, when they’re stimulated naturally and not artificially, is that always the result of a lack or the completion of a lack? I’m not sure. I can think of examples where it doesn’t seem to me that that’s the case, like the chocolate example or the other example Ezra just brought here, of a person just looking at what he achieved — exactly, the half-full cup. He has a lot missing, there’s a half-empty cup, but he looks at the half-full part and that gives him pleasure. Fine, there’s satisfaction here. Even at age seventy — and when? It doesn’t matter what age — even a person after seventy is still a human being, no?

[Speaker I] What is the essence of that satisfaction? What do you mean? Like, what is satisfaction? The phrase “half a cup” — what is that?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He enjoys it, I don’t know, the pleasure-neurons are firing there at a high rate, I don’t know.

[Speaker R] He enjoys the fact that he—

[Speaker I] Feels that I have value, he feels I did something, so he’s filling for himself some lack of self-worth.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, now you’re saying that the feeling fills in value for him; he’s saying something else.

[Speaker I] No, but he’s saying — no, but you’re saying something else.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What he’s saying is that the fulfillment of value creates the feeling of pleasure, right? Not that the feeling of pleasure itself constitutes filling a lack. Rather, filling the lack creates a feeling of pleasure. Right? Right.

[Speaker I] You—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Are saying no, that the feeling of pleasure itself fills some lack in him, because he likes to give himself some kind of pat on the back.

[Speaker I] Here it’s a filling of pleasure, which fills a lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but that’s not what—

[Speaker I] He’s saying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s saying that the filling of the lack is the pleasure — not that pleasure is a filling of lack, but that filling a lack is the only cause of pleasures. That’s what he’s saying. You’re saying that pleasure, the feeling of pleasure itself, fills some lack for a person.

[Speaker I] That’s not what he’s saying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he’s not saying that. He’s not saying that. He’s saying that pleasure is produced from the fact that a person completes a lack he had. That’s it. You’re saying that the feeling of pleasure itself comes to give him some advantage he didn’t have before.

[Speaker I] I think that’s why you say he doesn’t understand what he’s basing himself on, because that’s how he understands pleasure.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no, no, absolutely not. How does he understand pleasure? Only through that? We’ll see, we’ll see later on. Obviously not, I mean, he… fine. So here, that’s why already here — already here I’m not sure I agree with his initial assumption. Notice, I’ll say it again: I’m not going to keep commenting on this all the time, but I’m trying to read these things — sentences that usually we’re used to just skimming over and moving on to see what he does with them — we’re not used to stopping for a moment and checking what his assumptions are. Do we agree with those assumptions or not? What are they based on? Can we suggest an alternative? Meaning, these things are used later on, and therefore whenever I have some doubt about the basic assumption, I need to check what that means for the rest of the argument. “A person lives through most moments of his life in a state of lack and always aspires to fill his deficiency.” Fine — I’m also not sure I’d sign on to that. Most moments of his life he’s in a state of lack. Maybe, I don’t know, but it’s hard for me to assess that. “When there are major obstacles, major obstacles prevent him from completing his lack. But the more the obstacles increase, the more the lack is felt. Therefore the pleasure increases when at last the lack is filled.” You see that here he’s talking about what I said? Meaning, the pleasure — the greater the obstacles to realizing or filling that lack, the harder they are, then overcoming them, achieving the pleasure, gives him more pleasure. Filling the lack gives him more pleasure.

[Speaker J] And it really does seem that here he’s talking about what I said. That he really is in a state of lack, not a feeling of lack. You’re not constantly in a state of feeling lack. You are lacking. You may not be thinking about it, but you are lacking, and when pleasure comes it will fill a lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] When pleasure comes it will—

[Speaker I] Fill—

[Speaker D] A lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that’s connected to the obstacles. And what does it have to do with obstacles? Obstacles are the opposite: when I have a feeling of lack and I overcame what was holding me back, that gives me a somewhat greater pleasure. Otherwise it has nothing to do with obstacles at all. By definition, every time I filled a lack, that’s pleasure.

[Speaker I] There’s a saying that constant pleasure is not pleasure. I don’t know where it comes from, but that constant pleasure is not pleasure. Like, something that you always have — you really don’t feel the lack. Okay. That existence you’re talking about, I look with satisfaction at what I have — you don’t feel that, you don’t feel the pleasure.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re denying the existence of this kind of pleasure, of looking at what I have and enjoying it. Continuous pleasure. I don’t think so, I think there is such a thing. Maybe not always. No, maybe not always — there are times—

[Speaker I] When you need to awaken something at a particular moment.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But what difference does that make? What difference does it make? Still, at that moment I have some—

[Speaker I] Pleasure, because at that moment you filled the lack you had.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So again you’re returning to the idea that the feeling of pleasure itself fills a lack, but that’s not what he’s talking about.

[Speaker I] I think he is.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You generate a feeling of pleasure and that fills some lack for you. That’s what you’re saying. He says no — when you fill a lack you have, pleasure is generated in you.

[Speaker I] And he says the lack is built into you. Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. And when you fill that lack, pleasure is generated in you — not that the pleasure is generated in order to fill the lack, that the feeling of pleasure itself is the filling of the lack. No. Filling the lack creates a feeling of pleasure. And that’s all. I… satisfaction. Satisfaction is a simple thing, no? Satisfaction that I achieved something I was lacking — I have satisfaction. That’s all.

