The Commandments and Their Enumeration – Lesson 10
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- Defining Jewish law as deriving from command
- Greater is one who is commanded and does, and the two aspects of commandment and transgression
- Maimonides’ roots and the count of the commandments: command, classification, and essence
- The distinction between a positive commandment and a prohibition: a desirable state versus a negative state
- The ninth root in Maimonides: a positive commandment and a prohibition on the same issue are not duplication
- Five types of positive commandments
- Rabbinic commandments in the first root: the author of Halakhot Gedolot versus Maimonides, and the difficulty of “do not turn aside”
- The difference between Torah-level law and rabbinic law, and the two hats of the Sages
- The dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides about “do not turn aside” and leniency in cases of rabbinic doubt
- The source of obligation to rabbinic law as disclosure and not as command, and the Winnie-the-Pooh analogy
- Specification and branching out as a summary before continuing
Summary
General Overview
The text presents a summary of the first semester: Jewish law is defined as everything that emerges from command, and therefore verses of command are the “legislation” that establishes the Torah legal system. It explains the distinction between positive commandments and prohibitions not according to the mode of performance, but according to the portrayal of a positive state versus a negative state, and from this develops implications for the greater severity of a prohibition as against neglecting a positive commandment, and for the count of the commandments in Maimonides. It then classifies different kinds of positive commandments, and moves into Maimonides’ first root concerning rabbinic commandments versus the author of Halakhot Gedolot, setting up the question of the authority of the Sages to legislate versus to interpret, and the relation to “do not turn aside” through a distinction between specification and branching out.
Defining Jewish law as deriving from command
Jewish law is everything that emerges from command, and therefore commanding verses establish Jewish law, whereas descriptive verses do not establish it. Rashi’s very first comment on Genesis brings Rabbi Yitzhak’s question why the Torah did not begin with “This month shall be for you the beginning of months,” because in principle the Torah ought to contain only commandments, and anything beyond commandments requires explanation. The command functions as legislation, like the distinction between moral or logical danger and legal transgression that requires legislation; therefore without a commanding verse there is no halakhic “law.”
Greater is one who is commanded and does, and the two aspects of commandment and transgression
The Sages say that greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does, because in a commanded act there are both benefit and positive outcome, and also responsiveness to the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. Maimonides, as most commentators present him and as the speaker agrees, does not see commandments as arbitrary things, but as directed toward achieving something. In a transgression too there is both a harmful act and defiance of command, and therefore one who is not commanded and still does receives only the first aspect, without fulfillment of a command.
Maimonides’ roots and the count of the commandments: command, classification, and essence
In the eighth root, Maimonides determines that one does not count “negation of obligation” as prohibitions, and illustrates this with “she shall not go out as the slaves go out,” which is not a prohibition but a legal negation of the rule of emancipation through loss of limbs in the case of a Hebrew maidservant. The claim is that the word “not” can indicate either a negative command or the negation of a fact, and only a command creates a prohibition that can be violated through action. The count of the commandments includes only things explicitly commanded in the Torah, and in addition there are classification-roots that prevent duplication, such as the four species, which are counted as one commandment with four details, and the sacrificial laws in which slaughtering, sprinkling, receiving, and carrying are one procedure. Reasons for commandments are not included in the count, as in “he shall not multiply wives” which is a command, versus “and his heart not turn away” which is an explanation; and the first root defines that rabbinic commandments are not included in the 613 because they are not Torah-level.
The distinction between a positive commandment and a prohibition: a desirable state versus a negative state
The usual performance-based definition, that a positive commandment is fulfilled through positive action and a prohibition through passive refraining, is presented as incorrect, because there are prohibitions that require action, like “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood,” and prohibitions such as “do not place blood in your house,” which in practice obligate erecting a parapet. On the other hand there is a positive commandment like “on the tenth of the month you shall afflict yourselves,” which is fulfilled through not eating; therefore the difference is not activity versus passivity. The distinction is that in a positive commandment the Torah portrays a positive desirable state, and in a prohibition a negative state in which one must not be found. Therefore violating a prohibition is a frontal clash against the will of the Torah, whereas neglecting a positive commandment is simply not being in the positive state. The implication is that violating a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment, while fulfilling a positive commandment is greater than refraining from a prohibition; and the speaker presents this in a model of one, zero, and minus one: righteous, intermediate, wicked.
The ninth root in Maimonides: a positive commandment and a prohibition on the same issue are not duplication
In the ninth root, Maimonides determines that when the Torah repeats the same commandment, it is counted once, because the repetition is meant to reinforce its importance. Maimonides counts a positive commandment and a prohibition of the same content as two commandments, such as the Sabbath, which has both “you shall not do any labor” and also an obligation to rest, because the prohibition defines a negative state and the positive commandment defines a positive state, even if their practical performance overlaps. The text argues that in every such pair one of them will appear “exceptional” according to the performance criterion, and therefore the performance criterion is not the main definition.
Five types of positive commandments
An obligatory positive commandment is one that can be fulfilled and can also be neglected, like tefillin, where putting them on is fulfillment and not putting them on is neglect of a positive commandment. A fulfillment-based positive commandment is one that can be fulfilled, but whose neglect is not itself a transgression of neglecting a positive commandment, and the text presents the difficulty in examples such as charity and Torah study, where there is a positive minimum threshold and beyond it additional fulfillment. A dispute is brought regarding the commandment of settling the Land of Israel: Rabbi Moshe Feinstein presents it as fulfillment-based, and Rabbi Avraham Shapira writes against him that there are no commandments that are entirely fulfillment-based. A prohibition inferred from a positive commandment is described as a positive commandment that can be neglected but cannot be fulfilled as an act of commandment-fulfillment, such as “the produce of the land shall be for you to eat,” expounded as “to eat and not for commerce” and “to eat and not for destruction,” and the Talmud rules that a prohibition inferred from a positive commandment is a positive commandment. A “definitional” positive commandment is presented as a halakhic procedure involving neither fulfillment of a commandment nor neglect of one, and Maimonides gives examples like annulment of vows and ritual impurities, where the act merely defines a status and its consequences are counted separately. A conditional obligatory positive commandment is defined as one that can be fulfilled and can be neglected, but whose obligation applies only when a condition is met; the central example is tzitzit, and likewise Grace after Meals and eating in a sukkah beyond the first night.
Rabbinic commandments in the first root: the author of Halakhot Gedolot versus Maimonides, and the difficulty of “do not turn aside”
Maimonides argues against the author of Halakhot Gedolot that rabbinic commandments such as Hanukkah and Purim are not included in the count of the 613, both because the count would balloon into the thousands and because the Talmud in Makkot says that 613 were said to Moses at Sinai. The text presents the possibility that the objection is a classificatory one, since everything is included in “do not turn aside,” but argues that it is unlikely that Maimonides is limiting this merely to classification; rather, he sees this as an essential claim that these are not Torah-level laws. A passage is cited from Maimonides in the Laws of Mourning 14, where commandments such as visiting the sick and comforting mourners are called “positive commandments of their words,” even though they are “included in ‘love your neighbor as yourself,’” and the text rejects the reading that this is wholly Torah-level, distinguishing between the general commandment of love and the practical content that the Sages cast into the form of enactments, allowing rabbinic fulfillment even without actual love in practice.
The difference between Torah-level law and rabbinic law, and the two hats of the Sages
The text states that the distinction between Torah-level and rabbinic law is not chronological, but depends on whether there is a source in the Torah. As an example, it brings opening bottles on the Sabbath as a possible Torah-level prohibition created today, if it falls under one of the categories of labor; while, on the other hand, Moses’ enactments of public Torah reading are rabbinic even though they are ancient, because they have no source in the Torah. The Sages operate with two hats: as interpreters, who derive law from the Torah and whose product is Torah-level, and as legislators, who create enactments and decrees without a source, and whose product is rabbinic. Most of the Torah-level laws we have are not written explicitly in the Torah, but were generated in the interpretive process of the Sages, and only a small number of explicit laws are “laws even the Sadducees agree with.”
The dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides about “do not turn aside” and leniency in cases of rabbinic doubt
Maimonides grounds the obligation to obey the Sages in “do not turn aside,” and Nachmanides attacks this by arguing that if so, every rabbinic prohibition would become a Torah prohibition; for example, a doubtful case of fowl cooked in milk should then have to be treated stringently if it were a doubtful Torah prohibition. Nachmanides interprets “do not turn aside” as granting the Sages authority to interpret the Torah but not to legislate, so that interpretation such as expanding “do not cook a kid in its mother’s milk” to eating and deriving benefit is Torah-level, whereas enactments and decrees do not derive directly from “do not turn aside.” The Minchat Chinukh is cited as claiming that it is preferable to feed a sick person on the Sabbath something explicitly prohibited in the Torah rather than something prohibited through an exposition, because in the latter case one supposedly violates both the prohibition and also “do not turn aside”; and the text rejects this, arguing that “do not turn aside” is not an independent prohibition, but means that the interpretation is the content of the verse.
