Tractate Sotah, Chapter 5, Lesson 4 — Rabbi Michael Abraham

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’re in the topic of the prohibition to the husband and to the adulterer. We saw in the Talmud the two—, in the Mishnah, and then the Talmud explains the dispute of the tannaim in the Mishnah about the question whether the prohibition to the husband and the adulterer is learned from the fact that “she became impure” is written twice in the passage, or from the extra “and,” “she became impure and she became impure,” the extra “and.” I commented that it’s not certain there’s really a dispute there, but the accepted view is that this really is a dispute, and today—or maybe next time, I hope—we’ll see that this dispute has implications. Meaning, the source of the exposition from which the law is learned can affect the conceptual definition of the law, the character of the law. But before that, we had started touching on the question of the role of warning. Warning and seclusion in sotah, after I gave the introductions about sotah generally—that the great innovation in sotah is mainly in the laws of doubt, and from there we learn doubt of impurity, the special categories of doubt of impurity as distinct from doubt of prohibition. We saw that in doubt of impurity, in a private domain you go stringently whether it’s one doubt or as many doubts as you like, and in a public domain leniently even with one doubt. And we learn this from sotah, and I said that a woman’s prohibition to her husband is not like a prohibition because she gave birth, or is a menstruant, or something like that. It’s not a prohibition like sotah. It’s not a prohibition that harms holiness, and therefore it’s a doubt of prohibition and not a doubt of impurity. In sotah, the doubt there is a doubt of impurity and not a doubt of prohibition, and therefore from there we learn all doubts of impurity. We discussed—last time I started the passage in Ketubot 9b about “I found an open entrance,” and we saw there too that it’s talking about prohibiting her to her husband, and the question is why the Talmud does perhaps—let’s maybe look at it inside for a moment just to remind ourselves, because that’s where I’m going to begin today’s lecture. Okay, yes. So there it says like this: Rabbi Elazar said, one who says, “I found an open entrance,” is believed to prohibit her to himself. Right? A husband who had relations with his wife for the first time after the wedding and found an open entrance, meaning he found that she had already had intercourse. So if he says he found an open entrance—she had relations—he’s believed to prohibit her to himself. And why, asks the Talmud, if it’s a double doubt? It’s a double doubt; with a double doubt you should go leniently. Why? Because maybe it happened before him and maybe not before him—it could be she had intercourse before betrothal—and even if you say it was under him, after the betrothal, maybe it was by coercion and maybe willingly. I’m not going into more details—there’s injury by wood and all sorts of things and blood and the claim of blood, lots of additional issues—but for me right now I just want to focus on our aspects, so therefore there’s a double doubt here and she shouldn’t be prohibited to him. The Talmud says: this is needed in the case of the wife of a priest. First explanation: we’re dealing with the wife of a priest. So what? Then the doubt of coercion or willingness is irrelevant, because even in coercion she becomes prohibited to him. So all that remains is whether it happened under him or not under him—so there’s only one doubt, and therefore she is prohibited. And if you want, say: in the case of the wife of an Israelite, where her father accepted betrothal for her when she was less than three years and one day old. Meaning, he accepted the betrothal when she was still a minor. If she had intercourse before the betrothal, that means she had intercourse before the age of three, and then after intercourse the virginity would return, and therefore I wouldn’t find an open entrance. So that’s proof that she had intercourse after the betrothal. Now the question is whether it was by coercion or willingly, so there’s only one doubt. So there are two possibilities here: either a priest’s wife, or an Israelite’s wife who was under three years old, and therefore there is only one doubt. Last lecture I spoke about the question how there can even be a situation where, in the prohibition of a woman who strayed to her husband as a harlot, adulteress—we’re talking here about making a distinction between doubt and double doubt. After all, we saw that this is doubt of impurity, the doubt of sotah, the prohibition of a sotah to her husband. So if this is doubt of impurity, there shouldn’t be any difference between a single doubt and a double doubt. If it’s in a private domain, in any case it’s impure; if in a public domain, in any case it’s pure. How can there be a difference between doubt and double doubt? That was the question. I suggested there a possibility—we saw it in Shitah Mekubetzet—I suggested a very novel possibility, and we’ll still need to shed more light on it later, but the possibility says that only after there was warning and a doubt arose whether she secluded herself, then the doubt whether she had intercourse is considered a doubt of impurity and not a doubt of prohibition. And why? Because we defined doubt of impurity as a doubt that arose regarding a state in which she harmed the bond, the marital bond between her and her husband. Of course, simply speaking, every woman who commits adultery harmed the bond. But the fact that this prohibition is impurity and not just prohibition—that this is impurity and not prohibition—that’s only if there was warning. The big novelty is that warning is needed here not only to create circumstantial grounds. The Talmud says there that what warning is needed for in such a case is that warning creates grounds for suspicion. And according to what I’m suggesting, it’s not only that—it may be also that—but not only that. Rather, once there was warning, that means that if she did something, she damaged the bond between her and her husband, and then it becomes a doubt of impurity and not a doubt of prohibition. What?

[Speaker B] Isn’t this sexual prohibition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, it is sexual prohibition.

[Speaker B] So why? Impurity?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I said: illicit relations involving a married woman are impurity. Regular illicit relations are prohibition. That was in the first lecture. So that was the discussion there. Therefore, in the passage of “I found an open entrance,” where the discussion is still whether she committed adultery and became prohibited to her husband or not—right, that’s the discussion there—but since no warning preceded it, then even if she is prohibited to her husband, it will be prohibition; but the injury to the marital bond isn’t here, and therefore it will be a doubt of prohibition and not a doubt of impurity. And automatically, you distinguish between doubt and double doubt. Why?

[Speaker C] But there’s already something here inside the passage itself in the distinction. Here we’re talking about prohibiting to himself, and there it’s talking about prohibition. Not prohibiting to himself—what difference does it make? There there are two witnesses to the warning, right? And here there are no witnesses, rather each time it’s only for himself.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does that have to do with it? But regarding the seclusion, regarding the adultery, that’s something else—there are no witnesses to the adultery.

[Speaker C] Yes, but here the whole essence is to prohibit to himself by his own testimony, כביכול, as self-imposed prohibition. First of all, it’s inherent here within the—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We’ll see that later.

[Speaker C] Say something like this: since betrothal requires two witnesses, and how do you dissolve betrothal? Also with two witnesses, with a bill of divorce for example, in a matter—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Talmud explicitly talks about that later.

[Speaker C] And here he wants to dissolve his betrothal, meaning it’s based on his own testimony.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Either you accept self-imposed prohibition, you accept it; if you don’t accept self-imposed prohibition, then not. Here they are concerned. No, but you’re damaging the betrothal.

[Speaker C] Just as you dissolve betrothal with two witnesses, you’re affecting—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then don’t dissolve the marital bond at all—again, either way. If you do this through the law of self-imposed prohibition, then it means that with regard to himself, and I’ll comment on this more later, but with regard to himself it’s a full-fledged law, but only for himself. Still, that law is a law of dissolving betrothal with regard to himself.

[Speaker C] But not as impurity, not as—why not?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Once you damage the betrothal, that’s impurity.

[Speaker C] I don’t see the passage in terms of prohibition and permission—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t see that distinction.

[Speaker C] Because with warning too, you get into the issue of why isn’t there impurity here? Why isn’t there impurity in this case? What? In “open entrance”? According to the Rabbi’s distinction, why isn’t there impurity here?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because there was no warning.

[Speaker C] But in any case he prohibits her to himself, so he’s doing something here, he’s affecting the betrothal here. Meaning—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but the damage—again—she damaged the betrothal, not he. She destroyed the betrothal and therefore she becomes prohibited. What did she destroy in the betrothal? You can say she committed the prohibition of relations as a married woman. But my claim—this is the novelty—but my claim is that the prohibition is not the essence of the matter. The question is whether she harmed the marital bond. I brought the Maharik, who talks independently of marriage. The whole question is whether you harmed the marital connection. And she didn’t harm it. And I’m claiming that without warning she did not harm the marital bond. You could tell me that her not having harmed the marriage makes it easier. Why?

[Speaker C] What does it

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] matter whether there are witnesses or not? She damages the marital bond. If there are no witnesses, don’t believe it, no problem.

[Speaker C] She damages the marital bond from the depth of the witnesses needed to dissolve—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then don’t dissolve the marital bond at all—again, either way. If you dissolve the marital bond… but here you dissolved it too, according to the Rabbi’s question.

[Speaker C] Of course, exactly, because I’m

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] claiming that dissolving the marriage isn’t really the point. Here I’m asking whether this is impurity or not impurity, not whether the betrothal is dissolved or not dissolved. It’s dissolved in any case. But the whole question is whether this is impurity or not impurity, and the practical difference is whether this is a double doubt. Because in impurity I’d be stringent anyway. The dissolution of the betrothal happens in any case. That’s exactly the point.

[Speaker C] Meaning despite—maybe still—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s the claim.

[Speaker C] I’ll comment later, but in my framework in any case the betrothal is dissolved.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I understand, I just don’t understand the reasoning. I’ll show it, I’ll comment on it later. So that was last lecture. Now, just incidentally, I found this in the Ritva—it just wasn’t with me last lecture. The Ritva there on Ketubot, I took it from Shitah Mekubetzet, but I assume it’s the Ritva. “And they brought proof for this explanation from the Jerusalem Talmud, where it says there concerning that which was taught: anyone who did not act according to this custom cannot make a claim of virginity. In what case are we dealing? If he searched and found, well then he found blood”—the details there aren’t important right now, whether it’s a blood claim or not “I found virginity,” it doesn’t matter at the moment—but look how it ends: “This is said only regarding not causing her to lose her marriage contract, but to continue living with her he is not permitted because of doubt of sotah.” To continue living with her he is not permitted because of doubt of sotah. So the Ritva says: “And some say one should not bring proof from the Jerusalem Talmud, because it disagrees with our Talmud.” Don’t bring proof from the Jerusalem Talmud—the Jerusalem Talmud disagrees with our Talmud. Why? Because there too they were concerned about doubt of sotah even in a case of two doubts, as it says there on the Mishnah about one who marries a woman, and Rabban Gamliel and so on dispute—it doesn’t matter. Again, he has proof that the Jerusalem Talmud prohibits a doubtful sotah even in two doubts, even in a double doubt, and therefore it disagrees with our Talmud, because in our Talmud in the case of “open entrance” we see that in two doubts we don’t prohibit the woman. The Jerusalem Talmud prohibits her even in two doubts. So you see that the Jerusalem Talmud really understands—why indeed do they prohibit in two doubts?

