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

Reasons and Rationales for the Commandments, Lesson 6

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

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

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • Scriptural decree and reasons
  • Meiri on the wayward and rebellious son: a son and not a daughter
  • Why the verse is still needed even when there is a logical reason
  • The distinction within the law of the wayward and rebellious son
  • The reason of the verse: halakhic use versus interpretation of the Torah
  • Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral: Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda
  • Critique of the “fear of error” as a reason not to derive law from the verse’s reason
  • Prosbul, enactments for the benefit of the poor, and “so that the door not be locked”
  • A king shall not accumulate many wives: reversal of the positions when the reason is written explicitly
  • Maimonides’ ruling like the first anonymous view and Nachmanides’ critique
  • An alternative explanation: the problem is in applying the reason, not in the reason itself
  • Harmony between linguistic interpretation and purposive interpretation
  • Pardes, revealed and hidden, and scriptural decree as a breakdown of harmony
  • Philosophical and technical examples of separating linguistic manipulation from meaning
  • Beyond the exceptions: Rif and Rosh on tooth and foot damage in the public domain
  • The Talmud in Bava Kamma: primary categories of damages as conceptual definitions

Summary

General Overview

The text argues that even when a law is defined as a scriptural decree, that does not mean it has no reason; at most, it means the reason is difficult to reach or to apply correctly. It cites Meiri on the wayward and rebellious son to show that the Sages and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) offer reasons even for such laws and treat those reasons as meaningful explanations. It then sharpens the point by saying that the verse is still needed in order to confirm, reveal, or remove a halakhic obstacle to applying a logical argument. It goes on to explain the dispute over whether one derives law from the reason of a verse through the example of “do not take a widow’s garment as collateral,” and argues that the standard explanation—“fear of error”—is problematic, because not deriving law from the reason can also lead to error and damage. After that, it turns to the issue of a king not multiplying wives, presents Maimonides’ view that the Jewish law ruling follows the first anonymous view, which does not derive law from the reason of the verse even when the reason is written explicitly, and suggests that the problem is not the reason itself but its application when it clashes with the precise wording of the verse. In the end, it opens the door to the next chapter by using examples from Bava Kamma that show that in practice, purposive explanations and conceptual definitions are used and do have halakhic consequences.

Scriptural decree and reasons

The text argues that a scriptural decree does not deny the existence of a reason; at most, it raises the question of how accessible that reason is to human beings. It notes that sources in the Sages and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) offer reasons even for laws defined as scriptural decrees, and they take those reasons seriously.

Meiri on the wayward and rebellious son: a son and not a daughter

The text cites Meiri, who explains the exposition “a son and not a daughter” by saying that it is not the way of a daughter to rob people, unlike the future concern because of which the wayward and rebellious son is judged “for what he will ultimately become.” It emphasizes that Meiri himself asks how one can offer a reason where we do not derive law from the reason of the verse, and from this it emerges that even such reasons can be stated and understood.

Why the verse is still needed even when there is a logical reason

The text suggests that the verse adds something even when the logic is understandable, because without a verse the reason might not have been strong enough to determine the Jewish law ruling in practice, or we might never have arrived at that reason without the verse. It adds a third possibility: sometimes the rules of Jewish law prevent the use of a logical argument even if it is known, so a verse is needed to remove that obstacle rather than to introduce the logic itself. It gives examples such as a single witness in testimony about a woman and the mechanism of conspiring witnesses.

The distinction within the law of the wayward and rebellious son

The text clarifies that the discussion in Meiri is not about the core novelty of the wayward and rebellious son or the severity of the punishment, but about the specific scriptural decree of “a son and not a daughter” and the rationale for excluding daughters from that law.

The reason of the verse: halakhic use versus interpretation of the Torah

The text states that the dispute over “do we derive law from the reason of the verse?” is not about whether one may write interpretations and reasons for the Torah at all, but about using purposive interpretation to draw halakhic conclusions. It emphasizes that one may interpret the Torah, but the problem is turning the reason into a tool that determines practical Jewish law against what emerges from the wording of the verse.

Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral: Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda

The text presents the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda: Rabbi Shimon limits the prohibition to a poor widow, because taking her nighttime garment as collateral obligates the lender to return it at night and creates gossip that “he gives her a bad name among her neighbors,” whereas with a rich widow there is no need to return it, so that concern does not arise. It presents Rabbi Yehuda as someone who does not draw halakhic conclusions from the reason and therefore applies the prohibition to every widow, even if he agrees that Rabbi Shimon’s proposed reason makes sense.

Critique of the “fear of error” as a reason not to derive law from the verse’s reason

The text argues that the “slippery slope” explanation and the fear of interpretive error are unconvincing, because not using the reason may also lead to halakhic error when the reason is correct. It sharpens the point by saying that, logically, the chance of error is actually greater when one refuses to use a reasonable and accepted reason. It adds that even in the case of a wealthy widow, the result is “serious,” because banning collateral may harm the lender, deter loans, and ultimately hurt borrowers as well.

Prosbul, enactments for the benefit of the poor, and “so that the door not be locked”

The text cites Hillel the Elder’s prosbul as an example of a regulation that seems at first glance to be stricter for the poor but was actually intended to benefit them, because without it lenders would stop lending. It compares this to the enactment in Sanhedrin where they waived formal examination and cross-examination in cases of admissions and loans “so that the door not be locked before borrowers,” and adds a discussion of how an enactment can appear to run against the Torah, including mention of Tosafot in Gittin 36 on the Sabbatical year in our time being rabbinic.

A king shall not accumulate many wives: reversal of the positions when the reason is written explicitly

The text presents the passage in Sanhedrin 21, where it says, “He shall not multiply wives for himself, and his heart shall not turn aside,” and explains that when the Torah itself writes the reason explicitly, the positions of Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda reverse. According to Rabbi Shimon, since he does derive law from the reason of the verse, the fact that the Torah wrote the reason means it must be interpreted as an additional law: “he shall not multiply” is a numerical limit, while “his heart shall not turn aside” forbids even a single wife if she turns his heart aside. According to Rabbi Yehuda, the fact that the Torah wrote the reason allows one to use it, and therefore it is permitted to multiply righteous wives like Abigail beyond eighteen.

Maimonides’ ruling like the first anonymous view and Nachmanides’ critique

The text explains that Maimonides, in his commentary to the Mishnah, rules: “And the Jewish law ruling is neither like Rabbi Yehuda nor like Rabbi Shimon,” and explains this by saying that Maimonides reads the Mishnah as if the line “he shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen” is the view of the first anonymous tanna, and Maimonides rules like that first anonymous view. It cites Nachmanides in his glosses to the fifth root, who attacks Maimonides on the basis of that Talmudic passage and argues that the position does not fit either Rabbi Yehuda or Rabbi Shimon. The text explains that Nachmanides did not realize that Maimonides is in fact following a third view—one that says we do not derive law from the reason of the verse even when the reason is written explicitly in the Torah.

