The Rationales and Reasons for the Commandments – Lecture 5
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- The prohibition of leavened food as historical memory and a personal obligation
- Maimonides, the prohibition of benefit, and half a measure regarding leavened food
- The measures for leaven and leavened food in tractate Beitzah and the rationale for prohibiting leaven
- Leaven, “unfit for eating,” and citric acid: a practical halakhic anecdote
- Maimonides’ explanation of Rabbi Abbahu’s rule and the distinction between object-based prohibitions and action-based prohibitions
- The sciatic nerve as a parallel historical prohibition to Passover
- The Paschal offering between individual and communal sacrifice, and the definition of “in a gathering”
- The section of the second Passover and the difficulty in the claim “Why should we be diminished?”
- The second Passover as an independent commandment: Sefer HaChinukh, Maimonides, and the dispute between Rabbi and Rabbi Natan
- Correlation and causation: a new interpretation of the connection between the first and second Passover
- Kant’s categorical imperative, the prisoner’s dilemma, and the creation of a public
- The Paschal offering as a communal offering that creates the public, and the meaning of the second Passover
- Circumcision, Passover, karet, and the duty of belonging
- Public commandments, individual responsibility, and Hakhel and Torah reading
Summary
General Overview
The lecture presents the prohibition of leavened food as rooted in the memory of the Exodus from Egypt and in the obligation of a person to perform a kind of “simulation” of the Exodus, rather than as a prohibition stemming from some intrinsic defect in leaven itself. As a result, it is interpreted more as a personal obligation than as a prohibition inherent in the object. This direction is used to explain difficulties in Maimonides’ approach regarding the need for special textual sources for the prohibition of deriving benefit and for half a measure of leavened food. It also explains the passage in Beitzah about the legal measures for leaven and leavened food and about the prohibition of leaven even though it is unfit for eating. Later, the lecture deepens the meaning of the Paschal offering as a mechanism that creates a public through the coordinated action of individuals “in a gathering,” and explains the second Passover as an independent commandment that allows joining a public that has already been formed. To do this, the lecture uses conceptual tools from Kant’s categorical imperative and from the prisoner’s dilemma to define how private responsibility creates collective consciousness. It parallels this to the distinction between a standard communal offering and the Paschal offering, and concludes with a comparison to public commandments such as Hakhel and Torah reading, where the commandment is fulfilled publicly but the individual bears personal responsibility to participate.
The prohibition of leavened food as historical memory and a personal obligation
The prohibition of leavened food is interpreted as a direct continuation of the fact that “our ancestors’ dough did not have time to rise,” and therefore a person refrains from leaven in order to identify with the Exodus from Egypt, not because leaven is disgusting in itself. The prohibitions of “it shall not be seen” and “it shall not be found” are given the same logic, because the point is that just as our ancestors had no leaven, so too we should not have leaven, as part of “a person is obligated to present himself as if he went out of Egypt.” This distinction runs against a common conception in Hasidic and philosophical literature that presents leaven as a symbol of something loathsome that a person removes from the soul. The move places the prohibition of leaven in the realm of human action and historical memory, rather than as the definition of a forbidden object like pork, blood, or other food prohibitions.
Maimonides, the prohibition of benefit, and half a measure regarding leavened food
The Talmud in tractate Pesachim brings Rabbi Abbahu’s view that anywhere Scripture says “do not eat / it shall not be eaten,” it includes also a prohibition of deriving benefit, and Maimonides rules this as Jewish law as a general principle. Despite this, at the beginning of the laws of leaven and matzah, Maimonides brings a special source for the prohibition of deriving benefit specifically according to Hezekiah’s view, which disagrees with Rabbi Abbahu, and the difficulty is raised: why is an additional source needed if the prohibition of benefit is in any case learned from every prohibition of eating? In addition, Maimonides there brings a special source for the prohibition of half a measure of leaven, even though according to the dispute in Yoma, Jewish law follows Rabbi Yohanan that half a measure is prohibited by the Torah throughout the Torah. The Minchat Chinukh writes in this context that this means specifically half, and the lecture suggests that the special sources in Maimonides fit with the conception that leaven is not a regular object-based prohibition but rather an action-based prohibition imposed on the person.
The measures for leaven and leavened food in tractate Beitzah and the rationale for prohibiting leaven
In tractate Beitzah there is a dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel: according to Beit Shammai, “leaven is in an olive’s bulk and leavened food is in the size of a date,” while according to Beit Hillel, “both this and that are in an olive’s bulk.” At the beginning of the passage, the Talmud understands this as referring to the prohibition of eating. Beit Shammai explain the distinction in measures by saying that the Torah wrote both leavened food and leaven in order to teach that there is a difference between them, and they build a kal va-ḥomer: if leavened food, whose leavening is lighter, is prohibited, then leaven, whose leavening is stronger, all the more so should be prohibited. Beit Hillel do not reject the basic structure of that reasoning, but argue that leaven is unfit for eating, and it is even stated in the Tosefta that it is not fit even for a dog’s consumption, and therefore it cannot be learned from leavened food. The lecture asks how it is possible to derive a prohibition of eating regarding something unfit for eating, and proposes that the solution depends on understanding that the prohibition on Passover does not rest on defining the object as problematic food, but on its identity as leaven in the context of the Exodus from Egypt.
Leaven, “unfit for eating,” and citric acid: a practical halakhic anecdote
An anecdote is brought about expert testimony in a class-action lawsuit from 2004 against a canning company that sold tomato paste with Passover certification from the rabbinate, and the certification was removed two days before Passover because of concern about citric acid containing gluten and possibly leaven. A position attributed to Rabbi Ovadia and other halakhic decisors is quoted, according to which citric acid is not leaven because the chemical processes turn it into “something entirely unfit for eating, like dust,” and “a new substance has come here,” so returning it later into the product does not restore its original relevance. It is also quoted that Rabbi Ben Zion Abba Shaul argued against Rabbi Ovadia and claimed that on Passover there is a prohibition even on something unfit for eating, using an argument from leaven, and a note is made about confusion between “barley” and “leaven” in his words as presented in the quotations. The lecture notes that the Shulchan Arukh discusses on Passover hardened leaven and things unfit for eating, and sharpens the point that the basic question of why leaven is prohibited even though it is unfit for eating remains a key point for understanding the foundation of the prohibition of leavened food.
Maimonides’ explanation of Rabbi Abbahu’s rule and the distinction between object-based prohibitions and action-based prohibitions
Maimonides’ explanation is presented: in Rabbi Abbahu’s rule, a “prohibition of eating” serves as an example of a prohibition of deriving benefit, because eating is the most common form of benefit, just as “if one man’s ox gores another man’s ox” is an example of monetary damage generally and not only of an ox goring an ox. This explanation fits object-based prohibitions, where the Torah prohibits the object from benefit and eating is merely an example. By contrast, when the prohibition concerns the person’s action as a form of historical remembrance, eating is not an example of benefit but the very action that is forbidden, and therefore there is no necessity that benefit be prohibited by the same rule, so a special source is needed. Along the same lines, it is explained why action-based prohibitions do not necessarily include the law of half a measure, and the question of the Sefat Emet at the beginning of tractate Shabbat is mentioned regarding lifting without placing down in the prohibition of carrying, and the claim that there is no law of half a measure in action-based prohibitions.
The sciatic nerve as a parallel historical prohibition to Passover
It is argued that the same pattern is evident in the prohibition of the sciatic nerve: Maimonides holds that there is no prohibition of deriving benefit from it, and that there is no prohibition of half a measure, contrary to what seems to emerge from the Talmud in Pesachim in the context of Rabbi Abbahu’s exposition. The sciatic nerve is described as a historical prohibition, “as a remembrance of our forefather Jacob,” and as such it does not stem from the loathsomeness of the object but from an obligation to act in remembrance. The fact that the nerve “is not fit for eating… like wood” and is nevertheless prohibited fits the conception that the prohibition does not depend on its being edible food but on its identity within a framework of binding remembrance. The parallel between the sciatic nerve and leaven highlights that in both cases we are dealing with exceptional prohibitions in relation to the usual patterns of food prohibitions.
The Paschal offering between individual and communal sacrifice, and the definition of “in a gathering”
A halakhic distinction is presented between an individual offering and a communal offering: a communal offering comes from the Temple treasury and usually has a fixed time, while an individual offering comes from the individual and does not have a fixed time. The Paschal offering is described as standing in the middle, because it does not come from the Temple treasury but it does have a fixed time. Proof is brought from the Talmud in Yoma 51, which asks why the Paschal offering is called an individual offering while the festival offering is called a communal offering, and explains that the communal dimension is that it “comes in a gathering,” meaning an action of many people together at one time even though each one brings his own. The Talmud explains that the Paschal offering is not fully called a communal offering because there is a second Passover, which “does not come in a gathering,” and therefore the general definition of the Paschal offering remains different. From here we learn that there is an additional concept of “communal offering” that is not limited to one offering brought from the Temple treasury, but also includes a collection of individual offerings performed together as a communal act.
The section of the second Passover and the difficulty in the claim “Why should we be diminished?”