[Speaker D] Because it’s doubt of impurity, right?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, the Jerusalem Talmud really understands that this is doubt of impurity, and the Ritva says: ah, if so, then on this law too it will disagree. I want to claim that no. Even if you say that prohibiting the woman to her husband is doubt of impurity, it could still be that on this law it won’t disagree. Why? Because this law is the prohibition of a woman to her husband, but not after warning. So true, he prohibits her to her husband, but the question of double doubt is not only a question of prohibiting her to her husband; it’s a question whether this is impurity or prohibition. And regarding impurity or prohibition, “open entrance” is not like warning—there was no warning. Okay? So the explanation in the Jerusalem Talmud that in a double doubt they prohibit impurity—that’s simply because it understands that impurity in sotah is indeed doubt of impurity and not doubt of prohibition. Okay? But the Ritva connects it to this case, because he doesn’t accept the novelty I suggested, that warning makes a difference. But as a result of that he says, okay, if so, then in “open entrance” too it really should be like that. And the difficulty I raised is correct—the Ritva at least confirms the difficulty. He doesn’t accept the answer I suggested, but there is confirmation of the question here. He really says: wait, but anyone who sees this as doubt of impurity, then here too it should be like that. Now I ask: but what, does the Babylonian Talmud not see this as doubt of impurity? The Babylonian Talmud also sees this as doubt of impurity. After all, doubt of impurity is learned from sotah. Therefore, I think there’s no avoiding saying that in “open entrance,” even according to the Babylonian Talmud, you can’t say: fine, it’s doubt of prohibition or doubt of impurity. The Babylonian Talmud also agrees that sotah is doubt of impurity. You have to say that in “open entrance” it is not doubt of impurity for some reason, even though in sotah it is. But why? I don’t know why. I suggest: because of the warning. All right? So that’s just an additional note to what I said. Let’s see the continuation of the Talmud. The Talmud basically assumes here that the reason the husband is believed to prohibit her to himself is because of self-imposed prohibition. Here the husband says, “I found an open entrance”; we have no witnesses to that, right? But since according to him he says he found an open entrance, he thinks she committed adultery, so according to him he has to conduct himself with prohibition. And that’s the law of self-imposed prohibition. Meaning, if a person claims something about reality—about a woman, or whatever it may be—with regard to himself, we accept his claim, even though if this came before a religious court, the fact that he claims it would not be enough. For example, this is the Mishnah in Kiddushin that’s brought here in the Talmud: he says to a woman, “I betrothed you,” and she says, “You did not betroth me.” She is permitted to his relatives and he is forbidden to hers. Right? Meaning, I say to a woman: I betrothed you. She says: what are you talking about? Nothing of the kind ever happened. Now from the standpoint of a religious court, what would the court determine in such a case? Nothing. You need two witnesses. Why on earth would we accept what you say? At best it’s maybe one witness—it’s just the litigant himself. So there are no two witnesses here, and therefore the court cannot accept or declare that there is a status of betrothal here, right? But he himself, who claimed that he betrothed her—according to his own position, he is forbidden to her relatives, because he claims she is his wife. So according to your own position, you can’t have relations with her sister. And she is permitted, even though the court would not rule that she is his wife. That is the law of self-imposed prohibition. Right—what he says is relevant only with regard to himself. Fine? So bringing it back to our case, when the husband comes and says, “I found an open entrance,” the whole story starts from the law of self-imposed prohibition. Because if you ask: the husband says—so he says it. Let him say it till tomorrow. So what if he said it? Why is that relevant? He is not two witnesses, right? Rather, what’s the whole discussion regarding him? Self-imposed prohibition. According to your own position, you claim she had intercourse, so according to your own position you have to conduct yourself with prohibition, because you claim that’s the reality. We don’t accept it as a religious court, but according to your own position you claim that’s the reality, so you have to act prohibitively. Okay?

[Speaker F] So the Talmud assumes—is there a situation where he can say “I found an open entrance” and just move on; does he have to report it?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean does he have to report it? If he really thinks there was an open entrance? Good question. That’s in the last Mishnah in Nedarim. There are some discussions in the commentators there. Does the law of self-imposed prohibition obligate me, or once I said it, do they already compel me to behave consistently? What is this doubt? In all doubts, when we talk about a case where there is only one doubt and then we are stringent—but still, understand, this whole business of one doubt or double doubt, the whole story is irrelevant. Even if there were no doubt at all—no doubt whatsoever—the person says, “I saw her having intercourse under me willingly.” He said everything. There’s neither doubt nor double doubt. No double doubt and nothing. Everything is certain. Still she does not become prohibited to him, because it’s only he who says so; there are no two witnesses. This has nothing to do with the question of doubt or double doubt. And even assuming there is no doubt whatsoever, you’re still inside the subjective realm. The person said something; all he can do is prohibit her to himself. He cannot establish a status for her based on what he said. That is not because there is a doubt or double doubt—it has nothing to do with that. Even if there were no doubt at all, simply because this is the testimony of the person himself, and he is not two witnesses. So from the standpoint of religious court there is no proof here. Rather what? With regard to himself, if that’s what you claim, then be consistent with what you claim. Okay? So that’s the rule. Therefore, for example, if this really is the law of self-imposed prohibition, then with regard to her marriage contract payment he won’t be believed to make her lose it. She will become prohibited to him—say he says “I betrothed you,” fine? Now she becomes prohibited, her relatives become prohibited—or he says “I found an open entrance.” Forget the “I betrothed you” case. He says “I found an open entrance.” So she becomes prohibited to him, right? But the ketubah he will still have to pay. Since all his credibility is only credibility to prohibit to himself. The woman’s rights cannot be damaged because you make claims. Anyone who wants to get rid of his wife without paying a ketubah will obviously say “I found an open entrance” and throw her out without a ketubah. There’s no such thing. Bring two witnesses in order to make her lose money. Okay? Therefore all the consequences that do not concern him personally will not arise when we’re speaking in terms of self-imposed prohibition. It’s only consequences that concern him. Okay? It’s subjective credibility. I’ll comment on this further. In any case, what comes out of this is that basically—I’m just introducing the discussion before we enter the Talmud—basically the whole Talmudic discussion of doubt, double doubt, and all that, all of that is within the framework of self-imposed prohibition. Meaning, according to his own position, is he in one doubt, in two doubts? We are not in any doubt at all. From our standpoint, nothing happened here. Okay? We as judges. But according to his own position, he says he found an open entrance. So we say: fine, but according to your own position, you still don’t know whether it was by coercion or willingly, whether it was under you or not under you. So according to your own position you can be lenient or not lenient depending on whether this is a single doubt or a double doubt. But all of this is within the framework of self-imposed prohibition, all according to your own position. And it has nothing to do with what we think. We are in no doubt whatsoever. From our standpoint there is no “open entrance” and nothing, everything is normal. You need to act consistently with what you claim. But still, even what you claim depends on doubt and double doubt, because if you claim you found an open entrance, then you yourself still don’t know, even for yourself, whether it was by coercion or willingly, whether it happened under you or not under you. Therefore the objective categories of the laws of doubt and double doubt also come in here, and doubt of impurity and doubt of prohibition and all those things. But all of that is within the subjective framework of self-imposed prohibition. That’s why before I didn’t really like what you said earlier, Shmuel. I disagreed with what you said earlier, because according to me, once we enter into the law of self-imposed prohibition, it proceeds just like it does in court. Only all the consequences apply only to you. So if this thing is impurity, then even within self-imposed prohibition it will be impurity. But it will be impurity only with respect to you. Meaning, my assumption is—well, my assumption is—that it makes no difference if we move to the plane of self-imposed prohibition. Whatever happens outside will happen here too. The only difference is that it will be relevant only to me. That’s all. Other than that, there is no categorical difference. Meaning, if this thing is defined as doubt of impurity from the judges’ perspective, then it is also defined as doubt of impurity from your perspective. And doubt of prohibition is doubt of prohibition. The only difference is on whom we impose the consequences. Do we impose the consequences on others too, or is it only credibility with regard to myself? That is the difference made by self-imposed prohibition. That was my assumption before. You can accept it or not accept it, but that was the assumption. Okay? So that’s this claim. Basically, the whole Talmudic discussion describes the husband’s own reasoning process. Is he in one doubt? Is he in two doubts? But all of that is only according to his own position; it has nothing at all to do with what the judges themselves think. Okay? Now: what is this coming to teach us? the Talmud asks. I’m continuing the Talmud here. I only brought the Mishnah in Kiddushin, now I’m continuing it in the Talmud in Ketubot, right? What is it coming to teach us? So what have you taught me? That the husband is believed, by the law of self-imposed prohibition, to prohibit her to himself? There’s already a Mishnah that teaches the law of self-imposed prohibition. I don’t need this. Why? We learned: one who says to a woman, “I betrothed you”—that’s the Mishnah in Kiddushin 64—and she says, “You did not betroth me,” she is permitted to his relatives and he is forbidden to hers. So we already learned the law of self-imposed prohibition. So why are you bringing me here now the law of “I found an open entrance”—is it just restating the law of self-imposed prohibition? There’s a Mishnah. Fine, this statement about “open entrance” is a teaching, okay? “You might have said that there he certainly knows, but here perhaps he does not certainly know; therefore it teaches us otherwise.” What does that mean? I might have thought that the law of self-imposed prohibition—when someone says to a woman, “I betrothed you”—why? Because there he knows whether he betrothed her or not, he has no doubts, it’s clear, okay? In “I found an open entrance,” the person himself is not sure that he correctly identifies whether it was an open entrance or not. Or is he uncertain?