An alternative explanation: the problem is in applying the reason, not in the reason itself

The text suggests that Maimonides and the first anonymous view assume that the wording of the Torah is precise, so when purposive interpretation leads to a result that contradicts the language of the verse, the problem lies in the application of the reason rather than in the reason itself. It illustrates this with the king: the reason “so that his heart not turn aside” is true, but the application that limits the concern only to unrighteous wives is mistaken, because even many righteous wives can turn his heart aside. Therefore, the wording “he shall not multiply” remains in force even when a reason is stated explicitly.

Harmony between linguistic interpretation and purposive interpretation

The text argues that according to this approach there is, in principle, a correlation between linguistic interpretation and purposive interpretation, and therefore when there is a lack of correspondence one should suspect an error in the practical application of the purposive reading. It uses parallels from logic—semantics and syntax—and mentions the “soundness and completeness theorem” to illustrate the possibility of reaching the same conclusion through different tools.

Pardes, revealed and hidden, and scriptural decree as a breakdown of harmony

The text presents a conception of multiple planes of interpretation—plain meaning, hint, exposition, and secret—and raises the hypothetical claim that they ought to converge on the same result, so there is no absolute need to check every plane in every ruling. It notes that in practice there are tensions between the revealed and the hidden, cites Magen Avraham in section 32, who says that when there is a dispute between the revealed and the hidden one rules in accordance with the revealed, and mentions that the Vilna Gaon, in many places, tries to reconcile such contradictions. It explains that the possible harmony between the planes is not necessarily a “local” harmony of rule against rule but a “global” harmony of outcomes, and presents the concept of scriptural decree as a breaking point where one system lacks a full explanation while another system supplies it.

Philosophical and technical examples of separating linguistic manipulation from meaning

The text brings John Searle’s “Chinese Room” example to show the possibility of functioning at the level of input-output without semantic understanding, and connects this to the possibility of halakhic ruling from the wording of the verse without direct engagement with its purpose. It also brings Hofstadter’s MU system as an example of different languages that generate the same set of outcomes, and ties this to the idea of global correspondence rather than a one-to-one mapping between rules.

Beyond the exceptions: Rif and Rosh on tooth and foot damage in the public domain

The text cites the Rif at the beginning of Bava Kamma, who writes that tooth and foot damage in the public domain are exempt “because that is their normal way,” and the Rosh, who wonders why there is any need to explain the reason when there is already a derivation from the verse “and it grazed in another’s field,” from which they derive “and not in the public domain.” It quotes the Rosh explaining that the reason comes to clarify the reason of the verse and has a practical implication in a case of a tree or a plank part of which is in the public domain and part in private property, where the animal stepped in the public domain and thereby caused breakage in private property; according to the logic of “that is its normal way,” the result is exemption.

The Talmud in Bava Kamma: primary categories of damages as conceptual definitions

The text points out that at the beginning of Bava Kamma, the Talmud defines horn, tooth, and foot not as physical organs but as conceptual categories of damages according to characteristics such as intent to damage, abnormality, “its way is to go and damage,” and “it derives benefit from its damage.” It argues that such definitions create halakhic consequences and reopen the question of deriving law from the reason of the verse, because the Torah presents concrete cases while the Talmud turns them into abstract structures that guide halakhic rulings.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We were in the middle of the issue of the reason of the verse—logical arguments and reasons—and I’ll just go back a little so we can locate where we are. I started with the discussion of the concept of a scriptural decree, and the claim was that even if something is defined as a scriptural decree, that does not mean that at its foundation there is no reason whatsoever—that is, that it has no reason. Sometimes maybe it’s just hard for us to get to the reason. But these notions, what Maimonides brings in the Guide for the Perplexed, that there are things imposed on us with absolutely no reason, that sounds strange. So at most, what one can discuss is how accessible the reason is to us, rather than whether there is or is not a reason at all. Now, even regarding the question of how accessible the reason is to us, there is exaggeration here too, because even things that are written, even things defined as a scriptural decree, we saw that in the end the Talmud and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) do offer reasons for them. And not only do they offer reasons for them, they even take those reasons seriously. I brought Meiri on the wayward son and not a daughter, and Meiri says that it is not the way of a daughter to rob people. The Talmud says: why is the wayward and rebellious son judged based on his ultimate future? They kill him while he is still young, because when he grows up he’ll rob people. So Meiri says that this concern does not exist regarding a daughter, and therefore the Talmud expounds: a son and not a daughter. And then he asks: but don’t we say that we do not derive law from the reason of the verse? This is defined as a scriptural decree. And if it is defined as a scriptural decree, then how can I possibly offer an explanation—namely, that it is not the way of a daughter to rob people? So he says: no, even scriptural decrees have explanations. But what really emerges from his words is not only that they have explanations, but that the explanations can also be understood by us. Because he doesn’t just say that there is some explanation somewhere up in the seventh heaven—he proposes it. That is, he actually says what it is. So then the question came up: if so, why define something as a scriptural decree at all? What does the verse add if I can explain things on my own? So the claim was that there are several possibilities. I’ll just say them briefly. One possibility is that maybe the reason isn’t strong enough—that is, without the verse I might not have thought I could actually follow that reason. If we take Meiri’s example, let’s say there had not been the exposition “a son and not a daughter”; there would just have been the law of the wayward and rebellious son. If the Sages had on their own initiative decided to say that this applies only to a son and not to a daughter, even though everyone might understand that with a daughter there is less concern that she will eventually rob people—that still doesn’t mean that this logic would have led them to that conclusion. You could also say, there are children, I don’t know, who grow up in a certain school—usually they don’t become robbers. We’ve known this school for many years, so maybe there should be no law of the wayward and rebellious son there either. How far do you take that? So very often, even if the logic is understandable to us, we still would not go with it, or we would not rule on its basis, were it not for some verse telling us so. So the fact that there is logic does not mean the verse is unnecessary. Another possibility is basically to say that we would not have known this reasoning were it not for the verse. In other words, once the verse exists, we begin looking for logical reasons, and then we find the logic underlying it. But if there had been no verse, it might never have occurred to us.