[Speaker E] Here there’s a dispute between people. There are optimists who see the half-full cup, and pessimists see the half-empty cup. Yes. So someone who always sees the half-full cup really…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] On the other hand, someone who always sees the half-empty cup will never enjoy even his pleasure. He’ll always be looking at the next half that’s empty. Yes, so here I think neither of these two friends enters into… fine, in any case… “But when he attains what he wants easily and without obstacles, his pleasure is small, because something that is already in his basket is hardly felt as lacking.” So he says… so the moment I have no obstacle at all — yes, it’s like in the Talmud: grapes that are standing ready to be harvested are considered as if harvested. Right? Anything that is really lacking only time or only an act, and there’s no obstacle preventing you from obtaining it, is not really called a lack. And once it’s not really called a lack, therefore the pleasure in getting it is also not such a great pleasure. But sometimes, sometimes that too can be an obstacle, but sometimes not; sometimes there are objective obstacles. I’m sure I would really enjoy running, but I have a few obstacles that keep me from doing it.

[Speaker R] And you recognize that you’re missing that running. If you weren’t missing that running, there wouldn’t be an obstacle because you wouldn’t want it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] True, but after I recognize that I’m missing it, I still don’t do it — why? Because there are obstacles. Obstacles not as a result of lack of awareness of its importance, but obstacles as a result of… fine, in any case, “Spiritual pleasure too comes from filling a lack.” And here too I don’t think I agree — again, the same thing. When I… and in spirituality even less so.

[Speaker I] Meaning, maybe the fulfillment is more—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but the lack is not… meaning, when I, say, learn something interesting, learn something from intellectual pleasure — I assume that’s called spiritual pleasure, yes? Intellectual pleasure, whether from Talmud or from something else, it doesn’t matter. Is the pleasure I derive a result of some lack I had beforehand?

[Speaker E] Yes, “There is no joy like the resolution of doubts.” The explanation of—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are pleasures of that type there too, but when I see some very beautiful structure — what, was something supposed to be missing for me beforehand in order for me to enjoy the beauty of that structure? You were lacking that perfection. Huh? So again we’ve gone back to definitions? So definition… no, no — if we’re discussing definitions, then there’s nothing to learn; definitions are empty of content. I’m talking about emotional pleasure, all in all. My assumption is that these things are claims, not definitions. Claims. And claims need to be examined. Definitions — there’s nothing to examine; definitions are just that, that’s the definition. Obviously if I define pleasure as filling a lack, then I’ve defined lack through pleasure. Meaning, what is pleasure? I received something and therefore I enjoy it; that something I didn’t have before, so by definition I lacked it before. That’s obvious — that’s a definition.

[Speaker B] It’s a definition of lack, it’s a definition of the human soul — meaning, in his view he’s saying you have spiritual sinews or whatever—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not a definition — it’s a claim.

[Speaker B] Yes yes, a claim.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, that’s what I’m saying. But she suggested that it should be a definition. I argued that it’s a claim, not a definition. Therefore there’s no point — if we go in the direction of definitions, then everything is always true. There’s nothing to discuss, nothing to read critically in definitions. What?

[Speaker I] You have to start from definitions. You can’t make a claim without knowing what the claim is being made about.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, sometimes the definitions are just assumed as self-evident; they’re not put on the table. I don’t think he was dealing here with definitions, he was dealing here with claims. He wasn’t dealing here with definitions, he was dealing here with claims — that’s quite clear.

[Speaker E] They’re talking here about reality in a very non-formal way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Many times in logic too, many times when you build an argument, you don’t put all the assumptions of the argument on the table. In logic there’s even a name for it — completing enthymemes. Completing enthymemes means missing axioms in the argument. Sometimes it’s obvious, so people don’t say it. In everyday language we’re not committed to the kind of precision formal logic requires. So many times we state some argument — we mean a correct and valid argument, we just don’t always state all the assumptions. And certainly we also don’t always give all the definitions of the concepts we use, because otherwise there’s no end to it. The definitions themselves use concepts, so I’d also have to define the concepts I use in the definition. We’d never get anywhere that way. So usually we assume the language is understood. True, sometimes we have a problem or disagreement about definitions, and then you need to go back and clarify the definitions, but usually these are claims, not definitions.

[Speaker L] But the feeling of lack — it seems to me that the feeling of lack he’s talking about here is something that’s actually an advantage, something positive.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question—

[Speaker L] Is only what kind of lack, toward what.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In a moment we’ll see, he’ll talk about it, he’ll talk about it.

[Speaker L] Because some Sudanese man who doesn’t know what he’s doing in the central bus station has no lack or aspiration for a class in Jewish thought. He doesn’t feel any lack from not having that. I mean, unless there are Sudanese like that?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m sure there are people who are remarkable spiritual people — how do you know he doesn’t have that?

[Speaker L] Let’s not generalize.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, maybe he’s in a problematic economic situation, but there could be people with—

[Speaker L] Economic lack who have absolutely no feeling of lack that they’re not here in the class. They came to the country in order to sit…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, we’ll see later, he’ll talk a bit about the kinds of lack — to pull off a good robbery. He’ll talk in a moment about the different kinds of lack; it just depends what kind of lack.