The verses in Beha’alotekha describe men who were “impure by reason of a human corpse” and could not offer the Passover at its appointed time, and they demand, “Why should we be diminished so as not to offer the offering of the Lord at its appointed time among the children of Israel?” Moses answers, “Stand still, and I will hear what the Lord will command concerning you.” God commands the second Passover on the fourteenth of Iyar: “In the second month, on the fourteenth day at twilight they shall make it; with matzot and bitter herbs they shall eat it,” and the law is stated for “you or your generations.” The Sages add that not only one who was impure or on a distant journey, but also one who erred, was coerced, or even acted intentionally, may offer on the second Passover, and there are discussions about karet and when the obligation takes effect. The lecture emphasizes that the tone of “Why should we be diminished?” assumes an unusual demand to make up for the missed commandment, and raises the question of what is so special about Passover that missing it is perceived as a blow to belonging and not merely as a one-time missed opportunity.
The second Passover as an independent commandment: Sefer HaChinukh, Maimonides, and the dispute between Rabbi and Rabbi Natan
Sefer HaChinukh, in commandment 57, brings the law that the second Passover also applies to one who erred, was coerced, or acted intentionally and did not offer the first Passover. Maimonides counts the second Passover as positive commandment 57 and raises a difficulty for himself based on the seventh root of his enumeration method, where he established that details within one commandment are not counted as separate commandments, and therefore one might have thought to see the second Passover as merely a detail or another option within Passover. Maimonides answers that the Sages disputed whether the second Passover is governed by the same law as the first Passover or whether “a command was stated independently,” and the Jewish law is that it was stated as an independent command, so it is fitting to count it as a separate commandment, with an allusion to the dispute in Pesachim over whether the second Passover is compensation or “a festival in its own right.” The practical difference is mentioned regarding a minor who came of age between the two Passovers or a convert who converted between the two Passovers, who would be obligated in the second Passover if it is a festival in its own right, as well as a discussion of Rabbi Chayyim about a minor who offered the first Passover and is exempt from the second because of “fulfillment of a commandment” even without formal obligation.
Correlation and causation: a new interpretation of the connection between the first and second Passover
It is argued that the verses present a correlation: one who brought the first Passover is exempt from the second Passover, and one who did not bring it is obligated in the second Passover, but a causal relationship of “compensation” is not explicitly written. The lecture uses philosophical and statistical examples to distinguish between correlation and causation, including Leibniz’s clocks and examples involving diet and smoking, and stresses that a causal conclusion requires a mechanism and not only factual correspondence. Accordingly, the wording of the law according to Rabbi is explained not as “whoever did not bring the first becomes obligated in the second,” but as “whoever brought the first is exempt from the second,” while the obligation of the second stands as an independent commandment. This move is meant to allow an understanding of “Why should we be diminished?” even when the second Passover is not defined as compensation for the first.
Kant’s categorical imperative, the prisoner’s dilemma, and the creation of a public
The lecture presents the argument about the justification for going to vote when one individual vote almost never makes a difference, and the claim that “what will happen if everyone does as you do” is not a valid causal argument on the personal level. Kant’s categorical imperative is presented as a thought experiment: a moral act is judged by whether it would be fitting for everyone to act that way as a universal law, without relying on actual consequences. The prisoner’s dilemma is described as a case where the rational personal strategy leads to a bad collective result, and the solution requires trust and coordination based on public interest. It is argued that the irony is that precisely by ignoring the personal consequentialist calculation, one ultimately creates a better public result, and society functions on the basis of a kind of “gentleman’s agreement” in which the individual bears responsibility even when there is no measurable personal gain.
The Paschal offering as a communal offering that creates the public, and the meaning of the second Passover
It is argued that a standard communal offering functions when a public already exists, and that public brings a single offering from the Temple treasury, similar to governmental action that does not require coordination and trust among individuals. The Paschal offering is defined as “coming in a gathering” because each individual brings his own, but everyone does it together, and this coordinated action is the mechanism that turns a collection of individuals into a “public.” In this sense, the Paschal offering is called a communal offering in that it creates the public, and it is foundational to the Exodus from Egypt and the formation of a people; therefore missing the Passover is perceived as a diminishment of belonging “among the children of Israel.” The second Passover is explained as an individual offering brought after the public has already been formed, and therefore it allows a person to join an already existing public rather than to “create a public” anew in a gathering, which fits the fact that there is no principled situation of “all Israel” in the second Passover. The explanation also connects this to the law of impurity on the first Passover, because creating the public requires the offering to be brought at its appointed time, and ties back to the idea that each year Passover reenacts the creation of the public anew as part of “presenting oneself as though one had left Egypt.”
Circumcision, Passover, karet, and the duty of belonging
It is said that “no uncircumcised male may eat of it” because one who is not circumcised is not fully part of the Jewish people and cannot create the Jewish public through the Paschal offering. It is emphasized that circumcision and Passover are the two positive commandments that carry karet, and this is explained by their foundational role in making a person part of Jewish identity, to the point that without them there is no basis for the rest of the system. The connection between karet and the foundations of joining the people places Passover as a constitutive obligation and not merely as another food prohibition or memorial ritual.
Public commandments, individual responsibility, and Hakhel and Torah reading
Sefer HaChinukh is cited regarding the commandment of Hakhel, that if the majority of Israel came up the commandment was fulfilled, but one who did not come “has nullified the commandment,” and the question is raised: how can a commandment be both fulfilled and nullified at the same time? The explanation states that a public commandment is fulfilled on the side of the public when the public performs it, but each individual bears personal responsibility to participate so as not to endanger the very fulfillment of the public obligation, because if every individual says “let the public do it,” no functioning public will come into being. The expression “a pot belonging to partners is neither hot nor cold” is used to show that a public obligation without private responsibility will collapse, and therefore an individual who evades participation is considered to have neglected a positive commandment even when the public in fact exists. The parallel to Torah reading explains why there is language of public obligation and yet a demand on the individual not to withdraw, because the individual is obligated to contribute his part to the fulfillment of the public act.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the previous lecture before Passover I spoke
[Speaker B] about the meaning of
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the prohibition of
[Speaker B] leavened food.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And I thought that, along the line we’ve been dealing with regarding the reasons for the commandments, the relationship between the reason and the commandment, it would be worthwhile to touch on the topic of Passover, now that we’re a week before Passover, from another angle that connects to the angle I spoke about there. I said there that we saw at least several indications in Maimonides’ approach that the prohibition of leavened food, contrary to what is often written in Hasidic books, books of thought and so on—that leaven is something disgusting, that searching for leaven means eliminating disgusting things from the soul—actually, from the halakhic point of view, leaven is not at all a personal prohibition, it is an object-based prohibition—no, not an object-based prohibition at all. And you can see this in several contexts. For example, Maimonides’ approach, or really the Talmud, brings a dispute in Pesachim about the relationship between prohibitions of eating and prohibitions of deriving benefit, and Jewish law follows Rabbi Abbahu, who said that everywhere it says “do not eat,” “it shall not be eaten,” “you shall not eat,” it implies both a prohibition of eating and a prohibition of deriving benefit. Meaning that every prohibition of eating—once the Torah prohibits something from being eaten—it is also prohibited for benefit. And Maimonides rules this as Jewish law, and along with that, at the beginning of the laws of Passover, leaven and matzah, Maimonides brings a special source for the prohibition of deriving benefit; he brings specifically the prohibition according to Hezekiah, who disagrees with Rabbi Abbahu and is not the accepted Jewish law. He holds that because the Torah uses passive language, “it shall not be eaten,” and not “you shall not eat,” therefore we learn that this is also a prohibition of deriving benefit and not only a prohibition of eating. And they already ask there: how can that be? Once there is a prohibition of eating, we automatically learn from that that there is also a prohibition of deriving benefit—so why do we need a separate source to prohibit benefit? The Kesef Mishneh struggles there, and others also ask this on Maimonides. There is another ruling of Maimonides there, law 7 as well, also at the beginning of the laws of leaven and matzah, where he brings a special source for the prohibition of half a measure of leaven, even though throughout the entire Torah there is a dispute between Rabbi Yohanan and Reish Lakish in Yoma, and as a matter of Jewish law we rule like Rabbi Yohanan that half a measure is prohibited by the Torah. You don’t get lashes for it, you’re not punished for it, but it is prohibited by the Torah. And here, with leaven, Maimonides brings a special source in order to prohibit half a measure of leaven. The Minchat Chinukh even writes that this means specifically half, and not part of a measure like a third or a quarter or something like that, but specifically half. So I said that maybe this can be understood in light of a Talmudic passage in tractate Beitzah. The Talmud there brings the Mishnah at the beginning of Beitzah, which presents a dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel on the question of what the legal measure of leaven is. So the Talmud says, the Mishnah says: “Leaven is in an olive’s bulk and leavened food is in the size of a date,” according to Beit Shammai, and Beit Hillel say, “Both this and that are in an olive’s bulk.” Meaning that according to Beit Shammai, the measure for leavened food is a date’s bulk. The Talmud discusses whether this is for eating or for “it shall not be seen,” but at least in the first part of the passage on page 7, the Talmud understands that this refers to the prohibition of eating and not to the prohibition of “it shall not be seen.” And in the course of the discussion between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, Beit Shammai bring a source for their words—for why they distinguish in legal measure between leavened food and leaven. They say: why does the Torah need to write both leavened food and leaven, or “leaven and all leavened food shall not be seen,” and so on—why write both? After all, if leavened food is prohibited, whose leavening is lighter, then leaven, whose leavening is stronger, all the more so should be prohibited. Rather, it is to teach that there is a difference between the measures. Otherwise there is an unnecessary duplication here. And Beit Hillel, who disagree with them, disagree not about the logic itself, but claim there is another logic as well, because the fact is that leaven is unfit for eating. After all, leaven—the Tosefta says that leaven is not fit even for a dog’s consumption. Things that are not fit for eating are not prohibited, at least not by the Torah; if it is not fit for a dog’s consumption, then even rabbinically there is no prohibition. And leaven is not fit for a dog’s consumption; it is something that ferments doughs, it is very sour. So the question is—meaning, you can’t derive leaven from leavened food, even though leaven is more severe, but precisely because of that it is not fit for eating, and therefore Beit Hillel say that you have no kal va-ḥomer, and therefore there is no distinction between the measures. That is the Talmud in tractate Beitzah. And I wondered there how Beit Shammai can make such a kal va-ḥomer—and Beit Hillel too, as I said, don’t really argue with it. After all, leaven really is unfit for eating. Why do I care that its leavening is stronger? What kind of thing is this? Why should it be enough to write leavened food and then we’ll derive leaven by a kal va-ḥomer? Leavened food is fit for eating and leaven is not fit. Even after the Torah wrote it, you still have to understand why. After all, it’s unfit for eating, so why in this case is something unfit for eating also prohibited? As an aside, I saw something strange some time ago. I was brought to court to be an expert witness in some matter—there was a class-action lawsuit there against a canning company that sold tomato paste with Passover certification from the rabbinate. And in the end, that rabbinate removed the certification two days before Passover because it was concerned there was some citric acid there. Citric acid has gluten in it—it doesn’t matter—there was something there that might be leaven; there is some dispute among the halakhic decisors. But they didn’t have time to notify the stores and the customers, and some people bought it and sued them in a class action. It’s totally absurd in various ways, but in any case they brought me as a witness in that matter. And in the course of that I saw the material the plaintiffs had brought. It’s a lot of money, so they made quite a production of it there. This lawsuit has been going on for about fifteen years already, from 2004.