[Speaker F] No—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not uncertainty about whether it happened under you or not under you, by coercion or willingly. But whether there was any open entrance there at all. So you claim there was an open entrance—so what? This is your first intercourse in life. You don’t really know what these things look like. And since that’s so—yes, assuming optimistically that that’s the case—so I’m saying: you can’t really know how to diagnose whether there truly was an open entrance. You are not established in this, you are not skilled in diagnosing this matter. Therefore there was room to think that the law of self-imposed prohibition would not help. In a place where you say, for example, “I betrothed you,” because there it’s obvious—you gave her a ring, you said “Behold, you are betrothed to me,” so you know that you betrothed her. There is no question there about what you know—whether we’ll believe you or won’t believe you. But as far as you yourself are concerned, if you are convinced, then you are convinced; there are no internal doubts for you regarding yourself. Okay? As opposed to the case of “I found an open entrance,” where it could be that you yourself did not correctly diagnose the situation. Okay? Then there was room to say that we don’t believe you—or rather, not that we don’t believe you, but even you don’t need to be concerned about it, because maybe you didn’t diagnose the situation correctly at all. Okay? You could say: so what if you didn’t diagnose it, that’s just another doubt. So even a single doubt—well, then it becomes a double doubt. You could say no: if there’s such a concern, then the whole discussion never even gets off the ground. Why accuse someone on the basis of “open entrance” if there isn’t even a basic foundation for the claim? Before all the calculations of one doubt or two doubts, the whole discussion doesn’t arise. So you can debate that, I’m not—doesn’t matter right now. Yes.

[Speaker E] If I understand, basically what’s accepted is that the witnesses are not about the event itself, whether it happened or didn’t happen, but are an integral part of the act. So if he says “I betrothed you” without witnesses—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, with witnesses.

[Speaker E] If there are witnesses—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are no witnesses here—they went overseas. “I betrothed you in front of so-and-so and so-and-so, and they went overseas.” I’m claiming there was a valid act of betrothal, and for a valid act of betrothal you need witnesses. But the witnesses are unavailable to us today, otherwise the question wouldn’t arise. I’m claiming that’s what happened. Okay? So then—that’s what the Talmud says. It says the Mishnah in Kiddushin is not enough, because the Mishnah in Kiddushin talks about a case where there is no problem with my diagnosis. Either the judges won’t accept it because you are not a valid witness, and certainly not two witnesses—but you, regarding yourself, know that you betrothed her, so behave accordingly. But in “open entrance,” even regarding yourself you’re not sure you know. It teaches us that yes, even here there is the law of self-imposed prohibition. Now here there’s room to discuss: what exactly is the novelty? Is the question whether we believe him or not, whether he believes himself or not, whether we believe him or not?

[Speaker E] Even though inside yourself, as it were, you have a religious court in your head, with doubts, and you’re issuing a ruling. As opposed to betrothal, where you know: I know there was betrothal, there were witnesses.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s the initial assumption. And now what’s the conclusion? The conclusion is that even in “open entrance” there is the law of self-imposed prohibition. Why? What changed from the initial assumption?

[Speaker C] Here I brought ignorance and not doubt. Like last time, if you’re not—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doubt in reality. What does that have to do with ignorance? Doubt in reality—you are raising a doubt, you’re claiming “open entrance,” and it’s not at all clear that there really was an open entrance.

[Speaker C] A halakhic doubt—no, it’s not a halakhic doubt.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s law and not knowing. No, it’s not halakhic, it’s factual. The question is whether there really was an open entrance here. You can’t infer anything, but was there an open entrance or not? That’s a factual question.

[Speaker C] The halakhic implications apparently are that this is—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The implications, yes, but the doubt is in the facts.

[Speaker C] And you don’t know.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. Factual doubt is factual doubt. It doesn’t depend on whether you’re ignorant or not ignorant. You can’t even begin a discussion if there is no open entrance here. Meaning, what am I going to do—start a discussion about “open entrance” even though the man doesn’t understand anything about life?

[Speaker G] It teaches us—what do you mean? He can rely on himself in any matter, and even though he’s not sure, that doesn’t matter.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here there are two ways to understand the “it teaches us.” Just parenthetically—it doesn’t relate directly to us, but since we’re learning the Talmud anyway. One possibility: no, it teaches us that factually he actually is knowledgeable. Or at least knowledgeable enough to begin raising the discussion. Okay? And therefore we’re not concerned about that. That’s a novelty which, in a certain sense, is factual. Right? I would have thought he isn’t knowledgeable, and it teaches us that no, it’s okay, a person can distinguish whether it’s an open entrance or not an open entrance, even if he hasn’t experienced this before. That’s one possibility. The second possibility is that this is a law of self-imposed prohibition—that this is an innovation in the laws of self-imposed prohibition. If you claim “open entrance,” then I don’t care that you yourself don’t know how to diagnose an open entrance. Because after all, the whole discussion is not about actual credibility—you aren’t believed anyway. The whole question is when we require you to be consistent with what you yourself claim. Now if you claim “open entrance,” then you decided it was an open entrance. Without a basis—you don’t know how to diagnose an open entrance—but if you decided that, then we require you to conduct yourself consistently with what you decided. That’s the law of self-imposed prohibition. Okay? So if that’s the case, then the novelty is not a factual novelty—that we thought he wasn’t knowledgeable and now the novelty is that he is. Rather, the novelty is a halakhic innovation within the laws of self-imposed prohibition: I might have thought that the laws of self-imposed prohibition depend on whether the person is right about the doubts he has; it teaches us otherwise—not the doubts he doesn’t have. If he himself claims it, after all, every place where he claims something we tell him: behave accordingly, even though we don’t accept it factually and legally, right? So if that’s so, then why should I care if he doesn’t know, if he isn’t expert in “open entrance”? What difference does it make? If he thinks it’s an open entrance, then he has to behave according to his own position. And that is the novelty. And the novelty is halakhic and not factual.

[Speaker H] Now look, “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted”—maybe he could make it permitted to himself too, after all? If he accepts his own view, he—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Let’s say he says, “I found an open entrance,” but I know that it was by coercion. No, but I know it was by coercion. Ah, so the doubt whether it was by coercion or willingly falls away. I know it was by coercion. So here you’d say: the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted. Everything I know about the open entrance comes from him, and I also know from him that it was by coercion. But here you don’t even need to get to “the mouth that prohibited is the mouth that permitted,” because if the whole discussion is about the law of self-imposed prohibition regarding himself, then if he knows it was by coercion, he doesn’t trigger the discussion at all; he just keeps living with her, and that’s it. The whole “the mouth that prohibited” comes up when you go to a religious court. There’s credibility in the mouth that prohibited, and you want credibility also to permit. But here there’s no issue of credibility at all; there’s simply no problem. So if he’s calm and he permitted it, then everything is fine, so there’s nothing to decide. What?

[Speaker G] And what about the fact that he didn’t find that originally?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, he retracts? Yes. I don’t think that’s… it’s like “one cannot retract and testify differently,” even though this isn’t testimony. It doesn’t seem to me that he can, unless he gives a plausible explanation for his words, if he explains where he was mistaken before. Otherwise it looks like he just wants to change the outcome, that’s all. In any case, the question is whether the practical difference here is ultimately a novelty in the laws of self-imposed prohibition, or a novelty in the laws of credibility, okay? Now, I also saw in the Rashba, in the Shitah. The language of the Rashba, of blessed memory: Rabbi Elazar said, one who says, “I found an open entrance,” is believed to prohibit her to himself, because he knows the matter and has rendered it a self-imposed prohibition upon himself. How did he understand it? That a person, regarding

[Speaker D] himself, turns it into a prohibited entity. He rendered it, he rendered it—who rendered it. Right. I

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] understand “he knows the matter” as meaning that the novelty is a factual one. He knows the matter. You thought he didn’t know the matter? Not true. It comes to teach us that he does know the matter. And therefore self-imposed prohibition applies. Right? Look at the continuation: “And there are those who say that it makes no difference whether he is married or unmarried, because the one who says that he knows the matter means that we do not feed a person something that is forbidden to him.” What is that? After all, there is a difference between someone married and a bachelor, right? A bachelor isn’t expert. A married man—someone who was already married, say a first time, second time—he already knows how these things are supposed to be, so he is expert, right? Would there be a difference in those cases? You’re telling me that according to the second opinion, then the novelty is with a married man; but with a bachelor he really doesn’t know the matter, while with a married man you were mistaken—he does know the matter, he’s married, we make an interpretive assumption. Okay? He does know the matter. Okay. If that’s so, then clearly the novelty is a Jewish-law novelty, not a factual novelty, right? Basically he says, wait—yes—“it makes no difference whether he is married or unmarried.” In both. Why? Why is there no difference? Because I don’t care whether you’re expert or not expert. Even if you’re not expert, we still apply the law of self-imposed prohibition. Understand: these two opinions don’t seem to be on the same plane. The first says, “because he knows the matter and has rendered it a self-imposed prohibition upon himself.” And there are those who say, “it makes no difference whether married or unmarried.” In what does he disagree with the first? Didn’t the first say that? The first didn’t talk about married or unmarried; why is that relevant? Clearly it’s relevant. Because if the first says the novelty is factual—he knows the matter—then obviously that applies only to someone married, not to someone unmarried. The married man knows the matter; the unmarried one does not. And there are those who say it makes no difference whether married or unmarried. Why? Because it doesn’t depend on the question of expertise. The novelty is a novelty in the laws of self-imposed prohibition, not a novelty in the laws of expertise or the facts of expertise. It’s a novelty in the laws of self-imposed prohibition: even if you don’t know, and you merely think so, you must behave accordingly. That’s also how he explains it. He says: “because the one who says that he knows the matter means that we do not feed a person something that is forbidden to him.” If you think it’s forbidden, we won’t let you eat it, even if you’re mistaken. And that’s unlike ordinary self-imposed prohibition, where we don’t know that you’re mistaken. We can’t rule like you, but we also don’t know that you’re wrong. The Rashba’s novelty, according to this explanation of the Talmudic text, is a major novelty: here, even if we know that you’re mistaken—not only that we don’t know you’re right—we know you’re wrong, or there’s strong reason to think you’re wrong because you’re not expert, still we won’t feed you something forbidden to you. That is a completely different understanding of the law of self-imposed prohibition, and it’s a demand for consistency. If that’s what you think, behave accordingly. Even though you’re talking nonsense, if that’s what you think. What? That’s forceful. Yes, the force of practice. So that really is the dispute, these two opinions in the Rashba; they really are the two possibilities: whether the novelty is factual or normative within the laws of self-imposed prohibition. Okay?

[Speaker D] Someone comes to town and says he’s a priest, and afterward he marries a divorced woman. I mean, someone comes to town, says

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “I’m a priest,” and then he marries a divorced woman. He has rendered it a self-imposed prohibition upon himself.