[Speaker L] Let’s move on, let’s move on.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So he says: the assumption — spiritual pleasure, spiritual pleasure too comes from filling a lack. Again, so there’s an assumption here. In short, the first paragraph told us there is no pleasure except in completing a lack — physical pleasure — and now he says spiritual pleasure too. And the greater the obstacles, the greater the pleasure, because the greater the obstacle, the stronger the feeling of lack too. A person is lacking. He lacks spirituality much more than he lacks physicality. Why? Do you notice that you can’t get past a sentence, if you think a little — if you don’t read quickly and move on, but pause for a second over what this sentence means and where it’s inferred from?

[Speaker B] It’s connected to what follows, though. It seems to me it’s not wrong; it seems to me it’s a continuation of the sentences.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, wait — we’ll see in a moment. In just a second we’ll see. I didn’t say he’s wrong and all that, but I’m saying: notice that when you read the sentences carefully and think about what they mean and try to check whether it’s true or not true — where does it come from, what’s the idea, what exactly does it mean, define well what it means — then even the sentences that look most banal, that we’d have skimmed over very quickly, suddenly are really not simple, and maybe not even true. So he says, let’s keep reading. “A person lacks spirituality much more than he lacks physicality.” In what sense? Is the feeling of lack stronger? Is this a factual psychological claim? I don’t think so. I mean, it doesn’t seem right to me to say that most human beings feel more spiritual lack than physical lack. So what is it? It’s a value judgment. Exactly. We’ve arrived at a definition.

[Speaker J] Exactly. So that’s what it seems he’s saying here. That’s simply what it seems he’s saying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So it’s a value judgment, meaning it’s a statement that in essence, by definition, spiritual lack is greater because spirituality is more important. Fine — if so, then it really is only a definition. Okay, so there’s something here that… let’s see what he says next. In a moment, in a moment, I’ll read the continuation. “Our sages said: the soul has 613 limbs, and corresponding to them are 613 commandments, which impart to them their life-force; see Shaarei Kedushah, etc. And so we find in Bava Kamma: ‘They went three days in the wilderness and found no water’ — since they went three days without Torah, they immediately became weary. And for this reason, ‘water’ means Torah, like King David with the three mighty men — ‘Who will give me water to drink?’ — and so they brought him a halakhic answer from the Sanhedrin. And afterward he apparently died of thirst. And for this reason they instituted Torah reading on Monday and Thursday. Without Torah the soul grows tired from thirst; so that there should not be three days without Torah, they instituted Torah reading on Monday and Thursday. So Monday, Thursday, and Sabbath are meant to divide the week so there won’t be three days without Torah. Without Torah the soul grows tired from thirst, like one who walks in the desert three days without water. And likewise one who goes without commandments and good deeds removes, Heaven forbid, the life-force from his soul and becomes sick and blemished spiritually.” Fine, so that’s the paragraph. Now let’s go back for a moment to the first sentences in the paragraph. Yes, Ari said let’s read the continuation of the paragraph because the answer is there. I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to infer from this continuation. Is the claim that spirituality comes from filling a lack, and that spiritual lack is greater than physical lack — is that claim a claim or a definition? It could be that it really is a claim and not a definition, but the reasoning is reasoning we might call value-based, not factual. Meaning, the claim is that spirituality is more important than physicality; therefore the lack of spirituality is greater than the lack of physicality. This isn’t some psychological claim saying that our distress is more severe when we are lacking spirituality than when we are lacking physicality.

[Speaker B] But later on, it seems to me, he gives something for it that goes beyond the value issue.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, let’s see — we haven’t gotten there yet. “When a person feels…”

[Speaker E] Just a second — a person who swears he won’t sleep for three days, that’s a false oath, right? Meaning sleep is a physical thing, and in the end you’re not capable of it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he can’t. That’s not a question of feeling a lack.

[Speaker E] So if I come to compare Torah to sleep — regarding Torah they instituted that three days shouldn’t pass over you, but sleep in reality you can’t go three days without.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but I’m not sure about that.

[Speaker E] So where is the gradation here that spirituality is more than physicality?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously, it’s like… to say that lack… you’re right, that’s another question. Which physical lack are we talking about? Lack of chocolate? Lack of sleep? Lack of food altogether? There are physical lacks at different levels. When you make a general statement like this, that spiritual lack is greater than physical lack — greater than which physical lack? Is every spiritual lack greater than every physical lack? Or is there some scale that tells me that this physical thing is comparable to that spiritual thing and yet this lack is still…

[Speaker J] In the state an ordinary person is in, usually he’s not lacking chocolate and air and water and sleep and things like that, so he’s not in a state of lack in physical things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, empirically you mean? His feeling of lack is stronger?

[Speaker J] Usually the average normal person in a reasonable, functioning world — not in the desert — doesn’t lack those things because he ate a meal…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not sure. It seems to me that in a normal, ordinary, psychological sense, a person generally feels physical lacks more than spiritual ones.

[Speaker J] I agree with you. I’m saying that’s where he’s mistaken. He’s simply not comparing levels of lack here — if we stay with that pyramid of… it’s not something he’s comparing; he’s just saying that’s the situation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay. Notice how many nuances and how many possible ways there are to understand these things.

[Speaker I] Spirituality is more important than physicality. You can receive a lot and achieve more and more and more.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is that — why does that mean spirituality is more important than physicality?

