Topics in Talmudic Logic, Lecture 14
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
🔗 Link to the original lecture
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Table of Contents
- The hermeneutic principles as a developing system with internal logic
- The second root in Maimonides’ Book of Commandments and the counting of the commandments
- Derashot that are disputed versus interpretations received from Moses, and the need for textual support for tradition
- Creative derash and supportive derash, “gemara gemira la,” and determining rabbinic status
- Maimonides’ default rule: Torah-level only with an explicit declaration
- Maimonides’ critique of Behag: inclusions, reverence for sages, and plain meaning versus derash
- Examples: acts of kindness and visiting the sick, and Maimonides’ wording in the laws of mourning
- A fundamental dispute over the nature of derash: uncovering versus expanding
- The example of Ran and the distinction between interpretive innovation and halakhic innovation
- The metaphor of roots and branches and the view of Othniel son of Kenaz
- Continuous logic and levels of Torah-ness
- Moral conclusion: human greatness as responsibility
Summary
General overview
The lecture presents the development of the hermeneutic principles and their status, moving from the logical aspect to interpretive and halakhic implications through the second root in Maimonides’ Book of Commandments. Maimonides holds that laws derived through one of the thirteen principles or through an inclusion should not be counted among the commandments, and he distinguishes between creative derashot, whose status is rabbinic, and supportive derashot, which anchor an accepted interpretation and may therefore be considered Torah-level when the Sages explicitly say so. The lecture then presents a basic dispute: do the hermeneutic principles uncover a meaning already present in the verse, or do they expand beyond its plain meaning? Based on that, a continuous logical framework of “levels of Torah-ness” is proposed. The conclusion adds a moral idea: the world was created to serve the human being, and the statement “the world was created for my sake” obligates a person to take responsibility for repairing the world, not to feel pride.
The hermeneutic principles as a developing system with internal logic
The principles develop over the generations, and alongside that there is agreement among all the medieval authorities (Rishonim) that halakhic derash is a law given to Moses at Sinai. The principles are not an arbitrary code but a meaningful, logical system, and therefore in principle they can be used even for non-biblical texts. Elon, in his book Jewish Law, points this out, and there are additional examples among medieval and later authorities who use the rule of general-particular-general on legal documents or on non-biblical texts.
The second root in Maimonides’ Book of Commandments and the counting of the commandments
Maimonides states in the second root that one should not count everything learned through one of the thirteen principles by which the Torah is interpreted, or through inclusion. He explains that the roots are rules for determining the count of the 613 commandments, and the second root deals with laws learned from derashot. Maimonides mentions Rabbi Ishmael’s thirteen principles and adds “inclusion,” and the explanation is that he is also referring to Rabbi Akiva’s interpretive principles of inclusion and exclusion, as opposed to Rabbi Ishmael’s general-particular-general. In practice, he means anything that emerges from a derash.
Derashot that are disputed versus interpretations received from Moses, and the need for textual support for tradition
Maimonides writes that most Torah laws were derived through the thirteen principles, and the lecture notes that this is not factually precise if taken literally. His intention is apparently laws not explicitly stated in the Torah and not derivable by straightforward interpretive tools. Maimonides distinguishes between a law derived through a principle where dispute arises, and laws that are interpretations received from Moses, where there is no dispute, and he states that nothing transmitted from Sinai is subject to dispute. He explains that even when an interpretation is received from Moses, they still bring proof for it through one of the principles, because of the “wisdom of Scripture,” meaning that one can find in the text a hint or analogy pointing to that accepted interpretation.
Creative derash and supportive derash, “gemara gemira la,” and determining rabbinic status
A conceptual distinction is presented between creative derash, which generates a new law, and supportive derash, which anchors a law already known by tradition through a verse. Supportive derash also includes a case where the law is ancient but its source was forgotten, and the Sages reconstruct the derash that originally produced it. This is connected to the Netziv’s distinction in the introduction to Kedmat Ha-Emek between a law given to Moses at Sinai and “gemara gemira la,” in contrast to Rashi and Maimonides, who interpret “gemara gemira la” as a law given to Moses at Sinai. Maimonides adds a halakhic layer when he states that a law derived from derash that is not an accepted interpretation is rabbinic, whereas if it is an accepted interpretation and the derash is only supportive, then its status is Torah-level.
Maimonides’ default rule: Torah-level only with an explicit declaration
Maimonides establishes a rule of decision: any law not written in the Torah and learned in the Talmud through one of the principles will be counted and considered Torah-level only if the Sages explained and said that it is “an essential part of the Torah” or “Torah-level”; if they did not explain and did not speak of it that way, then it is rabbinic. This creates an asymmetry: the default is that a creative derash is rabbinic, and only an exception receives an explicit Torah-level stamp. This is linked to Maimonides’ responsum to Rabbi Pinchas the Judge of Alexandria, according to which the overwhelming majority of derashot are creative derashot.
Maimonides’ critique of Behag: inclusions, reverence for sages, and plain meaning versus derash
Maimonides attacks Behag for counting reverence for sages as a positive commandment on the basis of Rabbi Akiva’s statement in tractate Pesachim 22: “You shall fear the Lord your God” — to include Torah scholars. He points to Behag’s lack of consistency, since he does not also count parallel inclusions such as “your father” — to include your older brother, and “your father” — to include your mother’s husband, and “your mother” — to include your father’s wife. Maimonides argues that Behag counts matters that are “certainly all rabbinic,” even though “the plain meaning of the verse does not indicate” them. He relies on the rule “a verse never departs from its plain meaning” and on the Talmud’s question “what is the verse itself speaking about?” to establish that the plain sense is the interpretation of the verse, whereas derash is not its interpretation.
Examples: acts of kindness and visiting the sick, and Maimonides’ wording in the laws of mourning
Maimonides gives the example that Behag counts visiting the sick, comforting mourners, and burying the dead on the basis of the derash on “And you shall make known to them the way they shall walk in and the deed they shall do.” He states that all of this falls under one explicit commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In the Laws of Mourning, chapter 14, law 1, Maimonides rules that it is “a positive commandment of their words” to visit the sick, comfort mourners, and so on, and adds: “Even though all these commandments are of their words, they are included in ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” The implication is that these rabbinic obligations are a practical extension of the general command of love, not a detached enactment.
A fundamental dispute over the nature of derash: uncovering versus expanding
The lecture presents the thesis that many medieval authorities understand the hermeneutic principles as uncovering layers already present in the verse, and therefore their result is Torah-level. According to Maimonides, by contrast, the hermeneutic principles are tools that expand beyond the plain meaning, so the result is not the interpretation of the verse but an expansion of its spirit. For Maimonides, the distinction between Torah-level and rabbinic depends on whether the Sages are acting as interpreters uncovering the text or as legislators creating a new law, and derash is placed in the category of an expanding tool that is neither enactment nor decree, but also not plain meaning.
The example of Ran and the distinction between interpretive innovation and halakhic innovation
An example is brought from Ran on Nedarim 8, regarding someone who says, “I will rise early and study this chapter,” who is called “he has made a great vow to the God of Israel.” The Talmud explains that the oath takes effect because “if he wanted, he could exempt himself with the recitation of Shema morning and evening.” Ran argues that this does not mean that reciting Shema exempts one from Torah study, and concludes that “anything that comes from derash, even though it is from the Torah, since it is not explicitly written in the verse, an oath can take effect upon it.” From this it is shown that Ran accepts that derash is not explicit in the verse in the plain-sense meaning, yet still grants it the status of “from the Torah,” unlike Maimonides, who derives from its interpretive, expanding status the halakhic conclusion that it is rabbinic.
The metaphor of roots and branches and the view of Othniel son of Kenaz
Maimonides rejects the claim that he refrains from counting derashot because they are not true, and compares the products of derash to “branches from the roots” that were said to Moses at Sinai explicitly and that make up the 613 commandments. He cites proof from Temurah about “1,700 a fortiori inferences, verbal analogies, and scribal details” that were forgotten during the mourning period for Moses and restored by Othniel son of Kenaz through his analysis. He concludes that if everything learned through the principles were counted, we would reach many thousands, not 613. He states that what was not heard at Sinai explicitly is “from the words of the Sages,” even if it was known in Moses’ time, and he counts as Torah-level only what is an “accepted interpretation” about which the Sages explained that it is Torah-level or an essential part of the Torah.
Continuous logic and levels of Torah-ness
A distinction is drawn between the mistaken chronological view of Torah-level versus rabbinic and the essential definition of who creates the law, and the discussion moves to the distinction between interpretation and legislation. Derash is presented as an intermediate state: it has a connection to the text, but it is not identical with its plain meaning. Therefore a continuum is formed of levels of connection to the text, producing a continuum of halakhic status rather than a sharp dichotomy. The images of “its force” versus “the force of its force,” the heap paradox, the bald man paradox, and the examples about diligence and laziness and about the transition to noon/afternoon are used to illustrate the claim that the categories are not black and white but fuzzy. Accordingly, laws derived from derash are not “ordinary rabbinic law” but have varying degrees of closeness to Torah-level law, with halakhic implications to be discussed further on.