The source of obligation to rabbinic law as disclosure and not as command, and the Winnie-the-Pooh analogy
The text sets up a “short blanket” problem: if we find a legislative source for the obligation to obey the Sages, then it becomes Torah-level, and if there is no source, then there is no reason to obey; therefore a solution is needed in the form of a source that is not a command but a disclosure. It brings a view of later authorities according to which one violates “do not turn aside” only when the noncompliance stems from principled nonrecognition of the authority of the Sages, similar to the law of the rebellious elder, but argues that even then there remains a need to define real force for rabbinic prohibition. The analogy of “criminals will be punished” from Winnie-the-Pooh clarifies that a verse of that type presupposes in the background an existing system of crimes, and therefore “do not turn aside” indirectly reveals that there is a category of rabbinic prohibitions with binding force even though they are not Torah commandments. It compares this to “and the man Moses was exceedingly humble,” from which we learn that the Torah values humility without explicitly commanding one to be humble; thus “do not turn aside” teaches that obedience to the Sages is viewed favorably by the Torah without turning every rabbinic prohibition into a Torah prohibition.
Specification and branching out as a summary before continuing
The text concludes that the Sages as legislators create rabbinic laws that branch out from “do not turn aside” through an interpretive process, but are not specifications of that prohibition; therefore eating fowl with milk is not a “mode” of violating “do not turn aside,” but a separate rabbinic prohibition. It distinguishes between specification, such as the thirty-nine categories of labor as the detailed content of “you shall not do any labor,” or applications of “he shall not profane his word” according to the content of the vow, and branching out, where a new category arises from force disclosed by the verse but is not explicitly commanded in it. It states that the next lecture will present a parallel move concerning the Sages as interpreters in relation to laws that emerge from expositions.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Good. I’ll begin just with a summary, a summary of what we did in the first semester, so that at least you’ll get some kind of overall picture. I said, you can fill in the rest by… listening to the recordings. I began with an introduction, a general introduction to what Jewish law is. Because we’re talking about commandments and their prevention. The commandments are basically the skeleton of the halakhic world. And so I first gave the definition of Jewish law in general. The claim—I’ll do it, I’ll say what I said, but briefly—the claim is basically that Jewish law is everything that emerges from a command. It sounds like a somewhat empty definition, but it has a lot, a lot of significance, and it prevents a lot of confusion. Everything that emerges from command. Meaning, if we look at verses in the Torah, there are verses that are commanding verses and there are descriptive verses, verses that describe. The commanding verses are basically the verses that establish Jewish law. I mentioned Rashi’s first comment at the beginning of Genesis, where he brings there—yes—Rabbi Yitzhak asking why the Torah did not begin with “This month shall be for you the beginning of months,” because that is the first commandment in the Torah. So what? Why did it have to begin with the first commandment in the Torah? Because in principle the Torah is supposed to contain only commandments. Right? That’s basically what he assumes. Anything beyond commandments requires an explanation for why it appears there. Yes? An explanation, let’s say, not one of the more convincing ones, I would say, but in my eyes the question teaches more than the answer. The question basically teaches us that Torah, from the language of instruction, is at its core Jewish law. Now, other things were added to the Torah itself. There’s a proposed explanation there, you can propose other explanations, that doesn’t matter right now, but other sections were added to the Torah. That basic section that was originally supposed to be the only one there—the section of command—that is basically what is called Jewish law, or from that begins what is called Jewish law. So that means, basically, why is command so essential to the definition of Jewish law? So the example would be this: suppose there were no law forbidding people from going through a red light. But in practice, people would stop at red and go at green, because it’s dangerous to go through red. Factually it’s dangerous. But there was no law forbidding going through a red light. So someone who went through a red light did something unreasonable, improper, wrong. But he did not break the law. Why not? Because there was no law. For something to be defined as law, and for someone who violates it to be an offender in the legal sense—not just in the moral, logical, human, whatever sense—for that you need legislation. Without legislation, it’s not law. The same thing in Jewish law. Meaning, that’s why at the foundation of Jewish law there have to be verses of command. Because the command is basically the legislation. When the Torah gives some command, it is thereby legislating that thing as part of the Torah legal system, the halakhic legal system, the Torah legal system which is basically Jewish law. One of the implications of this is understanding what the Sages say, that greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does. Because the one who is commanded and does basically also has the value or benefit that comes from doing the commandment. The commandment we were commanded in comes to achieve something; it’s not just some arbitrary matter. Maimonides’ claim—as most commentators say, and I personally agree with them—it’s not reasonable that these are just arbitrary things. So if I fulfill a commandment, I actually did two things. A: I did a good act, it has some positive consequences, positive results. B: I fulfilled the command. Meaning, I responded to the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. I fulfilled my obligation. Same thing if I commit a transgression: then A, I did an act that brings some kind of damage, a problematic result. B, I defied the word of the Holy One, blessed be He. All right? I did not respond to the command. So in every act of commandment or transgression there are two aspects. One who is not commanded and still does it and fulfills that commandment—he has only the first aspect. Right? He did an action that has some positive value, but he did not fulfill a command because he wasn’t commanded. Therefore greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does. Okay? Not because of all the nice homilies about the evil inclination and all that. I think it’s a much simpler explanation; Tosafot, the Rosh, and the Ritva say this. I think that’s the straightforward explanation. As an example of this point, I brought Maimonides’ words in the eighth root. Maimonides’ roots in general accompany us throughout this series, because in these roots Maimonides in one way or another defines the concept of commandment. And of course, the counting of the commandments as a result of that, so this is perhaps the most constitutive, most foundational source on which I’m building this series. In the eighth root Maimonides speaks about how we do not count the negation of a command. For example, the case he brings: “she shall not go out as the slaves go out.” That on the face of it looks like a verse of prohibition, right? “She shall not go out as the slaves go out,” “you shall not eat with leaven the blood of My sacrifice.” So there is apparently a negative instruction—yes, that’s a prohibition. But no, says Maimonides, this is negation of obligation, not a prohibition. The word “not” can appear in the context of a command—don’t do something—and it can appear in a negating context. Meaning, there is a Canaanite maidservant, such-and-such rules apply to her; to a Hebrew maidservant the rules of a Canaanite maidservant do not apply—“she shall not go out as the slaves go out.” It’s not that someone who does this in the case of a Hebrew maidservant violates a prohibition. He did not violate a prohibition. It simply doesn’t happen there. That law does not exist there, that rule of emancipation through loss of limbs does not apply to a Hebrew maidservant. That’s Maimonides’ example: “she shall not go out as the slaves go out.” This sharpens the point, and he has a whole introduction there on the matter, I’m not going back into the details now, that the word “not” can appear in the Torah with two meanings. One meaning is a negative command—don’t do something. The second meaning is to negate some fact. It can negate a fact: the sun is not shining now, or I am not twenty-four years old, so that’s negating a fact. There is also negation of a law. Meaning, emancipation through loss of limbs does not apply to a Hebrew maidservant. That is still negation. Because in order for “not” to be a prohibition, it has to command me not to do something. And therefore when I violate it, I have violated a prohibition, because I did something I was told not to do. “She shall not go out as the slaves go out” does not tell me not to do something. Do whatever you want, only know what the implications are: she does not go out as slaves go out, okay. Therefore Maimonides says that negation of obligation is not counted in the count of the commandments. For me, what matters about this is only that it’s an example of the fact that when we ask what is a commandment or what is Jewish law, the criterion is a criterion of command. We need a verse that commands the matter in order for that thing to be part of Jewish law—the command, of course, can be divided into positive commandments and prohibitions. I spoke about the count of the commandments in general—what the count of the commandments includes, the 613 commandments basically according to Maimonides. The count includes things that are first of all commanded, and the command has to be an explicit command in the Torah. We’ll see later today an implication of that, but that’s not enough. These things also must not be included in another commandment; it shouldn’t just be duplication. Yes, there are roots of classification and categorization of commandments. For example, the four species: etrog, lulav, myrtle, and willow. You can say these are four positive commandments; you can say this is one positive commandment with four details. Maimonides argues that this is one positive commandment with four details. So here is an example of a rule in the count of the commandments that is not related to the question of whether this thing is a Torah-level commandment or not. All of these are Torah-level commandments. The whole question is how many commandments are counted here in the count of the commandments, which is why I call these roots of classification. These are not roots that tell me: this is not a commandment and therefore it won’t enter the count of the commandments. It is a commandment, but in terms of classification it’s not four commandments but only one commandment. In contrast, for example, there are roots that say I do not include the reasons for the commandments. Yes, where the Torah says, for example, regarding a king, “he shall not multiply wives for himself, and his heart not turn away.” “He shall not multiply wives for himself” is a command. “And his heart not turn away” is an explanation. Why shall he not multiply wives for himself? So that his heart not turn away, okay. Reasons do not enter the count of the commandments. Why? What do you mean, it’s a reason, so what isn’t fulfilled here? Right, there is no command. “And his heart not turn away” is not a command, it’s an explanation. In a certain sense it’s negation of obligation, a bit connected to what I talked about earlier. Okay, so the reason does not enter the count of the commandments. There are other roots of classification—for example, commandments that