[Speaker I] No, the spiritual void is greater.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What will happen if we have spiritual abundance and physical lack? In a concentration camp. Are you assuming then there won’t be depression? That’s the comparison, that’s the real comparison.

[Speaker E] I’m sure. It’s not in a concentration camp.

[Speaker I] I—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Am saying, let’s make the comparison seriously.

[Speaker I] The problem is that very often, when there is very, very significant physical lack, then it damages your spirituality too. Because most average people are busy surviving, busy surviving. He’s not capable.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying again: the claim that even when we have physical abundance we can still be depressed, and that it may be because of spiritual lack, does not say what he says, even if it’s true. What it says is that the physical does not fill all our lacks; there are also spiritual lacks. But if you now make a comparison — which is stronger, physical lack or spiritual lack — I don’t see how that fact decides it. How does that fact say anything about the comparison? And in order to make a comparison you’d now need to create a mirror image: someone who is saturated with spirituality but lacking physically — will he not become depressed? I don’t know. Maybe someone should do a study and see. I also don’t know how to determine what amount, what level of well-being in spirituality is equivalent to what level of well-being in physicality. You see, these are things that are hard to measure. Again, I don’t want to get into absurdly hair-splitting detail because it’s starting to look ridiculous, but notice: without that, these sentences have no meaning. I mean, true, it looks a little like hairsplitting and a little like objecting to homiletics — one doesn’t object to homiletics, and so on — but if we want to do this seriously, and we want to hear and study these claims seriously, then we have to check what they mean. What do they mean, what are they based on, what exactly is he trying to claim here, and what is it based on? And here, again, I said at the beginning of the year that I’m going to be very careful about my own bias because I don’t like this field of Jewish thought. And this is one of the reasons. One of the reasons is that the concepts and the claims are not grounded, not defined; people say various ideas, I don’t know where they’re taken from, and build towers on top of them, and somehow it doesn’t inspire confidence in me. But I’m trying, as it were, to read the things in an open way, to come with an open mind.

[Speaker J] Does it damage your trust in the person himself? No, no, no.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying I want to read the claim.

[Speaker J] I’m not saying that doesn’t happen. I’m saying that when you come to a homily like this, you assume that that great person has good intuition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Listen, if you won’t trust him, then let him talk to himself. I want to understand what he’s saying, even if I trust him.

[Speaker J] No, to understand — there are two different things from what you said. To understand what he says, or to think—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Both things are present here.

[Speaker J] I also don’t understand the claim, and also—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The concepts themselves are not—

[Speaker J] But his proofs for things are: that’s how he sees it. And the fact that you trust the person—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The person.

[Speaker O] Okay. That’s not proof. What does it mean to trust?

[Speaker J] It’s intuition. I trust your intuition. Trust in sages, trust in intuition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, wait, person to person by transmission.

[Speaker N] So I don’t see a difference between the way you read, say, texts of Maimonides and the way you’re trying to approach this text. Okay. I don’t think that’s how one should do it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rather?

[Speaker N] This is a much less profound text. It’s poetry. And this you shouldn’t read verse by verse; you should read a chapter and get an impression. It’s not the same thing. You can’t.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I agree that, let’s say, in principle one should read the whole chapter, but I think afterward you need to do pass two — meaning, go back for another round and then read it precisely. If I treat this thing seriously, then I expect it to be defined, grounded, arguments. Relative to its level, it’s not. If it has no level, then why study it?

[Speaker N] I’m not saying it has no level, but there is a difference.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I think you mean to say something else. Look, I’d do the same thing to the Kuzari too, believe me. The Kuzari isn’t any better than this. On the contrary. But I’m saying, I thought you meant something else, and maybe I’ll say it here already because it may be bothering people. Truthfully I don’t want to persecute Rabbi Dessler — that’s not the point. I appreciate him. I mean, I want to try to read this together with you and try to see what he says, that’s all — but seriously, not in a… Now one important point, which maybe at first I thought Tzvi wanted to comment on: there are times, say, when I read a poem. A poem certainly is not to be read this way. A poem is not “low-level”; rather, that genre is not meant to be read this way. It is meant to be read in a different way. What do I mean? For example in a poem — yes, I talked about this — in a poem, its meaning, if there is such a thing at all — that phrase itself is almost vulgar in the eyes of some people — but if there is some meaning or message or whatever we call it, it is not found in the linear content of the words. If I translate the words, say: “the gloomy lantern in the dark darkness will light my limping path,” then now I can look at that sentence and say okay, imagine the situation, there’s a gloomy lantern here, there’s darkness, I’m on a path, fine, I understood. Let’s move on to the next sentence. Obviously that’s not meant to describe the situation which is the linear meaning of the words. Because this is not prose — that’s the difference between prose and poetry. Prose is meant to reflect the content. You’re supposed to translate the words and the sentences, and that is the meaning of the text. There isn’t supposed to be — or maybe there can be hidden things and something more complex, fine, very good. But first of all, fundamentally, there is a linear translation of the text: words and sentences. By contrast, in poetry there isn’t. In poetry it’s perhaps meant, I don’t know, to cast a mood over me, to awaken in me all kinds of things that are not necessarily a direct outgrowth of the literal meaning of the sentence. That’s perfectly fine; that’s the context from the outset. Now someone could come and say that a text of thought is also a kind of poem. Then I wouldn’t phrase it the way Tzvi did — that it has no level or that it doesn’t insist on precision — but rather that it needs to be read within a different interpretive context. Meaning, you’re not supposed to treat what’s written here as an argument built out of assumptions, argument, conclusion — the way I read halakhic texts, say, or philosophical texts or others. I don’t think that was the authors’ intention, and I don’t think that’s what people who study it seriously think. Someone could say: fine, even if that’s not what the authors think — the deconstruction of today lets us do anything — and therefore we don’t have to follow the meaning the author himself planted in the words. The text is removed from the author’s control once it has been composed, and we can do with it whatever we want. Anyone who comes with that approach, obviously there’s no room for criticism of anything. But I don’t think that’s how texts of Jewish thought are generally understood. People take them seriously, and on the contrary, there has been very harsh criticism of the shallowness of the field until not long ago, and they attributed it to the fact that people didn’t engage with it. Unlike Jewish law, where thousands of people engaged in it throughout the generations, so naturally it’s a more developed field. Meaning, it’s a field that has gone through much harsher, more sophisticated, and more intensive filters and laboratories. And in that sense the claim is that these texts are supposed to be examined in the same intellectual way that we examine any other text. These are texts that come to make claims.