[Speaker B] Now it still hasn’t ended—they’re only starting to reach a settlement. Yes, there’s going to be a settlement after
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the expiration date of this and that is long gone, and anyway…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So they brought there Rabbi Ben Zion Abba Shaul—that’s why I mentioned it—Rabbi Ben Zion Abba Shaul, who writes there that on Passover, regarding citric acid, Rabbi Ovadia and other halakhic decisors say that citric acid is not leaven because although true, it contains gluten, it goes through chemical processes that essentially turn it into something entirely unfit for eating, like dust. The fact that afterward they put it back into the tomato paste or into the product and people eat it—that does not reactivate it, and it is no longer relevant, because it already underwent a process that completely destroyed it; yes, a new substance has come here. So Rabbi Ben Zion Abba Shaul writes about this—he argued against Rabbi Ovadia, there really is correspondence on this issue—that on Passover even leaven is prohibited too. So you see that on Passover there isn’t this issue of something unfit for eating, and therefore he argues that citric acid is possibly leaven. But where did he get that from leaven? He says no—not leaven, barley. Barley with a bet. Leaven with an aleph. Strange things, because it is completely clear in all the halakhic decisors and in the Shulchan Arukh that on Passover something unfit for eating is also not prohibited, even regarding leaven. Something that is hardened leaven, all such things—something unfit for eating is not prohibited, that’s completely clear. Leaven is a good question, meaning the argument from leaven is a good argument, but I don’t think that—again, I didn’t see it inside, I only saw quotations they brought from him, and they were very strange things. In any case, though, the question of why leaven really is prohibited on Passover is a good question. And I wanted to argue that on Passover, basically, the reason we don’t eat leaven is not because leaven itself is something defective or problematic or disgusting, like pork, like milk and meat, or things of that kind, blood, but because our ancestors’ dough did not have time to rise. The Torah itself says, because our ancestors’ dough did not have time to rise. So what the Torah wants is that we remember the Exodus from Egypt, and we too should not eat leaven, just as our ancestors did not eat leaven. And therefore this is really a law about the person, not a law about the object. Leaven in and of itself is not problematic. I am supposed not to eat leaven just as our ancestors did not eat leaven when they left Egypt. That is basically part of the remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt—the prohibition of leavened food.
[Speaker B] That’s basically the claim I introduced a bit earlier. What? Yes. He commanded them already on the first of the month, after all.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Two weeks earlier the Holy One, blessed be He, said, “And thus
[Speaker B] you shall eat it: your loins girded and your shoes on your feet.” That?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Do you want to command that to the end? Yes. One can say maybe that’s according to Hasda or things like that, from Ritva, “because of this the Lord did for me when I went out of Egypt,” where he really claims that already on the first of the month we’re told what is going to happen, that we will leave in haste. And as for Pharaoh—you see, the haste didn’t really come from Pharaoh—but that’s the claim.
[Speaker C] What about “it shall not be seen” and “it shall not be found”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. What about it? Same thing. The claim is that just as our ancestors didn’t have it, we too aren’t supposed to have it. Not because of the disgusting nature of the thing, not because the thing is problematic and one should distance oneself from it, but simply because we are performing a simulation of the Exodus from Egypt. A person is obligated to present himself as if he left Egypt—not to see, but to present himself. So usually people bring that as part of the story of the Exodus, but I argue that the prohibitions of leaven are also part of that very idea. And then, if that really is so, then Beit Shammai’s kal va-ḥomer is obvious. If leavened food, whose leavening is lighter, is prohibited, then leaven, whose leavening is stronger, all the more so. What kind of kal va-ḥomer is this? It’s unfit for eating—it doesn’t matter. Because if the thing itself were an object-based prohibition, then you’d say that once it’s unfit for eating, that’s no longer it, it’s something else. But if you say… I eat, and what I eat is leaven. If so, then it’s prohibited. And since its leavening is stronger, that makes it even more prohibited than regular leavened food. And in other food prohibitions, when they are unfit for eating, then the forbidden object is simply no longer that object—it’s something else, it no longer falls under the category of food. But here this is not really a prohibition of eating at all.
[Speaker E] People say that on Passover, leaven that is
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] unfit for eating—yes, you still violate a prohibition with it. Exactly, exactly the point, that’s why. Because leaven unfit for eating, like all the other leaven prohibitions, is not leaven—just as pork unfit for eating is not pork. But with leaven—Maimonides, by the way, writes this in that same law at the beginning of the laws of leaven and matzah. Maimonides writes there, why is leaven called leaven? He says this as an aside, but it is clear that he means to explain this point: because it is made to ferment doughs with it. Meaning that leaven is the essence of leavening. When you put it into dough, it makes the dough rise. So you can’t say that leaven is not leaven. Now true, it is unfit for eating, but it is the father of all leavens, meaning it is the thing that creates other leavened things, so you can’t say it isn’t leaven. And then the claim is that this is why Beit Shammai’s kal va-ḥomer exists, and this is why Beit Hillel also accept it, and this is why leaven is prohibited. And the real point is that this is why Maimonides says that here Rabbi Abbahu’s rule does not apply—that everything prohibited in eating is also prohibited in benefit. Why? Because in Maimonides’ approach—and this is his beautiful point in his Commentary to the Mishnah in Keritot, or elsewhere—Maimonides writes there that when the Torah states Rabbi Abbahu’s rule, that something prohibited in eating is also prohibited in benefit, he says that when the Torah prohibits something in eating, from its point of view that is an example. Meaning, what it really meant to prohibit is benefit, only since the common kind of benefit, the classic example of benefit, is eating. So when the Torah says—like “if one man’s ox gores another man’s ox”—if my dog bites my fellow’s chicken, do I have to pay? Yes. Why? It says, “if one man’s ox gores another man’s ox,” because an ox is an example. What it means is: when your property damages someone else’s property, you have to pay. Maimonides says that a prohibition of eating is also only an example. What it really means is that you are forbidden to derive benefit from the thing. When they tell you “you may not derive benefit,” the idea is “don’t eat it,” because eating is the common example of benefit. And all this is with things that are object-based prohibitions. But with things where they tell me “don’t eat” as an action imposed on the person, then it’s obvious that here eating is not an example of benefit. Here, you are forbidden to eat. It’s not because you are forbidden to derive benefit and eating is only an example. Because just as our ancestors did not eat, so I too must refrain from the act of eating. This is an action-based prohibition, a prohibition on the person. And therefore half a measure also needs a special source, because in action-based prohibitions—this is already the Sefat Emet at the beginning of tractate Shabbat—there’s discussion of this issue regarding the poor person extending his hand there; in the prohibition of carrying there is lifting up and putting down. So the Sefat Emet there asks: why isn’t this prohibited by the law of half a measure when there is lifting up without putting down? So he says that in action-based prohibitions there is no law of half a measure. The law of half a measure was stated only in object-based prohibitions. And if leaven is not an object-based prohibition, then automatically you need a special source to prohibit half a measure. And there is a great deal of evidence for this. I think that in Maimonides it is very clear that this is correct, even though it sounds very innovative. I think that in Maimonides it is clearly correct. More than that, I showed—I wrote this once—and showed that you can see the same thing also in the sciatic nerve. In the sciatic nerve, for example, there is no prohibition of half a measure according to Maimonides. As for the question of the prohibition of benefit and of half a measure, that’s only the Pri Megadim. But that there is no prohibition of benefit—that Maimonides says, and that goes against the Talmud. In the Talmud in tractate Pesachim, in that same place where Rabbi Abbahu’s exposition appears, it also comes out that there should be a prohibition of benefit. And I think it is the same idea. The sciatic nerve, exactly like Passover—both are unique in that this is a historical prohibition. Meaning, the thing in itself is not loathsome; rather, you do it as a remembrance of something that once happened. The sciatic nerve is as a remembrance of our forefather Jacob, and leaven is as a remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. And in both of these prohibitions you really see the same pattern, and it seems on the face of it to go against the Talmud and against everything we know from ordinary food prohibitions. You’ve given this lecture already.