apply over many days are counted as one commandment; commandments that apply during the intermediate days of a festival. He doesn’t count seven commandments or eight commandments on Sukkot or on Passover, but one commandment, even though it repeats over several days. So for example this is another rule of Maimonides; in the third root and the thirteenth root there are things related to time dependence. There are parts of the sacrificial service, for example, where Maimonides says: slaughtering, sprinkling, receiving the blood, and carrying it are four parts of the offering, but not each one is a separate commandment. This is one procedure that is a commandment with various details or components. Therefore those are roots that are roots of classification. There are roots that are roots of essence. What does that mean? Roots that say: this thing is not a positive commandment because it is not a positive commandment—not because of classification, but because it is not a Torah prohibition or not a Torah commandment. One of them, for example, is what I said before—the reasons. A reason is not a commandment because it is not a commandment, because there is no command about it. Another example we saw at the end of last semester is what Maimonides writes in the first root regarding rabbinic commandments. He says that the author of Halakhot Gedolot brings rabbinic commandments and includes them in his count of the 613—Hanukkah, Purim, and the like. Maimonides says no, that does not enter the count of the commandments because it is not a Torah-level commandment; it is a rabbinic commandment. That too is an essential root, not a root of classification. An essential root is a root that says there is no Torah-level commandment here, so it won’t enter—not because it’s included in something else or because I split it or combine it with something else. It does not enter the count of the commandments because it is not a commandment. So that’s an example of roots that are essential. After that I spoke about the difference between positive commandments and prohibitions. Usually when I ask people, for example, what the difference is between a positive commandment and a prohibition, usually people answer: a positive commandment expects me to do something; a prohibition forbids me to do something or expects me not to do something. Or in other words, a positive commandment is fulfilled through positive action and neglected through passive inaction. Let’s take tefillin. So how do I fulfill the commandment? I do an action, I put on tefillin. How do I neglect the commandment? I desist, I don’t do an action, I’m passive, okay, I don’t put on tefillin. So that is a positive commandment. In prohibitions it’s the opposite. Fulfilling the commandment—that is, responding to the command—is through passive refraining, through not acting. Say, “you shall not do any labor on the Sabbath.” So how do I fulfill that prohibition? I do not do labor. Meaning the prohibition is something fulfilled through passive inaction and violated through positive action—the opposite of a positive commandment. That is usually the accepted definition; I called it the performance-based definition. Meaning, what distinguishes a positive commandment from a prohibition is the mode of performance. When the performance is active, it’s a positive commandment; when the performance is passive and by omission, it’s a prohibition. But that’s not true. There are positive commandments whose fulfillment is passive, and there are prohibitions whose fulfillment is active. For example, “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood.” What does that mean? I see my friend drowning in the river, just someone drowning in the river, okay—what does that prohibition tell me? “Do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” is a prohibition—what is it telling me? Save him, right? Meaning, in order to fulfill the prohibition, or to avoid violating the prohibition, I have to do something, not refrain from doing something. So why is it a prohibition? If the definition of a prohibition is that you fulfill it passively, by refraining, then why is this a prohibition? This is a positive commandment, right? There are many examples of this. For example, “do not place blood in your house.” What must one do in order not to violate that prohibition? Build a parapet—“you shall make a parapet for your roof,” right? So again we see a prohibition that in order to fulfill it requires active action. So why is it a prohibition? It ought really to be a positive commandment, not a prohibition. There are also opposite examples. For example, “remember” and “observe” on the Sabbath; the commandment of resting on the Sabbath, or the commandment of affliction—“you shall afflict yourselves” on Yom Kippur—that is a positive commandment, right? “On the tenth of the month you shall afflict yourselves,” that is a positive commandment. There is no “not” there, and in prohibitions the rule is that a key word has to appear in the Torah: “beware,” “lest,” “do not,” and “not.” The word “not” I don’t even mention because that’s obvious, but “beware,” “lest,” “do not,” or “not”—those are the key words. If those words are not there, it is not a prohibition. Okay, now what happens with “on the tenth of the month you shall afflict yourselves” on Yom Kippur? There is no “not” there. And it is phrased as a positive commandment, but what does it require of me? Not to eat and not to drink. Okay, so this is a positive commandment fulfilled by omission, fulfilled through passive refraining. So why is this a positive commandment? It should have been a prohibition, a ban on eating on Yom Kippur. Why is it a positive commandment? And there are many more commandments like this. And that raises the question: so what actually is the difference between a positive commandment and a prohibition? Apparently the performance-based distinction is not the distinction. So what is? So I said that what I think the difference between a positive commandment and a prohibition is, is whether the Torah points to a state that is desirable in its eyes, or whether it points to a state that is undesirable in its eyes. Now, to point to—here’s the example I brought for this. Suppose the Torah were to tell me: I do not want you not to honor your parents. All right? What would that be, a prohibition or a positive commandment? It would be a prohibition, right? But there is a double negative here. In the end that is completely equivalent to saying: I want you to honor your parents. How can it be that two statements that are logically equivalent to one another, that have exactly the same content, one is a prohibition and the other is a positive commandment? Something doesn’t make sense here. So indeed there is an article by the late Aharon Shemesh—he was here in the Talmud department. He says that in the early generations, in the earlier strata of the Talmud, the difference between positive commandments and prohibitions was performance-based. But in the later strata it started to become a linguistic difference, according to the wording in the Torah. If the wording in the Torah is “beware,” “lest,” “do not,” or “not,” then it’s a prohibition. If it’s active wording, then it’s a positive commandment. But that doesn’t necessarily have to do with performance. For example, “you shall afflict yourselves”—that’s active wording, but it’s clear that what it requires of me is not to do something, not to eat. Okay, so the wording of the Torah is basically the criterion; it’s a linguistic criterion and not a performance criterion. But I commented on that that the linguistic criterion can be a sign, but it is not the reason. Just the fact that the Torah formulates something in a certain way gives us an indication that this is a positive commandment or a prohibition. But I still ask myself why the Torah formulated it this way and not that way. If it has the same content, then why should the wording make any difference? Okay? So my claim was, first of all, on the logical level, simply, it is not true that “I do not want you not to honor your parents” is logically equivalent to “I want you to honor your parents.” When you have “not,” okay? Mathematicians know—you have three operators A P A, A B A, so you can’t switch the B and the A around; no, it’s not equivalent to A A B. “Not not want.” There is a difference between “I do not not want” and “I do not want you not to.” That is not the same thing. The “not” and the “want” are not commutative; they cannot trade places. Okay? Now “I do not not want” is basically “I want,” but “I do not want you not to” is not the same thing. Think about it also on the level of linguistic meaning—it’s not the same thing. If I tell you, “I do not want you not to be in Tel Aviv,” what does that actually mean? It means I have—that is, I have a problem with a state in which you are not in Tel Aviv. I don’t know if I want you to be in Tel Aviv, but outside Tel Aviv is where I don’t want you to be. Right? But if I tell you, “I want you to be in Tel Aviv,” then what I want is that you be in Tel Aviv, not that I have a problem with your not being in Tel Aviv. True, if you’re not in Tel Aviv, then you’re not in the desirable state, you’re not in the place I want you to be. So that’s an indirect problem, but it’s not a frontal clash with what I told you. I told you I want you to be in Tel Aviv, and you’re in Petah Tikva. Okay? There are irrational people. So you’re in Petah Tikva. If you’re in Petah Tikva, then I don’t have a problem with the fact that you’re in Petah Tikva; I have a problem with the fact that you’re not in Tel Aviv, because I want you to be there. Okay? In contrast, if I tell you, “I do not want you to be in Petah Tikva,” and you’re in Petah Tikva, then that is a frontal clash with my will. That’s not an indirect clash. It’s not just that, as a consequence, you didn’t do what I wanted; rather here you are going directly against what I asked of you, or commanded you. That is the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment. In positive commandments the Torah paints for me the state in which it wants me to be. I want you to be in Tel Aviv. Now, not being in Tel Aviv is failing to fulfill the Torah’s will, but it is not going against the Torah’s will. I was not in the state that the Torah painted as the state in which I ought to be, the positive state. But if the Torah had told me: I forbid you to be in Petah Tikva, don’t be in Petah Tikva. Okay? And I am in Petah Tikva, then here the Torah has painted a negative state. Being in Petah Tikva is negative. It is not just failing to be in the positive state of being in Tel Aviv; it is being in a negative state. And when I was in Petah Tikva, that means I am in a state that the Torah defines as negative. That is a frontal clash against the Torah’s will. So you can also understand why violating a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment. Because violating a prohibition is going directly against the Torah’s will. Say if I tell you, I would very much want you to study history, and you didn’t go study history—okay, so you didn’t do what I very much wanted, but you didn’t go against what I want. Right? If I told you under no circumstances should you go study physics, and you went and studied physics, clearly you went directly against what I expected of you. Not just indirectly failed to do what I want. Notice that this has nothing to do with whether you violate the transgression by action or omission. The positive or negative state can be defined as a state in which I do something or as a state in which I refrain from something. For example, when the Torah says “you shall afflict yourselves” on Yom Kippur, since the wording is without “not,” “beware,” “lest,” “do not,” and so on, then that is a positive commandment. Right? But what does that mean, a positive commandment? A positive commandment says this: fasting is the desirable state. “You shall afflict yourselves” is a positive commandment. A positive commandment points to the desirable state. If I eat, then I did not do something negative; I simply was not in the positive state. The positive state is to fast, and I did