[Speaker Q] It’s homiletics, look, it’s a talk that was delivered.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not a homily. That’s why I say — I don’t agree that this is a homily. It’s an entire school of psychology. In principle this is a philosophical argument, psychological, I don’t know what to call it.

[Speaker Q] It was delivered in English in 1929 in England.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the fact that they call it a “talk,” fine, but that doesn’t mean “homily” in the sense of the content. This talk could also be a lesson in Jewish law. If I wrote at the bottom of a halakhic responsum “delivered in England in such-and-such a year,” then you wouldn’t read it seriously? Every halakhic text was written or delivered somewhere in some year.

[Speaker S] But if people are listening, they can’t, with every single word that’s being said now, start checking it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Spoken language—

[Speaker B] In speech you’re less exact with words.

[Speaker Q] With—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I have no problem with that, no problem with that.

[Speaker Q] No, there are also assumptions, certain conventions that everybody agrees on.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Again, I have no problem with that at all, no problem with that at all. Truly, spoken things — obviously people are less precise in wording. Completely obvious. And therefore I say: I’m not trying to catch him on wording. Meaning, if someone tells me, leave it, he really means something a bit different, don’t make these verbal inferences here — I have no problem with that. That’s fine. It’s a legitimate interpretation. I don’t mean here — it’s completely obvious that something said orally needs to be read accordingly. This is a written version of things said orally. I accept that one hundred percent, obviously. I’m only saying that within those limits, what is said here still has to hold water, still has to be an argument with assumptions and a conclusion, to understand where it starts and where it goes. With all the limitations of oral presentation and imprecision, and that’s fine.

[Speaker D] Like in Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed, he defines every word. Yes, right. Even though— yes, right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because really the difference between a philosophical text — I said this, I think I discussed it at the beginning of the year — the difference between philosophy and Jewish thought: philosophy definitely insists on precision, presumably; it’s supposed to insist on precision in concepts, precision in definitions, precision in what the assumptions are and what the conclusion is. And in that sense it’s of course easier to handle. And when there’s criticism, you can’t hide behind imprecision, or it’s harder to hide behind imprecision of wording, because all in all the philosopher is supposed to do the job properly. And in Jewish thought, in that sense, maybe our demands of the text are supposed to be lower. Fine. But still, even if I have trust, I want to understand what he’s saying, and I want—

[Speaker I] To criticize when he tells me here statements of “we will do and we will hear.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But “we will do and we will hear” is something else in practice. If it’s “we will do and we will hear,” then I’m now closing all the books — nobody—

[Speaker I] Nobody—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Gets that kind of treatment from me.

[Speaker I] But there are very many things that until I do them I don’t see things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But what does it mean to do them? What am I supposed to do here? He’s describing something here.

[Speaker I] To reflect and reflect. For example on this sentence, whether a person creates his need for spirituality or for physicality. Okay, so I reflect. So? And… now the question is what I find when I reflect.

[Speaker R] So necessarily, since physicality is fairly limited and spirituality is not limited, then necessarily the pleasure from completing a spiritual lack is much greater than from completing a physical lack. Why? Why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You know, there’s a lot of water in the world. Fine? And there’s less whipped-cream cake. What do you enjoy more? Eating whipped-cream cake or drinking water?

[Speaker R] Depends on the situation. Obviously water—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I usually enjoy whipped-cream cake more, unless of course I’m significantly thirsty, but in the normal situation. Meaning that lack is not a function of how infinite the thing is or how much of it there is… fine, but it’s not at the same level.

[Speaker B] It seems to me it’s not how much there is outside. Outside there’s lots of water, but the amount I need to drink is not an infinite amount of water.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if so, then we’ve gone all the way back to definition. Because you assume that I need to drink a lot of spirituality and less physicality; therefore spiritual pleasure is much greater… thank you very much. That’s why he wrote “the human being.” The human being. Especially the human being.