[Speaker C] Yes, yes,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] something like this—I spoke about it once; I’m just summarizing the point. The sciatic nerve—the sciatic nerve too, after all, is not fit for eating, yes? There’s no—like wood, yes, like
[Speaker E] wood, and yet it is prohibited.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why is it prohibited? Because the prohibition is in remembrance of what happened to our forefather Jacob. It’s not the problem of food prohibitions, where the prohibitions are object-based, where if the thing is unfit for eating then there is no prohibition. This is a prohibition on an action. Fine, that’s in general. And then the claim was that the prohibition of leaven is basically some sort of obligation on the person as part of the remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. What—today maybe because it’s something that will later be permitted?
[Speaker E] Why isn’t leaven called something that will later be permitted?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s a long question—why leaven isn’t called something that will later be permitted. According to most views it isn’t called something that will later be permitted. There is in Maimonides—
[Speaker E] Right, but if it’s not considered—if this is considered a personal prohibition, maybe that’s
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] the reason that, again, people say he can’t—eat it permissibly later. And that exists also in personal prohibitions. What difference does it make? Wait and eat it permissibly.
[Speaker E] But even according to the Ran?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] As for the Ran, that’s true, but with something that will later be permitted, in a case of doubt you can’t say the Ran’s point—only with nullification. The Ran says that it’s a matter of same kind with same kind, and therefore nullification doesn’t apply, but in a case of doubt what would the Ran say? In a case of doubt the Ran too would say like Rashi. So I think you can’t.
[Speaker D] If you say this is a historical prohibition, then you need to claim that the children of Israel didn’t have leaven in the house.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, they didn’t have it—where would they have gotten it from?
[Speaker D] Leaven is something you keep in the house. Leaven is something you keep in the house even apart from the development.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You mean not leavened food but leaven? The leaven—I don’t know, maybe, I have no idea. Fine, in any case, for our purposes, this is really the claim—that this is another aspect where we see that Passover has some special historical value, and it remains within the framework of the laws of eating leaven and “it shall not be seen” and “it shall not be found,” which also basically join that same obligation of remembering the Exodus from Egypt, or reliving it—yes, presenting or seeing oneself as if one had left Egypt. Today I want to explain a bit why. I want to explain this from another angle, a little different, and that angle is the second Passover and the Paschal offering in general. And I want to show there too some dimension of the reason for the matter. So this can connect to our discussion in this series on the reasons for the commandments, but of course I’m doing it in honor of Passover, so if you like I’ll fulfill my obligation from both sides. Fine. The starting point is that the Paschal offering—we know that in Jewish law there is a distinction between an individual offering and a communal offering. A communal offering comes from the Temple treasury; usually it has a fixed time—not all of them, but most of them—and an individual offering, each person brings from his own. The Paschal offering in this sense is somehow in the middle. Meaning, the Paschal offering of course does not come from the Temple treasury. Every person, or the registered group, brings an offering of their own; each one brings his own offering. But on the other hand it does have a fixed time. The Paschal offering is brought at a very specific time, unlike a sin offering, a guilt offering, a thanksgiving offering, and all the other individual offerings, which you bring when you need to or when you want to, but they do not have a fixed time. Passover has a fixed time. The Talmud already discusses the connection between a communal offering and fixed time, and an individual offering and no fixed time. And indeed we find both in the Talmud and in the medieval authorities (Rishonim) reference to the Paschal offering as a communal offering. You can see this in several places. The most prominent source is regarding whether impurity is permitted or overridden in the case of the community, where this is brought regarding the Paschal offering. Now, the Paschal offering is not really a communal offering on the face of it; it is an individual offering. Each person brings one. True, all the Jewish people are supposed to bring it, but each one separately. It is not a communal offering that is one offering brought by the whole public from the Temple treasury. That is the classic communal offering. And the Paschal offering is perceived—at least in several places you can see that it is perceived—as a communal offering. And the question is why. So here I’ll just note—I won’t go into details—that in the Talmud itself there are really two possible explanations of what is overridden by impurity: either because it is a communal offering or because it has a fixed time. The Talmud connects communal offering with an offering that has a fixed time. If you understand that only fixed time overrides impurity, then it is not difficult, because Passover has a fixed time even if it is an individual offering. But in several places you can see that this is also connected to its being a communal offering. I’ll perhaps bring one example where the Talmud says this almost explicitly, in Yoma 51: “Avhuna son of Rabbi Yehoshua said to Rava: and the tanna, why is it that the Paschal offering is called an individual offering and the festival offering is called a communal offering?” So he says, “If it is because it comes in a gathering, then the Paschal offering too comes in a gathering.” Meaning, the Paschal offering too is brought by the whole public together, like the offering—also the festival offering, like the Paschal offering, incidentally, each person brings one; it is not an offering that the public brings. Okay? So the festival offering and the Paschal offering are really very similar in that sense. And the Talmud says that the festival offering is called a communal offering while the Paschal offering is called an individual offering. So already in the festival offering you see that there is a concept of communal offering even when we are not talking about one offering coming from the Temple treasury—each person separately brings an offering, only all the Jewish people, each one of them, bring them together. So he says, if so, then the festival offering—such a thing is called a communal offering, we see that from the festival offering. So the Paschal offering too should be called a communal offering. Because the Paschal offering too comes in a gathering. Each one brings his own offering, but it comes together. The Talmud says: there is the second Passover, which does not come in a gathering. With Passover there is compensation—soon we’ll see, not compensation, but there is a second Passover, and the second Passover does not come in a gathering. And since it does not come in a gathering, it is not called a communal offering. But the first Passover in itself, the Talmud says, is a communal offering. We do not call it fully a communal offering because it has another aspect, the second Passover, which does not come in a gathering. Okay, so it is not entirely a communal offering, but from the side of the first Passover, just as you see with the festival offering itself, it is also called a communal offering. What do you see? That there is a second, additional concept of communal offering. A communal offering is not only an offering that comes from the Temple treasury as one offering brought by the entire public. A communal offering is also when each individual brings an offering, but all of them do it together at the same time.
[Speaker C] After all, there’s a significant difference between the two, right? I can only join one festival offering if they want.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] For Passover, no—you can’t fulfill it with one Passover offering.
[Speaker C] No, but they have to register before the slaughtering. There is a law of those registered for it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, that’s the law of those registered for it, but on the basic level, so what? They can also all do it with one Passover offering—explicitly in the Talmud, that all Israel can fulfill their obligation with one Passover offering. It’s just that there is a law of those registered for it. By the way, it isn’t clear whether registration is indispensable; there are disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) about this. What about an olive’s bulk? What?
[Speaker B] Each person needs an olive’s bulk.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So they ask there already: how can all Israel fulfill their obligation with one Passover offering if each person needs an olive’s bulk? But fine, the question is whether the eating is indispensable.