Moral conclusion: human greatness as responsibility
The conclusion states that the whole of creation came in order to serve the human being, and the human being is the purpose of everything. Human greatness is not pride but a responsibility placed on one’s shoulders, and if the world was created for my sake, then I must repair the world. The Sages say that every person is obligated to say, “The world was created for my sake” — not as a privilege, but as an obligation.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’re starting. In the previous lecture we talked about the hermeneutic principles, a bit about their development and about their meaning and status, at least in the logical sense. How does this whole thing work? And what I want to do today is go a bit more into their interpretive and halakhic implications. We only saw briefly — I’ll summarize — we saw that this is a system that develops over the generations, and on the other hand there is clear agreement among all the medieval authorities (Rishonim) that derash, at least halakhic derash, is a law given to Moses at Sinai. And we talked about the fact that this is not just a formal system, but some kind of system that has meaning. It’s not an arbitrary code like Atbash or codes of that kind, but something with meaning. And the implication is that in principle one could use these hermeneutic principles for other texts too, not necessarily only for the biblical text. As I mentioned, Elon already points this out in his book Jewish Law, and there are a few more examples among medieval and later authorities who interpret documents or non-biblical texts by means of general-particular-general. And basically this means that there is some logic to these midrashic tools; it’s not just some arbitrary convention. What I want to do today is go a little into the halakhic implications of this. First of all, I’m going to share something. I’m bringing up Maimonides’ Book of Commandments here. This will basically be our basis for the discussion from here on. And maybe I’ll try to give some direction — since this is the last lecture, it suddenly turned out that next Wednesday is already vacation — so I’ll try to give some kind of overall picture. I’ll try to close a circle, meaning to give some kind of picture even if I don’t go all the way into every detail. We’ll see what we do with this after Passover. Okay, I’m starting to read the second root. The first thing is the title of the root. The second root: that it is not proper to count everything learned through one of the thirteen principles by which the Torah is interpreted, or through inclusion. Just as background: before Maimonides’ Book of Commandments there are fourteen roots. These roots are basically rules by which he determines how he counts the 613 commandments. What gets counted, what doesn’t get counted, how many commandments each thing counts as, and so on. The second root — the first root dealt with the relation between rabbinic commandments and Torah-level commandments, and the second root speaks about laws learned from derashot. And the claim — this is the rule of the second root, which he then explains in detail — is that one should not count what is learned through one of the thirteen principles by which the Torah is interpreted, or through inclusion. Meaning, something learned out of some hermeneutic principle does not enter the count of the commandments. What enters the count of the commandments is only things written in the Torah, or things learned from it through straightforward interpretive tools out of what is written in the Torah. Something learned from derash does not go in there. A few comments before I continue. In this definition, Maimonides is actually mentioning fourteen hermeneutic principles: the thirteen principles of Rabbi Ishmael, and inclusion. And the question is: what about the other hermeneutic principles? There are more. What about the rest? Beyond that, what does “thirteen and inclusion” mean? Why did he add inclusion? So regarding inclusion, apparently he means Rabbi Akiva’s hermeneutic principles, as distinct from Rabbi Ishmael’s, which are the better-known thirteen. I already mentioned last time that Rabbi Akiva expounds by inclusion and exclusion and inclusion, where Rabbi Ishmael expounds by general-particular-general. So basically Maimonides means hermeneutic principles, whether those of Rabbi Akiva or those of Rabbi Ishmael, and apparently he doesn’t mean specifically those thirteen, because we already talked about the fact that in the Talmud there are many more than thirteen. He means to say: anything that comes out of derash does not enter the count of the commandments. What enters the count of the commandments is only what is written in the Torah or emerges from it by straightforward tools, straightforward interpretive tools. Now, the beginning of his discussion, when he starts to explain — let’s read for a moment. “We already explained in the introduction to our work in the Commentary on the Mishnah” — in the introduction to the Commentary on the Mishnah — “that most of the laws of the Torah were derived through the thirteen principles by which the Torah is interpreted, and that a law derived through one of those principles…” Wait, one second, before what came next. Let’s start with the first line. What does it mean that most of the laws of the Torah were derived through the thirteen principles by which the Torah is interpreted? Factually that’s not true. When you look for derashot derived through one of Rabbi Ishmael’s thirteen principles, there are very few. Even general-particular — which is a relatively common hermeneutic move — you’ll find, I don’t know, maybe ten sugyot that deal with it, twelve sugyot that deal with it, not much more. Other principles are rare altogether. A fortiori, of course, is more frequent; verbal analogy a bit more. But it’s very far from being most of the laws of the Torah. Beyond that, there are many laws that come from straightforward interpretations; there are laws that come from principles that are not these thirteen but other principles. I think what Maimonides probably means is that the laws of the Torah that are not explicit in it, or not simply interpreted out of what is written in it, come out by means of hermeneutic principles — and again, not necessarily only these thirteen, as I inferred from his title as well. When he says thirteen, he means the hermeneutic principles in general. So derash has some system of principles that produces laws beyond what is written in the Torah and beyond what emerges from it through straightforward interpretive tools. Now he continues — I’m continuing what he goes on to write: “And a law that emerges through one of those principles — sometimes dispute will fall into it. And there are laws that are interpretations received from Moses, in which there is no dispute, but they bring proof for them through one of the thirteen principles, because of the wisdom of Scripture, that it is possible to find in it a hint indicating that accepted interpretation, or an analogy indicating it.” So he divides the principles into two types. One type is derashot — those derashot. One type is derashot in which dispute arose. And the second type is laws that are accepted interpretations from Moses, with no dispute about them at all. The question that obviously comes up — maybe before the question — what’s in the subtext here is that anything about which dispute arose is apparently not something that is an interpretation received from Moses. And Maimonides writes this explicitly in many other places: that something said to Moses, a transmitted law given to Moses at Sinai, is not subject to dispute. Maimonides states that very clearly in several places. These things are also far from simple — there are many disputes in the Talmud that concern laws given to Moses at Sinai, concern laws given to Moses at Sinai. In Havot Yair, responsum 192, there is a very long discussion: he goes over all the laws given to Moses at Sinai in the Talmud, which of them are disputed, and explains — if at all — how Maimonides would read that, but there are many places where he remains with it unresolved. One second. There are many places where he remains with it unresolved, but Maimonides’ general position is: something transmitted from Sinai is not disputed. Therefore, the division between derashot that involve dispute and derashot that do not involve dispute apparently overlaps with the distinction between things received from Sinai and things not received from Sinai. Even though in principle something might not have been received from Sinai and still, by chance, no dispute arose about it. Meaning, it’s not one-to-one, but what was received from Sinai has no dispute. The question here is: if there is an interpretation received from Sinai and there is also no dispute about it, then why do you need to anchor it in a derash? You have a law given to Moses at Sinai, it came down to you, you know exactly what the law was — so what is the point of starting to play with hermeneutic principles and extracting it from verses? So he says, “but they bring proof for them” — I’m still reading from the highlighted section — “through one of the thirteen principles, because of the wisdom of Scripture, that it is possible to find in it a hint indicating that accepted interpretation, or an analogy indicating it.” Meaning, part of the wisdom of Scripture is that even things we received by tradition can sometimes be derived through derash from the verses. But that still doesn’t explain why you’d do that. So here’s the thing: in the background of this distinction there’s another distinction, which is also related to the distinctions I made earlier, between creative derash and supportive derash. Creative derash is a derash that yields a new law that wasn’t known until now. Supportive derash — and that’s what Maimonides is describing here — is a law that we already know, it came by tradition from Sinai, but we anchor it in some derash. We manage to extract it from a verse, even though the verse did not create that law; we knew it beforehand, but the verse anchors the law through derash. That’s what’s called supportive derash. We support the law by the text. Within supportive derash too, you have to distinguish between two things. There is supportive derash that anchors a law given to Moses at Sinai, but there is also supportive derash that anchors some tradition whose source is unclear to us. Suppose some law reaches us and we don’t know its source, and we look around: maybe there is some derash through which we can derive this law, and we find some derash. That too is supportive derash, because the law preceded the derash; the law was known before I made the derash. But the source of that law is not necessarily a law given to Moses at Sinai. For example, maybe a generation earlier — I don’t know, five generations — sages made some derash and derived a law. Since then the law was accepted and passed down by tradition. At some point we lost the source. We don’t know where the sages got this law from. So the sages of the current generation, five generations later, ask themselves: where did this law come from? Attached to this law there isn’t some note saying, “This is a law given to Moses at Sinai.” Because a law given to Moses at Sinai is supposed to come with a kind of label over it: this is a law given to Moses at Sinai. This law did indeed come by tradition — we didn’t invent it — it came to us from previous generations, but there’s no note attached saying it’s a law given to Moses at Sinai. So if that’s the case, it’s clear to us that they derived it somehow, apparently through hermeneutic principles. That’s what he said above, that most of the laws of the Torah were derived through the thirteen principles. So the sages of this current generation start trying to figure out exactly how this law was created. They find some derash that supports this law. So it is indeed supportive derash, but the law it is supporting is not a law given to Moses at Sinai; it is an ancient law from some earlier generation. Basically what we are doing here is reconstructing a creative derash. In other words, sages five generations ago actually made a creative derash, we lost the source, and what we’re doing now is trying to reconstruct what those earlier sages did. So in fact they made a creative derash, right? They created a new law. We don’t remember the source, so we reconstruct it by searching for a derash that will yield that law. We seem to be doing supportive derash, because the law is given and we find a derash to anchor a given law, but really this is not supporting a law given to Moses at Sinai; it is reconstructing a creative derash from an earlier generation. Why is this distinction important? Actually, before that distinction — the Netziv, in the introduction to Kedmat Ha-Emek… there’s Ha-Emek She’elah, which is the Netziv’s commentary on the She’iltot of Rav Achai Gaon. He has a very long introduction to that commentary called Kedmat Ha-Emek, and in that introduction he distinguishes between a law given to Moses at Sinai and “gemara gemira la.” In many Talmudic passages the phrase “gemara gemira la” appears. Rashi, in every such place, writes: a law given to Moses at Sinai. Every such place. Maimonides also interprets it as a law given to Moses at Sinai, but “gemara gemira la” is an ancient law that they are reconstructing now. It is not a law given to Moses at Sinai; it is a law that came by tradition and we don’t know its source, but it did not come from Sinai. And the second type that I just presented is basically what the Netziv, in Maimonides’ view, calls “gemara gemira la.” Okay, so now — why is this important? I’ll continue reading. Let’s now read the section I highlighted now. “And we already explained this matter there” — “there” means in the introduction to the Commentary on the Mishnah — “and since this is so, then not everything that one finds the Sages deriving by logical inference from the thirteen principles should be said to have been said to Moses at Sinai.” Right? If we now see some derash establishing some law, we cannot necessarily say that this is a law given to Moses at Sinai. Why? Because maybe it is creative derash, a derash creating a new law, not supporting an ancient law. That’s on the one hand. “Nor should we say that everything found in the Talmud that they support on one of the thirteen principles is rabbinic, because sometimes it will be an accepted interpretation.” So not everything that comes out of the thirteen principles is creative derash; sometimes it is an accepted interpretation and the derash is supportive derash. But notice something here — suddenly something unexpected jumps out at us. What does “rabbinic” mean? I’m emphasizing the sentence.