[Speaker B] What—or the opposite? The Sages wanted some particular idea, wanted to establish something, and to anchor it they looked for a verse in order to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what’s called an asmachta. I’m not talking about asmachtot. I’m talking about verses from which the law genuinely emerges, not just a matter of… yes. And a third thing I brought there has to do with situations where, even if the reasoning is clear, according to the rules of Jewish law we still would not apply it. For example, one witness in testimony concerning a woman—say a woman whose husband died, or they suspect her husband died, they don’t know, there’s no real testimony. One witness comes and says: I saw him, he died. Now, fundamentally, in matters of sexual status there are no fewer than two witnesses. So you need two witnesses; without that you cannot permit the woman. But the Sages established—and almost all opinions say this is rabbinic—that one witness is accepted as well. Once one witness is accepted, the Talmud says: a woman investigates carefully before marrying. In other words, there are various explanations for why one witness is enough. And if, say, a relative—a related witness, a witness suspected of lying—is not accepted in testimony concerning a woman, because we need to know the truth, whether the husband died or not. If the witness lies, this isn’t a matter of leniency where we accept a lying witness. But there are witnesses—

[Speaker B] that…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In matters of prohibition and permission, one witness is believed as a matter of basic law. I’m talking now about the rabbinic enactment to accept one witness in testimony concerning a woman. One witness is believed in prohibitions—that’s basic law, not an enactment. But here the basic point is that we’re actually… well, really this connects a bit more to what comes later,

[Speaker B] also

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] but we can say it here too. And the claim in the end is that what keeps us from applying it—let’s say our reasoning existed, we could have accepted one witness just because he is trustworthy, period. But according to the rules of Jewish law, you need two witnesses. So even if the reasoning exists, sometimes Jewish law tells us not to use the reasoning. Therefore, in a place where one does use that reasoning, you need a verse that tells me to use the reasoning—not because the reasoning is weak, not because I wouldn’t have known it without the verse, but because even if I knew it, I still wouldn’t use it because of the rules of Jewish law. I think the better example I gave was conspiring witnesses. Yes, conspiring witnesses—that’s a better example; that’s what I illustrated then. The claim is that even if there are reasons behind the preference for the second set of witnesses over the first set of witnesses—why we accept the second witnesses—still, according to the rules of Jewish law, it’s two against two, or there are all kinds of limitations we saw there, such that by the rules of Jewish law that testimony could not be accepted. Therefore you need verses about conspiracy to teach me that here I may apply the reasoning. And that is a third mechanism, because in that mechanism the verse adds nothing at all to my knowledge: I already knew the reasoning fully even without the verse. But there is still an obstacle to applying the reasoning because of the rules of Jewish law. So in a certain place, where Jewish law nevertheless wants us to use the reasoning, it brings a verse. Then the verse is basically telling me: use the reasoning; there is no obstacle. It removes obstacles; it doesn’t introduce the reasoning itself.

[Speaker C] In Meiri’s case, couldn’t one say that the scriptural decree affects the severity of the punishment? After all, the reasoning doesn’t clash with the scriptural decree; it’s on a parallel plane. This one talks about a trait and that one talks about severity.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the scriptural decree is the law of the wayward and rebellious son itself. The scriptural decree here is that it is a son and not a daughter. It has nothing to do with the severity of the punishment. We’re not talking about the severity of the punishment; the question is why daughters are excluded. Is the scriptural decree about the fact that they execute a person who according to all the normal rules is not liable? That is indeed a scriptural decree in the law of the wayward and rebellious son—but that’s not what

[Speaker C] is being discussed here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meiri is discussing a different scriptural decree within the laws of the wayward and rebellious son. Not the law itself, but the fact that we excluded daughters. So there is an exposition, and he says: then why are you giving me reasons that a daughter is not destined to rob people? He’s speaking only about that aspect—why daughters are excluded. After that, the next stage was to deal with the question of the reason of the verse, where we still haven’t finished. And the claim basically is that if every law rests on some rationale—even scriptural decrees are really based on some reason or rationale—that was the conclusion of the first part of the discussion, then it would seem natural to say that we should follow the reason of the verse when we have explanations for a verse that appears in the Torah. But it turns out that after the tannaim disputed this—whether we derive law from the reason of the verse—in practice the Jewish law ruling follows Rabbi Yehuda, that we do not derive law from the reason of the verse. Then the question is: why? If we have a reason for a law, why not use it?

[Speaker B] When I need to—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s important to sharpen the point that to use the reason of the verse does not mean to give explanations as interpretation of verses. All Torah commentators wrote interpretations of verses; there’s no issue there of “the reason of the verse.” The issue of the reason of the verse is where we use purposive interpretation, or interpretation of what the law is trying to achieve, on the halakhic plane—where we derive halakhic conclusions from that interpretation, not just offer little sermonettes for the weekly Torah portion. So this also teaches you, by the way, how impossible it is to make use of Bible commentators for… anyway. In any case, the claim is that there is no problem interpreting the Torah, but there is a problem using that interpretation when we try to derive a halakhic conclusion from it. The example here is: “Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral.” That is what Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda dispute. “Do not take a widow’s garment as collateral”—Rabbi Shimon says this applies only to a poor widow, not to a rich widow. And Rabbi Yehuda says it applies both to a poor widow and to a rich widow, because he does not derive law from the reason of the verse. Rabbi Shimon says: why should one not take a widow’s garment as collateral? There is logic behind it. What is the logic? As we discussed, not because she is pitiable, but because he gives her a bad name among her neighbors. That is, if you take her nighttime garment, then at night you have to return it, because she is poor. Then people start gossiping about the two of you: what is a young fellow like you doing in a widow’s house at night? Since that is the concern, they say: don’t take it at all—do not take a widow’s garment as collateral. With a rich widow there is no problem, because you don’t need to return it to her. If she has her own, then you don’t need to return it, and the problem never arises. Therefore Rabbi Shimon says that this law exists only in the case of a poor widow. And Rabbi Yehuda says: we do not derive law from the reason of the verse. Again, when Rabbi Yehuda says we do not derive law from the reason of the verse, what that means is: your reason may well be correct. He doesn’t necessarily dispute Rabbi Shimon’s reason at all—at least, he doesn’t have to. All he says is that we don’t draw halakhic conclusions from it. In other words, in the Torah commentary Rabbi Yehuda would have written, maybe Rabbi Shimon’s explanation would have appeared there. That is, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with Rabbi Shimon’s interpretation. He only claims that one may not derive halakhic conclusions from it. And then the question really arises: why not? So I suggested the possibilities that usually come up in the commentators on this issue. Very close to this appears the story of King Solomon, who said that he would multiply wives and his heart would not turn aside. About the king, it says that he shall not multiply wives for himself—and he sinned. So some commentators say that because of this, we do not derive law from the reason of the verse, because of the fear of a slippery slope. In other words, once you start following the reasons, you’ll begin applying them—

[Speaker B] But that’s specifically when the reason is written explicitly.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, in just a second I’ll get to that. I’m only bringing that example for now; you’re right that it isn’t exact.