[Speaker D] He has rendered it upon himself that all divorced women are prohibited entities, even the divorced pieces are pieces of prohibition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It doesn’t matter what we know or don’t know, but if that’s what he claims. No—if we know that he isn’t a priest, or that he couldn’t know that he was a priest, then it would depend on the Rashba’s explanations. It depends exactly on the Rashba’s dispute. If we don’t know—say we know his father wasn’t a priest; his father was called Cohen, but we know his father wasn’t a priest. Now he says, “I’m a priest, my father was called Cohen.” Okay? Now he’s sure his father was a priest, right? We know that isn’t true. That depends on the dispute between the explanations in the Rashba. Yes. Good.

[Speaker C] The question is whether to call him up also for the priestly blessing and so on.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that we wouldn’t do. Because that’s only a law of self-imposed prohibition. We would never call him up in any case. Again, were it not for the rule that one witness is believed in matters of prohibition—where, in that context, the testimony of one person may suffice—were it not for that, we wouldn’t call him up even without this.

[Speaker C] We spoke about this this morning in Sotah, in the passage. What? Whether to call up someone who arrived and put him up for the priestly blessing? How complicated was that… did we speak about it here in the learning sessions?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the Talmud, the Talmud that continues, says: “And did Rabbi Elazar really say this? Did Rabbi Elazar really say this? But Rabbi Elazar said: A woman is not forbidden to her husband except through warning and seclusion, and as in the incident that occurred.” What does that mean? A woman is not forbidden to her husband except in cases of warning and seclusion. Only in such a case. Meaning that “I found an open entrance”—if there was no warning and seclusion—the woman is not forbidden to her husband. That’s not what I said. What I said was that when there is warning, then it’s not a category of impurity but of prohibition, but she is forbidden to her husband. Only she is forbidden to her husband on the basis of one doubt and not a double doubt, because it’s prohibition and not impurity. Here the Talmud raises something more radical. It says: without warning and seclusion she isn’t forbidden at all; it’s not about the doubts. If there is no warning, there is no prohibition. The prohibition depends on warning. Because only regarding that—I remind you again of the opening of the previous lecture—this derivation that we learned, that she is forbidden to the husband and to the adulterer, is stated in the passage of the suspected adulteress. Even though we’re talking about any married woman who committed adultery, it is stated in the passage of the suspected adulteress. The initial thought would be, as the Talmud says, yes—it is stated in the passage of the suspected adulteress for a reason, because it was said only about the suspected adulteress. Not every adulterous woman becomes forbidden. I said that it was stated in the passage of the suspected adulteress, but we understand what that means: what is the novelty in the passage of the suspected adulteress? The novelty there concerns the laws of doubt. Meaning that although you have a doubt, you decide that she committed adultery. Once she committed adultery, she becomes forbidden to the husband and to the adulterer. The novelty is not that there is a prohibition on the husband and the adulterer. That is true of every adulteress. The novelty in the suspected adulteress passage is that even though you did not see, she is considered an adulteress. That is a novelty in the laws of doubt. But the fact that she is forbidden to the husband and the adulterer is not because she was a suspected adulteress or because of the warning, but because she committed adultery. Now the Talmud says, no—wait—it may be otherwise. After all, she is forbidden only under the laws of warning and seclusion. Meaning: it is stated in the passage of the suspected adulteress because this is a law about the suspected adulteress, not a law about an adulterous woman. There is some specific reason why specifically a suspected adulteress is forbidden to her husband. This does connect with what I said in the previous lecture, in a somewhat different way. Not in the bottom line, but the idea is the same idea. What is the idea? The idea is that if she committed adultery, then she violated a prohibition and is therefore liable to death. Okay? But the prohibition on the husband and the adulterer is not because of the prohibition. The prohibition on the husband and the adulterer is because “she has betrayed her husband,” as we saw in the Maharik. Right? Therefore, even if there had been no prohibition—she was acting unwittingly—regarding the prohibition itself she would not become forbidden, but if she knew this wasn’t her husband, only she didn’t know it was forbidden, she does become forbidden. Why? Because the prohibition to her husband is not based on the fact that she violated a prohibition, or on the severity of the prohibition she violated. It is based on the fact that she damaged the marital bond. So the Talmud states the idea I said last time in an even more radical way. The Talmud says not only that without warning it would be treated as doubtful prohibition and not doubtful impurity, but that there would be no prohibition to her husband at all. Since the prohibition to her husband stems from the fact that there was damage here to the marital bond. This initial assumption of the Talmud is excellent proof for what I said last time. Because the Talmud is teaching us—we’ll see later that the Talmud backs away from it—but what is it teaching us? That she becomes forbidden whenever she committed adultery, even without warning and seclusion. But the Talmud did not back away from the idea that only after warning is there here, in essence, damage to sanctity, and it turns into laws of impurity. Good. The prohibition to her husband does not depend on whether this is impurity or not impurity; it depends on the prohibition. Okay, but for our purposes, the question whether this is one doubt or a double doubt will depend on whether it is impurity or prohibition, and that remains. Meaning, the Talmud’s conclusion did not back away from that, at least I have no proof that it did. Okay? We do not multiply disputes unnecessarily, yes. The prohibition to her husband came back, but the assumption had been that the prohibition to her husband depended on whether there was impurity here. It comes to teach us no: the prohibition to her husband is a prohibition in any case; the question of impurity—that will depend on whether it is one doubt or a double doubt. That still remains. And that is only if there was warning. If there was no warning in the case of “open entrance,” then there will be no difference between one doubt and a double doubt. If it happened in a private domain, she will be forbidden to her husband in any case. Okay. Sorry—that means there there is no warning, the reverse. So if there is no warning, then only in one doubt and not in a double doubt. Okay. So I think this question of the Talmud is excellent proof for what I said in the previous lecture, even though again, in the final conclusion the Talmud backs away from it—it’s only an initial assumption. It backs away not from that aspect, but only from the implication regarding her prohibition to her husband. Fine. To the extent that there is really a comment here on the Maharik. Because the Maharik preserves the conception that even the prohibition to her husband depends on “she has betrayed her husband.” He apparently understands that in any case there is betrayal of her husband even if there was no warning. If she committed adultery and knew it wasn’t her husband, there is betrayal of her husband. Fine. That is basically the conclusion according to the Maharik. That is indeed called betrayal of her husband, in the conclusion. The initial assumption was no, only if there was warning. It comes to teach us no—even without warning, the very fact that you committed adultery and knew you were doing so with someone who was not your husband, that is betrayal of your husband. I’m saying one could formulate this more moderately and remain with what I said in the previous lecture. What does “as in the incident that occurred” mean? The incident that occurred is David and Bathsheba. David and Bathsheba. Rashi says—but immediately afterward in the Talmud, the Talmud also says—but that’s just so you know. So “as in the incident that occurred” means David and Bathsheba. Fine? And the Talmud asks logically: was the incident that occurred one of warning and seclusion? And furthermore, did anyone forbid her? Did anyone forbid Bathsheba to Uriah? David? Uriah? Whom are we talking about? Both? Uriah died. Uriah died, fine, but the question is whether they forbade her to him. No, he died afterward. He didn’t die before. You’re already jumping to the Talmud’s conclusion that they gave a bill of divorce and that she was… The assumption right now is that she was a married woman when David had relations with her, otherwise there is nothing to discuss here.

[Speaker D] If it wasn’t a king, don’t they give warning? What is that?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You don’t give warning in the case of a king? Why wouldn’t they? If Uriah had given her warning, then she’d be forbidden for everything. What is that? You could say she was a suspected adulteress under coercion because there was a power relationship, what we call the king forcing himself on her, fine. So that has to be discussed. But if her husband was a priest, then even under coercion she is forbidden to him. Fine, it needs discussion, but in any case there is warning; I think there is warning even with a king—here, the Talmud says so. So the Talmud says this is “as in the incident that occurred,” and therefore she is forbidden only through warning and seclusion. The Talmud asks: what do you mean? It’s the opposite. In David the king’s case there was no warning and seclusion, and besides, she wasn’t forbidden at all. So what proof are you bringing me from the incident that occurred? That’s not… what?

[Speaker G] What do we learn from this? What should we understand from this?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, what should we understand from this? Didn’t I say there was nothing there? Of course there was something there. What do you mean there was nothing there? King David had relations with a married woman—what do you mean there was nothing there?

[Speaker H] Tell the story before we say what the truth is—what the real story is. Tell your story so we’ll know roughly. Everyone tells it differently.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—the Hebrew Bible tells the story, what do you mean? He had relations with her when she was a married woman, what do you mean? We’ll soon see afterward with the bill of divorce and all that, but the plain meaning of the Talmud, the plain meaning of the Torah, the Hebrew Bible, is that he had relations with her as a married woman. What do you mean?

[Speaker J] And also that David sinned.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, we’ll get to that—that’s later in the Talmud here. So what is this? Rashi says there—what does “did anyone forbid her?” mean? Right? “And furthermore, did anyone forbid her?” So Rashi says: did anyone forbid her to Uriah? Why to Uriah and not to David? What? Why to Uriah and not to David? She was permitted to him—to David?

[Speaker G] She wasn’t permitted, and the prohibition can apply only to Uriah.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, she is forbidden to the husband and the adulterer, what do you mean? She is also forbidden to the adulterer.

[Speaker G] The reality is that before the established presumption, before this, maybe…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] While she is still a married woman she is forbidden because she is a married woman, not because she committed adultery. She is obviously forbidden to the adulterer. When we speak about “forbidden to the husband and the adulterer,” we mean forbidden to the adulterer after she is free from her husband. So why does Rashi emphasize, when he speaks—the Talmud asks “did anyone forbid her,” and Rashi says “did anyone forbid her to Uriah”? First of all, in the flow of the Talmud, that is hard to connect.