[Speaker B] And the rest of the commandments are rabbinic, from the words of the Sages, as it’s called.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In other words, Maimonides here slips in—without giving us any prior introduction—that something learned from the thirteen hermeneutical principles, if it is not merely supporting a law given to Moses at Sinai, is rabbinic. Until now he had only said that it is not counted. We didn’t know why it isn’t counted. You could have suggested all kinds of explanations for why it isn’t counted. Here he says something more. He says: it is not counted because it is rabbinic law. But he says that this is true only of a derivation that creates a new law, a creative derivation. A creative derivation—the law created by that derivation is rabbinic law. A supporting derivation—when it supports, and I’m talking about when it supports a law given to Moses at Sinai, not when it reconstructs what I said earlier, in which case it is an accepted interpretation and the derivation anchors it—then it is Torah-level, not rabbinic.
That means Maimonides is basically adding another layer here. There is a difference between a creative derivation and a supporting derivation. A creative derivation—the law produced by it is rabbinic law. A supporting derivation—the law was already given to us at Sinai, and the derivation anchors it in the verse, and the result is a Torah-level law. And therefore a creative derivation is not counted in the enumeration of the commandments, because it is not Torah-level. In the enumeration of the commandments, only Torah-level commandments are counted. A supporting derivation is.
And now Maimonides says—I’m continuing to read the next sentence—therefore, the proper rule in this matter is that anything you do not find written in the Torah, and you do find in the Talmud that they learned it through one of the thirteen hermeneutical principles—in other words, if we have a law that we do not find written in the Torah, or do not find through straightforward interpretive tools from the Torah, and in the Talmud you see that it is learned through one of the thirteen principles—what is its status? So Maimonides says: it depends. If they themselves explained and said that it is an actual part of the Torah, or that it is Torah-level, then it is fitting to count it, because the transmitters said that it is Torah-level. In other words, if the Sages themselves, who made the derivation, told us that this thing is Torah-level, then it is Torah-level and should be counted. But if they did not explain this and did not speak about it, then it is rabbinic, because there is no scriptural text indicating it. That is a key sentence.
That is to say, Maimonides says: therefore, in light of what he has said until now, how do we know which derivation that appears in the Talmud is a creative derivation, and therefore rabbinic and not counted in the enumeration of the commandments, and which derivation is merely supporting an older law, and therefore is counted because it is a Torah-level commandment? He says: very simply, the Sages are supposed to tell us. We cannot know. We see a law emerging from a derivation, and we have no idea whether that law is new and was created by the derivation, or whether the law is ancient and the derivation merely anchored it. You cannot know. It is done in the same way. In both cases we took a derivation and extracted a law from it. So how do we know? The Sages have to tell us. If there is a tradition, they have to pass that tradition on to us.
So if they say about some derivation that it is Torah-level, then apparently it is a supporting derivation. The law was ancient and the derivation merely anchored it. Therefore it is Torah-level and is counted in the enumeration of the commandments. And if they do not say that it is Torah-level, then it is rabbinic, because then the derivation is creative, and therefore it is not counted in the enumeration of the commandments.
By the way, in the last words of the darkened section—“because there is no scriptural text indicating it”—he explains why it is rabbinic. It is rabbinic because there is no verse teaching it. That is a little strange, because the first part also has no verse teaching it. After all, even a supporting derivation is not written in the Torah; rather, it is a law given to Moses at Sinai that is transmitted orally, and the connection to Scripture is made through a hermeneutical principle. That too is not written in the Torah. There is something problematic here.
In any case, once again you see that he is talking about rabbinic law, right? “If they did not speak about it, then it is rabbinic.” In other words, he goes back and emphasizes that what I am not counting here—the law that comes out of the derivation—is not just some decision not to count it. I do not count it because it is rabbinic law; that is why I do not count it. Because you have to understand that a large part of the roots are rules that explain why not to count things not because they are rabbinic, but for technical reasons—for example, because it is included in another law, because it is a rationale, because it is whatever, all kinds of reasons, inclusive commandments, all kinds of things of that sort. Here, in this root and in the previous root, the first root—these are roots that determine that things are not counted because they are rabbinic; that is why they are not counted. So this is a very important point in Maimonides.
A note on the darkened passage—another note. There is an asymmetry here, if you notice. Maimonides says that if it is written in the Talmud that this derivation—the law produced by this derivation—is Torah-level, then it is Torah-level. And if nothing is written, then it is rabbinic. Why? I would have said that they should write it if it is rabbinic—that they should write that it is a creative derivation and the law is rabbinic. And if nothing is written, then it should be Torah-level. Or they should write either that it is rabbinic or that it is Torah-level, and if they wrote nothing then it would remain doubtful. Maimonides does not assume that. The default is that a derivation is a creative derivation and is rabbinic, and therefore the rabbis do not need to say that at all. When the Talmud says nothing, then the law is according to the default: this is a derivation that creates rabbinic law, a creative derivation. If the Sages want to tell me that the derivation we are dealing with is a supporting derivation and therefore the law is a Torah-level law, that they have to say explicitly.
From here you can see something that appears more explicitly in a responsum of Maimonides, a very well-known responsum to Rabbi Pinchas the judge of Alexandria. Maimonides’ position is that beyond the division between creative derivations and supporting derivations, the overwhelming majority of derivations are creative derivations. Maimonides writes there that aside from maybe three or four things, all the rest are creative derivations. There are very few supporting derivations. And therefore Maimonides says the logic is that if a certain derivation is creative, you don’t need to say anything about it; that is the default. If they want to say that here we have an exceptional derivation, a supporting derivation, then they have to say so. So the Sages will tell me “this is an actual part of the Torah” or “this is Torah-level,” and then I understand that it is a supporting derivation and a Torah-level law.
Okay, I’ll keep reading. And this too—why is he so insistent? Well, I don’t know what he wants from me. Okay, he can’t manage to get rid of this highlighting. So he says: “And this too is a root in which those besides us have already erred.” “Those besides us” here, in the context of the roots, is always the author of Halakhot Gedolot, because Maimonides writes the roots against Halakhot Gedolot. “And therefore he counted reverence for the Sages among the positive commandments.” Now where do we know reverence for the Sages from? We saw this in the previous class, right? “And what led him to this, as it appears to me, is Rabbi Akiva’s statement in Pesachim 22b”—this is the passage we saw—“‘You shall fear the Lord your God’—this comes to include Torah scholars.” “And he thought that whatever comes through inclusion”—inclusion is one of the mentioned categories. What does that mean? If it says, “‘You shall fear the Lord your God’—to include Torah scholars,” Halakhot Gedolot understands this to mean that reverence for Torah scholars is actually included within fear of God. It is part of the category written in the verse. The derivation reveals something that is contained within the category that appears in the verse. The verse says to fear the Holy One, blessed be He, and the details included in that category are, for example, reverence for Torah scholars. That is one of the details in that category.