[Speaker B] Because if the reason is correct and you don’t follow it, then you’re also making a mistake.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly, and that is the point I made against that explanation. Because that explanation is strange: it assumes that if I use an incorrect reason, I’ll arrive at an error. And they wanted to prevent that, so they say: don’t use the reason. But I ask: what about the opposite concern, that if you don’t use the reason, you’ll arrive at an incorrect conclusion? Let’s go back to “do not take a widow’s garment as collateral.” Rabbi Shimon says: only a poor widow. Rabbi Yehuda says: also a rich widow—even though Rabbi Yehuda also agrees that Rabbi Shimon’s reason is a correct reason. He just says it’s forbidden to use it in halakhic interpretation. Now I don’t understand—which of them is more likely to err in Jewish law, Rabbi Shimon or Rabbi Yehuda? Clearly Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Shimon says he has a reason that even Rabbi Yehuda says is the sensible reason—he agrees too. So if that’s the case, the conclusion Rabbi Shimon draws is probably correct. Not certain—maybe we made a mistake—but probably correct. And if so, when according to Rabbi Yehuda you refrain from taking collateral from a rich widow, in the end you are making a mistake in Jewish law. In a moment we’ll see whether that’s so terrible; we’ll get to that. You’re refraining from taking collateral from a rich widow, even though really the Torah intended only a poor widow. So here too, one can arrive at error. More than that, I’ll say: the likelihood of error is greater for Rabbi Yehuda than for Rabbi Shimon. Because what is the scenario in which Rabbi Shimon makes a mistake? Rabbi Shimon offers an explanation, derives a halakhic conclusion from it, but in truth the explanation is wrong—he made a mistake in interpretation. That’s the possibility of Rabbi Shimon being wrong. What is the possibility of Rabbi Yehuda being wrong? That he does not derive a conclusion from the explanation, but the explanation really is correct—Rabbi Shimon’s explanation. So in fact you should have drawn the conclusion, but out of fear you didn’t, and so you erred because the explanation really was correct. Now I ask: if someone offers an explanation, and both sides agree that the explanation is reasonable, what is more likely—that the explanation is correct or that it is incorrect? More likely that it is correct. So if that’s true, the chance that Rabbi Yehuda is mistaken is greater than the chance that Rabbi Shimon is mistaken. So there is no… now here I come to the point of “it’s not so bad.” Here the instinct is indeed: it’s not so bad. What does that mean, “not so bad”? First of all, even if in this specific case it’s not so bad, that’s one case. But you’re establishing a sweeping rule that we do not derive law from the reason of the verse; many times that will be very bad. So it’s not right to rely only on this particular case, even if in this case it’s not so bad. But beyond that—it is bad even here. Why do you take collateral? You take collateral because you want security for your money. You lent someone money and you want to be sure he’ll repay you, so you take collateral. Right? Now you tell the lender: don’t take collateral. So what are you really doing? You’re hurting a person. It could be that in the case of a rich widow, Rabbi Yehuda says you still may not take collateral from her. Now who is in greater distress? Maybe the lender is in greater distress than the widow. She has some temporary cash-flow problem, so he gave her a loan. She invested in—I don’t know—Google, fine? So she needed a loan. He gave her a loan. And now he can’t take collateral. The poor fellow may go bankrupt and she won’t return the money. She won’t return the money because he has no collateral—he has no leverage to force her to repay. So he gets hurt. And it could be that his economic situation is worse than hers. So first of all, who says that such a thing is not serious? That’s simply not true. The borrower is not always the weaker side, at least not in every case. And the other side of the same coin is that because a person won’t receive security for his money, he won’t lend at all. That’s always the absurdity people point out.

[Speaker B] But if he doesn’t lend to her, that’s not so terrible.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he won’t lend to anyone. Once there’s no collateral, he just won’t lend.

[Speaker B] Right, but besides that, she also needs it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And besides, if she took that loan, then apparently she needs it too, so why shouldn’t he lend to her? What’s the idea? Let him take collateral from her. What would she prefer—not to be lent to at all? The rich widow—would she prefer not to be lent to at all, or to be lent to and have collateral taken? She too would prefer the second option. So why don’t you allow it? Why don’t you let them? They themselves want it, and you’re worrying about them more than they worry about themselves. Yes, socialist conceptions often look like that—you worry about the weak when they themselves would have given up that kind of concern. So that point of yours reminds me of the prosbul. Right? Hillel the Elder’s prosbul is supposedly the opposite of common sense. Hillel wanted to care for the poor, and therefore what? Therefore he established that debts would have to be repaid and would not be canceled in the Sabbatical year. Is that called caring for the poor? You just hurt them even more. The answer is yes, that is called caring for the poor. Why? Because if lenders have no guarantee that they’ll get their money back, they won’t lend. So what do you, the borrower, want—that no one should lend to you at all, or that they should lend to you and you’ll have to repay even after the Sabbatical year? Obviously you want the second option. I’ve already mentioned once the saying of the Vizhnitz Rebbe: it is better to fail through baseless love than through baseless hatred. My claim is that it’s better not to fail in either—that’s best. Very often we take two bad options and choose the less bad of the two, but there is also a good option—why not put that on the table? So here too, same thing. True, the poor person would be very happy if people lent to him and he were exempt from repaying. But that is not an option that will exist. If you require someone to lend money and not get it back, he simply won’t lend. So then what? Now, of the two bad options left to the poor person—either nobody lends to him at all, or they lend to him and he must repay despite the Sabbatical year—obviously he prefers the second option. Therefore Hillel really was taking care of the poor. The same is true of that enactment at the beginning of tractate Sanhedrin—the enactment that says they waived formal examination and cross-examination in admissions and loan cases. No need for formal examination and cross-examination. By Torah law they should have been required, but they waived them in testimony concerning loans. Why? Seemingly, you are hurting the borrower. Sorry—you are giving the lender more power than he had before. The lender is the strong side in the matter, and you’re giving him more power. He brings witnesses; they don’t even have to be examined, and once there are witnesses he gets his money back. But clearly, in the end they did this so that the door not be locked before borrowers—the Talmud says so explicitly—so that the door not be locked before borrowers, meaning so that there would in fact be loans, which in the end is for the benefit of the poor.

[Speaker B] Okay, so in our case he rules against what is explicitly written in the Torah. Who? The enactment of prosbul.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He doesn’t rule; it’s an enactment.

[Speaker B] Yes, but how does he make an enactment that goes against what is written?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Every enactment is like that. What do you mean? Otherwise why would you need an enactment?

[Speaker B] They made a fence around the Torah—that’s an addition, it fits in, it doesn’t go against it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s a different question. It’s not so clear. On the simple reading, this is an enactment. There are those who want to claim that it is handing over one’s documents to the religious court, and that this is a Torah-level law. But the simple reading in the Talmud is that it’s an enactment. There is Tosafot in Gittin 36—there

[Speaker B] prosbul was instituted only after the Sabbatical year in our time became rabbinic. What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] After the Sabbatical year in our time became rabbinic. And why? Because then it’s not against a Torah-level law, but against a rabbinic law. Therefore they did it only

[Speaker B] when the Sabbatical year in our time is rabbinic.

[Speaker C] Okay, so—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The accepted explanation for why we do not derive law from the reason of the verse is fear of error in interpretation, and then you’ll end up doing the halakhically wrong thing. But that explanation, as I said, still seems very problematic to me, because the fear of error in the opposite direction is greater. The fear that you won’t use an explanation which, according to the assumption of all the Sages involved, is correct—and then you don’t use it—then with your own hands you are making a mistake. It’s not even just a fear; it’s almost certain that you’re making a mistake.

[Speaker C] And what if it is correct, but not exclusive?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] For me that’s called not correct. But why do you call that non-exclusive?