[Speaker R] The word “human being” isn’t… the animal enjoys an infinite capacity, but the human being is built in such a way that he needs more spirituality.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If you accept it, we’ll accept it; if there’s an argument, there’s an answer. Rabbi, I have a feeling that we—

[Speaker M] The rabbi once gave an example of the philosopher who met his friend, a believer, and started explaining all sorts of things… Hermann Cohen? About the Holy One, blessed be He. And then he asked him: where is the Holy One, blessed be He, in all this? I have a feeling that we’re — that it’s like she says — he gave some talk presenting one very particular facet of reality, and in many cases or many situations in life you’ll agree and connect with what the rabbi says here, that you’ll feel that you’re filling a lack or not filling a lack, and it’s like all sorts of wise sayings—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wise sayings of life that fit many situations, and there are—

[Speaker M] Many situations they don’t fit.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To say that there are cases in which I’ll have more spiritual lack than physical and there will be here… no, but not categorically — I agree with that, yes. I’m only saying this is all kinds of—

[Speaker M] It’s like all sorts of wise sayings of life that fit many situations, and there are many situations they don’t fit, and I don’t think he wants here to cover categorically all situations in the world and determine absolutely that these are the disciplines of the good inclination and the evil inclination.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But to say that at least—

[Speaker K] Among—

[Speaker M] Jews only—

[Speaker K] He’s speaking to his general feeling, because of the commandments.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But even among Jews that isn’t true.

[Speaker K] Fine, okay, he’s speaking to a public of yeshiva students.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Even among yeshiva students that isn’t true — I was there too. The optimism… fine, let’s continue.

[Speaker L] We were educated from age zero — or most of us, in any case I was — from age zero that there’s Maimonides, there’s logic, there’s iron reasoning and philosophy, and there’s the Mussar movement. I had a rabbi, I had a rabbi, of blessed memory.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But this is not supposed to be Mussar, it’s thought. Mussar books are another matter.

[Speaker L] It’s—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Books of thought, they tell us these are Mussar books. Are these Mussar books? No, thought. It’s a book of thought in every sense. What does it matter that it belongs to the Mussar movement? Fine — it’s a book of thought, what do you mean? Of course. What, a book that tells you what is fitting to do thereby establishes facts about reality, about the soul? No, he’s not saying what is fitting — no, he’s describing here a reality of the soul, of the human being, of his psychology. What do you mean? He’s talking about facts. I’m talking with you about facts. It needs to be checked the way facts are checked. Fine, let’s continue. Really, the truth is that once we should have read this quickly and broadly and seen the whole structure, and only afterward gone back and taken it apart. I always feel there isn’t enough time, but maybe really we should have learned to do it that way. “When a person feels these lacks, he tries to fill them; he derives from this completion a pleasure much deeper than the pleasure that comes from completing physical lack.” Let’s leave the comments for now. “Indeed, spiritual pleasure is beyond compare and cannot be compared at all to physical pleasure, just as physical lack is tiny compared to spiritual lack. For physical lack is ultimately limited and measurable, since all matter is limited, even if it is often artificially magnified by the fantasies of the evil inclination, as will be explained later. Whereas spiritual lack is without limit, just as there is no end or limit to spiritual heights. Whatever the lack may be, there is no doubt that pleasure always comes from filling the lack.” Here there is a point that brings me back perhaps to what you said earlier. Here he does already somewhat seem to be talking about a definition. Because he says what you said earlier, basically: since there are many spiritual levels upward and upward, many, many more levels than the levels in physicality — let’s say I grant that, I don’t know, it’s a bit hard to define — therefore spiritual lack is much greater. Why “therefore”? Does the fact that there are more spiritual levels mean that all of them are missing for me too?

[Speaker B] Because that’s the definition of lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. That’s why I said that here you can see a bit that he’s speaking in terms of a definition, not making an argument. And if he is making an argument that says, “I lack more in spirituality than in materiality,” I don’t understand why the fact that there are more spiritual levels than material levels means that I lack it more. Say there are more distances in running, right? So does that mean I’m missing running more than I’m missing whipped-cream cake? Let’s go back to that example again. In other words, that says nothing. Unless you’re defining something here. You’re saying that by definition, whatever I don’t have is something I lack. Now obviously, the more things there are, the greater what I don’t have is, and therefore my lack is also greater.

[Speaker B] No, everything I don’t have that is good, everything I don’t have that is perfection.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, also in the material realm, no, also in the material realm, you’re defining what I don’t have as a lack.

[Speaker B] But materially, if you don’t have an illness right now, that’s not—

[Speaker J] Called something you lack.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he’s talking about lack—whipped-cream cake, not illnesses.

[Speaker J] I don’t—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Think he means every correct thing; he means anything I’m missing, that I want and don’t have.

[Speaker J] Fine, okay, anything I want, exactly.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the claim is that a person wants spirituality to the fullest and also wants materiality to the fullest, and since there is more spirituality than materiality, and since apparently the level of spirituality and materiality present in a person is more or less the same level—because if I have much more spirituality in me, then the question is—

[Speaker B] What remains, what the delta is, what remains. No, why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But spirituality is infinite, so even if I have—

[Speaker B] A lot of spirituality.