[Speaker C] People aren’t registered with a festival offering on the fourteenth, but they can also bring it on the intermediate days. Okay, so the time isn’t—but still,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But still within that time frame. So it isn’t fixed at the level of a particular day, but there is some set time, meaning. Okay, in any case, I just want to bring from the Talmud this principle that there is another kind of communal offering. There is a communal offering that comes from the Temple treasury contribution, one offering that the whole public brings together, and there is a communal offering where each individual brings an offering, but since everyone does it together, it comes in assembly, and that too is called a communal offering. What is the meaning of that? Why is Passover really called a communal offering? Seemingly it’s just a collection of individual offerings. So maybe I want to look at this from the angle of the Second Passover. In the portion of Beha’alotekha, the story of the Second Passover appears there. “Moses spoke to the children of Israel to perform the Passover. And they performed the Passover in the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month at twilight, in the wilderness of Sinai; according to all that the Lord commanded Moses, so the children of Israel did.” That’s “they performed the Passover.” “But there were men who were impure through contact with a human corpse, and they could not perform the Passover on that day.” There were people who were impure, and with Passover you can’t perform it in impurity. And they approached Moses—of course again, if the majority of Israel is impure, then it is done even in impurity; that is one of the implications of this being a communal offering, because impurity is permitted for the public, or overridden for the public. “And they approached Moses and Aaron on that day, and those men said to him: We are impure through a human corpse; why should we be diminished, so as not to bring the offering of the Lord in its appointed time among the children of Israel?” Right? We also want to. We missed the Passover offering; we also want to. “And Moses said to them: Stand, and I will hear what the Lord will command concerning you. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the children of Israel, saying: Any man who is impure through a corpse or on a distant journey, among you or throughout your generations”—also for future generations and not only in the wilderness of Sinai—“shall make a Passover to the Lord. In the second month, on the fourteenth day at twilight”—that is, the fourteenth of Iyar—“they shall perform it; with matzah and bitter herbs they shall eat it; they shall not leave any of it until morning, and not break any bone,” and so on. So the claim is that in fact the Holy One, blessed be He, gives them another option: do a Second Passover. The sages, by the way, derive from here that it’s not only someone who was impure or on a distant journey, but anyone. Anyone who missed the First Passover—not only that, even someone who missed the First Passover intentionally, really against the plain meaning of the verses—even someone who missed the First Passover intentionally can do the Second Passover. There are questions about karet, when he becomes liable to karet, and various things like that. But that’s what is written in this passage. This passage cries out for interpretation, because the complaint here is a strange complaint. I didn’t get around to saying Grace after Meals. Fine. Now I want to—I come to eat, seventy-two minutes have passed, I don’t know. I can’t say Grace after Meals anymore. Now I come to Moses our teacher and say, listen, I also deserve it—why should our portion be diminished? I also want to say Grace after Meals. What kind of claim is that? I don’t understand. Meaning, you missed the commandment, okay, next year. Why is the assumption of these people so simple? Also the tone of what they say sounds as though, “Why should our portion be diminished?”—as if this is some injustice. They’re not asking for a privilege; they’re saying, listen, give us an option too. “Why should our portion be diminished?”—as if, how can you do such a thing to us? What is there in Passover—what is there in Passover that these people… what? Yes, something connected to their rights, that’s exactly the point.
[Speaker C] Maybe they had some connection to the original offering, and they weren’t there. So maybe they had given money, let’s say.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, they didn’t give money.
[Speaker C] They didn’t give—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Money, because that’s exactly the point. The Passover offering, each person brings for himself. If you didn’t bring, you didn’t give money. Earlier—Second Passover wasn’t given, wasn’t stated specifically in terms of prior registration. So you’re saying that because we dealt here with Grace after Meals, if I had been a prayer leader and missed Grace after Meals, I too would come to Moses our teacher: wait, what’s not okay here? Why should I miss the commandment of Grace after Meals? In short, there’s something a bit strange here, some assumption saying that obviously there must be compensation here, meaning it can’t be that our portion should be diminished because we missed the Passover offering. Why? What is special about the Passover offering?
[Speaker B] Passover has karet, so that says there’s something qualitatively different.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, karet wouldn’t apply to them, obviously. If they were under compulsion, then karet wouldn’t apply to them. I assume that’s what you mean.
[Speaker B] No, but it shows there’s something—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s one of the two positive commandments that carry karet. Another aspect in which you see that the Passover offering really is a special offering, because usually karet applies to prohibitions, but here it applies to a positive commandment.
[Speaker B] Also, there’s Hezekiah’s Passover and Josiah’s Passover—you can ask why they made such a huge deal out of it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, ברור—obviously. Okay, what do you mean “obviously”? We need to understand why. Here too it’s obvious; the question is why. Anyway, it’s like I once explained regarding this historical issue, regarding why we do not derive punishments by logical inference, where the Avnei Nezer gives three reasons, and the Talmudic Encyclopedia copies this, three reasons why we do not derive punishments by logical inference. One reason is maybe there is a refutation of the a fortiori inference from which the prohibition is learned. So one reason is that maybe there is a refutation to the a fortiori inference. The second reason is maybe because for the more severe prohibition, the punishment given for the lighter prohibition is not sufficient. And the third reason is that it is learned from “the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother”—that this is an a fortiori inference from the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother, one who is both his father’s daughter and his mother’s daughter, so all the more so—so why was it written? To teach you that punishments are not derived by logical inference. And this always kills me, this whole thing. These aren’t three reasons; they’re two reasons and a source. Meaning, there are two reasons why this is done, and the third is a source, not a reason. Why do they call the third one a reason? Because the assumption is that when something is taught from a verse, apparently it has no explanation—what’s called a scriptural decree. But that’s simply not true. Clearly the source is the third item, and the reasons are one of the first two reasons. By the way, if the first two reasons didn’t exist, you wouldn’t learn this from the source either. Meaning, because the source says “the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother,” so you say, why write that, since you could have learned it by an a fortiori inference? I could have learned who knows what from that, because the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother is a more severe prohibition, like leaven, yes, I don’t know—I could have drawn a hundred thousand conclusions. Why do I draw specifically this conclusion, that punishments are not derived by logical inference? Because there is a rationale not to punish by logical inference, and that is one of the first two rationales. So by the same token, the fact that this fits in various places is true, but that still doesn’t mean it needs no explanation. Meaning, it has a source, but the question is what the explanation is. I’m not asking for the source; I’m asking for the explanation. There’s a source here too. So that is really the fundamental question. But beyond that, in Sefer HaChinukh, commandment 57, he says as follows: that one should perform the Second Passover on the fourteenth of Iyar, anyone who could not perform the first Passover on the fourteenth of Nisan, for example because of impurity or because he was on a distant journey, as it says—and he brings the verses—and our sages, of blessed memory, further taught that it is not specifically impurity and distance of journey alone, but anyone who erred, or was under compulsion, or even acted intentionally and did not bring the first, brings the second. Fine. Here he says this is in fact compensation; he includes both intentional and unintentional cases, and not only someone who was impure or on a distant journey. Maimonides, for some reason—this is also positive commandment 57—says that we were commanded to slaughter the Second Passover when the First Passover was prevented from us, and that is His statement, may He be exalted: “In the second month, on the fourteenth day at twilight, they shall perform it.” And here the questioner has room to challenge me and say to me: why do you count the Second Passover, when this contradicts what you said earlier in the seventh principle, where you said that the law of a commandment should not be counted as an independent commandment. Maimonides in the seventh principle says that if, for example, there is a prohibition concerning a married woman who committed adultery, or a daughter of a priest—one is by burning, one by stoning, one by strangulation, there are all kinds of punishments—he says these are different details within one commandment. There can be one commandment that is broken down into several details. Or levirate marriage and halitzah, for example—so for Maimonides these are not two commandments but one. Because a woman who remains bound in levirate obligation either undergoes levirate marriage or halitzah. Or the variable offering—in the variable offering there are three options, but they are all basically the same thing, just three ways to fulfill the commandment according to one’s means. So you don’t count that as two commandments. So Maimonides says: if that is so, then the Second Passover really should not have been counted as an independent commandment. The First Passover and the Second Passover are just two ways of doing the commandment. Therefore they should not have been two separate commandments. So on that Maimonides says: let the one who asks this difficulty know that the sages already disputed concerning the Second Passover, whether its law is like that of the First Passover, or whether it is an independently stated command. And the Jewish law was decided that it is an independently stated command, and therefore it is fitting to count it independently. So he is hinting at the dispute in tractate Pesachim 93—95, sorry—the dispute between Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi and Rabbi Natan on the question: what is the Second Passover relative to the First Passover? Is the Second Passover compensation for the first, or is the Second Passover a festival in its own right, a commandment in its own right? And the Jewish law was ruled like Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, that it is a commandment in its own right, and therefore, says Maimonides, I count it as a separate commandment, because it is not a detail within the commandment of Passover; it is a commandment in itself. And the question that arises here is of course: how can that be? The verses explicitly do not say that. We did not perform the First Passover—why should our portion be diminished? These people come wanting this compensation, and then the Holy One, blessed be He—Moses our teacher said to them, okay, I’ll ask the Holy One, blessed be He, and He says yes, whoever did not do the First Passover should do the Second Passover. It is impossible to say more explicitly in the verse that this is compensation. And the sages rule that it is not. And so the implication, for example—what is so beloved in the yeshivot—the Minchat Chinukh and all the “Rabbi Chaim” discussions on a minor who came of age between the two Passovers: is he obligated to bring the Second Passover? This is really the practical implication that the Talmud itself brings. Or a convert who converted between the two Passovers. If the Second Passover is compensation for the first, then a convert who converted between the two Passovers, or a minor who came of age between the two Passovers, is exempt from it. Why? Because he was not obligated in the first one, so since he didn’t miss it, he doesn’t need to bring the second one. But if it is a festival in its own right, then even a minor who came of age between the two Passovers, or a convert who converted between the two Passovers, is obligated in the Second Passover, because by then he is already obligated. So he is obligated; it doesn’t matter that he was exempt in the first one, because it is not compensation for the first. Rabbi Chaim basically talks about this. He discusses a Maimonides there. Maimonides writes there that if the minor brought the First Passover, then he is exempt from the Second Passover. And Rabbi Chaim asks about that—everyone asks there why. After all, the minor who brought the First Passover still brought it as someone who was not yet obligated. So if you claim that he is obligated in the Second Passover, then what difference does it make that he brought the First Passover? And on this there is the famous Rabbi Chaim who says that there can be fulfillment of a commandment even if you are not obligated. There are situations in which you fulfill the commandment even though no obligation rests upon you. You can’t say that you discharged an obligation in the sense that no obligation rested upon you, but there is fulfillment of a commandment even in the case of a minor. And that is Maimonides’ reasoning. What? Counting the Omer? Yes, a minor who came of age during the counting of the Omer—yes, not in the Talmud, but later authorities discuss this, a minor who came of age. In any case, there it’s a question of completeness, but in any case, so the Talmud in the end, or the later authorities in the end, rule like Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi that the Second Passover is a festival in its own right, and therefore a minor who came of age or a convert who converted—a minor who came of age and a convert who converted between the two Passovers—are obligated in the Second Passover. And that is a very unequivocal statement that this is not compensation for the first, which goes against the verses. In the verses it really looks like compensation.