[Speaker C] If there is one reason and also other reasons?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then it’s not correct—it means it’s incomplete. For me, that’s not correct. It doesn’t have to contain an outright mistake in it, but it’s incomplete. It’s incomplete. But I’m saying, that’s the theory of hidden reasons, known in the name of the Vilna Gaon. We’ll still get to deriving reasons for enactments, which parallels the reason of the verse. We’ll get to that later. There indeed the Vilna Gaon says that even with enactments we do not follow the reason, and there he explains it because of the concern that there are hidden reasons beyond the reason we thought of. And then he says… and then that means that even if our reason is correct, maybe there are still more reasons. That sounds very dubious to me there too, but…

[Speaker B] So then they should hide the enactments? What? The hidden reasons of the enactments?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s his claim. We’ll get there, we’ll get there. Fine—whether it’s serious or not, first we have to know if it’s true, and afterward we can ask whether it’s serious. Okay, so if that explanation for deriving law from the reason of the verse doesn’t work, then the question is what explanation does. And then in the last lecture I brought the passage in Sanhedrin 21 that discusses the king not multiplying wives for himself—actually, the lecture before last—“he shall not multiply wives, and his heart shall not turn aside.” There too, once again, there is a dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda, except that their positions reverse. That is, Rabbi Shimon does not derive law from the reason of the verse and Rabbi Yehuda does. The Talmud asks: how can that be? And then the Talmud says: because here the Torah explicitly writes the reason. Since it says, “He shall not multiply wives for himself, and his heart shall not turn aside.” So the Torah itself states the reason. The argument between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda is in a case where the Torah gives the law and we interpret what the reason is. But there are places where the Torah itself states the reason. So then what? Then everything reverses. Why? Because Rabbi Shimon, who normally derives law from the reason of the verse, asks himself: then why did the Torah write the reason? Even if You hadn’t written it, I would have derived the reason of the verse. It must therefore be that what the Torah wrote is not a reason for the law, but another law. So “he shall not multiply wives for himself” is one law, and “his heart shall not turn aside” is another law. “He shall not multiply wives for himself” means beyond eighteen, and “his heart shall not turn aside” means even one, if she turns his heart aside. That is Rabbi Shimon. Precisely because he derives law from the reason of the verse, in a place where the reason is written explicitly, he takes that reason not as a reason but as an additional law. Rabbi Yehuda, who does not derive law from the reason of the verse—in a place where the reason is written, then there’s no problem, because the Torah itself wrote the reason; this connects to the idea of a scriptural decree. So the Torah itself wrote the reason so that we should use it. That means that according to Rabbi Yehuda, here we really do derive law from the reason of the verse, and it is permitted to multiply wives who are righteous like Abigail, even more than eighteen, according to Rabbi Yehuda.

[Speaker B] According to Rabbi Shimon, who says that “his heart shall not turn aside” is another law for the king—is that a law for every person too? Why, why…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not a law there; for every person it’s a recommendation. For a king it’s law; for a king it’s a commandment. There are many things that are true, but that still doesn’t make them a commandment. We’ll get to that too; later we’ll discuss logical arguments. You’re asking whether everything that emerges from logic automatically becomes a law that applies to everyone? Not so simple. Not simple at all. We’ll see—that’s the next chapter, the chapter on logical arguments.

[Speaker B] Does Maimonides treat “his heart shall not turn aside” as a separate commandment?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no. Maimonides—this is what I brought from Maimonides; that’s where we ended the lecture before last. Maimonides writes there briefly at the end of his commentary to the Mishnah: and the Jewish law ruling is neither like Rabbi Yehuda nor like Rabbi Shimon. Then the question is: what’s left? The Jewish law ruling follows me—Maimonides says, the Jewish law ruling follows me. Yes, yes, I explained this. And I said that it’s clear Maimonides read the Mishnah differently. It says: “He shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen.” Rabbi Shimon says: he may multiply them, provided they do not turn his heart aside, and Rabbi Yehuda says… We can say it the other way around. Rabbi Yehuda says what he says. Usually we understand—and so too Nachmanides in his glosses to the fifth root—Nachmanides understood that the first sentence is a heading: “He shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen.” And then comes the dispute of Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon. But Maimonides understands the first line as another opinion: “He shall not multiply wives for himself beyond eighteen” is the first anonymous tanna. Rabbi Yehuda says one thing, Rabbi Shimon says another. And Maimonides rules neither like Rabbi Yehuda nor like Rabbi Shimon, but like the first anonymous view. And what that first anonymous view says is that we do not derive law from the reason of the verse even in a place where the reason is written explicitly—which is neither like Rabbi Yehuda nor like Rabbi Shimon. That is why Nachmanides, in his glosses to the fifth root, attacks Maimonides. He says: after all, you say that there are… The subject of the fifth root is that when there are verses in the Torah that come to explain some law, they are not counted in the enumeration of the commandments. That’s the topic of the fifth root. He isn’t speaking specifically about the reason of the verse, but clearly that is in the background. Now Nachmanides attacks him on the basis of that passage in Sanhedrin, and says: this fits neither Rabbi Yehuda nor Rabbi Shimon. It doesn’t work with either of them. For according to both of them, the second verse comes to say some law—the question is which law. Does it come to make me derive the reason of the verse in the first verse, which is a legal consequence, or to constitute a separate command, which is also a legal consequence? In any event, the second verse does not come merely to tell the reasons; it comes to make a halakhic statement. So you’re following neither Rabbi Yehuda nor Rabbi Shimon. What Nachmanides did not understand is that Maimonides indeed does not follow Rabbi Yehuda or Rabbi Shimon—he says so explicitly in the commentary to the Mishnah. Maimonides follows the first anonymous tanna, and the first anonymous tanna is a third approach that says we do not derive law from the reason of the verse even when the reason is written explicitly.

[Speaker C] How do you see that from the wording? What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “He shall not multiply for himself beyond eighteen.”

[Speaker C] But you don’t see from the wording that you never derive law from the reason of the verse. This only concerns a place where there is an explicit reason, and even there they don’t derive from it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because they don’t derive, because they don’t derive—and here—

[Speaker C] where it says not—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] derive. But if one wife turns his heart aside, they don’t take her either. Fine.

[Speaker C] Rabbi Shimon says that.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why isn’t that like…? Because the first anonymous tanna doesn’t agree with that.

[Speaker C] But that isn’t explicit in his words. His words are: “He shall not multiply wives for himself except…”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Eighteen, period. No distinction—righteous women, wicked women, everything is eighteen, that’s it. Does Rabbi Shimon agree with that? No. Rabbi Shimon says if there’s even one wicked woman, you don’t take her, because she turns his heart away. There’s another commandment: “and his heart shall not turn away.” Is that an additional commandment? Well, it’s not really another commandment; it explains the previous commandment. So the question is really prior to the question. First of all, when there’s a dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda—and that’s how all the later authorities routinely explain it—we’re used to saying that the Jewish law follows Rabbi Yehuda, because we do not derive law from the reason for the verse. The truth is that in Maimonides that’s not correct. The Jewish law follows neither Rabbi Shimon nor Rabbi Yehuda; it follows the first tanna. That makes a difference, because Rabbi Yehuda says that when the reason is written explicitly in the Torah, then he does derive law from the reason for the verse. Maimonides rules like the first tanna, that even when the reason is written explicitly in the Torah, we do not derive law from it. The big question is why.