[Speaker K] What? It’s hard to connect. He didn’t know.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what? No, no—the Talmud asks first: after all, this was not a case of warning and seclusion. But there’s an additional question: even if it had been warning and seclusion, the fact that they didn’t forbid her—so why are you bringing me proof here about prohibitions? He says, what do you mean they didn’t forbid her? To whom didn’t they forbid her? Look, what is the discussion in the Talmud about? The topic is the “open entrance” topic, not the topic of the suspected adulteress. And in “open entrance,” what is the discussion? To forbid her to the husband, not to the adulterer. He doesn’t know who the adulterer is. She had relations; we don’t know who the adulterer was. The discussion is not to forbid her to the adulterer; the discussion is to forbid her to the husband, right? And when the Talmud brings proof from the incident that occurred, we are supposed to look at the husband, whether she is forbidden or not forbidden. And it may be that there is some assumption that husband and adulterer go together—that we’ll get to shortly. But at least in terms of the flow of the Talmud, we are asking whether she becomes forbidden to her husband. Later we’ll see what about the adulterer. In “open entrance,” the whole discussion is only about her husband; there is no discussion about the adulterer. Therefore, when you bring “as in the incident that occurred,” clearly the discussion is whether she was forbidden to Uriah, not whether she was forbidden to David. More than that: the question, if “they didn’t forbid her,” meaning “they didn’t forbid her to David,” is explicit in the verses—that they didn’t forbid her to David. After all, even if Uriah died and all you want, David still would have been forbidden to continue living with her. Where does King Solomon come from? Meaning, David would have been forbidden to have relations with her, right? So the Torah, the biblical text itself, cries out that David lived with her permissibly. Fine? When it says “they didn’t forbid her,” it means: don’t tell me “they didn’t forbid her”; tell me that the biblical text itself says it was permitted. “They didn’t forbid her”—we don’t find anywhere that they forbade her. About whom can you say such a thing? Only about Uriah, not about David. In David’s case it isn’t that we don’t find that they forbade her; David lived with her. It’s not that we don’t find that they forbade her, okay? It’s not just “did anyone forbid her.” The verses, the text, scream and say that King David lived with her and fathered Solomon, and nobody peeped. Meaning, they spoke about the act itself as something improper—Nathan did—but not about his continued life with her. Okay? So the discussion in the Talmud here in any case seems pretty clear why Rashi had to say “and furthermore, they did not forbid her to Uriah.” Okay? And therefore the wording is also “they did not forbid her,” rather than bringing the verses that David lived with her. One could have said that if David lived with her, that means she was not forbidden to the adulterer. If she was not forbidden to the adulterer, apparently she also was not forbidden to the husband, because it always goes together. And then again you have proof that she was not forbidden to Uriah. Fine, that could be. Rashi indeed writes: “And who forbade her to Uriah? For had she been forbidden to Uriah, she would also have been forbidden to David, for we hold that just as she is forbidden to the husband, so she is forbidden to the adulterer.” What does that mean? Why did he add that? Fine—“they didn’t forbid her to Uriah,” and we care only about Uriah because this is “open entrance,” just a question about the husband. Why does he add “just as to the husband, so also to the adulterer”? Why does it matter whether she was permitted to David or not? I’m asking whether she was permitted to Uriah. Well… he’s pressing the matter.

[Speaker J] No,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] she is forbidden to the husband and the adulterer, what do you mean?

[Speaker J] He wants to say that if she was forbidden to the husband, she was forbidden to the adulterer.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if she committed adultery, what do you mean? If she committed adultery she is forbidden even to an Israelite husband. Only if she committed adultery under coercion. No—the Talmud here is not yet speaking about coercion; it looks willing. We’ll see later.

[Speaker G] Maybe there was some new claim there? What? I didn’t understand. Why would there be a new claim?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We said there was no claim of “open entrance” there. There we know she committed adultery; we don’t need the claim of “open entrance.” A religious court is discussing it; it’s not a person deciding for himself. Okay? It’s not that Uriah is claiming “I found an open entrance.” Uriah claimed nothing; he died. In the end, yes. So I think what Rashi is really saying is: “Who forbade her to Uriah?” We do not find that they forbade her to Uriah. What do you mean we do not find it? Maybe they did forbid her? Who says they didn’t? Exactly! Since we see, after all, that David was not forbidden her, and the rule is that she is always forbidden to both of them, so if she is not forbidden to the adulterer, apparently she was also not forbidden to the husband. That is the proof. This is very important for our discussion later. Why? Because Rashi assumes that it always goes together, right? Meaning, prohibition to the husband is an indication of prohibition to the adulterer. Meaning, it always goes together: if she is not forbidden to the husband, she is not forbidden to the adulterer, and vice versa. Okay? That is already something we’ll have to examine later; it’s not completely agreed upon. But that’s what emerges from here. We have to discuss why that is indeed so, but we’ll see later. The Talmud says: no difficulty; this is what he meant: “A woman is not forbidden to her husband except through warning and seclusion, from the incident that occurred, for there was no warning and seclusion there and he did not forbid her.” You read it wrong; the text version was wrong. What does that mean? The proof they brought from the incident that occurred is the opposite. Precisely because there was no warning and seclusion there, therefore she indeed was not forbidden. There, you see she was not forbidden. Why was she not forbidden? Because there was no warning and seclusion. So that is the proof that a woman is forbidden only through warning and seclusion. Fine? And not through witnesses. Notice, I’m going back again through the whole line of reasoning—so why indeed is that so? Because the warning turns this into betrayal of the husband. The idea I said in the previous lecture. And for now we’re still there. This is an internal question and answer. Soon that will fall away, but for now it’s an internal question and answer. We are still there, with the view that a woman is forbidden only through warning and seclusion, not through adultery. And according to this, the novelty in the passage of the suspected adulteress is not a novelty in the laws of doubt. It’s a novelty that is not only in the laws of doubt. The novelty is that in the case of the suspected adulteress this is betrayal of the husband, as distinct from adultery. It’s not that the suspected adulteress is also an adulteress, and the novelty is in the laws of doubt—that even though you are uncertain, know that we assume she really committed adultery. That would be a novelty in the laws of doubt. Right? Here, no. The novelty is that there is a passage about the suspected adulteress that is different from the ordinary laws of adultery. A woman becomes forbidden to her husband in the case of the suspected adulteress; in adultery, not. For the moment, yes? That’s where we are. So this is a completely different reading of the novelty of the passage of the suspected adulteress. The Talmud says: yes, so if so, then what is the Talmud basically saying? “In any event, there is still a difficulty: warning and seclusion yes, open entrance no?” Right? Bottom line, it comes out that Rabbi Elazar said warning and seclusion yes—oh sorry, not Rabbi Elazar, right? Who is it? Ah, it’s also Rabbi Elazar, yes, both of them—it’s a contradiction within Rabbi Elazar himself. Rabbi Elazar said: “I found an open entrance,” so he is believed to forbid her, and this is one doubt, two doubts, and so on. The Talmud asks: what do you mean, but Rabbi Elazar himself said that a woman is forbidden only through warning and seclusion; in “open entrance” there is no warning and seclusion. So why does the discussion there about prohibition begin at all? Okay? The Talmud says: yes—“In any event, there is still a difficulty: warning and seclusion yes, open entrance no?” The Talmud says: “And according to your reasoning, warning and seclusion yes, witnesses no?” So even with witnesses, no? Only warning and seclusion? That doesn’t sound plausible to the Talmud. If I gave warning and there was seclusion, then she becomes forbidden to me, yes? But if there were witnesses that she committed adultery, can that not be? Why can that not be? In the Tosefta? What Tosefta? Not at all; the question is not even at the level of testimony. Again, we have returned to the conception that warning is only “circumstantial indications.” It cannot be that circumstantial indications are stronger than two witnesses. Right? We’re back to comparison on the evidentiary plane. Two witnesses are conclusive evidence, while circumstantial indications are a heavy suspicion. Okay? But not conclusive evidence. So if a heavy suspicion can forbid her, then conclusive evidence cannot? Meaning, we’ve backed away from the notion that warning is required not only at the evidentiary level but also at the categorical level. Meaning, once it falls under the passage of warning, we are discussing whether she damaged her husband or did not damage her husband. The Talmud returns to the ordinary conception that warning is required only for the level of evidence—for circumstantial indications. It creates circumstantial indications. Fine. If so, and with two witnesses it is far stronger, it cannot be otherwise. But again I remind you: all this is only with regard to forbidding her to her husband. But regarding the question whether this is doubtful impurity or doubtful prohibition, the Talmud has not necessarily backed away from that. Clearly warning also creates circumstantial indications—I’m not arguing with that, that’s explicit in the Talmud, that’s clear. I’m only claiming that besides that, warning has another role: to turn this into doubtful impurity rather than doubtful prohibition. It’s not instead of that; it’s an additional role. Okay? That is the important point. What the Talmud says here is that the prohibition of the woman to her husband depends on the evidentiary level of the adultery. In short, that the novelty of the laws of the suspected adulteress is a novelty in the area of doubt: that circumstantial indications are like certainty. Fine—it’s like certainty, so certainty itself certainly forbids her. If something that is like certainty also forbids her. Okay? I am only claiming that in terms of the relation between one doubt and a double doubt, that still remains even now. Because this is doubtful impurity and not doubtful prohibition. It doesn’t depend on the strength of the evidence we have. If there were witnesses but no warning—yes, if there were witnesses but no warning, then I am certain she committed adultery and she will be forbidden to her husband. But if here there is only one doubt and not… if it is a double doubt and not one doubt, then she will not be forbidden. Because it is doubtful prohibition and not doubtful impurity. Fine? And that, I claim, is true even according to the Talmud’s conclusion. In the initial assumption the Talmud assumed these go together. What I am claiming is that in the conclusion it did not retreat from everything. It retreated from the prohibition as it relates to her being forbidden to her husband, but still, as a category—whether this is impurity or prohibition—it may remain. Okay? Rashi says: “witnesses no?” as a rhetorical question.

[Speaker C] What’s the point of doubtful impurity—are you being lenient or strict, basically? Because you’re really changing all the definitions here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. Warning still has another role. There are now two novelties in the passage of the suspected adulteress. One novelty is in the laws of doubt: if you have circumstantial indications, it’s like two witnesses. The second novelty is that the warning returns you to the category of impurity and not the category of prohibition—in that passage. A leniency in the public domain and a stringency in the private domain.

[Speaker C] Okay, so once there is doubtful impurity here, does that mean something we are more lenient about, or

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] more strict about? No, no, no—that has nothing to do with me. You see that in the general laws of doubtful impurity. Doubtful impurity in the public domain is a doubt that is lighter than an ordinary doubt, and in the private domain it is more severe than an ordinary doubt. Between doubtful impurity and ordinary doubt there is no simple hierarchy.

[Speaker C] But here, beyond doubtful seclusion, you also have doubtful impurity, and that will have implications…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s only doubtful impurity.

[Speaker C] So without doubtful prohibition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, to move categories, exactly.