not fast. The eating is not the problem; what is problematic about it is only what it is not—it is not fasting. That’s the problem. Eating as such is not a problem; the problem is only that I did not fast. Okay? Therefore it is a positive commandment, even though notice that to fulfill this commandment I fulfill it by omission, by not eating. So why is it a positive commandment, I asked? In a positive commandment I’m supposed to do something. No. In a positive commandment I’m supposed to be in a state that the Torah defines as positive. Whether that being-there is by active action or passive action doesn’t matter; it’s whatever the Torah defines. Therefore there can be a positive commandment that commands me to do, and a positive commandment that commands me to refrain. There can be a prohibition that forbids an action and a prohibition that forbids an omission. There is no connection whatsoever. The difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment is not whether it is action or omission, but whether the Torah paints a positive state or paints a negative state in which it does not want me to be. That is the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment. And from here you can see all the implications of the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment. That is why violating a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment, because you are in a negative state. Neglecting a positive commandment is simply not being in the positive state. You might call it a neutral state. You are not wicked, you’re just not righteous. If you violate a prohibition, then you are wicked. Being wicked is more problematic than not being righteous. But fulfilling a positive commandment is greater than refraining from violating a prohibition. Right? Because when I fulfill a positive commandment, I am righteous; when I refrain from violating a prohibition, I am not wicked. To be righteous is greater than not being wicked. You can represent it as one, zero, and minus one. One is righteous, minus one is wicked, zero is neutral, intermediate. Okay? A positive commandment says to me: this is a state such that whoever is in it is at level one. Whether he does or doesn’t do in order to be there doesn’t matter—some state such that whoever is in that state has value one, is righteous. If you weren’t there, then you are not righteous, but not wicked either. You weren’t in a negative state; you simply weren’t in the positive state, so you are in the zero state. Okay? In contrast, if the Torah says, I don’t want you to eat pork, then someone who eats pork is in a negative state, a state of minus one. If I did not eat pork, I refrained from violating the Torah’s prohibition, then I am not righteous; I am just not wicked. I was not in the minus-one state; I was in the zero state. Okay? Therefore refraining from violating a prohibition is less great than fulfilling a positive commandment, because it’s zero versus one. But violating a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment. Therefore neglecting a positive commandment is lighter, because violating a prohibition is minus one—it is being wicked. Neglecting a positive commandment is zero, just not being righteous enough. Okay? That is basically the difference between a prohibition and a positive commandment. I went on at length there, but I’m just summarizing here. Therefore Maimonides, for example—again, back to Maimonides’ roots—in the ninth root Maimonides writes that when the Torah repeats the same commandment several times, we count it once. Since in the end it’s the same commandment, only the Torah repeats it several times, Maimonides says the Torah repeats it in order to strengthen the matter, to show that it is important in its eyes. So if the Torah repeats a positive commandment several times or a prohibition several times, it is counted once. But if the Torah places a positive commandment and a prohibition on the same thing, that is not considered duplication—it is two commandments. The positive commandment is counted with the positives and the prohibition with the prohibitions. For example, on the Sabbath there is “you shall not do any labor” regarding doing labor on the Sabbath, and there is an obligation to rest on the Sabbath. It’s the same thing—not to do labor—but the obligation to rest is a positive commandment, and the prohibition against doing labor is a prohibition. Maimonides says: so on the face of it the content overlaps, but no—the positive commandment is counted with positives and the prohibition with prohibitions. These are two commandments, unlike the case in the ninth root: if it had been prohibition twice or positive commandment twice we would count one commandment. But if the duplication is between a prohibition and a positive commandment, we count two. Why? Because really a prohibition and a positive commandment are not duplication. In practice they are fulfilled in the same way, but from the standpoint of the prohibition, if I did labor on the Sabbath, then from the standpoint of the prohibition I am wicked. I was in a state the Torah forbade. But if there were only the positive commandment to rest on the Sabbath and I did labor, then I would not be righteous—meaning I didn’t rest on the Sabbath—but the doing of labor is not in itself a negative act; it is simply being in a state that is not the positive state. Okay? Therefore these are two different commandments, and Maimonides says, by virtue of the fact that one is a prohibition and one is a positive commandment—not because of differences between them; they are fulfilled in the same way—but because this is a prohibition and this is a positive commandment, they are counted as two commandments. That is not duplication. Okay? And you need to notice that every such pair of prohibition—there are many such pairs—of a prohibition and a positive commandment about the same thing, one of the two will always be pathological in logical terms. Right? Because if there is a prohibition and a positive commandment commanding the same thing, then if they command non-action, the positive commandment will be pathological: it’s a positive commandment that commands non-action. If both command action, meaning they expect me to do something, then the prohibition will be pathological, because it’s a prohibition that in order to fulfill it you have to do something. But whenever there is duplication—if the prohibition and positive commandment are defined over the same state—then clearly one of them has to be exceptional from the standpoint of the performance criterion, has to be exceptional. Eyal, right? This double-Eyal. Eyal, right? Geoinformatics, right? Geoinformatics? Lecturer Irena? Irena Reitzi. What are you studying? Mathematics. Double major? Mathematics and geoinformatics. What year? First year, we’re three years. You’re really a crowd. Geoinformatics is what, about twenty? Twenty-six I think. We had twenty-six. We also have forty. Wow. I heard it’s pretty good. Geoinformatics is just less work. He’s got seniority, you need a lot of motivation. Anyway, it was at the same time you studied. We both got to geoinformatics through the army. Geoinformatics is a lifesaver. I’m not even considering registering for that. I’m almost twenty-four, it’s just like… total lack of interest. And the whole GIS model is satellites and pictures from the Far East. You just decode what the satellite transmits. It’s not technology or anything. It’s not all just the army, it could be Kenya. On the other hand, no connection. Whoever wants that—what I talked about with a friend—computer science. Geoinformatics is half a computer science degree and half a geoinformatics degree. It’s all the same thing. Maybe they have knowledge, I still haven’t heard about it. Usually geoinformatics is not—it means they bring you satellite images and photos and that’s what you look at. Wow, that sounds just awful. Okay, sorry about the—so that’s regarding the relation between a prohibition and a positive commandment. After that, toward the end of the semester, I moved on to talk about different kinds of positive commandments. This is a summary of the first semester. How many kinds of positive commandments there are. So I distinguished there between five kinds, you could say. There is the basic positive commandment, which is an obligatory positive commandment. An obligatory positive commandment is a commandment such that when you fulfill it, you have fulfillment of a positive commandment, and when you don’t fulfill it, you have the transgression of neglecting a positive commandment. That is the ordinary positive commandment, yes, to put on tefillin. So if I put them on, I have a positive commandment; if I didn’t put them on, I have neglected a positive commandment. Okay? There are positive commandments such that if you fulfill them, then you have a positive commandment, and if you don’t fulfill them, nothing happened. That is called a fulfillment-based positive commandment. It is a commandment such that if you fulfilled it, then you fulfilled a positive commandment, but you can’t neglect it.
[Speaker B] “You can’t” meaning there is no transgression here of neglecting a positive commandment. Okay? So this is called a positive commandment—the first kind is an obligatory positive commandment, which can be fulfilled and can be neglected. A fulfillment-based positive commandment is a commandment that can be
[Speaker C] fulfilled, but cannot be neglected. Now, the examples of this are a bit tricky, because in most of the examples the commandment is basically obligatory but has a minimum threshold. For example, the commandment of charity: from a third of a shekel a year and upward, you’re not obligated to give. If you gave, you fulfilled the positive commandment of charity, but you’re not obligated to give. Up to a third of a shekel, you are obligated. So you can’t say that the positive commandment of charity is a fulfillment-based commandment. It’s an obligatory commandment: you are obligated to give charity, and if you didn’t give, then you have neglected a positive commandment.
[Speaker B] But there is a certain threshold from which onward, if you gave, then you have
[Speaker C] You have a commandment, and if not, then not. Or Torah study. Torah study—the Talmud says that by reciting Shema morning and evening, you fulfill the obligation of the commandment of Torah study. So someone who studies beyond that has a positive commandment, but someone who didn’t study hasn’t annulled a positive commandment. If you don’t have a chapter in the morning and a chapter in the evening, or Shema morning and evening, then you’ve annulled that positive commandment. Again, it’s not an entirely existential commandment; it’s an obligatory commandment that has a certain minimum threshold. Up to that point it’s obligatory, and from there on it’s existential. Okay? Are there commandments that are completely existential, where there’s no way at all to violate them by neglecting a positive commandment? That’s a dispute. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein writes that the commandment of settling the Land of Israel is like that. He explains why he remained in the United States, and he says that the commandment of settling the Land of Israel is an existential commandment. Meaning, if you immigrated to the Land of Israel, you have a commandment; and if you didn’t immigrate, nothing happened. And Rabbi Avraham Shapira writes against him: there is no—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —such thing, there are no such commandments in Jewish law.
[Speaker C] There are no commandments that are entirely existential. There are commandments with a minimum threshold, above which it’s existential, but there are no commandments that are wholly existential. Commandments are not recommendations—if you did it, then you did it, and if not, then you transgressed, you annulled the positive commandment. Okay? So that’s an example of a commandment that is entirely existential, but that’s disputed.
[Speaker B] In any case, this category—
[Speaker C] —of existential positive commandments—
[Speaker B] —is a category from a certain threshold and up.