[Speaker E] If it’s infinite, okay, then if it’s infinite, okay, fine. There’s another thing here: he added the fantasies of the evil inclination. Just as the fantasies of the evil inclination—our imagination—can intensify the sense of lack in material things, it does the opposite in spirituality. Sometimes our imagination just isn’t capable. Fine, but what would the truth be without imagination? No—the feeling of lack, my feeling of lack, from which pleasure is also derived, comes from imagination, from how I experience things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I understand. I’m just asking: what is he trying to claim? Is he trying to define, or is he trying to argue? If he’s trying to define, I understand—that’s a definition. If he’s trying to argue, I don’t really understand what the claim is here, or what its basis is. Again, that’s why it isn’t clear to me. At first it starts off sounding like an argument; here it already looks a bit more like a definition. So notice that there’s some kind of shift here that careful reading needs to pay attention to. I don’t know what the answer will be, but you need to notice it—there’s something here that changes direction.

[Speaker R] A material lack is satisfied with a little. You really wanted to eat whipped-cream cake, and one slice was enough for you. But maybe in spirituality, when you fill the lack, you want more? You want more—you don’t stop wanting.

[Speaker K] Why?

[Speaker R] And with money?

[Speaker H] If I want money?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] With money too it’s—

[Speaker K] Fantasies—

[Speaker M] Of the evil inclination. About money, the Sages said, “One who has one hundred wants two hundred.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. Fine. We learn this principle from the Talmud at the end of tractate Nedarim. It says there that if a man suspected of adultery saved the husband from mortal danger, the wife is permitted to her husband. The principle is that when a woman commits adultery, she becomes forbidden to both her husband and the adulterer. Okay? Now we have a case where we don’t know whether she committed adultery or not; there is suspicion that someone committed adultery with a married woman. That same person who is suspected as the adulterer saved the woman’s husband—saved him from death. In such a case, the Talmud says the suspicion is removed; there is no suspicion—he apparently did not commit adultery. In other words, if he had committed adultery, he would not have saved the husband. That is the Talmud’s assumption. Now I have a question. And the reason—why?

[Speaker L] But if he doesn’t save him, then he won’t—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Be an adulterer—he wants to go on being an adulterer. The Talmud says that; we’ll read it in a moment. The Talmud says exactly that. And the reason is that if he really had committed adultery, he would want her husband to die and would not save him. And the Talmud asks: isn’t that obvious? And it answers that we might have thought he saved him in order to increase the pleasure of the transgression, as Shmuel said, as it is written: “Stolen waters are sweet.” He wants to commit adultery with a married woman—not with an unmarried woman. What’s adultery with an unmarried woman? That’s not it. Yes? You know the story about Adam HaKohen that I think I already told—once someone came looking for him at home on the Sabbath. So his wife said, “He’s in the synagogue.” The man had no idea what Adam HaKohen would be doing in a synagogue. Fine, he went to the synagogue—probably he figured he was hanging around outside with the guys. He sees a few guys hanging around outside, asks, “Where’s Adam HaKohen?” “Inside.” Fine, he goes in, looks around for Adam HaKohen, doesn’t see him, asks someone there, “Tell me, where’s Adam HaKohen?” “You see over there next to the holy ark, with a prayer shawl, swaying enthusiastically? That’s Adam HaKohen.” He was stunned. So he waits outside, and when he comes out he says to him, “Tell me, what is a priest doing in a cemetery? What are you doing there?” So he says to him, “What’s the big deal about being an apikores when you’re at home doing nothing? The real trick is to sway with a prayer shawl next to the holy ark in a prayer quorum and still be an apikores, no?” That was Adam HaKohen.

[Speaker D] Who is Adam HaKohen?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Some kind of Maskil, yes. Stories about the Maskilim—come on, it’s old.

[Speaker D] Fine, old.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Besides, it’s also a street in Tel Aviv. Okay, in any case, the Talmud says that we had an initial assumption that the fact that the man saved the husband was, of course—the previous adultery doesn’t change anything, it’s still “stolen waters are sweet”; apparently we’re talking about the future adulteries. He wanted to make sure that the future adulteries would be forbidden acts, “stolen waters,” and therefore he saved him. But of course that is only the initial assumption, so it isn’t obvious. The Talmud’s conclusion is that it is not so. If he saved the husband, then really he is permitted—the woman is permitted—he did not commit adultery. Okay?

[Speaker B] But why didn’t they give as an answer that we might think maybe he saved him not because of—meaning, that he saved him even though he loses from it, because his desire to save a person overpowered him? Apparently not. Apparently it’s obvious that such a thought wouldn’t occur.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not obvious; it’s a question of presumptions. The question is: what is the basic assumption?

[Speaker B] They ask, “Isn’t that obvious?” and then say, “What is it coming to teach us?” So they say it comes to teach us that we should not say that he preferred the adultery to be adulterous rather than permitted.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re asking why they didn’t teach us that this is the result of a choice? That in fact he did commit adultery—obvious—but he chose the good, to save the man’s life. Yes, it’s like Abraham our forefather, like the question about Abraham our forefather, who said, “Please say that you are my sister,”—

[Speaker A] Says—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To Sarah—“Please say that you are my sister.” So everyone asks there: if she had really said she was his wife, then they wouldn’t take her, but they would kill him in order to commit adultery with her, so therefore he told her, “Please say that you are my sister.” If they aren’t particular about the prohibition of murder, then why would they be so particular about the prohibition of adultery? Why bother murdering him? Let them take her and commit adultery with her without murdering him. Is the prohibition of murder preferable to the prohibition of adultery?