[Speaker G] Why, according to that, is it not mentioned in the Torah? What? If it’s really a minor who came of age, then the Torah—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Should have written, a minor who came of age between the two Passovers. Do you know how many laws don’t appear in the Torah?
[Speaker G] What I’m saying is, when the impure people came, together with them there should also have come—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe they came, maybe they didn’t exist there—I don’t know. Maybe there wasn’t a minor who came of age there between the two Passovers, or they didn’t come with them, or they didn’t think of it. But practically, in the end, that is what was ruled in Jewish law.
[Speaker G] Also, if the impure people hadn’t come, then would the minor have had a Second Passover?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s a question. If the impure people hadn’t come, would the impure have had a Second Passover? Certainly not. Who says? I don’t know. And it was introduced in this way. If not, maybe it would have been introduced in some other way. It’s a question of how you relate to these events. Also the daughters of Tzelophehad—if they hadn’t come, then daughters wouldn’t inherit? I don’t know. It may be that this is the way it unfolded, but it could also have unfolded in another way. If this is the Jewish law, this is the Jewish law. Okay, that’s a different discussion. In any case, first of all regarding the question, this is just an important methodological lesson: usually when we read these verses we understand that the Second Passover is compensation for the First Passover, but that is not what the verses say. In the verses only a correlation is written: whoever brought the First Passover is exempt from the Second Passover, and whoever did not bring the First Passover is obligated in the Second Passover. The causal relationship between not bringing the First Passover and the obligation in the Second Passover is our own private responsibility; it is not written in the Torah. Meaning, I’m hinting here at a philosophical and statistical problem of confusing correlation with causation. When there is correlation between two things, we tend to think there is a causal relationship between them. But that’s not true. Very often there is correlation from other mechanisms. Leibniz writes, as an example of the relation between body and soul, his parable of the clocks. He says: look at two clocks moving at exactly the same rate. Every time this one shows a certain hour, the other shows exactly the same hour. So what does that mean? That one clock is the cause of the other? After all, there is a very clear correlation in what they do. The answer is no. There is some third mechanism responsible for each one separately, synchronizing them separately. And it could also be chance perhaps, but beyond that, even if not, it doesn’t have to be that there is a causal relationship between the two things. Sometimes correlation is created for side reasons, not because there is a causal connection between the two things.
[Speaker C] By the way, mathematically, even if the link is hidden, it’s still a function.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s obvious. Mathematically, even without causality, there is correlation. And that’s the claim. Yes, you know, that’s what they always say—that it’s not worth dieting, because everyone who diets is fat. Right?
[Speaker C] It’s a well-known thing.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, what does that say? It basically says there is a correlation here between dieting and being fat, but the causal conclusion is wrong. The causality works in the opposite direction here. And by the way, that often happens. You find that people who smoke get cancer. That still doesn’t mean smoking causes cancer. It could very well be that people who have cancer tend to smoke. One of the implications—one of the implications of that, for example, is that if you smoke and are afraid of getting cancer, there is no reason to stop. I mean, not that I’m really saying that, but that would be the conclusion—that would be the implication if that side were correct. Because if it isn’t smoking that causes cancer, but cancer that causes smoking, then what good would it do me to stop smoking? Meaning, whether I have cancer doesn’t depend on whether I smoke. That’s beating the stick—the dog that attacks the stick and not the one holding it. Yes, it’s exactly the same thing. Very often—and this is a very common mistake, by the way, in all sorts of medical studies and things like that—you have to be very careful. I think lately people are a bit more aware of this, but there are all kinds of things that make your hair stand on end when you see the nonsense they do there. Meaning, they draw causal conclusions in all kinds of places where at most you can show correlation. You cannot show causation. You can reach a causal conclusion only in a place where you discover the mechanism. So once you discover the mechanism—how smoking causes cancer or something like that—that will be an indication that indeed the causal direction goes from smoking to cancer and not from cancer to smoking, or not from some third thing causing both. Meaning, yes, maybe someone who goes—I don’t know—lives in some place, and that causes both a desire to smoke and cancer. Some third thing causes both. There can be many explanations. Okay, so for our purposes here too, the fact that the Torah links, or creates a correlation between, the First Passover and the Second Passover still doesn’t mean there is a causal relationship between them. And indeed Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi says—and so the Jewish law was ruled—that no. It is not that whoever did not bring the First Passover is obligated in the Second Passover. It works the other way around. Whoever brought the First Passover is exempt from the Second Passover. That is not the same thing. You are obligated in the Second Passover because you are obligated, period. Not because you didn’t bring the First Passover. True, if you brought the First Passover that exempts you; it’s not that not bringing it obligated you to do the Second Passover. Rather, you are obligated in the Second Passover because it is a festival in its own right. If you brought the First Passover, that exempted you.
[Speaker C] And that’s against the Torah? What? If you bring the second, have you done the first? You do the second, fulfill a commandment—is that “do not add”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In general? I didn’t understand the question. Yes, simply, if you are exempt from something and do it, first of all you are called a fool. If you also do it as a commandment, then maybe there is also a problem of “do not add,” yes.
[Speaker C] But doesn’t that go against the wording of the Torah in the word “diminished”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean? Ah, I’m saying the intonation does indeed show that this is some kind of completion—in that I agree, that’s what I said before. But the connection itself, the correlation itself, doesn’t mean there is a relation of compensation here, and indeed Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi says there isn’t. And how does he explain the “why should our portion be diminished”? Fine, in a minute I’ll give an explanation.
[Speaker C] By the way, Natan said that we want to do Passover on the fourteenth of Iyar, and he says to them no, you’re not in the category—meaning the opposite of what you’re saying.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but that’s not what happened there. The discussion took place between Nisan and Iyar. Okay, in any case, the question is what really stands behind this matter. Is there a connection between the First Passover and the Second Passover, even if it isn’t compensation? What is the point here? It seems to me, as we saw earlier in the Talmud in Yoma, that the First Passover is basically a communal offering, and the Second Passover is an offering because it comes in assembly—it is not Passover, it’s not a regular communal offering. And the Second Passover is an individual offering. What is the idea behind that? Here I want to explain a bit the meaning—the meaning of Passover as a communal offering, and then we’ll come back to these matters.
[Speaker B] Since everyone, and essentially all of them, like Rabbi, are obligated, so it is a communal offering, but the public obligation splits into the individual.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Since it does not come in assembly, and it is not a communal offering—I’ll explain in a moment. I want to present the following claim. Now I’m taking a philosophical timeout. Okay? I think we once talked about Kant’s categorical imperative, and I want to introduce it in order to explain the issue. Speaking of the elections that just ended, the eternal argument: why go vote at all? One vote changes nothing, so why waste our time voting? Apparently even a hundred thousand votes change nothing, because it makes no difference who will be there. But even if, let’s say, there is a difference depending on who will be there, still one vote changes nothing. When can one vote influence? When the party I basically want gets a round number of seats minus one. Right? Then if I went to vote, I added one more vote, and then I added a seat for them. But in all other situations that doesn’t happen. Now such a thing has almost no chance of happening; the chance is absolutely negligible. Roughly speaking—I only saw some article yesterday by someone who did the calculation a bit more carefully, but I don’t think he did it correctly—roughly speaking it’s one divided by the number of votes needed for a seat, that’s the chance. Let’s say a seat is worth thirty thousand votes, so the chance that your vote will matter is one in thirty thousand. A one-in-thirty-thousand chance—we take such risks with our lives on the road. Meaning, you don’t get excited about a one-in-thirty-thousand chance. Okay? So why invest that half hour and go vote? So yes, my son always raises this claim, and then everyone argues with him and says, fine, but what happens if everyone does like you? Each one is a small contribution, but together we are a mighty light, as they say—each one is a small light and together we are a mighty light. So the claim is that everyone will do like you, and therefore in the end it does have an effect. Each one gives his input.