[Speaker C] There is, for example, a prohibition implied by a positive commandment. So: we have a commandment that can be fulfilled and can be annulled. We have a commandment that can be fulfilled and cannot be annulled. Let’s continue combinatorially: there’s a commandment that cannot be fulfilled but can be annulled. What do you call that? No, that’s a prohibition. I’m talking about positive commandments. The Sabbatical year: eating Sabbatical produce—"for eating and not for commerce." That’s called a prohibition implied by a positive commandment. A prohibition implied by a positive commandment—for example, "And the produce of the land shall be for you to eat"; you mentioned Sabbatical produce. So the Talmud expounds: for eating and not for commerce, and for eating and not for waste. Now according to most views, eating Sabbatical produce is not a commandment. Someone who ate Sabbatical produce did not thereby fulfill a commandment. But he also didn’t ruin the produce. There is a prohibition against ruining the produce, but that prohibition is formulated in active language, not negative language. It doesn’t say "beware," "lest," or "do not." It says: "And the produce of the land shall be for you to eat." We infer: for eating and not for commerce, and not for waste. So that is called a prohibition implied by a positive commandment, and Jewish law rules in the Talmud that a prohibition implied by a positive commandment is treated as a positive commandment. So this is a type of positive commandment that basically tells me: you can violate this positive commandment if you ruin Sabbatical produce or if you trade in it, but you cannot fulfill this positive commandment. If you fulfill—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —this positive commandment, you do not have a positive commandment. That’s called a prohibition implied by a positive commandment. It resembles a prohibition, which is why it’s called a prohibition implied by a positive commandment, because it can be annulled and cannot be fulfilled, but it’s formulated as a positive commandment. And the last combination we still haven’t covered—what remains? A positive commandment that can neither be fulfilled nor annulled. So what can you do with it? Someone who fulfills it has no positive commandment; someone who annuls it has not annulled a positive commandment. So in what sense is it a positive commandment? Maimonides brings several commandments like these—positive commandments 95, 96, and onward—for example, the annulment of vows. Yes, the husband annuls, or the father annuls, his daughter’s vows; the husband annuls his wife’s vows on the day he hears them. Maimonides says: don’t think there is a commandment to annul vows, and also not a prohibition against not annulling vows or against annulling vows. There is neither a commandment nor a prohibition here. So why does it appear in Jewish law? What is the halakhic significance of this? It’s a halakhic procedure. Meaning, if you want the vow to be released, annul it on the day you hear it, and the vow is permitted. And if you did that, then the vow is permitted—it’s not that you fulfilled a positive commandment. If you didn’t do that, then the vow remains in force. That’s all. It has halakhic consequences, but the act in itself is neither a commandment nor a prohibition. But since it has halakhic consequences, it is counted in the enumeration of the commandments. Meaning, there are commandments—and Maimonides defines them for some reason as positive commandments, never mind—but there are positive commandments such that even if you fulfilled them, you have no commandment, and if you annulled them, you have not annulled a positive commandment. That is the definition of a halakhic procedure. Okay? So why does it appear in the enumeration of the commandments? The word "commandment" seems to mean that it commands us to do something; here it commands us to do nothing. Ritual impurity is like this too, Maimonides says. Someone who touches a corpse becomes impure. There is no prohibition against becoming impure and no commandment to become impure; it’s just that the definition is that you are impure. That has consequences: you may not eat terumah, you may not enter the Temple. But all those consequences are counted separately in the enumeration of the commandments. The very definition of you as impure after touching a corpse is a halakhic definition. It is not a commandment, but it appears as a positive commandment. That’s positive commandment 95. There it’s about a creeping creature; never mind—corpse impurity comes later. I think the appearance of this type of commandment in the enumeration of the commandments stems from the fact that in halakhic jargon, "commandment" means law. The Book of Commandments is a book of laws. Now, in a book of laws there are laws that legally define states of affairs—definitional laws. For example: for this purpose, a minor is someone who has reached age sixteen and up with regard to such-and-such laws. So that’s a section in the law book, but that section doesn’t command us to do anything; it defines a concept. It defines the concept of minor or adult. Okay? So—but it appears in the law book, it is law; it’s just definitional law and not commanding law. Now in the Book of Commandments, which is basically the halakhic law book, there are also definitional laws. They’re called commandments because that’s what we call laws. But it doesn’t really command me to do something, at least not directly. Okay? That’s why it appears in the Book of Commandments. Now there are various commandments where you can discuss where to classify them. For example, the commandment of divorce: a commandment to divorce one’s wife with a bill of divorce. How would you define that commandment? A definitional commandment, seemingly, right? A definitional commandment, because it says: if you gave her a valid bill of divorce and everything is in order, then you’re separated. If you did not give her a valid bill of divorce, you are still married.
[Speaker C] It’s simply a halakhic definition, it’s not—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is no commandment to give a bill of divorce and no prohibition to give a bill of divorce. Do whatever you want. But what you did—the Jewish law defines what the results are. In this specific case that’s apparently, at least according to some views, not correct. The Sefer HaChinukh, for example, writes at the end of the commandment in the portion of Ki Tetze: he writes that someone who violated this and divorced his wife with an invalid bill of divorce annulled this positive commandment, and his punishment is great. So this is something where you can annul the positive commandment. If you can annul it, then it is not a definitional commandment. A definitional commandment is one that can neither be fulfilled nor annulled. So I think the intention there—and that really requires a whole class, but briefly I’ll say—the intention there is that once you’ve decided to separate, then it has to be done properly. And if you did it improperly, then you have annulled a positive commandment. Not that everyone has to divorce his wife; but if you’ve decided to separate, then you have to give her a bill of divorce in order to permit her to the general public. You can’t separate while remaining connected by the bond of betrothal halakhically. You can’t have it that she is not permitted to the public but you’re not living together. That is a prohibition, that is an annulment of a positive commandment.
[Speaker B] What about the commandment to take back one’s divorced wife?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—it’s not clear what its precise status is, whether it’s a commandment or not a commandment. There’s a question about that. There’s no real source that it is a commandment. It’s not among the 613? It doesn’t appear among the 613. There’s no source for it. There’s no source—it’s one of those things that’s unclear where it suddenly came from. What about a commandment like tzitzit? If I’m not wearing a four-cornered garment, I don’t have to put tzitzit on it, right? How would you define that commandment? That too is definitional. It doesn’t fit simply into any of the definitions, right? Let’s see. How do you test it? Let’s check: can you fulfill this commandment? You can fulfill it, right? If you put them on, then I have a commandment. Can you annul this commandment? Yes—if I wear a four-cornered garment and don’t put tzitzit on it, then I’ve annulled this positive commandment. So simply speaking, it’s an obligatory commandment. An obligatory positive commandment: it can be fulfilled and it can be annulled. Why is it confusing? Because I can avoid entering the situation in which I am obligated in the commandment. If I don’t wear a four-cornered garment, then the commandment is not imposed on me at all. But that does not make this commandment—many people define it as an existential commandment: if you fulfill it, you have a commandment, and if not, nothing happened. That’s a mistake. It’s not correct. It is a conditional obligatory positive commandment. Because an existential positive commandment cannot be annulled, but tzitzit can be annulled. If you wear a four-cornered garment and don’t put tzitzit on it, you annulled a positive commandment. An existential positive commandment cannot be annulled. Here it can be annulled; it’s just conditional. It is conditional on your wearing a four-cornered garment. So it is a conditional obligatory positive commandment. That’s the fifth type. Think, for example, about Grace after Meals. How would you define Grace after Meals? A positive commandment, obviously. But which kind? Obligatory, seemingly, right? But if I didn’t eat to the point of satiety, I don’t need to recite the blessing. So that’s like tzitzit, right? But with Grace after Meals, unlike tzitzit, no one would think to say that it’s an existential commandment. Obviously, it is obligatory when you are in a situation where you are obligated in it. If you’re not in a situation where you’re obligated in it, then no—it doesn’t apply to you. Just as there are commandments that apply to priests and not to Israelites—that doesn’t make them existential. These are commandments that are conditional on certain conditions being met: you ate to satiety, you wore a four-cornered garment, and so on. Okay? Therefore this is the fifth type: conditional obligatory positive commandments. And are there really obligatory ones that are not conditional? Of course there are. Which? For example, honoring parents. If you don’t have parents? There’s no one who doesn’t have parents. At the moment you may not have parents, but when someone is born, he is born to parents. Today in a lab maybe? Not at the moment, right. No, that’s a time-dependent commandment. I’m talking about a commandment that I can exempt myself from. I can refrain from eating to satiety forever—that is, eat less than the required measure each time. If the commandment—Sabbath is also like that. On Friday I am not—
[Speaker B] —obligated to observe the Sabbath. Fine, formally you can also say that—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —it’s a conditional commandment, but that’s strange. You can’t arrange for there not to be a Sabbath—you’ll be in Sabbath. The question is how much control you have over it. Again, this isn’t really a halakhic definition; it’s what confuses people. Commandments like that, where it doesn’t depend on you—no one would think to call them conditional commandments. All right? You can define terms, but there are also the constant commandments, by the way—the six constant commandments that appear at the beginning of the Sefer HaChinukh and the Mishnah Berurah: "I set the Lord before me always," fear of Heaven, love of God. These are commandments that are not conditional on anything. You are always supposed, in principle, at every single moment, to do them—and of course not all of us do—but in principle you are supposed to do that every moment, and there are no circumstances that exempt you. What about eating in the sukkah on the first night? That’s an obligatory commandment. You must eat an olive-sized amount of bread in the sukkah. What happens afterward—during the intermediate days or the holiday itself? Then it’s definitional. So how would you define that? Definitional. If you eat to satiety, eat in the sukkah. Then do you have a commandment or not?
[Speaker C] You have a commandment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If you have a commandment, then it’s not definitional. A definitional commandment cannot be fulfilled—you don’t have a fulfillment of a positive commandment.