[Speaker B] So that he won’t resist.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, okay, but I’m not assuming the king of Egypt would have had much trouble with resistance. Unless, well, I don’t know, with his three hundred and eighteen mighty men. But plainly, no—there wasn’t much Abraham could do there. So it’s the same thing here. Fine, a very interesting point indeed, Arik, I don’t know—interesting question. In any case, that’s what the Talmud says, and then he says like this: we need to understand why indeed we do not say so—why we do not say so. In other words, the initial assumption was that we would say “stolen waters are sweet,” and he saved him even though he had committed adultery; the Talmud teaches us that no, we are not concerned about that. Tosafot asks: why indeed not? Why indeed not say that the reason he saved the husband was so that it would be “stolen waters are sweet,” while in fact he did commit adultery? Why does the Talmud say as Jewish law that this is not correct? So Tosafot says and explains there: “It teaches us that an adulterer does not know this, and he prefers that the husband die so that he can marry her openly.” Okay? The adulterer doesn’t know that “stolen waters are sweet,” and therefore he prefers that the husband die so that he can marry her openly. In other words, the adulterer doesn’t—when he does it and the waters are stolen, when he does it and the waters are stolen, it’s a pleasure; when they’re stolen it’s even more fun. But beforehand he doesn’t know that stolen waters are sweeter. So now, when he’s debating whether to save the husband or not save the husband, he saves him and isn’t worried about the fact that it won’t be “stolen waters.” True, in the end he’ll lose from it when he commits adultery next time, because it won’t be “stolen waters,” but fine, he isn’t worried about that. Okay? He doesn’t know that stolen waters really are sweeter. And this requires further analysis: how do we know that he didn’t know that stolen waters are sweet? True, all these things are true—this question already starts in Tosafot. In other words, the question is how far all these inferences really go. The inferences are good. Just on the Talmud itself now—leave aside everything he’s doing.

[Speaker L] Here, in terms of a migo claim—he can make a migo claim.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A migo claim that he saved him in order to—

[Speaker L] If he’s an adulterer, then he would save him? Right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s an anti-migo claim, not a migo claim. The opposite. The migo claim is this: if I had committed adultery, I wouldn’t have saved him. That’s it. The anti-migo claim says: after all, you know you’ll have a migo, so you saved him so that we would believe you that you didn’t commit adultery. That’s the anti-migo claim.

[Speaker L] Fine, but the migo itself—how does it work with Torah scholars? Same thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Same principle. They say to him, this is the anti—

[Speaker L] Migo claim, an objection against them—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It depends who has the better lawyer. In any case, fine, I’m not getting into that now. That really is a question in itself—whether we actually accept this analysis. Do we really accept this analysis, that a person would in fact prefer to save the husband so that afterward he can commit adultery with the woman and it will be “stolen waters are sweet”? Is that serious? Just on its own—leave it, we read it in the Talmud, fine, I understand. I don’t know, there’s something problematic here.

[Speaker D] It seems weak to me. Why?

[Speaker O] What do you mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Talmud didn’t accept it? No, obviously—it says this was an initial assumption. It was a significant initial assumption, yes. Fine, I don’t know. In any case, in Tosafot he then asks, really, why not. Notice, Ari: Tosafot afterward asks—if the initial assumption is so good, then why indeed don’t we accept it? In other words, it’s not just an initial assumption; it’s so good that it isn’t clear why they didn’t accept it.

[Speaker B] I think for the Rabbi it’s obvious that the reason this initial assumption seems problematic is, at root, that same answer of Tosafot—at least according to the Rabbi in Michtav MeEliyahu. But actually it seems to work out completely. What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That they don’t know.

[Speaker B] What does “they don’t know” mean? They don’t know—meaning, not only is it likely that most people also aren’t aware of it, but the point is that even if there is someone who does know, learned it once, it still isn’t internalized. Why is that important?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But is that really the answer? That if you tell a person—no, really, what do you mean? He’s not going to leave the man alive with all the risk of being caught just so that his pleasure will be—would a person really want the money to belong to someone else just so he can steal it? Wouldn’t he rather that the money just be here and he take it, end of story? I don’t know, I’m not sure I would assess people’s mindset that way. But fine, that’s what the Talmud says.

[Speaker B] Precisely because they don’t know.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And because on the theoretical level he really would, basically—if we were to bring it from the heart to the mouth, right? If he were aware of what is really true within him, then he really would prefer that the money have an owner.

[Speaker B] Meaning, does he gain from that? That’s what the Rabbi—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The risk of being caught—in short, there are a thousand other reasons. Even if “stolen waters are sweet,” the risk of being caught and all the—fine, okay, never mind, that can be discussed. “And it requires further analysis: how do we know that he did not know that stolen waters are sweet?” The explanation is that this is a hidden secret from people, for a person does not know the truth—that the essence of his pleasure does not come from the thing itself, but from overcoming the difficulties that stand in the way of attaining it. For if he knew this, he would not choose something forbidden, nor would he aspire to materiality, since that same pleasure can also be attained from overcoming the difficulties that impede the attainment of something holy. And on the contrary, here his pleasure would be even greater, because in spirituality the lacks and the possibilities of filling them are incomparably greater, as explained above. Okay? In other words, the claim is that if a person knew that his pleasure does not come from attaining the thing itself, but from the path or from overcoming the obstacles in order to attain the thing, then he simply would never do evil; he would always do only good. Fine—we’ll come back next time to that implicit question mark. So keep the pages, okay?

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