[Speaker F] That’s also not true. Vaccinations are the same thing too. What?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Also vaccinations, in many places, tax evasion—you can apply this to many contexts. Going into a shelter when there’s a siren—in many contexts you can show this, although there are some differences between the cases, but—
[Speaker F] Don’t endanger yourself.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but it’s a very tiny chance, an infinitesimal chance. It really doesn’t make sense to go into a shelter if you do the personal calculation. I’ll tell anyone who asks me, I’ll tell him that. But there is no point in going into a shelter from the private calculation. But obviously if all of us don’t go into shelters, then there is a reasonable chance that someone will be hurt. But when I make my personal calculation, there is no reason to go into a shelter. By the way, I also didn’t do that during the first Scud, when everyone there had masks and all that—I—
[Speaker C] Me too. I called my wife, I called my wife and told her, you don’t need to go in.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, well, in any case, after I saw that there was no chemical element, because chemical is a macroscopic risk. You know, if it’s a chemical missile then that’s a macroscopic risk. I’m talking about a ballistic missile. A ballistic missile—there’s simply no…
[Speaker C] By the way, there’s a consumer example אצלנו of this, one hundred times canceled in sixty, a drop of milk in meat, yes, okay, similar, the same thing.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In any case, the claim—why go vote? People say to my son—yes, these are eternal arguments in our house—they tell him, okay, what happens if everyone does like you? He says fine, but not everyone will do like me. Meaning, the fact that I do something doesn’t cause others to change their decisions. It could be that they also won’t go vote, but even then it won’t be because of me. Everyone makes his own calculation. So if I make the calculation now—if I went to vote, what is the result; if I didn’t go to vote, what is the result—there is no difference at all. Right? There is no correlation between what I do and what the public does.
[Speaker F] Maybe there are influences, there are influences of those who didn’t vote who probably did. Of individuals, a hundred and thirty thousand who didn’t vote—probably there is an influence.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here, all together. But when each one separately made his own calculation, that has no significance. Because if I had gone to vote, then there would have been a hundred and thirty thousand minus one who didn’t go. So what difference did that make? I personally influence nothing. It doesn’t matter what others do.
[Speaker B] Shavit ben, Shavit ben.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that drags others to do it.
[Speaker B] Again—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not revealing anything to anyone. I sit at home and tell no one what I did today.
[Speaker B] How do things turn from private into public?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What difference does it make?
[Speaker B] What difference does it make if I do something? What difference does it make?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t tell anyone that I went to vote. I lock myself in the bathroom and tell no one that I didn’t go to vote. The question is: what does it do? It has no impact at all. So why invest time in it? In short, eternal arguments. Clearly he is right, and your vote does not influence anything in any way. But I think what people really mean when they argue with him—if they don’t know how to phrase it properly—their intuition is really based on something else, and that is Kant’s categorical imperative. Kant basically says that you should test whether your act is moral or not by the following criterion: would you want it to become a general law? Meaning, would you want the entire public to behave this way? Let’s say you want to evade income tax, okay? So you evade one thousand shekels. You evade one thousand shekels. Now evading one thousand shekels is nonsense. Meaning, it has no impact on anything except maybe some digit a hundred places after the decimal point in the Treasury’s computers. No one will ever feel it anywhere; meaning, no one will be harmed by it. So why shouldn’t I evade one thousand shekels? So Kant says: because if everyone evades his one thousand shekels, then in the end nothing will remain in the state treasury. So he says, fine, if everyone—you’re right—but I’ll evade, and of course I won’t tell anyone, because am I crazy? They’ll put me in jail. I won’t tell anyone, and therefore the fact that I evade one thousand shekels really affects nothing. So why shouldn’t I evade? So Kant says this is not a consequentialist question. People get confused about Kant’s interpretation too. Kant is not talking about consequentialist, teleological morality—morality according to the result or purpose. He doesn’t say that if you do this, then the Treasury will be emptied. What he says is that doing this is immoral because if everyone did this, then the Treasury would be empty. Meaning, this is not a factual claim that if you do it then everyone will do it, because that’s not true. Rather, it is a hypothetical claim. When you want to test whether your act is moral or not, how do you do it? You conduct a thought experiment. Let us assume everyone did it. It won’t happen, but let us assume everyone did it. If the state of the world would be bad, that means such an action is not moral. Okay? That is basically Kant’s claim. Now you can argue whether you have that intuition or not. I do, for example. I think this is a good criterion for moral action—maybe not exclusive, but a very good criterion—and that it fits very well the intuitions we have in many contexts. But in the end, it seems to me this is the only explanation you can give a person for why to go vote. Not because of the practical result, not because if you don’t go vote then everyone won’t go vote, because that’s not true; but because of the thought experiment that if no one went to vote, then you too agree there would be a problem here, there would be anarchy. And therefore it is an immoral act not to go vote—unless what obligates you… I’m talking now about someone who doesn’t go vote on principle because he doesn’t make a difference. If you don’t go vote because you have no one to vote for, that’s a different discussion; that can be discussed separately. In any case, the claim is that the categorical imperative as we understand it this way is basically not consequentialist. It is not based on the question of what will actually happen if you do something, but on a thought experiment. Meaning, if everyone did as you do—and it won’t happen—but theoretically, if everyone did as you do, what would the world look like? That is the criterion. Now the fascinating thing is that this… Okay, now he asks me: fine, after the Kantian discussion, still—do you agree that if I do this, it will have no impact if I don’t go vote? So all the other fools will make Kant’s argument and will go vote, because he managed to fool them. But as for me, I won’t go vote, because in any case it changes nothing. That’s my son—my son’s argument. So all these idiots, including myself, Kant managed to feed them this line, but in the end I influence nothing. And then the claim was—and now I say to him—yes, but what happens if everyone says like you? In Kant this already has a different meaning—not in the sense that if you do it then everyone will do it. No, it’s not a causal relation; it’s correlation. It’s not causation. The meaning is: if this argument is really a valid argument, then I would expect everyone to do it on his own. Not because you do it. Society is built on there being some gentleman’s agreement among us that none of us makes the purely self-interested calculation of the individual, even though it is a correct calculation. You will not harm anyone in any way. You will not harm anyone in any way from the standpoint of your personal step, but there is some agreement among us that all of us do not make this calculation, even though for each one individually it is a correct calculation, because otherwise the whole thing wouldn’t work. It’s like the prisoner’s dilemma. You know the prisoner’s dilemma in game theory? By the way, yes—there is a British TV program, Golden Balls. Did anyone happen to see it? I highly recommend it; it is simply fascinating. It’s a collection of BBC clips, each time two people play this kind of prisoner’s-dilemma game. Amazing. There isn’t one clip that resembles another; it’s just fascinating. I really recommend watching it online. You can search for Golden Balls. Golden Balls. Balls. A golden ball, a golden ball. Not feeding. The prisoner’s dilemma basically works like this. There are two prisoners caught in some shared crime. He wants to finish. Two prisoners were caught for a joint crime, and the police or investigators offer them a deal. If you inform on the other guy, you go free and he gets fifteen years in prison. And of course the same to the other one—if you inform on the first, you go free and he gets fifteen years. Now if both of you inform, if both of you inform, then you each get, say, I don’t know, five years. Right? But if neither of you informs, if neither of you informs, then you each get two years. Okay? That’s the deal. So what happens in such a case? Now if you make the game theory table, the strategy matrix, you’ll see that it pays each one to inform. Why? Suppose the other one didn’t inform on me. Then if I inform on him, I go free and he gets shoved into fifteen years, right? If he did inform on me, and I also inform on him—five years—because if I don’t inform on him and he informs on me, I go for fifteen. So whatever he does, it pays me to inform on him. Okay? And therefore every person who makes his own maximizing calculation will end up with both of them informing, and then they both go in for five years. But if neither of them informed, then they each go in for two years. There’s something irrational here: each person makes the optimal strategy for himself, and together they reach a non-optimal result. And why is that? Because the optimal strategy here is a coalition strategy, not the strategy of an isolated individual. Meaning, the coalition together needs to decide: we do not inform on one another. But that is very dangerous, because if you decide with him not to inform on him, and he won’t inform on you—but in the end he tricks you—meaning, you won’t inform on him, he’ll inform on you, you’ll go in for fifteen years and he’ll go free. So you need to trust him. Now why would you trust him, when from his own individual-strategy standpoint, his best move is to inform? Only because he can make the very same calculation about you: wait, he too really ought not to inform, but then he’ll fear that you will inform on him, and make his own personal calculation, and conclude that he should inform. The only way to arrive—it’s really parallel to the categorical imperative, and people have already written on this, I saw some link; they didn’t do it accurately in my view, but I saw an article about it. In the end, the individual strategy leads to a less-than-best result. That is what the prisoner’s dilemma shows. You reach the best result when there is a collective strategy. But what does “collective” mean? Collective means that each one separately makes the decision. If we appoint a representative to act on behalf of all of us, that’s no big deal. I’m talking about an agreement among us, and afterward each one makes his own decisions—he can violate the agreement and he can obey it. Collective, which depends on trust. Exactly. Meaning, there is in fact coordination here among the individuals that each one makes the calculation of the collective interest and not the private one. And everyone must act in coordination, because otherwise the whole thing collapses. Even though each one individually, when making his own calculation—I want to finish—each one individually who makes his own calculation, on the rational level altogether he really ought to inform, or evade income tax, or not go vote. And therefore my claim is that the categorical imperative, in the end, ironically, tells us not to make the consequentialist calculation, right? Not to make the calculation that really there are no consequences, so what difference does it