[Speaker C] If—if you—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —define it as having fulfillment of a commandment—
[Speaker C] —here, then it’s not definitional. Like tzitzit—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —basically. Right. Seemingly it’s like tzitzit—a conditional obligatory positive commandment. Okay? And someone who ate outside the sukkah is like someone who wore a four-cornered garment and didn’t put tzitzit on it, right? Because once you eat, then the obligation to do the act in the sukkah is imposed—
[Speaker C] —on you; the conditions have been met because—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —you decided to eat, so the commandment applies to you, and now the question is whether you did it or not. It’s a conditional obligatory commandment—
[Speaker C] —conditional on your eating. Okay? The same with slaughtering. If I want to… So that’s regarding types of positive commandments. Okay,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] now up to this point that was the general introduction, and from here on—
[Speaker C] —I—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —am going to start entering into specific topics in these matters. So the first topic, which I already dealt with at the end of last semester, is Maimonides’ first principle regarding rabbinic laws. Again briefly: Maimonides, against the Behag, says—the Behag counts some rabbinic commandments, Hanukkah, Purim, and the like. Maimonides says that rabbinic commandments are not included in the 613 commandments. You cannot count them in the enumeration of the commandments. He has various arguments. If we were to count rabbinic commandments, then the number of the 613 commandments would rise to many thousands. Just technically, it’s clear that this is not included in the 613 commandments, because if there are only 613, then that cannot include rabbinic commandments. And also the Talmud in Makkot, which is the source for there being 613 commandments, says: 613 commandments were said to Moses at Sinai. Rabbinic commandments were not said to Moses at Sinai. Therefore he has indirect proofs, let’s call them technical ones, for why rabbinic commandments cannot be included in the enumeration of the commandments. But of course in the background of his words there sits a substantive claim: rabbinic commandments are not included in the enumeration of the commandments—
[Speaker B] —because they are not commandments.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They are rabbinic commandments, but they are not commandments in the Torah-level sense—not that you don’t have to do them. You do have to do them, but it’s not a commandment in the sense of a Torah-level commandment. Except that this immediately begins to raise the problem: after all, there is "do not deviate." Why do we need to observe rabbinic commandments? It is forbidden to eat poultry with milk, right? That is a rabbinic prohibition. Meat with milk is Torah-level; poultry with milk is rabbinic. Why is it forbidden to eat poultry with milk? A rabbinic prohibition—the rabbis prohibited it. Why do we have to obey the rabbis? So what if they prohibited it? I too can prohibit all kinds of things. "Do not deviate"—at least that is Maimonides’ position, that it is based on "do not deviate." Well then, there is a command.
[Speaker C] So it is a commandment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But it is one commandment.
[Speaker C] What? Oh. So—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There would perhaps be room—
[Speaker C] —to say that Maimonides is really arguing against the Behag not—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —that it isn’t a Torah-level commandment. This principle is a classificatory principle, not—
[Speaker C] —a substantive principle.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He simply says: all rabbinic commandments—
[Speaker C] —are—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —really one Torah-level commandment, the prohibition of "do not deviate"; there is also a positive commandment, actually, "according to all that they instruct you," never mind. But it is one prohibition and one positive commandment. There is no point in counting each rabbinic commandment separately. And if so, then the first principle is among the classificatory principles and not among the substantive principles. And indeed in Maimonides, when you look at his arguments against the Behag, one of the examples he brings there is "love your neighbor as yourself." I’ll show you—
[Speaker C] —maybe here.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One of the examples he brings against the Behag—Laws of Mourning chapter 14. You see? Yes. "It is a positive commandment of rabbinic origin to visit the sick, comfort mourners, escort the dead, bring in the bride, accompany guests, and involve oneself in all burial needs: to carry on the shoulder, walk before him, eulogize, dig, and bury; and likewise to gladden the bride and groom and assist them in all their needs. And these are acts of lovingkindness done with one’s body that have no measure." So up to this point he lists all kinds of rabbinic commandments, right? "Although all these commandments are of rabbinic origin, they are included within ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’ Whatever you would want others to do for you, do for your brother in Torah and commandments." What is that ending? So is it Torah-level or rabbinic? "Love your neighbor as yourself" is a Torah-level positive commandment. And he himself also counts it. So if it is included in "love your neighbor as yourself," then why is it a positive commandment of rabbinic origin? It’s a Torah-level positive commandment. Fine, so what? Very often Torah commandments are the ones that the sages—
[Speaker C] —interpreted; most of them. There is a source here—if this is—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —actually derived…
[Speaker C] So if it’s derived, then—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —someone who fulfills these things, is he fulfilling a Torah-level positive commandment or a rabbinic one? So it’s Torah-level; it’s not rabbinic. And that is the source of "love your neighbor as yourself." Right? So—
[Speaker C] —why is it rabbinic?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, it comes from "love your neighbor as yourself," therefore it is Torah-level. It seems to me that what Maimonides is trying to say here is this. First of all, on a simple reading, it really sounds like these are not truly positive commandments of rabbinic origin, but rather rabbinic interpretations of the Torah-level positive commandment of "love your neighbor as yourself." How many commandments should we have counted? One, right? And this is simply a collection of different applications of the same commandment. Therefore if I interpret it that way, then Maimonides’ claim against the Behag is basically a classificatory claim. Rabbinic commandments are not to be counted, not because they are not Torah-level—they are Torah-level; it’s just that they are all one Torah-level commandment, namely "do not deviate." So don’t turn that into a collection of many rabbinic commandments. That’s his problem with the number, not with the very appearance of the commandments in the enumeration. But the truth is that Maimonides does not really seem to mean that. From his attack on the Behag, it seems he attacks him also over the very counting of rabbinic commandments, not only over classification. And indeed when you look here at Maimonides’ words, when he says "positive commandments of rabbinic origin," he says it’s rabbinic. It’s hard—it’s forced—to say that this is all really Torah-level. What he apparently means to say is this: the Torah basically commands "love your neighbor as yourself"—that you should love him. That is the commandment. It has nothing to do with the practical expressions of that love. The commandment is simply to love your fellow as yourself. Okay? Then the sages come and pour practical content into it. And they say: accompany a bride, comfort mourners, escort the dead, bring in the bride—sorry—and so on, accompany guests and the like. Now clearly all these actions are actions that express love. If you love someone, you care for him. You don’t harm him; you care for him, you help him, and so on. But that is not really identical with the commandment of "love your neighbor as yourself." Suppose someone accompanies guests not because he loves them, but because there is a rabbinic commandment to accompany guests—has he fulfilled the Torah-level positive commandment of "love your neighbor as yourself"? No. But he did fulfill the rabbinic commandment of accompanying guests. So there you have why this is a rabbinic commandment. True, if he accompanies them and also does so out of love for them, then he fulfills the Torah-level one as well—that’s true. But it is not true that there is no rabbinic commandment here and that all these commandments are really just different applications of the Torah-level commandment. No, that’s not correct. Okay? So if that’s the case, then Maimonides’ claim against the Behag—that it is incorrect to count rabbinic commandments—is not just a classificatory claim. It sounds like saying, okay, so there’s honoring parents, so pouring water is one commandment and preparing food is another commandment. Right—that’s classification, that’s the classificatory claim. Yes, but it’s not exactly classification because there, as with this one, he should say: don’t look at each thing individually. That’s the classificatory claim. Yes, but it’s understandable—that’s still a classificatory claim. As though that’s exactly what he objected to. I didn’t understand. That is the classification claim: that these are simply different ways of fulfilling the same positive commandment. So don’t count them as separate commandments; they should be classified as one commandment. Fine? It’s not like the four species. The four species are not four different ways of fulfilling the commandment of the four species. You need to take all four species in order to fulfill the commandment. Here, each application by itself constitutes a fulfillment of the commandment of "love your neighbor as yourself." But still that doesn’t change the fact that it is included in the commandment of "love your neighbor as yourself." So as I just said—no, it’s not included. Conceptually it draws from there, yes. But it’s not included. You can fulfill this rabbinic commandment without fulfilling the Torah-level commandment. And therefore these really are rabbinic commandments. So why not count them? Seemingly because there is no command concerning them—they are not Torah-level, they are rabbinic. But that of course raises the question: so why observe them? Why observe these commandments? If it’s for the other person, then it’s a Torah-level commandment. Then we’re back again to saying it’s Torah-level. Suppose "love your neighbor as yourself"—so you tell me: I accompany a bride without loving her, I accompany guests without loving them. So I haven’t fulfilled the Torah-level commandment; I fulfilled the rabbinic one of accompanying guests. Okay? But this rabbinic commandment of accompanying guests—why do I have to do it? Not because of "love your neighbor as yourself," because it doesn’t derive as an obligation from "love your neighbor as yourself," but rather because of "do not deviate," or "according to all that they instruct you." Well then, it’s still Torah-level. We’re back again to classification. So it is Torah-level after all; it’s just that at the classificatory level, it all falls under "do not deviate," so don’t count