Now, we have to understand that if this is really Halakhot Gedolot’s view, Maimonides could attack him in two different ways. One attack is that you do not need to count reverence for Torah scholars because it is already included in the commandment of fearing God—not because it is not Torah-level, but because it is included in the commandment of fearing God. So from the standpoint of the enumeration of the commandments, there is no reason to dedicate a separate commandment to it; it is a detail inside an existing commandment. And then the conception is that the derivations merely reveal further details within the framework of the commandment. Even if that were true, says Maimonides—Maimonides could say—there is still no reason to count it as a separate commandment; within fear of God one should also include reverence for Torah scholars.
But Maimonides attacks Halakhot Gedolot more than that. Maimonides says: not only is it not included in fear of God—it is rabbinic. “‘You shall fear the Lord your God’—to include Torah scholars” is a creative derivation. And we saw in the previous class why this is a creative derivation. We saw that the law was not known at all; the law was created within the discussion in the study hall because of this derivation. This is one of the only places where in the Talmud itself you see clearly that we are dealing with a creative derivation. And therefore Maimonides says this is actually rabbinic law. So he attacks Halakhot Gedolot with a double attack. First, according to your own approach, that this is really a detail within fear of Heaven, still there is no place to count it, because it should be included in the commandment of fearing God. I say that this is not even true: it is not included in fear of God, because it is an added rabbinic extension. It is not part of the Torah-level law of fearing God. And it should not be counted—not because it is included in the commandment of fearing God, but because it is rabbinic. So this is a double attack.
So Maimonides says—ah, it’s back. So now I’m reading the darkened section: “And if the matter were as they thought, why did they not count honoring one’s mother’s husband and one’s father’s wife as a commandment in itself, joined to honoring father and mother? And likewise honoring one’s older brother?” Because all these—“Honor your father and your mother”—comes to include one’s mother’s husband and one’s father’s wife and one’s older brother. So these too are inclusions from the word “et.” Why doesn’t Halakhot Gedolot count those? Because these people we learned we are obligated to honor through inclusion—this is one of the principles that appears in the heading: inclusion. They said, “‘your father’—to include your older brother.” And they also said, “‘your father’—to include your mother’s husband, and ‘your mother’—to include your father’s wife,” just as they said, “‘the Lord your God’—to include Torah scholars.” If so, why did they count these and not count those? So why does Halakhot Gedolot count reverence for Torah scholars but not count all the things included through these “ets” in “Honor your father and your mother”?
And again, in the background of these remarks, it seems to me that there are two attacks here. One attack is that you should not have counted it, because it is already included in the commandment that is counted. Within honoring father and mother are also included one’s older brother and one’s father’s wife and one’s mother’s husband and the like. And secondly, Maimonides says, you should not have counted it because it is rabbinic to begin with. But according to your own view—that you think it is Torah-level and you also think it deserves to be a separate commandment—then be consistent. Then count also honoring your older brother, and honoring your mother’s husband and your father’s wife. And those Halakhot Gedolot did not count.
“And they have already reached even greater absurdities than this”—now this is an important section that I’m darkening—“and that is, that when they found a derivation from a verse from which it followed that one must perform one of various acts or avoid one of various matters—and all of them are undoubtedly rabbinic.” Once again Maimonides returns to this: something that comes out of a derivation is rabbinic. “They count them among the commandments.” Yes, Halakhot Gedolot reaches such foolishness, such absurdity, that everything that comes out of a derivation, even though it is clear that a derivation is rabbinic, they count among the commandments, in the enumeration of the commandments. “Even though the plain meaning of the verse does not indicate any of these matters.” The plain meaning of the verse indicates none of this; it comes out of derivation, and nevertheless Halakhot Gedolot counts it.
There is an important hint here. According to Maimonides, the problem with derivation—why it is rabbinic—is because it does not come from the plain meaning of the verse. Torah-level law is only what comes from the plain meaning of the verse, from the straightforward sense. What comes from derivation is rabbinic. “And by the root with which they, peace be upon them, benefited us, namely their saying, ‘A verse never departs from its plain meaning,’ and the fact that the Talmud asks everywhere and says, ‘As for the verse itself, what is it speaking about?’ when they found a verse from which they learned many things by way of explanation and proof.”
Maimonides says: what misleads Halakhot Gedolot is because the Talmud says, “A verse never departs from its plain meaning.” What does that mean? Actually—sorry, not what misleads Halakhot Gedolot. What Maimonides argues against Halakhot Gedolot is: the Sages themselves say that a verse never departs from its plain meaning, and even after they extract some derivation they ask, “its plain meaning,” “the verse itself—what is it speaking about?” In other words, the verse itself is not the derivation. The verse itself has a straightforward meaning. So what? Nachmanides already comments on this: what is the problem? There is plain meaning and there is derivation, and Halakhot Gedolot says that if you read the verse on the level of plain meaning, that is one interpretation, and if you read it on the level of derivation, that is another interpretation. Both interpretations are true, both interpretations are Torah-level, and both can be included in the enumeration of the commandments. So why does Maimonides attack Halakhot Gedolot on the basis of this rule, that a verse never departs from its plain meaning?
You can already see here—and I’m getting ahead of myself—that according to Maimonides, the rule “a verse never departs from its plain meaning” means that the interpretation of the verse is only its plain meaning. “A verse never departs from its plain meaning” does not mean that it is not only the derivation that is correct, but don’t forget, there is also plain meaning. Rather, it means the derivation is not the correct interpretation. Only the plain meaning is correct. Or in other words, only the plain meaning is an interpretation of the verse, and the derivation does not constitute an interpretation of the verse. In a moment we will see this more clearly as he goes on.
“And relying on this thought,” I continue reading, “they counted among the positive commandments visiting the sick, comforting mourners, and burying the dead, because of the derivation mentioned in the verse in which the Exalted One says”—there are derivations on all these things—“‘And you shall make known to them the way in which they shall walk and the deed that they shall do.’” And they said about this: “‘the way’—this is acts of kindness; ‘they shall walk’—this is visiting the sick; ‘in it’—this is burying the dead; ‘and the deed’—these are the laws; ‘that they shall do’—this is going beyond the letter of the law.” “And they thought that each and every one of these acts is a commandment in itself. But they did not know that all these acts, and others like them, fall under one commandment among the commandments explicitly written in the Torah, namely the Exalted One’s statement, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” All this falls under “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” and therefore there is no reason to count it.
Here this is a subtle point, because on the face of it the claim here is: why are you counting it? It is already included in “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But I remind you again, Maimonides’ attack is that things that come out of derivations are rabbinic laws. Not that they are Torah-level laws but there is no reason to count them because they are included in “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”; rather, if it comes out of a derivation then it is rabbinic law. So what does it mean that you are not counting it because it is already included in “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”? So of course one can say that Maimonides is attacking Halakhot Gedolot on its own terms: even according to your own view, that this thing is Torah-level, still there is no reason to count it because it is included in “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” I myself say that it is rabbinic to begin with, and there is no reason to count it.
I’ll show you a hint of Maimonides’ own position on this issue. I’m opening Maimonides here in the Laws of Mourning, at the beginning of chapter 14. Look at law 1. “It is a positive commandment of their words to visit the sick, comfort mourners, escort out the dead, bring in the bride, escort guests, and involve oneself in all the needs of burial—to carry on the shoulder, walk before him, eulogize, dig, and bury. Likewise to gladden the bride and groom and support them. Even though all these commandments are of their words, they are included in ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” That reminds you exactly of the language here. “Anything you would want others to do for you, you should do for your brother in Torah and commandments.”
What does it mean: “Even though all these commandments are of their words, they are included in ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’”? If they are “of their words,” then they are not part of “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”; they are rabbinic. If they are part of “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” then they are Torah-level. What does that have to do with a positive commandment “of their words”?
Here it can be understood in various ways, but it seems to me that the intention is that in principle, the commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” is to love your fellow; it is a commandment of the heart; one has to love one’s fellow. The practical expressions of that love are rabbinic laws. The rabbis poured this spiritual, emotional, ethical command into practical instructions: visiting the sick, bringing in a bride, escorting guests, dealing with the needs of the dead, and so on. Now if someone does these things out of love for the other, then of course he has fulfilled the commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But someone who loves the other and does not do these things has also fulfilled the commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” because the Torah-level commandment is about the love. What happens if someone does these things but does not love the other? He does them because there is a rabbinic rule to do them. Then he has not fulfilled the commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” because the Torah-level commandment is to love the other.