make? Ignore the consequentialist calculation, and that is how it brings about the result. In the end, the fact that a person ignores the consequentialist calculation is what produces the result in the end. Meaning, in the end, conducting yourself according to the categorical imperative is also the best consequentialist path. This overlap is amazing. When you define deontological morality, not teleological—not through results but through human actions and orientations—but in the end, that path is the one that achieves the best results. And one who acts in a consequentialist way will reach worse results, exactly like in the prisoner’s dilemma. What does this actually mean? I want to finish. What does this actually mean? It means that when a society wants to function, the first stage—after there is already a society—then there are public representatives and collective actions are done and everything is fine. You don’t need coordination between the people. There is one person who compels everyone: we perform the action on behalf of all of us. When a state builds something or decides to enter some project on behalf of all of us, no trust is needed between anyone and anyone; everyone does the work. That is a communal offering. A communal offering: you take an animal from the Temple treasury contribution and bring it for the whole public, so you don’t need coordination among the individuals here. Okay? The question is: how is a public created? How is this public created? How does a collection of individuals become this kind of collective that functions in a way that can bring a communal offering? That functions in such a way—the way this happens requires the first stage, the stage of the categorical imperative, which says that each person acts personally for the sake of the public interest. Not from his own consequentialist calculation. But here we are dealing with an individual action. Meaning, creating a collective consciousness is the condition for there being a collective here that can act. How do you create the collective consciousness? You make this gentleman’s agreement of the categorical imperative, or the prisoner’s dilemma, or whatever you want to call it, and you stand by it. Meaning, every person—even though in the end, in his personal calculation, he could gain by not doing what he agreed to—in the end, because he knows that all of us will do the same if it’s rational and there is a gentleman’s agreement not to do it, and it is built on all of us keeping it, because otherwise all of us fall, all of us fall—so he acts personally against his own self-interest. Rather, because he sees the collective interest. This is the Passover offering. The Passover offering is a communal offering because it comes in assembly. What does it mean that it comes in assembly? Each person separately brings his own personal offering. Why? So why is it a communal offering? Because this is the way in which we fuse—yes, with a tav and a kaf—we fuse the collection of individuals and turn them into a public. Once the public acts in coordination, each person separately brings the communal offering by his own considerations, from his own money, not from the Temple treasury contribution. But he brings it at the same time as a communal offering, and if the majority of Israel didn’t bring it then it was not fulfilled in effect, and therefore in the end the Passover offering is a different kind of communal offering. Why? Because it is the offering that creates the public. A regular communal offering is a communal offering when the public already exists: you take from the Temple treasury contribution, you bring an offering. Fine, like a governmental action, what I mentioned earlier. But how is the public created? When they left Egypt, the public was created. The Passover offering basically tells us: this is how a public is created. Each person should bring his own offering, because you are still individuals, but you should do it in a coordinated way, like with the categorical imperative, the parable of the categorical imperative, and out of an awareness that you are acting within the framework of the collective. Meaning that all together, each one brings an offering; this is called a communal offering. It is called a communal offering because this is how the public is created, as distinct from regular communal offerings that come from the Temple treasury contribution, which is already after the public exists. Now if so, that is why it is called a communal offering, and it is different from an individual offering where you bring an offering based on your own calculations or don’t bring one, but that is only between you and yourself. Why did they come to Moses and say, “Why should we be diminished?” About Passover—why not about Grace after Meals? Obviously. Meaning, after all, they too need to be—if the Passover offering creates the public, what does that mean? Do you want to say that because we were impure or on a distant journey we are no longer part of the people of Israel? That’s unreasonable. Meaning, we are not talking about the loss of Grace after Meals. We are talking about whether I become part of the public or not. So he says fine, true, no problem, you will join—so they do the Second Passover. What, the Second Passover is not compensation for the first? Because in the first one the public was created. In the second one, the public already exists and you want to join it. Fine, that is something else. It is an individual offering. You can join a public that already exists. It is an individual offering. Therefore, whoever brought the First Passover is exempt from the Second Passover, but not bringing the first is not the cause of the second. If you had not brought the First Passover and there were no public, there would be no point in bringing the Second Passover. Therefore there is also no situation in which all Israel brings the Second Passover. Why is there no such situation? Because what would that mean? If all Israel brings the Second Passover, all Israel was impure, so there is no public. This is an offering that creates the public, so it has to be in the First Passover. Therefore if the majority of Israel is impure, it overrides impurity, even though it is not a communal offering in the regular sense. Since you have to produce the public so that there will be something to join in the Second Passover. Otherwise it doesn’t—therefore the Second Passover is not compensation for the first.
[Speaker B] Every year, it’s like a remembrance
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] to the Exodus from Egypt, every year we recreate the community. To see himself as though—this is the importance of Passover. Therefore, by the way, the prohibition of owning visible leaven that I started with, the prohibition of eating leavened food and all that, is a remembrance of what happened then. Why? Because every year we are really supposed to go through what happened then, to recreate the community anew; that is the importance of Passover. So I say that we constantly have to repeat this thing. That is the meaning of the matter. Because all in all, every year you recreate the community anew. That is the importance of Passover. Yes, therefore on Passover there was conversion. Why is any uncircumcised person not allowed to eat of it? Of the Passover offering? Because someone who has not undergone circumcision is not a Jew; he cannot create the Jewish community. By the way, that is why circumcision and Passover are both punishable by karet, as was noted here earlier. These are positive commandments for which one is liable to karet, which makes them special. Why? Because these are the two commandments that make us Jews; this is the foundation of everything. Without that, there are no prohibitions either. So obviously this is the most basic thing. Therefore it is precisely for this that there is karet. Just one last remark: think, for example—the Sefer HaChinukh writes, regarding the commandment of pilgrimage to the Temple, two minutes—regarding the commandment of pilgrimage to the Temple. The Sefer HaChinukh writes that if most of the Jewish people went up, or regarding Hakhel, sorry, if most of the Jewish people came to Hakhel, then they fulfilled the commandment. But whoever did not come neglected that commandment. And that is a strange question—a strange statement—because where have we ever found such a thing, a commandment that was both fulfilled and neglected at the same time? If the commandment is imposed on the community and not on individuals, then the community fulfilled it. How can an individual be said to have neglected it if it is imposed on the community? The community fulfilled it. And if it is imposed on individuals, then each individual has to be judged as to whether he fulfilled or neglected it. But what does it mean that the commandment was fulfilled if most of the Jewish people were there? With Hakhel, by the way, this also has implications showing that it is communal; therefore women and children and everyone have to come there, even though it is a positive commandment bound by time, and the Talmud says that women are also obligated, and this is learned from the inclusiveness even in a place where an exception is stated, even though it is a positive commandment bound by time. And why? Because a commandment imposed on the community really has two aspects. It is fulfilled by the community; if the community did it, then the commandment was fulfilled. But obviously, “a pot belonging to partners is neither hot nor cold.” Meaning, if we exempt the individual from responsibility and say, okay, the community will do it, I’ll stay home—that is exactly the command of the categorical imperative—then I won’t come, and the community won’t do it, right? So what do we say? We say like this: essentially, the commandment is imposed on the community, and if the community did it, the commandment was fulfilled; and if the community did not do it, the commandment was not fulfilled. In addition to that, every individual who did not participate in fulfilling that commandment neglected a positive commandment. Why? Because the community cannot fulfill a commandment if each individual says, okay, the community will fulfill it, what does that have to do with me, I’ll stay home. There is no such thing. When the Torah imposes a communal obligation, it imposes responsibility on the individual to make sure that the community fulfills it. He is obligated. Now if you do not tell him that he is neglecting a positive commandment if he does not come, then no one will come. So automatically the community will not fulfill it either. So the Torah says, okay, it is this kind of strange arrangement. It can be fulfilled because it is imposed on the community and the community fulfilled it, but the individual who did not contribute his part and endangered the very fulfillment of that commandment neglected a positive commandment, together with the fact that this positive commandment was in fact fulfilled.
[Speaker C] And what about the second Hakhel?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? And regarding the second Hakhel—yes, there it is a commandment for the community; it is not the creation of the community, it is something else. But let’s take, for example, Torah reading—there are contradictions in the Mishnah Berurah and in various places: is it an obligation on the community or an obligation on individuals? So they ask about the Mishnah Berurah: on one side he writes that it is an obligation on individuals, and on the other hand he says that a person who wants to leave should not leave, meaning he should stay in the synagogue. So they ask why. If it is an obligation on individuals, let him leave, and the individuals who remain there, who are there, will fulfill it. So the claim, I think, is that this question rests on a mistaken conception, and this is exactly the point: it is an obligation on the community, but obviously the individual has responsibility. The individual cannot go and say, okay, the community will fulfill it, I’m going home, because then everyone will say that—exactly like the command of the categorical imperative. And therefore it is true that it is an obligation on the community, but like every communal obligation, like Hakhel, the individuals have a responsibility to contribute their part to making sure that the community carries out what it is obligated to do. Because if you exempt the individual from responsibility and say the community will do it, then there will be no community and no one will do it. Happy holiday.