it as separate commandments. We’re back to classification. Now in order to understand this, we need to go back even further. What is the difference between a Torah-level commandment and a rabbinic commandment? What is the difference at all? The source? Okay. That means that a rabbinic commandment is a commandment that has no source in the Torah. Right? A Torah-level commandment is a commandment for which we have a command from the Torah. Therefore, for example, people think that the division between Torah-level commandments and rabbinic commandments is chronological: commandments that existed at Mount Sinai are Torah-level, commandments that came into being later are rabbinic. That is not correct. There are rabbinic commandments that existed at Sinai, and there are commandments created today that are Torah-level. Commandments that are created today—but I derive them from a verse—so what if they were created today? If they have a source in the Torah, they are Torah-level. The issue is not chronological. The issue is whether they have a source in the Torah or do not have a source in the Torah. For example, there is discussion among halakhic authorities about opening bottles on the Sabbath—whether it is prohibited, not prohibited, whether it is building, demolishing, never mind, completing a vessel. Now, caps of the kind we know today did not exist until a few decades ago. So this is a prohibition created today. Does that necessarily mean it is not a Torah-level prohibition? No. If I decide that this really falls under the category of completing a vessel, or demolishing, or building, then it is Torah-level. Because it has a source in the Torah, okay? Even though it arose today. By contrast, there are enactments of Moses—for example public Torah reading on the Sabbath. Monday and Thursday are Ezra; on Sabbath it’s Moses. These are enactments that already existed at Sinai—enactments of Moses. And these are rabbinic enactments. Why? Because they have no source in the Torah. Moses did not derive them from some command of the Holy One, blessed be He; he enacted an enactment. Just as sages in every generation can enact an enactment, Moses in his generation enacted enactments similarly. Therefore this is rabbinic law even though it already existed then. The chronology is not the criterion that distinguishes Torah-level law from rabbinic law. So what is? The question is whether there is some source in the Torah or not. So from this it emerges that the sages actually function—or have two kinds of function. Legislators and interpreters. When the sages interpret the Torah, the product of their interpretation is Torah-level law. Right? Because they derive it from the Torah; they can show me its source in the Torah. The fact that the sages were the ones who interpreted and extracted this prohibition from the Torah doesn’t matter. In the end, assuming I accept their interpretation, this prohibition has a source in the Torah. Therefore it is a Torah-level prohibition. But if the sages legislate a new law, it has no source in the Torah. Meat and milk, washing hands, I don’t know, various rabbinic enactments or decrees—they have no source in the Torah. So they are rabbinic laws. Meaning: when the sages legislate, the result is rabbinic law; when the sages interpret, the result is Torah-level law. But both kinds of law, basically, were created by the sages. Even the Torah-level laws that we know as Torah-level laws—almost no Torah-level law is written explicitly in the Torah. What the language of the sages calls a law "that even the Sadducees admit." The Sadducees, who do not accept the Oral Torah—if it is written explicitly in the Torah, then the Sadducees also accept it. There are very few such laws. Most Torah-level laws—or the overwhelming majority of the Torah-level laws in our hands—were created by the sages. So why are they Torah-level and not rabbinic, if they were created by the sages? Because the sages created them through an interpretive process, not a legislative process. The sages functioned as interpreters and not as legislators, therefore the result is Torah-level law and not rabbinic law. What is the authority of the sages to legislate and to interpret? When the sages interpret or legislate, why should we listen to them? So Maimonides says: "do not deviate." "Do not deviate from all that they instruct you"—there is also a positive commandment and also a prohibition. Nachmanides attacks Maimonides. He says: if it comes out of "do not deviate," then every rabbinic commandment is really a Torah-level commandment. If you ate poultry with milk, you violated the prohibition of "do not deviate." Well then, you violated a Torah-level prohibition. So why, in a case of doubt regarding poultry with milk, can I be lenient, since for rabbinic doubt we are lenient? The doubt is over a Torah-level prohibition—we should be stringent. Therefore Nachmanides does not accept Maimonides’ position. Nachmanides argues that the authority of the sages to establish rabbinic laws does not come from the Torah; it does not come from "do not deviate." Because if it did come from "do not deviate," then there would be no category called rabbinic laws; everything would simply be different applications of the Torah-level prohibition of "do not deviate." So what is written in "do not deviate"? Nachmanides says: that is the authority to interpret, not to legislate. When the sages interpret "You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk" as applying to cooking, eating, and deriving benefit—okay?—that is interpretation by the sages. "Do not deviate" tells me that I must obey the sages’ interpretation. Here Nachmanides’ objection does not arise. You can’t ask: wait, so why is this rabbinic law and not Torah-level law? After all, you violate "do not deviate." Obviously it is Torah-level law; nobody says this is rabbinic law. Interpretation of verses is Torah-level law, so here Nachmanides doesn’t have the objection: how can you rely on "do not deviate"? But as to legislation—the enactments and decrees of the sages—there, Nachmanides says, I am not willing to accept that the sages’ authority to legislate comes from "do not deviate," because otherwise all the sages’ legislation would not be rabbinic but Torah-level. And that raises the question: so what is the source for having to obey the sages’ legislation? Their interpretation I understand, but why obey their legislation? If it does not come from "do not deviate," then where does it come from? Parenthetically, the Minchat Chinukh writes: suppose I have a sick person on the Sabbath to whom I need to give forbidden food to eat because of saving life. He says it is preferable to give him a prohibition that is written explicitly in the Torah rather than a prohibition learned from exegesis, or from rabbinic interpretation. Why? Because with a prohibition learned from exegesis, you violate both the prohibition itself and also "do not deviate"—it’s a more severe prohibition. If the prohibition is written explicitly in the Torah, then you violate only the prohibition written in the Torah; that’s one prohibition, not two. Therefore it is preferable to give him food that is forbidden explicitly in the Torah. In my opinion that is nonsense. It reflects a misunderstanding of "do not deviate." "Do not deviate" is not an independent prohibition—according to Nachmanides, in relation to interpretation by the sages. "Do not deviate" only tells me that what the sages determine is, for me, the content of the verse. I am obligated to accept it as the authoritative interpretation of the verse. If I did not accept it, I did not violate "do not deviate." If I did not accept it, I violated the prohibition of meat with milk. Because the sages decided that the verse "You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk" includes eating and deriving benefit, not only cooking. And since they have authority by virtue of "do not deviate," then when I ate meat with milk, I violated the prohibition of "You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk," not "do not deviate." Therefore it is not more severe than a prohibition written explicitly in the Torah. Eating meat with milk is no more severe than cooking meat with milk. Cooking meat with milk is written explicitly in the Torah—"You shall not cook a kid in its mother’s milk." Eating is only the sages’ interpretation because the Torah repeats it three times. Okay? But you need to understand that "do not deviate" is really a verse which, according to Nachmanides, is not a commandment—
[Speaker C] One could perhaps say it’s of the fourth type, yes?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s a verse that tells me that what—
[Speaker C] —the sages interpret—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —in the verse is, for you, the binding content of the verse. You cannot disagree with it. And therefore now, when you violate it, you will violate what the Torah said, not "do not deviate," because the sages told you that this is what the Torah meant. Okay. So the question returns: why, really, must one obey the sages’ legislation? Interpretation by the sages is by virtue of "do not deviate." What about the sages’ legislation? You have to understand that here one can really say there is a short blanket. If you cover your head, your feet are exposed; if you cover your feet, your head is exposed. There are two questions here that seemingly cannot both be answered together. You have to choose. Why? Because if I find a source for the obligation to obey the sages in their legislation, then I have made it Torah-level, because it has a source. If I don’t find a source, then why obey them? Without a source, why should I obey them? So either way, I can’t cover the whole body with this blanket. If I find a source, then it will be Torah-level; if I don’t find a source, then there is no obligation to observe it. I cannot show you that there is a source and that it is still not Torah-level—which is really what we are usually used to thinking about rabbinic law. There is an obligation to obey it, but it is not Torah-level. How can that be? How can there be such a halakhic category, one that there is an obligation to obey but is not Torah-level? Either there is a source or there isn’t. If there is a source, it is Torah-level; if there isn’t, there is no—
[Speaker C] —obligation to obey.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, that is really the question.
[Speaker C] There are several later authorities—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —who turn this into a discussion; I think I did this at the end of last semester. There are later authorities who want to argue that when—how do we violate "do not deviate"? Only in a case where we do not obey the command because we do not recognize, in principle, the authority of the sages. Suppose I want to eat poultry with milk because I have an evil inclination. It can happen. People eat forbidden things—pork, meat with milk—they have an evil inclination. They understand that the Torah prohibits it, they understand that what the Torah prohibits is binding, but fine, their inclination overcame them. It happens; we’re human. The same can happen with rabbinic law. I eat poultry with milk not because I don’t recognize in principle the authority of the sages—I do recognize it—but fine, I couldn’t overcome myself, so I ate poultry with milk. Some later authorities say: even according to Maimonides, in that case you have not violated "do not deviate." You violated the rabbinic prohibition of eating poultry with milk. You violate "do not deviate" only when you do not listen to the sages’ command because you do not recognize their authority in principle.