So that is why Maimonides here says as follows: basically, this is a rabbinic commandment. This commandment branches off from “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” but it is only a branch; it is not that this actually is the commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” itself. If you do it out of love, then of course you fulfill “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” but not because you did the act; rather, because that act expresses love, therefore you fulfill “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
It follows from this, it seems to me, that what Maimonides says both here in the root and there is that all these obligations come out of derivation and therefore have the status of rabbinic law. But this rabbinic law is not ordinary rabbinic law; it has a connection to a Torah-level commandment that it expands. And therefore one can say that it is included in “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” in some sense, but it is still rabbinic.
Maybe I’ll phrase that more sharply. I mentioned earlier—let me go back to the root. I’m going back to the root. In the root we saw that Maimonides says that the plain interpretation is the only thing that can count as the interpretation of the verse. So then what is derivation? After all, derivation is somehow connected to the verse, so what is its status? What is its connection to the verse? It seems that Maimonides thinks derivation is some kind of expansion of the Torah-level law written in the verse. What is the novelty here? The novelty is that the other medieval authorities generally think that derivation reveals layers that are present inside the verse. As Maimonides says about Halakhot Gedolot, Halakhot Gedolot understood that when we derive reverence for Torah scholars, for us that is a detail found within the verse “You shall fear the Lord your God.” In other words, the function of derivation is to reveal details that are found within the text. Maimonides says no. The function of derivation is to expand what is written in the verse. The product of derivation is not a revelation of what was already hidden in the verse and we simply did not see it with ordinary eyes. It is not hidden inside the verse. It is an expansion beyond what is written in the verse. And this is Maimonides’ fundamental disagreement with the other medieval authorities here in this root. The question is how to understand the hermeneutical principles. And this is our logical point. The other medieval authorities think that the hermeneutical principles reveal layers or details found within the text. Maimonides argues that the hermeneutical principles expand what is in the text. After you make the derivation, the hidden treasures of the Torah have not been unveiled before you. It was not there inside. You created this law. But you created it by expanding the verse.
I may sharpen this further with a short introduction. What exactly is the difference between rabbinic law and Torah-level law? I’ll stop the sharing for a moment so I can see you. What is the difference between rabbinic law and Torah-level law? Any suggestions? What defines rabbinic law as opposed to Torah-level law? What do you say?
[Speaker D] Suppose what you said—a supporting derivation, a creative derivation.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—leave the whole world of derivations aside. Just ordinary Torah-level law versus ordinary rabbinic law. Let’s leave derivations aside for the moment. Afterwards I’ll want to apply this to derivations, but first let’s try to define the simple cases. Something written explicitly in the Torah is Torah-level. And what is rabbinic? What is rabbinic? Rabbinic enactments? Enactments, decrees, and so on. What defines all that? That it is not written in the Torah. Right? These are laws the Sages created. Okay.
Now this is an important and nontrivial point, even though it sounds trivial. People generally understand that the difference between Torah-level and rabbinic is a chronological difference. Torah-level laws are the ancient laws given at Sinai, and rabbinic laws are later laws. That is not correct. There are rabbinic laws that already existed at the revelation at Mount Sinai. These are enactments that Moses our teacher instituted. There are Torah-level laws that are created today. They did not exist then. They are created today, and still they are Torah-level laws. What distinguishes between these two things? What distinguishes between them—sorry—
[Speaker E] We consider a law given to Moses at Sinai to be Torah-level.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not a law given to Moses at Sinai. I’m talking about enactments of Moses our teacher, like the public Torah reading. A law given to Moses at Sinai is from the Holy One, blessed be He; that is something else. In a moment we’ll see that according to Maimonides even that is rabbinic, but I haven’t gotten into that yet.
Rabbinic law and Torah-level law differ from each other not in chronology, not in whether they are ancient or late, but in who created them. Did the Holy One, blessed be He, create them—then it is Torah-level. Or did the Sages create them—then it is rabbinic. That is what distinguishes Torah-level law from rabbinic law. Now, if the Sages created them at the time of the giving of the Torah—Moses our teacher—as long as he created it, it is rabbinic law; I do not care that it is from then. By contrast, if today I derive from some interpretation in the Torah that it is forbidden to open bottles on the Sabbath—there were no bottles at all one or two generations ago—that is Torah-level law. Why? Because I derived it from the Torah. It is not a new enactment that the Sages now decided to forbid; rather, from the rules we received, the rules of Torah-level law, we look at today’s reality and understand that this is forbidden because of those rules. The one who forbade it is the Torah, not the Sages. The Sages merely exposed before us that it is included in the prohibition the Torah prohibits. Right?
In other words, what the Sages do—there are Torah-level laws explicitly written in the Torah. These are called laws “that the Sadducees admit,” meaning even Sadducees, who say we accept only what is explicitly written in the Torah, accept those. But most Torah-level laws are not like that. Most Torah-level laws are laws that the Sages created. But how did they create them? They created them not by enactment or decree, but by interpretation. That is, they took a verse, interpreted it, and the product is not rabbinic law, even though the Sages created it. Why not? Because the Sages were only an instrument. They exposed for me what is written in the verse. Now, after they expose it, then for me the verse forbids it, not the Sages. The Sages are just the authorized instance empowered to reveal what is in the verse. When the Sages function as interpreters, the law they create is Torah-level law. When the Sages function as legislators, the law they create is rabbinic law.
Or in other words, the difference between Torah-level law and rabbinic law—both are almost all created by the Sages, except for laws explicitly written in the Torah—is the question of how the Sages are functioning: as interpreters or as legislators. That is the question. If the Sages function as legislators, they legislate a new law, that is a rabbinic law. If the Sages function as interpreters, then they are only interpreting the text, the verses. So after they interpret it, I discover that this is what was in the verse. So it is Torah-level law. Even though the Sages created it, right? Because the Sages did not create it; they only revealed to us that it exists. They exposed that this law exists within the verse. Now, after they expose it, I suddenly see: ah, so the verse forbids it, not the Sages. That is the difference between Torah-level law and rabbinic law. Okay?
[Speaker F] But even as legislators it’s not from nothing, I mean, they lean on—like, they derive a verse.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, never. Never. I haven’t yet spoken about derivations. Derivations are an intermediate case. I was talking about enactments and decrees. Enactments and decrees—when the Sages forbade poultry with milk out of concern lest one come to eat meat with milk, they did not derive any verse. They decided on a new law, because it seemed right to them to forbid it, from their own reasoning. That is exactly why I set out the two sides here, because now I want to enter the middle. What is a derivation?
According to the medieval authorities who understand derivation as interpretation, what are they basically saying? Torah-level, exactly. What are they basically saying? They are basically saying: we have a great many interpretive tools. There is plain interpretation, and there is interpretation using the tools of derivation. Both plain interpretation and interpretation using the tools of derivation are interpretations—different interpretive tools that yield different interpretive products, but they are all interpretation. After I do that, I understand that it was inside the verse. I exposed something that was in the verse, whether I did it with plain tools or with midrashic tools. That is how Halakhot Gedolot understands it, that is how Nachmanides understands it. Therefore, in their view, even a law that comes out of derivation is Torah-level law. Why? Because the derivation too was received from Sinai, and with derivation I use it to reveal what is inside the verse. So the product is basically what the verse says. So it is Torah-level.
Maimonides’ dispute with Nachmanides and Halakhot Gedolot begins here. Maimonides claims that derivation is not interpretation. Remember we saw this? “There is no scriptural text indicating it.” It is not true that derivation tells me that this is what the verse says. Not true. Derivation expands beyond what is in the verse. The verse says, “You shall fear the Lord your God.” According to Nachmanides, when I include from the “et” reverence for Torah scholars, Nachmanides says I exposed something further that was already in the verse. The tools of derivation helped me expose another detail, and therefore it is Torah-level because it is in the verse. Maimonides says no. The tools of derivation are tools for expanding what is in the verse. In the verse itself there is only one interpretation: fear of God. “You shall fear the Lord your God” means to fear the Holy One, blessed be He, period. Only the plain meaning is an interpretation of the verse. Derivation is not an interpretation of the verse; it does not decode the verse; it does not expose what is in the verse. It expands us beyond what is in the verse. A legitimate expansion—we received the tools of derivation from Sinai—but the tools of derivation are expanding tools, not revealing tools.
Therefore Maimonides says the product of derivation is not Torah-level law, because it is not within the Torah. Derivation did not expose something that was in the Torah. Therefore it is rabbinic law. Okay? But we have to understand that this is not rabbinic law of the type of enactments and decrees. Why not? Because at the end of the day there is some connection to the text here, right? After all, we are including it from the “et,” for example: “You shall fear the Lord your God”—to include Torah scholars. The prohibition of poultry with milk has no connection at all to the text. It is rabbinic because the Sages think it should be forbidden. No connection to the text. So what does this connection to the text mean? It means that the text is still related in some way to the result. After all, the midrashic result is an expansion of what is written in the verse. It is not a pure invention of the Sages, it is not legislation; it is interpretation in a broad sense. It is not interpretation that reveals what is in the text; it is some tool that expands the spirit of the matter. The spirit of the matter—just as one must fear the Holy One, blessed be He, one must also fear Torah scholars. Those are the tools of derivation according to Maimonides.