[Speaker C] And among other things I’m lenient. Among other things I’m also lenient.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, if it’s in the public domain, but then she wasn’t secluded. The whole idea—everything that happened here happened in the private domain. “She secluded herself” means she secluded herself in the private domain, always. Therefore from here they derive the distinction between private domain and public domain. Since a suspected adulteress always secludes herself in the private domain, everything said regarding doubt is said only in the private domain. Therefore this is a hypothetical discussion. Meaning, if there were a suspected adulteress with a single doubt in the public domain, then apparently it would come out leniently, but there is no such case. Because if it’s in the public domain, then she did not seclude herself. Seclusion exists only in the private domain. Exactly. So she did not seclude herself; we’re back exactly in the whole passage of the suspected adulteress. Rashi says: “witnesses no—warning and seclusion yes, witnesses no?” So Rashi says: “witnesses no?” as a rhetorical question—“Even if there are witnesses that she committed adultery, is it possible that she is not forbidden without warning? But doesn’t Scripture say, ‘because he found in her a matter of nakedness,’ and also, ‘and she was not seized’—she is forbidden.” Notice, Rashi brings proof for this. This matter is not simple in his eyes, this a fortiori argument that if circumstantial indications work then witnesses certainly should. Why would you need proof? It’s obvious—the evidentiary level is stronger with witnesses than with circumstantial indications. Rashi understands that there was another initial assumption here: that warning is needed for another role. Therefore Rashi says no, we know—it is stated in the passage itself, “and she was not seized,” and so on, that the determining factor is the level of evidence. Okay? “The verse teaches,” yes, that’s the Talmud in Sotah; I brought it here simply so you can see Rashi’s source: “‘Because he found in her a matter of nakedness,’ and elsewhere it says, ‘By the mouth of two witnesses or by the mouth of three witnesses shall a matter be established’; just as the matter stated there is by two witnesses, so too here by two witnesses.” So you see that by two witnesses she is forbidden. “Because he found in her a matter of nakedness” means he sends her out; she is forbidden to him. So you see that through witnesses too she becomes forbidden to him, and not only through warning and seclusion. So we have proof—it’s not only an a fortiori argument. I see, meaning, I would have thought the question was an a fortiori one. Right? “Warning and seclusion yes, witnesses no?”—as if a fortiori. Rashi says no, it’s not a fortiori. There is simply proof that with witnesses too it is so, because it is written in the verse. Why isn’t it a fortiori? As I said earlier, because in truth it is not an a fortiori. There may be a categorical difference here; it has nothing to do with the strength of evidence. Two witnesses are more important evidence than warning and seclusion, more decisive evidence than warning and seclusion. But the warning moves me into a different territory, a different category. Therefore it is not certain that you can derive this a fortiori from warning and seclusion to witnesses. And Rashi says, true—but there is a verse. The verse says that through witnesses too she becomes forbidden. That strengthens even more what I said earlier. Even the Talmud’s question, which says a fortiori regarding witnesses, does not automatically assume that it is only an evidentiary matter. There is a verse, okay, so the verse says that despite the possibility that warning creates a categorical shift here, the prohibition to her husband depends only on the evidentiary level. The verse says that. But that strengthens even more the possibility I mentioned earlier: if so, then even in the conclusion warning can still be relevant. The verse does not say warning is irrelevant. It is not relevant to forbid her to her husband, but it is relevant to the question whether this is impurity or prohibition. Yes.

[Speaker E] A question: what happens if they make her drink and she comes out innocent? The warning and seclusion are only to arouse the doubt in order to make her drink.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. If she did not commit adultery, then she also did not damage the marital bond.

[Speaker E] Exactly. All the warning and seclusion goes back to zero if she is found innocent.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course. Because warning and seclusion are only indications that she committed adultery. If in the end you know she did not commit adultery, then what?

[Speaker E] Right, and therefore witnesses to adultery are much stronger than the whole matter of warning and seclusion.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Stronger—obviously. Again, the force is obvious. But I’m showing you that not only is it possible that the Talmud did not make an a fortiori argument here—Rashi explains that this is not an a fortiori argument. He brings a source. Why? What? It’s a simple a fortiori—what’s the problem? Why do you need a source? You tell me: if I have a doubt with circumstantial indications I assume she committed adultery; now if there are two witnesses that she committed adultery then of course she committed adultery. Why do I need sources? No—Rashi says there is a verse. Why is there a verse? The verse comes to teach me that her prohibition to her husband does not depend on the question whether she betrayed the marital bond, but on the question whether she committed adultery. That’s all. Warning may still play a role. That’s something else. Now, when I say, “What do you mean, warning and seclusion yes, witnesses no,” what do we understand from here? One could understand it in two ways. One could understand that the law of self-imposed prohibition has a status like two witnesses. For me, it has the status of two witnesses. Where do we find such a thing? Like a litigant’s own admission. A litigant’s own admission is like a hundred witnesses, right? Even though in itself he is an interested party, he is one witness, meaning he is not ordinarily believed. But regarding himself, it is like a hundred witnesses. Okay? So true, this is a subjective law that applies only regarding himself, but when you discuss that domain of “regarding himself,” the force of the evidence is like two witnesses. Or a hundred witnesses—even more than two witnesses—because if two witnesses come against a litigant’s own admission, the litigant’s admission overrides them. Right? If someone says, “Whoever says ‘I did not borrow’ is as though he says ‘I did not repay,’” yes? Someone says, “I did not borrow,” and then two witnesses come that he did borrow. So wait, by his own admission he is admitting that he did not repay. Now if two witnesses come and say that he did repay, what do we do there?

[Speaker C] He has to pay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Even though there are witnesses that he repaid, because there is a litigant’s own admission that he did not repay. When they say a litigant’s own admission is like a hundred witnesses, they mean it is stronger than two witnesses. Usually two are like a hundred. But the expression “like a hundred witnesses”—why not say “like two witnesses”? They want to tell you that it is stronger than two witnesses, that it overcomes two witnesses. Okay? Even if two witnesses come against the admission of the litigant, it won’t help. Okay? Why? Because regarding yourself, the credibility is absolute. Fine? The religious court does not necessarily view it as objectively certain credibility, but regarding yourself the credibility is absolute. By the way, from here, for example—I once wrote about this in another context—we know that people generally understand that a litigant’s own admission is credibility. Like a hundred witnesses—you are really believed. The Ketzot even wants to say that perhaps it would work even for betrothal, in the sense of witnesses needed for establishing the matter. He argues with the Rashba. What? No, not obligation—credibility.

[Speaker G] Is a litigant’s own admission an obligation?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s credibility. It’s credibility; he is not obligating himself to anything. He is believed regarding the fact that he did not repay. And therefore, since this is credibility like a hundred witnesses, if there were a litigant’s own admission regarding betrothal, the Ketzot wants to say that perhaps the betrothal would take effect. The Rashba says no; they discuss various things there—perhaps because it adversely affects others—but were it not for adversely affecting others, he would be believed. Fine? Except for one thing: that credibility is subjective credibility. What happens if it adversely affects others? For example, in a case where the man and woman both say, “We were betrothed,” then there is a litigant’s own admission from both sides. Yes, but it adversely affects others, because now she forbids her relatives and creates all kinds of consequences for other people. Meaning, betrothal is a status, laws of personal status; it has public consequences. Okay? So that adversely affects others. Therefore the Ketzot indeed says that this would not help for betrothal, because it is a litigant’s own admission that adversely affects others. And the Ketzot says that were it not for adversely affecting others, a litigant’s own admission would function like witnesses. Why, when it adversely affects others, does it not help? Usually the conception is that your credibility goes down. A litigant’s own admission makes you very believable because a person does not usually hurt himself. If you hurt yourself, apparently you’re telling the truth. A kind of ultra-migo, yes—some obvious migo that you wouldn’t hurt yourself. If you hurt yourself, apparently you are speaking the truth. Okay? Now, if it adversely affects others, maybe you want to hurt others, and it is worthwhile to you even if “let my soul die with the Philistines.” Meaning, a person is prepared to hurt himself provided others get hurt too. Okay? Therefore you are not believed. So I want to claim that this is not right. A litigant’s own admission, like self-imposed prohibition, is subjective credibility. It is credibility, but only regarding yourself. If it adversely affects others, that is not because there is concern that your credibility is weaker, but because the whole domain of that credibility was stated only regarding yourself. Regarding others, you need the regular laws of testimony; after all, you are an interested party, you are one witness. It is irrelevant whether we believe you and whether you have a migo. We do not accept such testimony in a religious court. Regarding yourself, like self-imposed prohibition, regarding yourself you have absolute credibility as a litigant’s own admission. When it adversely affects others, you want objective credibility that will generate consequences for others as well—that you do not have. The credibility is subjective. Not because of these calculations, that you want to hurt someone or something like that. It is a delimitation of where the credibility was said to apply. The credibility was said only regarding yourself—it is subjective credibility. Like the law of self-imposed prohibition. And the law of self-imposed prohibition is absolute credibility like a hundred witnesses, but only regarding yourself. Therefore the discussion is only regarding yourself; the religious court will not do anything with it. But regarding yourself there is room to discuss what the force of that credibility is—whether it is like witnesses or not like witnesses. Okay, that is basically it. The point is that the law of self-imposed prohibition is very similar to a litigant’s own admission in that sense. By the way, in both of these places there is a famous Ketzot. In one place he argues with the Mahari ben Lev, and in another with—I don’t remember who the second one was, maybe the Maharalbach, I don’t remember anymore—whether this is credibility or obligation in the case of a litigant’s own admission. And in self-imposed prohibition, whether it is credibility or a vow. Forget it—not obligation and not a vow; that’s nonsense. It’s obvious that it is credibility. It’s just credibility in the subjective context.

[Speaker E] If both of them admit to the betrothal, who challenges it in front of the religious court?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, who challenges it? They are not betrothed.

[Speaker E] What do you mean—that there were two witnesses?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, they didn’t say there were two witnesses. They themselves want to be the witnesses; their own admission is itself the witnesses to the betrothal.