So wait, let’s try to see what is written. Wait, same thing—that’s the same question. Why is it written there, and therefore why don’t we derive law from it? Yes, that’s the same question. As I said earlier, it seems to me that this connects to the difficulty in the standard explanation. The standard explanation apparently fits Rabbi Yehuda’s view. The explanation that says we do not derive law from the reason for the verse out of concern for error—then it would follow that if the Torah itself states the reason, there’s no concern for error, so there we do derive law from it. That is Rabbi Yehuda’s claim. Therefore Nachmanides and all those who read this Mishnah as though it contains only two opinions—Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda—they also explain the idea of “we do not derive law from the reason for the verse” in accordance with Rabbi Yehuda, because they think there are only those two. Either Rabbi Shimon or Rabbi Yehuda; the Jewish law follows Rabbi Yehuda, and that’s it. And then what comes out is that the problem with deriving law from the reason for the verse is the concern for error. And if the reason is written explicitly in the Torah, then there’s no such concern, so yes, you do derive law from it. Then there’s no problem.

But Maimonides says we do not derive law from it even when the reason is written explicitly. What does that mean? It means that the fact that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse is not because of concern for error. Because if it were because of concern for error, then when the reason is written explicitly there is no such concern. So why not? First, just one more remark before that. I already said that concern for error is a bad explanation for why we don’t derive law from the reason for the verse, because not deriving law from the reason for the verse is even more likely to lead to error—that’s what I said at the beginning. Okay, so that connects to what I said earlier, and maybe that itself is what leads Maimonides—or first of all the first tanna, and afterward Maimonides who follows him—to say that this is not what “we do not derive law from the reason for the verse” means. It’s not about concern for error. So what is it? Why don’t we derive law from the reason for the verse even when it is written?

It seems to me that a plausible explanation, at least, is this: when do you derive law from the reason for the verse? When the verse itself is written in a certain way, and purposive interpretation leads you to a different conclusion. Here the verse says, “You shall not take a widow’s garment as collateral,” which sounds like any widow; the verse doesn’t qualify it. And then you say: yes, but the logic of the law exists only regarding a poor widow, therefore only a poor widow is included, not a wealthy widow. So wherever purposive analysis—deriving from the reason—leads to a different conclusion from what is written, that is where the question of deriving law from the reason for the verse arises. Right? Only then do we discuss it, because then the question is whether to follow the reason or not.

Maimonides says: wherever there is a contradiction between purposive interpretation and what is written in the Torah, apparently you are not doing the purposive interpretation correctly. Because there is no reason to assume that the Torah expresses itself imprecisely. At least on the assumption that the Holy One, blessed be He, wrote the Torah, then He knows how to write, and what you are really trying to say is that He wrote it imprecisely. Here—we do purposive interpretation and see that the wording is not precise, so we have to interpret it differently from what the wording implies. So the first tanna, and following him Maimonides, will apparently say: no. Our assumption is that the wording is precise. If it says, “You shall not take a widow’s garment as collateral,” it means any widow. Ah—but the reason? Rabbi Yehuda also agrees that the reason is what Rabbi Shimon says. There is no dispute that this is the reason. The whole question is only whether to derive law from it.

And notice, here there is a very interesting point. The first tanna—or Rabbi Yehuda—will say to us: so what are you saying? You are basically saying that it is permissible to marry thirty women if they are as righteous as Abigail, right—more than eighteen? “He shall not take many wives” means eighteen, but it would be permissible to marry thirty women if they are as righteous as Abigail? Because the whole problem is the concern lest his heart turn away. So the answer is no: the rationale is not merely the concern lest his heart turn away from wicked women; the rationale is the concern lest his heart turn away, period. Even thirty righteous women will turn his heart away. The application of the reason—I agree with the reason you are saying, Rabbi Shimon. The reason is lest his heart turn away. That is obvious; it is written in the Torah. I’m not disputing a reason written in the Torah. I am only claiming that if you arrive at a dissonance between the reason and what is written in the verse, then no—you have not applied the reason correctly. You think that turning the heart away happens only because of unrighteous women. Not true. If he has thirty women in his palace, then even if they are very righteous, they will turn his heart away—he’ll spend all his time dealing with all their little dramas instead of dealing with important matters. And therefore even thirty women will turn his heart away. We don’t have the wife who usually sits here now, so maybe not thirty. Yes, right.

[Speaker C] But then why is the reason written at all?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So he says—Maimonides says this explicitly—the reason is written in order to explain the law to you.

[Speaker C] And why there and not elsewhere?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because there they wanted to explain the law to you. He didn’t give you a criterion for when yes and when no. And he writes explicitly that when the Torah states the reason, it is in order to explain the law to you, not in order to create a new law. It is to explain the existing law.

[Speaker C] That’s the whole issue of his fifth root.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And now notice—the point is an interesting one, because what comes out of this is really what I said earlier. This was the question we were actually dealing with. The question I’m starting from is that the standard explanation for why we do not derive law from the reason for the verse is not logical. Because that explanation says: concern for error. And I say, what do you mean? If you don’t derive law from the reason for the verse, then there’s no concern for error? The concern for error is even greater. So he says no—what is that based on? It is based on the fact that the reason suggested by Rabbi Shimon is accepted by everyone. They do not dispute that this is the reason. The only question is whether to use it in interpretation; there is no dispute that this is the reason.

So I said: fine, if that is the reason, then the likelihood of making a mistake is greater if you don’t use the reason. He says no—now notice this example is a wonderful one, because here the reason is written, and everyone agrees that this is the reason, and still there can be a mistake—not in the reason, but in the application. You understood the reason correctly, but you think that the reason, “lest his heart turn away,” exists only where the women are unfit. The Torah tells you: no, you are mistaken in the application. The reason is correct. The reason is that his heart should not turn away. It is forbidden to multiply wives. But your application is mistaken, because there can be a turning away of the heart even from righteous women.

[Speaker C] If it’s one wicked woman, then would he permit it?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? Say that again.

[Speaker C] By that same principle, would Maimonides permit a king to marry one wicked woman?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because—

[Speaker C] I’m not understanding correctly? One wicked woman won’t turn his heart away?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Or at least not enough for the Torah to prohibit it. Meaning: with one wicked woman I can cope; with thirty righteous ones, good luck to him. Yes. Anyway, I’m bringing this as an example of a mechanism that on the one hand accepts Rabbi Shimon’s interpretation of the law. In other words, the reason Rabbi Shimon proposes is a correct reason; there is no dispute that this is the reason—or at least it is plausible that it is correct. You can always make a mistake, but that is not the level of the disagreement. Rabbi Yehuda and the first tanna do not argue with Rabbi Shimon because they think he is mistaken in interpretation. They say that even if you are right in the interpretation, you do not make use of it in halakhic interpretation. Write it as a commentary on the Torah if you want, but don’t use it in halakhic interpretation.