And therefore now you can perhaps understand—and we will see this later—that for Maimonides the laws that come out of derivations have some sort of intermediate status. It is between interpretation and legislation, and therefore it is between Torah-level and rabbinic—it is something in the middle. I will define it more clearly later, but it is something in the middle. And the background to all this distinction is actually a question of interpretation.
And this is an important point, because what we are really talking about here are two separate planes of discussion. One plane is the interpretive plane: what is the relationship of the law to the text? There are three levels, three levels of connection between a law and the text. One level is that the law is inside the text, or can be extracted from the text by straightforward tools—it is written there. So the law is inside the text. At the opposite pole there are laws not connected to the text at all—ordinary rabbinic laws, enactments, decrees, fences—laws not connected to the text at all. Midrashic laws are laws that branch out from the text, an expansion of the text. So there is a connection to the text, but it is not written there—it is an expansion. These three interpretive possibilities generate three levels of halakhic status. That is another plane of discussion.
Up to this point I was talking about an interpretive question, the question of which interpretive tool I am using: a revealing tool, an expanding tool, or an inventing tool. Now I am saying that each of the interpretive tools—or legislative tools—that I use yields a law whose halakhic status is different. Interpretive tools produce Torah-level law. Expanding tools produce not Torah-level law but words of the Sages, rabbinic law. Inventing tools—legislation—also produce rabbinic law. There is a division here, even though the first rabbinic category is more severe than the second rabbinic category, as we will see later.
That, it seems to me, is really Maimonides’ thesis. That is to say, Maimonides has a thesis that is tested on two planes. One plane is the interpretive plane; that is Maimonides’ first novelty. Maimonides’ interpretive novelty is that the hermeneutical principles are not revealing tools but expanding tools. Okay? That is an interpretive novelty. From that follows a halakhic novelty: that the law extracted from the text by means of the tools of derivation is not Torah-level law. An additional novelty. One could have said the first novelty without the second, but Maimonides says both. One could accept that the hermeneutical principles are expanding tools and not revealing tools, but still treat the product as Torah-level law, because it has a connection to the text. There might be a medieval authority who says: that kind of connection too is enough for me; that too already counts as Torah-level. There could be medieval authorities who say that midrashic laws are Torah-level laws, disagreeing with Maimonides on the halakhic determination, but agreeing with him on the interpretive determination. I’ll give you an example. There is—maybe I’ll even show it to you in the Talmud—the Ran in Nedarim.
[Speaker G] The Ran in Nedarim on page 8 says as follows.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rav Gidel said in the name of Rav: One who says, “I will get up early and learn this chapter, I will learn this tractate,” has made a great vow to the God of Israel. Right—someone who says, who vows, that he will learn a certain chapter or a certain tractate, that is a vow. The vow takes effect. The Talmud asks: But isn’t he already sworn and standing from Sinai? This, of course, is not really a vow but an oath, because a vow deals with objects, whereas here this is an oath to perform an action, the action of study. So the Talmud asks: Isn’t he already sworn and standing from Mount Sinai? And you cannot take an oath regarding a commandment, and one oath cannot take effect on top of another oath. The Talmud asks: What is this teaching us—that it is merely for self-encouragement? Maybe these are vows of encouragement; vows of encouragement are vows by which a person can spur himself on, even though there is already an oath from Sinai to do it. So the Talmud says that can’t be the point either; that is Rav Gidel’s earlier teaching—that is, we already learned that before. So the Talmud concludes: This is what it teaches us: since he could exempt himself with the recitation of Shema in the morning and evening, therefore the oath takes effect on him. What does that mean? The Talmud says as follows: basically, for the commandment of Torah study, Shema in the morning and evening is enough; that fulfills one’s obligation. Therefore, if someone vows to finish tractate Ketubot, then that is not something he is commanded to do; he is not already sworn and standing from Sinai about that. So if he vows or swears to learn tractate Ketubot, the oath takes effect, because it is not an oath to fulfill a commandment. Now here the medieval authorities (Rishonim) disagree about how to understand this. Most of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) understand that the meaning is—there is such an obligation, sorry, not most of the medieval authorities (Rishonim); there are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who understand that in fact there is no obligation beyond Shema in the morning and evening; everything else is voluntary. If you want to study, study; if you don’t want to, don’t study. It is optional, and therefore an oath can take effect on it. But the Ran learns differently. “This is what it teaches us, since he could exempt himself,” etc. I’ll read you the Ran in the marked passage: “Since he could exempt himself,” etc. It seems to me that this is not to be taken literally—that one would really exempt himself that way. In other words, it cannot be that Shema in the morning and evening is enough to exempt me from the commandment of Torah study, for every person is obligated to study Talmud by day and by night according to his capacity. Is there no such thing as neglect of Torah study? If you do not study when you are able to study, that is neglect of Torah study. So how can it be that Shema in the morning and evening is enough to exempt a person from the commandment of Torah study? And we say in the first chapter of Kiddushin: The Sages taught: “And you shall teach them diligently”—the words of Torah should be sharp in your mouth, so that if a person asks you something, you should not stammer and say…” and so on. So one needs to know the entire Torah, so that if someone asks you anything anywhere in the Torah, you can answer him. And Shema morning and evening is not sufficient for that. If you recite Shema every morning and every evening, you’ll come out a young Torah scholar and an ignoramus by Torah law; you won’t be able to answer a single question. Rather, from here it seems to me, says the Ran, proof for what I wrote in the second chapter of tractate Shevuot, that anything derived by exposition, even though it is from the Torah, since it is not explicitly stated in the verse, an oath takes effect on it. What does that mean? He says it is obvious that studying beyond Shema morning and evening is also a Torah-level law. I’ll stop here. What is going on here? To study Shema. I didn’t share it with you—did you read it with me? No. I didn’t share it. I read it. The claim, in short—I won’t go over it again; I was sure it was shared—the claim is as follows: the Ran basically says that if there are things that come from exposition—“And you shall teach them diligently,” that the words of Torah should be sharp in your mouth—they come from exposition and are not written explicitly in the Torah, then they are Torah-level, says the Ran. But if you swear to do them, that is not considered an oath on top of an oath; it is not swearing to perform a commandment, and therefore an oath takes effect on it. Why? Only something written explicitly in the Torah—if you swear regarding that, the oath is void. But if it is something derived by exposition, even though it too is Torah-level, the oath does not take effect on it. My claim is that the Ran agrees with Maimonides on his interpretive thesis, but not on his halakhic thesis. The Ran claims that if I derive something by exposition, then it is indeed an expansion of what is written in the verse; it does not expose what is already inside the verse. Therefore you cannot say that the Torah itself commands me in that exact thing, so an oath takes effect on it because I am not already sworn and standing from Sinai regarding it. At Sinai we were sworn regarding what is written in the Torah. I am not already sworn and standing from Sinai regarding this. On the other hand, the Ran says explicitly that the status of such a law is a Torah-level law. In other words, he does not accept Maimonides’ halakhic implication; he accepts his interpretive thesis, that exposition is an expanding tool and not a revealing tool, but he does not accept the conclusion that therefore this is a rabbinic law. Here is an example of why it is important to notice that Maimonides introduced two innovations here: an interpretive innovation and a halakhic innovation. The interpretive innovation is that expositions are an expanding tool and not a revealing tool. The halakhic innovation is that if some law is an expansion of a Torah-level law and not a revelation of it, then its status is rabbinic and not Torah-level. The Ran agrees with the interpretive innovation—it really is an expanding tool—but he does not agree with the halakhic innovation. Even though it is an expanding tool, in his view the law created that way is a Torah-level law. All right? So that is basically the meaning of Maimonides’ thesis. I’m going back to the root principle. Now I will share it. I continue reading from here; this sentence is less important for our purposes. “And perhaps you will think…” This is the key sentence in this whole root principle: “And perhaps you will think that I refrain from counting them because they are untrue, and whether the law derived by that method is true or untrue.” Maimonides says: that is not the reason. In other words, it is not that I, Maimonides, say that a law derived by exposition should not be counted among the commandments because those laws are untrue. Maimonides says: that is not the reason. But the reason is—so what is the reason?