[Speaker E] But then we said that the witnesses…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, that’s what you said קודם. When I’m talking here about the Ketzot, the Ketzot is talking about a situation where a litigant’s admission would function as the witnesses for establishing the matter. Okay? So the Rashba says no, and the Ketzot says, why not? And then he says it’s difficult to say, but were it not for that, a litigant’s admission… The Rashba says that because you need witnesses to establish the matter, and a litigant’s admission is not witnesses that establish the matter. It’s very strong credibility, but it’s not witnesses. You need witnesses not in the sense of credibility; you need actual witnesses. A litigant’s admission is wonderful credibility, but it is not witnesses. You need witnesses. The Ketzot says no: a litigant’s admission is not wonderful credibility; it is witnesses. Therefore, in principle it could also help even for witnesses required to establish the matter, were it not for the fact that it is difficult to say. Okay? So what I want to say here is basically the same idea. When it says here that warning and seclusion yes, witnesses no. The Talmud asks: what do you mean? I’m not talking about witnesses, I’m talking about an open entrance. What do you want from witnesses? What does that have to do with witnesses? You can understand this in two ways. You can understand that an open entrance is like witnesses. With respect to himself, only with respect to himself. But with respect to himself it’s like witnesses. So if you tell me that warning and seclusion yes, open entrance no, then witnesses also no, because it’s the same thing. That’s the Talmud’s question. That’s one possibility.

But then it really comes out that an open entrance is like witnesses. Okay? Second possibility: no. You want to say that a woman becomes prohibited only through warning and seclusion. Okay? And anything else does not work, like an open entrance. So then witnesses also wouldn’t work? Not because an open entrance is like witnesses. An open entrance is not like witnesses. I’m only trying to prove to you that when Rabbi Elazar said that a woman becomes prohibited only through warning and seclusion, that’s not meant literally. It’s not only warning and seclusion to exclude all other cases. Otherwise even with witnesses she would not become prohibited. That can’t be. So then with an open entrance too—who told you it doesn’t work? Rabbi Elazar himself tells you that an open entrance is also the same kind of thing. According to this, an open entrance doesn’t have to be like witnesses. It only shows that warning and seclusion is not exclusive. The Tanna taught one case and omitted others; there are other things besides warning and seclusion. Okay? Those are two ways to understand whether an open entrance is like witnesses or not like witnesses.

So the Talmud answers: rather, this is what he means: a woman does not become prohibited to her husband through one witness, but only through two witnesses. But warning and seclusion—even with one witness as well—to her husband. And an open entrance is considered like two witnesses. He says: basically they explain Rabbi Elazar differently. He says a woman does not become prohibited to her husband through one witness, but only through two witnesses. And warning and seclusion, even with one witness, is also like two witnesses. And an open entrance is considered like two witnesses. Now the conclusion already is that an open entrance really is like two witnesses. Right? In what I said above in the question, that wasn’t certain; you could interpret it this way or that way. But here the Talmud says it is like two witnesses, although even here you could say it is like two witnesses in the sense that through this too she becomes prohibited. It does not have to be that the force of the self-imposed prohibition of the open entrance is like witnesses. I’m not sure you can prove that from here. Okay?

And if you say: as for the incident that occurred, why then did they not prohibit her? Fine, so if that is so, the incident that occurred did not involve warning and seclusion, but there were witnesses. Why didn’t they prohibit her? The Talmud says: there it was coercion. What? It was coercion with

[Speaker D] David. It’s not certain that it was. Why? There were witnesses there.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, aside from the four hundred men there—even she became prohibited… everyone saw, what do you mean? Before all Israel he took her, that’s not… before all Israel he took her, what do you mean? The king’s wife—she lives with the king. Why didn’t they prohibit her? The Talmud says: there it was coercion. What does that mean? Coercion—he gives

[Speaker H] her whatever he wants, and she remains permitted to Uriah? What are you talking about? Yes. Why was she not prohibited to Uriah?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Degradation through abuse of authority, or actual coercion—it doesn’t matter right now—but it is considered coercion. Since it is considered coercion, she does not become prohibited to Uriah, and therefore she was not prohibited. Okay? If that’s the case, then the fact that she was not prohibited was not because there was no warning and seclusion. Because there were witnesses there, so it cannot be that the absence of warning and seclusion is what created the situation; there were witnesses there. It was only because it was coercion. So the whole thing we said above falls away—that the incident that occurred proves that without warning and seclusion one does not become prohibited. Not true. It doesn’t have to be that way; rather, there it was simply coercion. But at the conceptual level, one does become prohibited even without warning and seclusion. Okay? So that is one possibility.

What does that actually mean? Notice: if it was coercion, then she was not prohibited to whom? To Uriah, right. What about David? What about David?

[Speaker E] But we said that it goes in pairs.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We said that, but what does the Talmud say? There’s room to discuss it, right? De facto we know the facts. She was not prohibited to David. Rashi above told us that all our proof that she was not prohibited to Uriah is because she was not prohibited to David, and it always goes together. But notice, there is a very major novelty here. We’ll see it later in the later authorities. He had relations with her by coercion. Uriah was an Israelite, not a priest. So if he had relations with her by coercion, she was not prohibited to Uriah. Right? But what about David? To say that he had relations with her by coercion means that now she will not become prohibited to him? If he had relations with her willingly, then she would become prohibited to him—if it was with her consent, yes? And from his side, obviously he had relations willingly, by his own will. She was coerced. So for her that is a leniency, but for him that should actually make it more stringent. So if when he has relations with her willingly she becomes prohibited to him, then when he has relations with her by coercion she certainly ought to become prohibited to him. And we see that she didn’t. Right? How do we see it? First of all because she was not prohibited to Uriah, and according to Rashi—not Rashi, the Talmud, Scripture—Scripture says that she was also not prohibited to David. And according to Rashi, the whole thing we know—that she was not prohibited to Uriah—is only because we saw that she was not prohibited to David. Okay?

So this basically means that if someone has relations by coercion with the wife of an Israelite, then not only is she not prohibited to her husband, she is also not prohibited to the man who had relations with her. Right? But if he has relations by coercion with the wife of a priest, then she becomes prohibited to her husband, and consequently she will apparently also become prohibited to the man who had relations with her. Right? Certainly the fact that he had relations with her by coercion does not make things easier for him. That is, that is not reasonable. Okay? We’ll see—it’s not even certain that this is true—but there is also a dispute among the halakhic authorities about this. But on the face of it, that’s what I would say now.

So basically what we see from here is a first indication that there is some necessary connection between the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer. If she is prohibited to the husband, she is prohibited to the adulterer, and vice versa. It always comes together. Okay? Therefore, if he had relations with her by coercion, even though logic would say to prohibit her to him even more than if he had relations with her willingly—with her consent, yes? From his standpoint it is always willingly. But the question is whether he coerces her. Okay? So I’m saying: if he coerces her, there would have been reason to be stricter with respect to him and certainly prohibit her to him. To the husband she remains permitted, because she was coerced; she did nothing. But with respect to the adulterer, it is stronger. What does it say? No. If she is permitted to the husband, she is permitted to the adulterer. Okay?

By the way, it’s clear that the indications run in the reverse direction from the causal relation. It’s always like that. We know that she was permitted to Uriah because she was permitted to David. That’s from our perspective as interpreters. But from the standpoint of the substantive law, it’s the opposite. Why was she permitted to David? Because she was permitted to Uriah! The fact that she was permitted to Uriah is the reason she was permitted to David, not because it was coercion. The fact that it was coercion is actually a reason to be stricter. Rather, because it was coercion she was permitted to Uriah, and therefore there is no basis to prohibit her to David either, because it always comes together. We—as interpreters—it’s like that in science too, you know. You bring proofs for some law, some rule, from an experiment. So from my standpoint the experiment teaches me about the law. But obviously in physics itself, the law determines the experimental results; the results do not determine the law. It’s just that I, as an interpreter, look at the experiment and from it learn about the law. But the law itself determines the results of the experiment; the experimental results do not determine it.

[Speaker E] Now let’s move on physically. Physically. He coerced her and therefore she is permitted and so on. What about the second time?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What was that? Second time?

[Speaker E] Again coercion? No, the beginning…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Always coercion, what do you mean? If it’s abuse of authority, then it’s always coercion. Yes, but as for a second adulterer, that itself is a question—whether he prohibits her. We’ll get to that too.

[Speaker E] What is the sanction in Jewish law for coercion? What do you mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he raped a married woman, they execute him. What do you mean, what is the sanction in Jewish law?

[Speaker E] And why did David come out clean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s the question. Why did David come out—soon we’ll see.

[Speaker E] Maybe… maybe because of a bill of divorce?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe… fine, we’ll see. If you want, say…

[Speaker C] If you want, say—that’s right.

[Speaker E] A question

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] what happened in a certain move

[Speaker C] where all this “why did David sin,” and that changes things, it changes things. To say “why did David not sin” is very strange.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean he didn’t sin? He raped a married woman. What do you mean he didn’t sin?

[Speaker C] Obviously the Talmud says here “if you want, say.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are two possibilities here. No, wait, wait, one second. This is… we haven’t yet gotten to the “if you want, say.” We need to see what the disagreement is between the two “if you want, say” answers.

[Speaker J] The move regarding someone who has relations with a priest’s wife, she is supposed

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] to become prohibited just as she

[Speaker J] became prohibited to him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If there is a connection between prohibition to the husband and prohibition to the adulterer, then there would be a practical difference also in the case of someone who has relations by coercion with a priest’s wife.

[Speaker J] On the other hand, a daughter of a priest who commits adultery, for example, is liable to a different death penalty than the man who had relations with her. So what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does that have to do with anything? She is executed by burning, right, so what? The prohibition is the same prohibition.

[Speaker J] What does the difference matter?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, the prohibition is the same prohibition. If she violated a prohibition, then he also violated a prohibition; the prohibition is always the same prohibition. The death penalty, the capital liability, is different.

[Speaker J] So it differs in the death penalty. So what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what? But the prohibition was violated. No, no, wait, the prohibition was violated,

[Speaker J] he violated the prohibition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The result of the prohibition—what punishment, how he is executed—that is something else. But the prohibition was violated, so there is no reason not to prohibit her to him. So in short, leave aside for a moment this issue of why, really, they did not execute David as someone who had relations with a married woman, okay? So the point is that there was coercion here. Since there was coercion, she was not prohibited—neither to Uriah nor to David.

[Speaker E] In all the later times as well, was it also coercion?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the later times it’s a different episode; that doesn’t matter right now. What difference do the later times make right now?

[Speaker E] No, because if the second time she already agreed, then she is already prohibited both to Uriah and to David.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but the second time is already after Uriah died, I assume, or it’s not even certain that it happened at all.