And why not? Rabbi Yehuda says: why? Because maybe you are mistaken. But then I say: what do you mean maybe I’m mistaken? This is the plausible reason—why assume I’m mistaken? If I don’t use the reason, it is even more plausible that I’ll be mistaken. And the first tanna says: no, no—because you are mistaken in the application. The reason is correct; I have no problem with that. When the reason is written in the Torah it is certainly correct. You are mistaken in the application. You think that turning the heart away comes only from wicked women, and that’s not true. Even from a multitude of righteous women there is turning away of the heart. So I think that is the most compelling plausible explanation for the first tanna and for Maimonides.

And then what this really means is that the problem is not the interpretation of the verses as such, but that wherever there is dissonance between the interpretation and the wording of the verse, there I am concerned that perhaps I am applying the interpretation incorrectly. So again, we still remain with the idea that one can interpret the Torah and write that as a Torah commentary. But one cannot use that on the halakhic plane. The rationale is a different one—not because the reason is incorrect, but because the reason is not being applied correctly. And that is the point, against the background assumption that the Torah is presumably formulated correctly and precisely. If the Holy One, blessed be He, wrote something, then He wrote what He intended.

I’ll just note that this actually connects to something else. I said in the previous class—we were talking about Passover—I said it was just in honor of Passover, but it is related to this issue, because there I derived law from the reason for the prohibition of leavened food. Just in honor of Passover. I’m only saying this here to get us to the stage where we are now, and I’ll return to it later. Because what I did there was derive law from the reason for the verse—not I, rather I claimed that Maimonides did that. I’m allowed, because Maimonides did it, not me. So Maimonides derived law from the reason for the verse, and the question is how that fits with the claim that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse. That’s what I was dealing with. I tried to show that Maimonides consistently derives law from the reason for the prohibition of leavened food. And that raises the question: how can that be? And to that question are joined many other examples in which we see that purposive interpretation is indeed used—what the Jewish law is. We do derive law from the reason for the verse in various places.

And then I’ll have to present several limitations on this matter of “we do not derive law from the reason for the verse.” In truth it is a very narrow rule. I mean, it looks like a sweeping rule: we do not derive law from the reason for the verse; whatever is written in the Torah we do as is. But between ourselves, there is not one verse that we actually do exactly as is. We are always interpreting. So the question is how this squares with this sweeping rule that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse. It’s not sweeping at all. What? Did I speak about the general rule? Yes, I spoke about the general rule. Here, this rule does not merely have a few exceptions—it itself is one big exception. So I’ll get to that. There are several very significant limitations on this matter of not deriving law from the reason for the verse, limitations that narrow its application considerably.

But just one more remark on what I said about Maimonides. What Maimonides is really telling us—or the first tanna, according to how Maimonides explains him—is that if we want to know the law, we must use linguistic interpretation and not purposive interpretation. That is, we need to take the wording of the verse and understand what follows from it, and not get into the question of why and what and what the Torah wants to achieve—what is called purposive interpretation. Now the claim is that usually—not usually, but if I do the purposive interpretation correctly—then it will always come out parallel. Meaning, the result will always be the same result I get from interpreting the verse itself. Therefore, where that is not what happens, and then the question arises whether to derive law from the reason for the verse or not, apparently you made a mistake in the purposive interpretation. That is basically what the first tanna says. The assumption is that purposive interpretation ought to fit linguistic interpretation. And that is a very interesting point.

I think we spoke about this once before—I no longer remember on what topic or in what context—but what Maimonides and the first tanna are really saying here is that we can relate to the same thing on several different planes, and on each of them carry out interpretive processes that seem, on the face of it, completely different, yet ultimately arrive at the same result. There is a correlation between linguistic interpretation and purposive interpretation. Right? That is basically the claim. And if there is no correlation, then you simply made a mistake in the purposive interpretation. Meaning: if I am precise with the language of the Torah, I arrive at halakhic conclusion X. If I do purposive interpretation—that is, I explain what the Torah intended to achieve—I will also arrive at conclusion X. It is the same conclusion. That is the assumption. Therefore we do not derive law from the reason for the verse, because they are really supposed to run in parallel. And if they do not run in parallel, then apparently there is a problem with the application of the purposive interpretation.

This is an example of such parallels. Again, I don’t remember in what context we discussed it, but many times in logic people speak about semantics and syntax. That is, we can perform some formal calculation and reach some conclusion, reach some result; or we can enter into the meanings and think about what they say and reach the same conclusion—and it will be the same conclusion. In logic there is even a theorem about this, what in Hebrew is called the theorem of adequacy and completeness. I don’t know how to say it in English. Soundness and completeness theorem. Okay. In any event, the claim is that if logic did not maintain this fit between the content—between the semantics, the meaning, and the syntax—then there would be no point in engaging in logic. This is how we do logic: we symbolize, we give form to the philosophical argument, and then we work with X, Y, Z, P, these things, and arrive at a conclusion. And our assumption is that the conclusion is correct. Why is it correct? Because the claim is that the calculation runs fully parallel to the philosophical thinking we would have done, and we would reach the same results.

[Speaker B] So maybe one is a subset of the other.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I’m not—

[Speaker B] Going into precision. Maybe syntax is a subset, and then you have a problem.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, and then there are problems. But I’m saying here the assumption is that this—

[Speaker B] Is not a contradiction but an expansion.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doesn’t matter. It is still a problem, because there are places where you won’t be able to do it. Fine. Here the assumption is that this does not exist. Meanwhile I said there is richness here too, and maybe we can return to that remark. So here, regarding this matter, I’ll maybe bring another example. It is commonly thought that there are four planes on which we interpret the Torah: plain meaning, hint, homiletic exposition, and secret—let’s say—which is of course only an acronym, and I don’t even know its sources, pardes. And each of these is of course divided into many shades; there are many kinds of hint, many kinds of homiletics—interpretations—but four types of interpretation. Right?

Now apparently, wherever we want to know what the Jewish law is, we ought to do the calculation on all four planes of reference: do the calculation according to the plain meaning, do the calculation according to homiletics, do the calculation according to the secret. Hint may not really be one of them, but at least according to plain meaning, homiletics, and secret. We don’t do that. Usually we do—

[Speaker C] Does each plane have the same weight?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not a matter of weight, I’m saying. Is it a level of importance? No, that’s not the issue. That’s why I say, we don’t need to get into that question, because they all have to be parallel. If they are all correct, why don’t we do the calculation on all the planes? Not because one is more important than another, but because they are supposed to give us the same result. That is, the assumption is that if we do the calculation in the language of the secret, in the world of the secret, we will arrive at the conclusion that the law is such-and-such, and if we do the calculation in the language of the plain meaning, we will arrive at the conclusion that the law is such-and-such—those conclusions are supposed to coincide.