—because whatever a person derives, meaning by exposition, these are branches from the roots that were said to Moses at Sinai with explanation, and those are the 613 commandments. And even if Moses our teacher himself were to derive them, it would not be proper to count them. That is the key phrase in this whole root principle. Maimonides says this: what a person derives from the verse through exposition is like branches coming out of roots. The roots are the verses that were said to Moses at Sinai with explanation, as if explicitly, and exposition is drawing branches out of the roots. That is exactly the metaphor that illustrates what I said before, that the role of exposition is to expand what is in the verse and not to reveal what is hidden in it. And the metaphor is branches coming out of roots. Therefore, says Maimonides, the fact that I do not count what comes from exposition is not because I disagree with it or because it is incorrect. It is correct, but it is an expansion of what is written in the verse and not a revelation of what is inside it. Therefore I do not count it. What, then, is written explicitly in the verse? That is the 613 commandments. What is counted among the 613 commandments is only what is written in the verses themselves, or by straightforward means. Therefore, with expositions—even if Moses himself derived it, even if Moses our teacher expounded it himself—it makes no difference, because of course Moses did not make a mistake, but still, he derived it from the verse; he did not reveal it but expanded it, and therefore it is not proper to count them. And now Maimonides brings proof for this. “And the proof for all this is what they said in tractate Temurah: seventeen hundred a fortiori inferences, verbal analogies, and scribal fine points were forgotten during the days of mourning for Moses, and nevertheless Othniel son of Kenaz restored them through his dialectic, as it is said: ‘And Caleb said, Whoever strikes Kiriath-sefer and captures it…’ and Othniel son of Kenaz captured it.” Yes, that is a Talmudic passage that expounds it from verses there. And when they were thus forgotten—think about it—there were 1,700 laws learned from expositions that were forgotten. Why were they forgotten during the mourning for Moses? Because nobody studied Torah then; they had to mourn, and a mourner is forbidden from Torah study. When you don’t study and everything is oral, you forget. So Maimonides says: if 1,700 were forgotten, then how many in total must there have been? Think how many there were altogether, including those that were not forgotten—many more, obviously. Right? So what follows? Therefore Maimonides says—this is the section I may have skipped—Maimonides says that if you count all the things that come from expositions, then how will you ever get to 613 commandments? You have thousands of commandments. There he is attacking the Behag. Therefore it cannot be that we are supposed to count every single thing derived by exposition. “For it is also false to say that everything known was forgotten.” No, they did not forget all the laws. “And without doubt those laws derived by a fortiori reasoning and the other hermeneutic principles were many thousands. And had all of them been known in those days”—all of them were known in the days of Moses our teacher, because during the mourning they were forgotten. In other words, here we are already talking about laws that were known in the time of Moses our teacher. So if you count the expository laws that existed in the time of Moses, you should have reached thousands of commandments. How can there be 613? “Behold, it has become clear to you that even in the days of Moses they spoke of scribal fine points; for everything that was not heard at Sinai with explanation”—what does that mean? Everything not written in the Torah or revealed from it—“behold, it is from the words of the scribes,” even if it was in the time of Moses. “It has already become clear,” says Maimonides, “that among the 613 commandments said to Moses at Sinai, one does not count everything that is learned through the thirteen principles, even in his own time, peace be upon him.” In other words, everything known in Moses’ time; all the more so one does not count among them what was derived later on, as time went on. “But one does count what was an accepted interpretation from him”—meaning from Moses—“and that the transmitters explain and say that this thing is forbidden to do and its prohibition is Torah-level, or they say that it is part of the Torah itself—behold, we count it, for it is known through tradition and not through inference.” That is a supportive exposition and not a creative exposition; a supportive exposition is a Torah-level law. “And the mention of the inference in it, and the bringing of proof for it by one of the thirteen principles, is to show the wisdom of Scripture,” as we explained in the Commentary on the Mishnah, which was also brought at the beginning of this root principle; we read that above. Maimonides says at the end: so basically a Torah-level law is only what is explicitly written in the Torah. Something expanded from the Torah by means of the hermeneutic principles is not a Torah-level law. Enactments, decrees, and safeguards are of course not Torah-level laws. What about a supportive exposition? A supportive exposition also, ostensibly, should not be a Torah-level law. Why do I care that it supports it? Bottom line, it is not written in the Torah, right? According to Maimonides, only what is written in the Torah is Torah-level. So a supportive exposition is not written in the Torah, so why should it be counted? But Maimonides says yes. So what?
[Speaker I] There is a tradition that it is a Torah-level law, there is—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is a tradition that it is Torah-level, so what? So—
[Speaker I] Therefore it is counted.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And then what does that tradition say?
[Speaker I] Even though the exposition is only supportive—but how can that be?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Is this thing really a rabbinic law? How can there be a tradition about it that it is a Torah-level law? After all, in reality it is a rabbinic law; it is not written in the Torah. Why should I care about the tradition? What, does the tradition say that day is night? I’m disconnecting Maimonides—let’s see you again. Nachmanides indeed attacks Maimonides on this point; he attacks him from several directions. I said that I’m skipping a bit because I want us to leave this class with some overall picture; now we are going into a break of several weeks. Actually I should have done this in many more intermediate stages, and I’ll continue them later. Nachmanides asks Maimonides many questions. Among them, one of the questions he asks is: how does this miracle happen that Maimonides talks about at the end of the root principle, what we just read? Because what comes out of Maimonides is something very strange. Maimonides says that the hermeneutic principles are a law given to Moses at Sinai; all the medieval authorities (Rishonim) agree, and Maimonides says this too. The biblical text is also a law given to Moses at Sinai, right? Now you take hermeneutic tools that are a law given to Moses at Sinai, apply them to a text that was also given at Sinai, and the result was not given at Sinai? After all, there is no legislation by the Sages here. They are taking tools we received from the Holy One, blessed be He, applying them to verses given to us by the Holy One, blessed be He, so the result is something that came from the Holy One, blessed be He. How does that become rabbinic? Now, to that I already gave an explanation, right? We already answered these questions. What did I answer? That these tools are expanding tools and not revealing tools. We received these tools from the Holy One, blessed be He, but the Holy One, blessed be He, also told us: know that these tools do not reveal additional layers inside the verses of the Torah, but are tools through which you expand beyond what is in the Torah. Okay? But Nachmanides asks another question. Maimonides writes in several places that even a law given to Moses at Sinai is “from the words of the scribes,” which is really astonishing. Expositions you can still argue about—but a law given to Moses at Sinai? That is a law transmitted to us from the Holy One, blessed be He, just like the Torah, except that it was not written down but transmitted orally. So what? Why is that “from the words of the scribes”? You can see in Maimonides in several places that it is indeed “from the words of the scribes.” Nachmanides says: now I really don’t understand. A law given to Moses at Sinai—that is, a law that comes to us by tradition from Sinai—is rabbinic according to Maimonides, right? A law created by exposition, by one of the hermeneutic principles, is also rabbinic. But if there is a law that comes by tradition and we anchored it in a verse through exposition, by a hermeneutic principle, then it is Torah-level? How does zero plus zero make one? In other words, a law given to Moses at Sinai, a law that comes by tradition, is “from the words of the scribes” because it is not written in the Torah. A law derived by exposition—the exposition expands, so it does not reveal what is in the Torah—that too is “from the words of the scribes.” Right? But if I have a law that comes by tradition and I also have an exposition that derives it from Scripture—what we earlier called a supportive exposition—that is Torah-level, and that too is counted among the commandments. How does this miracle happen? How does zero plus zero equal one? Of course, if I present it in this arithmetic way.
[Speaker I] It’s half plus half equals one, not zero plus zero. Right. Half is not yet one, so it is not Torah-level, but that doesn’t mean it is zero.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It is half; it just doesn’t pass the threshold to be Torah-level. But half plus half gives me one, which does pass the threshold. Okay? Let me maybe give you an example: secondary force. So people discuss whether a person’s force is considered like his body or not. In the end, as a practical halakhic ruling, his force is like his body, but secondary force is not. What does that mean? If his force is like his body, and his secondary force is like his force, then what is the problem? So secondary force is also like his body. And onward to infinity—secondary-secondary force, and so on. Right? For example, an animal that flips a stone and that stone flips another stone, and that second stone causes damage. That is the animal’s secondary force. Right? The animal’s own force is its force, but its secondary force is not. Why? What is the difference? If you identify its force with its body, then its secondary force is like its force. So now by transitivity, its secondary force is like its force, which is like its body. What’s the problem? The answer is the same answer. “Its force is like its body” means, say, that its force is seventy percent of its body. I’m just playing with arithmetic here to illustrate. Okay? Seventy percent is good enough; let’s say the threshold is fifty percent. So if you are above fifty percent of the body, that is enough. Secondary force is seventy percent of the force, right? So how much is that relative to the body? Forty-nine. Forty-nine percent, right? 0.7 squared. Okay? So that is less than fifty percent. Therefore secondary force is not like the body. In other words, many times we are used to thinking in a binary way: either it is Torah-level or it is not Torah-level; either it is like the body or it is not like the body. There are sometimes situations—not sometimes, actually, always—there are situations in which the logic is continuous logic, what is called fuzzy logic. We spoke about this a bit in last semester’s class. This is fuzzy logic. What does that mean? That there are different degrees of, say, 0.3 Torah-level, 0.6 Torah-level, 0.8 Torah-level, and fully Torah-level. Now they may tell us, for example, that everything above 0.8 counts as Torah-level, and whatever is below that does not. All right? That can also be; there does not have to be some dichotomous division here, either you are fully Torah-level or not Torah-level at all. And therefore one has to take into account that when they tell me, for example, that something backed by tradition is not Torah-level, they do not mean to say that it is nothing at all, that it is fully rabbinic. It is not sufficiently Torah-level for its doubtful cases to be treated stringently. So it is only seventy percent Torah-level, fine? But if it also has an exposition behind it—an exposition too is only seventy percent—then that by itself is still not enough. But both together can give us—here it is not 0.7 times 0.7 but rather addition, yes? So it becomes something that is, say, already above 0.8 Torah-level, and therefore enough for me to consider it Torah-level. Let me perhaps give an illustration of this. Binary logic is a topic I’m very fond of, because people make mistakes with it a lot. This is what is called the heap paradox. In the heap paradox, they say to me like this: one grain of gravel is not a heap. Right? Now if you have a pile that is not a heap and you add one grain of gravel, that won’t change its status, right? That seems reasonable. But a million grains of gravel are a heap; that is obvious. Now you understand that these three claims do not fit together. If one grain of gravel is not a heap, and adding one grain does not change the status, then two are also not a heap, and therefore three are not, and four are not, and five are not—so up to a million also not. So how does it suddenly become a heap at a million? The answer is that one of these claims must be false, because they do not fit together. Which claim is false? The second one. So what is true? What is the correct formulation? It is easy to point out that this is false; the question is what the correct alternative is.