[Speaker C] You do not accept—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —the sages’ authority to legislate. Then you violate "do not deviate." How do they know that? Because from "do not deviate" there also comes the law of the rebellious elder, and a rebellious elder is clearly such a case. A rebellious elder is someone who gives rulings against what the Sanhedrin determined. Meaning, he does not accept the authority of the Sanhedrin in principle—not that he transgressed because he had an evil inclination. So too an ordinary person, not a Torah scholar, not a rebellious elder, just a regular citizen—when does he violate "do not deviate"? Only when he does not recognize, in principle, the authority of the sages to legislate. But someone who merely violates a rabbinic prohibition because his inclination overcame him—he violated a rabbinic prohibition, not "do not deviate." That is their claim. Does this solve the problem? Why? Because the question still remains: if there is really an obligation from the Torah—there is this original obligation—but the very fact that I observe their words means that I trust them, I am basically fulfilling the Torah obligation. Okay. I’ll formulate it a bit differently, but I agree. Because in principle it doesn’t solve the problem. Why doesn’t it solve the problem? Because if I do not recognize their authority in principle, then there is "do not deviate"—that’s clearly a Torah-level prohibition. But the question still remains: why not eat poultry with milk when my inclination overcomes me? I recognize the sages’ authority, but my inclination overcomes me. Why is there any prohibition here? After all, regarding that, "do not deviate" was not said, right? So why must I refrain? Here I’ll perhaps use a parable to clarify the point. There’s Winnie-the-Pooh—this is my favorite parable in this context. On Piglet’s hut it says, "Wrongdoers will be punished." If that’s a corruption of the text, never mind. That’s what it says: "Wrongdoers will be punished." Now, what is a wrongdoer? What are you supposed to do to be a wrongdoer? What are you forbidden to do? Nothing—nothing is mentioned. "Wrongdoers will be punished." What’s the problem with such a sentence? You can’t talk about "wrongdoers will be punished" without defining who the wrongdoer is. Obviously, in the background there is some definition of what is permitted and what is forbidden. If there are wrongdoers, you can say "wrongdoers will be punished," but such a sentence, when there are no offenses in the background, is meaningless. "Wrongdoers will be punished"—except there is no such thing as wrongdoers. There is no law anywhere obligating me to do anything, so what content does the verse "wrongdoers will be punished" have? Yes—what is a wrongdoer? There are no wrongdoers. So what does "wrongdoers will be punished" mean? But if there is a verse that says "wrongdoers will be punished," it indirectly reveals to me that there must be other sources—or I don’t know exactly what—that determine who the wrongdoer is. There are some laws in the background such that whoever violates them is a wrongdoer. Without that, the verse "wrongdoers will be punished" has no meaning. That is exactly "do not deviate." "Do not deviate" is "wrongdoers will be punished." Why? Because what does it tell me? It tells me that someone who does not obey the authority of the sages is a wrongdoer; he will be punished—a Torah-level prohibition. What is the authority of the sages? Nothing—whatever you want. Because if I do it due to my inclination, then I can—
[Speaker C] —do whatever I want.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Only if I do it because I do not recognize the authority of the Sages is it a violation of "do not deviate." But if my impulse simply gets the better of me, then am I allowed to eat poultry with milk? Not only would I not be punished—it's permitted, because there is no source that forbids it. So what does it mean that I recognize the authority of the Sages? If everything they say I can choose not to do, then in what sense do I recognize their authority? That whenever I do it, I never tell myself, "I don't recognize their authority"? That's like Winnie-the-Pooh. Meaning, if someone says, "No, I have decided to be a criminal," then it doesn't matter what he does, because he doesn't know what he has to do in order to be a criminal. He decides about himself that he is a criminal—so he will be punished? What? Obviously an offense has to be defined as a specific act that is defined as an offense. You can't say, "I'm a criminal," and thereby become a criminal. Now, if I am allowed to eat poultry with milk unless I fundamentally do not recognize the authority of the Sages, then what is called recognizing the authority of the Sages? After all, anything they say I am allowed to violate, so in what sense do I or do I not recognize their authority? Therefore I argue that when the verse says, "do not deviate," it is basically telling me: look, the Sages have authority, and you must obey them. But I violate this verse only if I do not obey because I do not fundamentally accept their authority. What happens if I ate poultry with milk because of my impulse, not because I fundamentally denied their authority? Since there is such a verse that says offenders will be punished, that one must obey the Sages, this means that the Torah assumes that what the Sages say is indeed binding. And then it says: if you do not fundamentally recognize this, you have violated "do not deviate." So when I eat poultry with milk, not out of a fundamental denial of their authority but because of my inclination, then I violated a rabbinic prohibition; I did not violate "do not deviate." But the existence of the verse "do not deviate" reveals that there is such a category called rabbinic prohibitions. Because if there were not, then there would also be no Torah-level "do not deviate." But this is not a command. It does not mean that if I eat poultry with milk, I have violated "do not deviate." No. "Do not deviate" only obligates me to recognize the authority of the Sages. Therefore, if I fundamentally do not recognize their authority, I have violated "do not deviate." If I ate poultry with milk in the ordinary way, but I do recognize their authority and only acted because of my impulse, I did not violate "do not deviate," but I did violate a rabbinic prohibition. People will ask: then what is the force of a rabbinic prohibition if it does not draw from "do not deviate"? The answer is: it does draw from "do not deviate." "Do not deviate" teaches me that there is such a thing as rabbinic prohibitions, but it does not command me to observe the rabbinic prohibitions. It teaches me indirectly, because without rabbinic prohibitions there would be no content to the verse "do not deviate." I have proof from the Torah—indirect proof—that there are rabbinic prohibitions, that they have force. The Torah recognizes their force, but it does not command them. Remember: Torah-level commandments are only things we have been commanded about. There is no command about poultry with milk. Poultry with milk is not one of the cases, one of the ways, of violating "do not deviate." It is not a specification of the prohibition of "do not deviate," like "love your fellow as yourself," as we saw earlier. No, it is a rabbinic prohibition; this is a separate category. The existence of the Torah-level prohibition "do not deviate" indirectly reveals to me that there is such a category of rabbinic prohibitions. Because if there were not, then "do not deviate" too would be emptied of content. This is a proof by negation. Therefore, when I ate poultry with milk because of my impulse, I did not violate "do not deviate." "Do not deviate" does not command me, "Do not eat poultry with milk." I violated a rabbinic prohibition. "Do not deviate" serves for me as an anchor, or reveals to me indirectly, that there is such a category as rabbinic prohibitions. That is what the verse does. If I fundamentally do not recognize this category, or the authority of the Sages, then I have violated "do not deviate." But if I violated this category because of impulse, then I violated a rabbinic prohibition. It seems to me that this is what Maimonides means, and it seems to me that this is also what Nachmanides means, because there is no other way out. I said this was a brief branch. You can't tell me there is a source, because then it would be Torah-level. You can't tell me there is no source, because then why should one obey? I argue: there is a source, but a source that is not a command. A source that is a disclosure. Think, for example, about statements like, "Now the man Moses was very humble, more than any person on the face of the earth." So I understand from here that the Torah values the trait of humility, but there is no commandment to be humble. There is no command. From the fact that the Torah esteems Moses our teacher, I understand that humility has value. Okay? So therefore the Torah taught me that it is proper to be humble, but it did not command me to be humble. So if I do not work on the trait of humility, I have not neglected any positive commandment, because there is no command. But I did something that is not right. Rabbinic commandments are of that sort. Then they tell me: when you eat poultry with milk, you did not violate "do not deviate," because "do not deviate" does not command that. But you were still not okay. How do I know? Just as when the Torah praises Moses for being humble, I understand that the Torah values the trait of humility even though it did not command it and did not say anything directly. But this is a reasonable interpretive move: I understand from what the Torah says that humility is something proper in its eyes. By a similar interpretive move, from "do not deviate" I understand that obeying the Sages is something proper in the eyes of the Torah. Because otherwise the prohibition of "do not deviate" would have no content. Therefore we have a source, and therefore there is an obligation to obey, and this still does not turn it into a Torah-level prohibition. It does not turn it into a Torah-level prohibition because this source is not a source that commands, like "Now the man Moses was humble," but rather a source from which I understand that this is the proper way to act, by means of an interpretive move. And it does not command me to do this. This basically means—and here I may finish, because today I mainly summarized—basically what this means is that, to sum up toward the next class, where I will continue from here, the Sages have two hats: a legislator's hat and an interpreter's hat. Today we dealt with the legislator's hat. And I asked why one must obey them, and if so, then why isn't it Torah-level? And I said that their authority to legislate branches out from the verse "do not deviate." But the laws they created are not a specification of the verse "do not deviate." They branch out from the verse "do not deviate" through some interpretive move. Not that the verse "do not deviate" commands this. We discover that in the Torah there are two kinds of relationships between the command and the things that emerge from it. There is specification, and there is branching. For example, the Torah says, "You shall not do any labor" on the Sabbath; there are thirty-nine primary categories of labor and further derivatives. Each of those violations is a specific way of doing labor on the Sabbath. That is called specification. It is a particular application of the general prohibition. Or with a vow, right? One must keep one's vows. So if I vowed not to benefit from bread, then I am forbidden to benefit from bread. If I vowed not to sit on a chair, I am forbidden to sit on a chair. But these are not separate prohibitions. They are different applications of the same prohibition, of keeping whatever came from his mouth, right? "He shall not break his word"—the prohibition of "he shall not break his word," the obligation to keep vows. That is called specification. There is another mechanism called branching. Branching means that when I eat poultry with milk, that is not specified from "do not deviate." It is not a specific way of violating the prohibition of "do not deviate." I really do not violate the prohibition of "do not deviate" if I ate poultry with milk. But from the prohibition of "do not deviate" there branches out the prohibition against eating poultry with milk. It branches out; it is not specified from there. Okay? That is with regard to the Sages as legislators, rabbinic laws. In the next class I will show you a parallel move regarding the Sages as interpreters, regarding laws that emerge from exegesis. Okay. Let's stop here.