[Speaker J] And how did this get legitimized afterward, when her son Solomon the King—the Holy One, blessed be He, says to him…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s not connected. What do you mean “got legitimized”? The question is why—why did the Holy One, blessed be He, give it legitimacy? If the rabbinate or some rabbi gives certification to something that is pork, that does not make it kosher. If he gave certification, there has to be a reason why he gave certification. And that is exactly what he is asking: why did the Holy One, blessed be He, give this legitimacy? There was a problem here; this was adultery. Okay, so that “maybe”—that’s what he asked. What is that “maybe”? Maybe the Holy One

[Speaker J] blessed be He knows the innermost things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, that’s exactly what he is saying. So we need to understand what the Holy One, blessed be He, knew when He gave this approval. Okay, that is basically his question. Okay, and if you want, say: as Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani said in the name of Rabbi Yonatan, whoever goes out to the wars of the house of David writes a bill of severance for his wife, as it is written: “And you shall check on your brothers’ welfare and take their pledge.” What is meant by “and take their pledge”? Rav Yosef taught: matters mixed up between him and her. Okay, they learn it from the verses—that everyone who goes out to war under David gives his wife a divorce, a retroactive divorce. There was a proposal in Israel as well to do something like this; Rabbi Goren once proposed, it seems to me, that all soldiers before going out to war should give their wives a divorce, a conditional divorce, like one who goes out to the wars of David.

[Speaker L] Nowadays that can’t really work, because they sometimes come back between leaves and all these things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does that have to do with it? It’s a divorce only on condition that he dies, only on condition that he dies. If he doesn’t die, everything is fine—his wife remains his wife. Even if they brought him back to life there would be room to discuss it; there is that discussion, yes, with Elijah’s wife. Huh? Fine, okay, never mind. But in short, what does the “if you want, say” mean? What does it say? Why was she not prohibited? There were witnesses there. If warning and seclusion prohibit, then witnesses certainly prohibit. Why was she not prohibited? First answer: it was coercion. Second answer: retroactively it became clear that she was divorced. Right? He did not have relations with a married woman at all. After Uriah died, the divorce took effect retroactively, and then it turns out that he really did not have relations with a married woman. Everything is fine, right? Retroactively it became clear—retroactively it became clear—that from the moment she received the bill of divorce she was divorced. But the conditional bill of divorce

[Speaker E] takes effect from the moment he dies.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, once he dies he can’t divorce her. If he dies, she is already a widow; you can’t divorce her. The divorce is conditional: if I die, you are divorced from now. And you receive the divorce now, only on condition that if I die, but if I die it takes effect already from now, from the moment you received the divorce. Otherwise the whole thing doesn’t help. You can give a divorce an hour before death, fine; there are some somewhat different mechanisms. In any case, what is the difference between these two answers? According to the first answer, David sinned with the sin of adultery, right? She did not sin because she was coerced, but David sinned with adultery. He was in principle liable to death; he had relations with a married woman. Okay? According to the second answer, David did not sin at all; she was not a married woman. Therefore she was not prohibited either to the husband or to the adulterer, because she was not violated as a married woman. Okay? So there is no problem of why she was not prohibited.

Now here there is room to hesitate as to whether these two answers disagree with each other. One possibility—why do I say that? We will see later that the halakhic authorities indeed discuss the question whether there is a necessary linkage between the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer. One of the proofs they bring is from here: that if it was by coercion—the first answer—if it was by coercion, then since she was not prohibited to Uriah, and according to this answer she was a married woman, she was not prohibited to Uriah, and therefore she was also not prohibited to David. So from here there is proof that the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer are intertwined, and go together. We’ll discuss later why and how, but they go together.

But others argue against them: yes, but what about the second answer? It may be that it disagrees precisely on that point. Why did the second answer need another answer? Why was the first answer not satisfactory to it? Because it does not accept the necessary linkage between the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer. Because it is impossible that if he had relations with her by coercion, she would not be prohibited to him. If when he had relations with her willingly she is prohibited to him, then when he has relations with her by coercion it is even more severe. To the husband she would not become prohibited, but to him she would. So that can’t be—after all, David was permitted to live with her. How can that be? Therefore the second answer says no: you have to say that she was not a married woman. They gave a bill of severance to anyone who went out to the wars of the house of David.

[Speaker E] When he first came to her, he didn’t know that Uriah would die.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why do I care what he knew?

[Speaker E] No, but the divorce sort of validates an act that at the time of the act—what is this divorce business—so what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It validated it afterward. Whenever I make something conditional, that is a situation in which I do not know whether the condition will be fulfilled or not, but if it is fulfilled, my act is valid. This is not a pardon; it clarifies retroactively that there really was no sin here.

[Speaker G] with a married woman, no

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] we haven’t gotten to retroactive “fatherhood.”

[Speaker G] Huh? Like for example a woman who made a vow and her husband knew…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, there it’s that she doesn’t know—in the portion of Matot—“and the Lord will forgive her,” what was going on there?

[Speaker G] But there it turned out that she wasn’t…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] thought to eat pork and ended up eating lamb. The Talmud brings that. No, but that’s not connected here; there it’s not about the timeline. So the claim is that—that is, the question is whether the two answers disagree, and that matters. Because if the two answers disagree, then I always ask myself: what was unsatisfactory to the second answer about the first answer? A natural candidate for that point is this linkage between husband and adulterer. It is impossible, it is not reasonable, that if the adulterer had relations with her by coercion she would not become prohibited to him. If he had relations with her willingly she becomes prohibited; if he had relations with her by coercion she would not become prohibited? Therefore the second answer, the “if you want, say,” does not accept the first answer. That is one possibility. And then if I ask now, in conclusion, whether prohibition to the husband and prohibition to the adulterer are intertwined, that becomes a dispute between the two versions in the Talmud. The first version says yes; the second version does not accept that very point.

A second possibility is that the versions do not disagree with each other. They are simply two ways of resolving it. Both are true. There was also a bill of divorce there, and it was also by coercion. In other words, they are telling you: this could resolve it, and that could resolve it, but both things are true. Then it comes out that according to everyone, the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer come together. Even according to the later version, it does not contradict that. It says there was also a divorce, so you don’t have to get into that issue. But hypothetically, if there had not been a divorce, still, since it was coercion, it would have been fine.

[Speaker E] There’s also a practical difference regarding David’s own feeling. According to the second answer, he would not have been liable…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, you’re right, one second, I’m getting to that. So there is basically a dispute here about whether the two answers disagree or do not disagree. How do you decide whether the answers disagree or not? This is always an interpretive dilemma when there are two answers. Do we say they disagree or not? Usually the assumption—certainly of the sharp dialecticians—is that as soon as the second answer appears, they immediately ask what was wrong with the first answer, extract a dispute from it with practical differences, and you have a full formal lecture. But often that is not necessarily so. The second answer offers another option, but it could be that it accepts the first option too. It’s just telling you: know that there is another option. And what does that depend on? If the first answer is compelling, then the question really does arise: so what was wrong with it for the second answer? Especially if the second answer is not compelling—then why are you adding it? Apparently something is bothering you about the first answer. That’s just a general methodological lesson. Okay?

If the first answer is not compelling—if it is a novelty—then fine, it’s a novelty. It may be that I accept it, but you do not need to resort to that novelty, because I have a simpler explanation. For example, if I know that everyone who went out to the wars of the house of David gave a divorce to his wife—not because I am using that to resolve David’s case; I simply have that information, I know that this is what they used to do, and there is logic to doing it so as not to get into the problem of women whose husbands are missing and cannot remarry. Okay? So I know that independently. Then I say: look, what you are saying could be true, only there is no need to get there because there was a divorce here. If there had not been a divorce, you would be right; it still would have been fine because it was coercion. But there is no need to get there because there was a divorce. So therefore it depends on whether the answers disagree with one another or accept one another. A major practical difference is whether there can be a case where to the adulterer she is prohibited, while to the husband she is permitted, and to the adulterer she would be prohibited—for example when he had relations with her by coercion. Okay? We’ll see later that this is a dispute between Chelkat Mechokek and Beit Shmuel; there is a dispute among the halakhic authorities that depends precisely on this question, how we understand this “rather.”

One final comment, and with this I’ll end—your comment, which is indeed correct. The comment says this: according to the first answer, that it was coercion—if the first answer says they did not give… look, the second answer may accept the first. But regarding the first answer—it is hard to say that it accepts the second. Because if they gave a divorce there, then leave me alone about whether it was coercion or not coercion; she was not a married woman at all—what do you want? So that is strange. In a dialectical way you could say, fine, but even hypothetically if there had not been a divorce, there still was coercion here. Especially since there is a certain difficulty here of asymmetry between the husband and the adulterer. That asymmetry, not “the asymmetry.” So therefore I think it is fairly reasonable to say that the first answer accepts the second answer, and I have another proof for that. What is the proof? Otherwise King David would have been liable to death according to the first answer. Why didn’t they execute him? Fine, with kings of the house of David they do judge them. Kings of the house of David are judged.

[Speaker G] They didn’t execute them? I don’t know.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So therefore it seems that the first answer accepts the second answer. But the question of the halakhic authorities is whether the second accepts the first, not whether the first accepts the second. Right? Because the question is whether there is symmetry. The first says there is symmetry. If the second accepts the first, then the second also thinks there is symmetry. If the second does not accept the first, then the second may be saying that there is no symmetry. Even then you still have to discuss exactly what it does not accept, but let’s say it does not accept it on that point. Here I proved that the first accepts the second, not that the second accepts the first. Okay? From the fact that they did not execute King David. Okay, so therefore—from here on we will really enter into the halakhic authorities, and what will be important for our purposes is indeed to try to understand the relationship between the prohibition to the husband and the prohibition to the adulterer, which begins with these two answers of the Talmud here, and we’ll talk about that.

[Speaker H] Okay. In terms of chronology, did these two amoraim ever meet each other? Were they alive at the same time?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know who these two amoraim are. “If you want, say: as Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani said”—but who said “if you want, say”? It’s the editor of the Talmud, as it were, who just brought “say.” In my opinion—I don’t know.

[Speaker H] If they saw each other, talked? I don’t know, it’s like asking

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] who was the son of the husband of the anonymous wife. I don’t know, yes, I don’t know who the husband of the anonymous wife was, so how can I know who his son was?

[Speaker H] During their lifetime, where were they?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know. I don’t know who they are.

[Speaker H] Rabbi Yonatan and this one—Noach Horowitz.