[Speaker J] That from a certain stage onward, adding one grain does change the—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That is a formal solution, but there is no such stage. You cannot tell me a number from which onward it is a heap. In our language, that is certainly not true. I think the answer is that adding one grain of gravel changes the degree of “heap-ness” of the pile a little bit. The concept “heap” is not black or white; it is not zero or one. There is a continuum of levels of heap-ness. And the more stones there are, the greater the degree of heap-ness. Therefore it is really incorrect for me to speak in terms of yes-heap and no-heap. It is somewhat of a heap, very much a heap, completely a heap, a little bit of a heap, that one is not a heap at all. If you like, between zero and one—any number you want—that is the degree of heap-ness between zero and one. That is called—
[Speaker H] Yes, for Maimonides it is a little bit, a little bit Torah-level. Right? For Maimonides it is a little bit, a little bit Torah-level. Yes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In a moment we’ll talk about it—not in a moment, on the next pages—but yes, I’ll show you that. We’ll talk about it. And the point is that very often we are used to thinking dichotomously, and that gets us into contradictions. Let me give you an example. Suppose I want to argue against exams. So I say, look: if the student is lazy, then no exam will make him study, right? So there is no point in giving exams. If he is diligent, then he studies even without exams. So either way, there is no point in giving exams. What is the difficulty here? There may be a person who is not pathologically diligent—
[Speaker K] There is no point in giving them to the diligent or to the lazy, according to what you said. Right, but to whom yes? To everyone in the middle. To everyone in the middle.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Or in other words, diligence and laziness do not obey binary logic.
[Speaker K] Those are just two poles.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There is a continuum of levels of diligence between zero and one, and in some interval in the middle it is worthwhile to give the exam. At the sides, at the extremes, it is not worthwhile. But again, the mistake lies in assuming that the world is divided binarily—binary logic or this kind of dichotomy of yes or no. Nothing in the world behaves that way. Right? Just like the heap paradox, there is the bald-man paradox. What is the bald-man paradox? A person with one hair is bald, right? If you add one more hair to a bald person, that won’t change his status. But a person with a hundred thousand hairs is not bald. Again the same question. And what is the answer? That adding one hair changes the degree of baldness of the person a little. Right? It is basically the same thing. Or when is it afternoon? My children used to ask me when they were little: when is it allowed to go outside, because you’re not allowed to make noise? When is it afternoon? For Americans, as you know, one second after twelve is afternoon. But for us it’s not like that. So from when? I don’t know; there is no answer to that. There are different degrees of afternoon. The farther you get from twelve, the deeper into afternoon you are. And at some point the law will set some threshold—say at four o’clock—from which onward it is already allowed to go out. But that is an artificial threshold. The concept afternoon is not defined at four o’clock; rather, it is a concept that is not binary, it is fuzzy.
[Speaker L] Can these concepts even be defined at all? For example, can you give a good definition of the concept “heap”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. Not only of “heap”; of no concept in the world can you give a good definition. Take—you know Escher’s metamorphoses? Escher’s metamorphoses, where birds turn into fish and vice versa. You know it? Never mind, take the simplest software in the world. Take two pictures, okay? Of a fish and a bird. Now create—there used to be software like this in DOS, before there was Windows. There was software where you would take—there were men from ten ethnic backgrounds: Black, Chinese, WASP, and so on—ten backgrounds, and also women from ten backgrounds. You would take a man from one background and a woman from another background and ask what the child would look like. So the software would say: give me input. If it was 0.9 of the man plus 0.1 of the woman, you would see a child very similar to the man but with a bit of the woman in him. If you changed the weighting, 0.8 and 0.2, then it already looks more like the woman, right? If you reverse it, then at 0.1 and 0.9 it will be almost the woman. And one and zero will be exactly the woman. Or in other words, you have a parameter p, right? It is p times A plus one minus p times B. It is simply interpolation. Interpolation between A and B. And when you move p between zero and one, you run continuously from A to B. If you run from fish to bird and back, you cannot tell me at what stage you pass from fish to bird. Or from any picture to any other picture, it doesn’t matter which. From when do you pass from red to yellow? There is no way to determine that. There are colors that are less and less red and more and more yellow. I do not know exactly where the line is, from what point it stops being red and starts being yellow. It is simply not correct to speak that way. There is no absolute yellow and absolute red; there are different shades, with clear red and yellow at the ends, and a continuum in the middle. Now, also on the plane of Torah-level and rabbinic, that is my claim about Maimonides: on the plane of Torah-level and rabbinic too there is a continuum. A continuum of degrees that starts with the question of how connected it is to the text. One level, complete connection to the text—that is Torah-level. Absence of connection to the text, zero—that is rabbinic. That is safeguards, decrees, and enactments. Right? And the first category is a law that the Sadducees would also agree with. Expositions are something that has a connection to the text, but not a full connection. You cannot say that it is in the text. It is an expansion; the spirit of the matter appears there too. It resembles the text in our metamorphosis. The p is around half—0.4, 0.7. In other words, there is something of the text in it, but it is something in the middle. Okay? And therefore it is some sort of intermediate status between Torah-level and rabbinic, and I will want to show in later classes the implications of this—how in Maimonides one sees this coming to expression. Therefore here, in these last few minutes, we reached the logical point of the matter, because our topic is issues in logic. So everything I did until now was just read Maimonides and explain what he says, but here in these last few minutes I tried to show you what the logical structure is that stands behind what Maimonides says. The logical structure behind it is that basically we have continuous logic here. The transition from Torah-level to rabbinic is like the transition from lazy to diligent, or from noon to afternoon, or from whatever you want, fish and bird. It is a continuous transition, and there are different degrees of Torah-ness. Zero Torah-ness is fully rabbinic. One Torah-ness is fully Torah-level. There are many intermediate levels. And Maimonides claims that these intermediate levels are not Torah-level, at least not fully. But we will see that with respect to some of the implications, they will indeed be like Torah-level. There will be halakhic implications to it. In other words, there is a difference between this and ordinary rabbinic law. It is not just a label. Okay? So that is basically the picture. I just wanted to close this off so you can see where we stand. We will spell this out more in the next class, which will already be after Passover. I hope it will already be face to face, but if not then we’ll meet on Zoom, and I wish you a kosher and happy holiday.
[Speaker I] Happy holiday. Happy holiday. Thank you very much.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, just one second before you leave, wait a second—before you leave, I’m doing an exercise now. Wait, I’m just taking attendance, one second. Wait, what is going on here? One second.
[Speaker M] Rabbi, can I send it to you as a picture?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, wait, I’m practicing now, but I still want to learn this. My son just taught me, so now I’m checking whether I’ve mastered the material. Really? There is? Absolutely, I’ve mastered it well.
[Speaker C] Okay, great.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So as far as I’m concerned, we’re done. Thank you. Thank you very much. Have a happy holiday.
[Speaker C] Thank you very much. Happy holiday. Happy holiday. Thank you very much. Happy holiday. Meaning that the whole of creation came in order to serve the human being, and the human being is the purpose of everything. And this is a very important point that we need to remember: when we talk about the greatness of the human being, we are not talking about pride; we are talking about the responsibility placed on the human being’s shoulders. If the world was created for me, then I need to repair the world. This is the foundation of the entire Torah. The Sages say that every person is obligated to say, “The world was created for me”—not as a privilege, but as an obligation.