Therefore there is no need always to check with the tools of the secret if we already did the calculation with the tools of the plain meaning—even though there are people of that sort. For example, they say this about Rabbi Chaim of Sanz, that he never issued a ruling before checking whether it also fit the matters of the secret. But in practice there are many halakhic decisors who are not versed in the secret at all and are still considered extremely important decisors, and people heed them, and no one—

[Speaker C] Are there also disputes because of the secret? Rabbi Eliyahu rules according to the secret.

[Speaker B] That’s more problematic, because then it means there isn’t overlap; then it means there isn’t overlap.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that’s true. Obviously this is some sort of hypothetical claim, saying there is overlap, and therefore I need not get excited—I can do the calculation on the revealed level and everything is fine. In practice, though, there are differences. There is the Magen Avraham in section 32, there in the laws of phylacteries. The Magen Avraham says there that according to the secret one gets a different result—I don’t even remember which law it is talking about—and then he says: but when there is a dispute between the revealed and the hidden, one rules according to the revealed. That is what the Magen Avraham says. Of course, the kabbalists rule according to the hidden, and the Magen Avraham himself was a man of the revealed, so they rule according to the revealed. And on that itself there would be the same dispute between the kabbalists and the non-kabbalistic decisors—the common denominator is to bake it, okay. In any case, yes, you do see contradictions. The Vilna Gaon, for example, in many places tries to reconcile what comes out of the plain meaning—for example, with the directions of beds, for those who know. There there is a difference between the plain meaning and the secret, and the Vilna Gaon tries to reconcile it.

[Speaker B] But if all of them are absolute, then it can’t be—if all of them were absolute, then they would all have to—but they are all according to the—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You are absolutely right; that was my point. This conception, as if they are supposed to be completely parallel, would be correct if each of them were mathematics. Meaning, if I could do the calculation of the plain meaning and arrive at an agreed, clear result with logical certainty—as if there were no doubt at all that this is the conclusion—and the same in the secret, then maybe—I don’t know, that is the thesis at least—I would arrive at the same place with both systems of tools. But that is not the situation. We know that even in the revealed there are many disputes. So what does it mean that the secret accords with the revealed? The secret accords with the revealed—which side of the revealed? There are disputes.

[Speaker C] Even the revealed doesn’t fit the revealed.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. So to which of the revealed answers is the secret supposed to correspond? Now notice, this is trickier than what I just said, because one could say that this still isn’t relevant. Why? Because if there is a correlation between the secret and the revealed, then the person who did the calculation in the revealed—when he himself does the calculation in the secret—will arrive at the same answer. And if someone disagrees with him, no problem: he will disagree with him both in the revealed and in the hidden, because these calculations are basically supposed to correspond. But that of course assumes some sort of naïve fit that does not exist—what I once called a local fit. A local fit means that every principle in the revealed has a parallel principle in the hidden, and then really you are just talking—like speaking Hebrew and English. Fine, you say the same thing in two languages. That is not the situation there. The fit there is more interesting.

There is a book by Godel Escher Bach—Hofstadter’s book—and there he gives some very nice examples of this matter. He presents a puzzle there, yes, the MI puzzle, M-I. He says there: we start with MU, M-U. There is a language with three letters, M, U, and I. Okay. He defines a puzzle—M, U, and I. The one legal word known to us is MU. Fine. Now there are, I think, four production rules—meaning: if something ends with U, you can duplicate everything after the M; if there are two I’s, you can delete both of them; and so on, things of that sort—rules for how you move from one word to another. Meaning, if one word is given, then by means of these rules you can derive other legal words from it, and thus you can define a language: you define the set of legal words in the language as the set of words that can be derived from the initial word by these derivation rules.

And then he asked—ultimately, okay, who asked this?

[Speaker B] Ultimately he—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Showed, he showed that a certain word is not legal. Meaning, he proved from the rules that that word is not legal. And afterward he said: I can formulate all of this in a completely different language. Meaning, I can say, for example, let M be three, I be one, and U be zero. To represent them with numbers instead of letters—that’s allowed, right? It is just another notation. But now notice that the first legal word is thirty-one. Right? If M is three and U is one—thirty-one. And now every derivation rule can be formulated in mathematical language. For example, if something ends with one, then you can multiply it by ten and add one. That’s really three hundred and eleven—duplicating the one. Right? So he translates it into arithmetic, basically. And now you can work with a computer, meaning you can work with mathematical tools, and see whether you can get to the word thirty from the word thirty-one. And maybe it is much easier that way. In any case, when you do it in other languages, a different world of rules opens up before you. But it is absolutely clear that there is a correlation. Meaning, if you prove it with algebraic tools, you will also arrive at the correct answer with the typographic tools, with the M, I, and U. Therefore these are really two different languages but there is a complete fit between them. That is exactly what I called a local fit, and therefore it is obvious that if, say, there were a disagreement in the arithmetic language, there would also be one in the typographic language. So the fact that there are disagreements in the revealed does not mean there won’t be the same disagreements in the hidden, and there could still be a fit.

But now I want to use this example one step further. Suppose that in the end there is some set of words that are the legal words in the language. Okay, let’s say we found them all—it is probably an infinite set, doesn’t matter—but suppose we found them all. Now I take this set of words and want to define it using a different grammar. I start, say, from the word MMMU, let’s say that is one of the legal words, and I define, say, ten completely different derivation rules—not related to those rules—which just happen to produce only legal words when applied. Completely different rules; no connection to the first ones. But what they generate—the set of words you get—is the same set of words. Two different ways of defining the same thing. There is no principled objection to such a thing, right? There’s no problem with that.

[Speaker B] So then there is a one-to-one mapping between the rules?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No. No, that’s not correct. There is no mapping between the rules. The results—exactly, that is the difference. There is a mapping in the results, not in the rules. I think that the fit between the revealed and the hidden, if such a fit exists at all, is of that kind—not a fit between the rules. And therefore where will the implication be? What we earlier called a decree of Scripture. Right? Where there is a local fit, there can never be an exception to it. Right? If the rules are parallel—typographic versus arithmetic—every word that is legal here will be legal there, and vice versa.

[Speaker B] Two languages are really the same thing, just described differently.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. Like Hebrew and English, or whatever—some kind of translation. But where the fit is global, then theoretically it can be there, but one should expect exceptions. That is, one should expect this set of rules to generate a certain set, and that set of rules to generate a set that is almost the same but maybe has two or three words that are not, or vice versa.

[Speaker B] And that is what happened.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] When you have an infinite set, I understand.

[Speaker B] Now I—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Am saying that usually that won’t be the situation. Usually the situation will be that there is a global fit in principle, but there are a few exceptions. In a local fit that cannot happen. Now how do I know that the fit between the secret and the plain meaning is of the second type and not the first? I have a proof. Rabbi Eliyahu? Maybe, but let’s say he is simply mistaken. The proof is the concept of a decree of Scripture. If there were a fit between the revealed and the hidden, then that fit would never break. That is, everything that has an explanation in the revealed would have an explanation in the hidden and vice versa. A decree of Scripture means something that has no explanation, or no full explanation, in the revealed, but apparently does have one in the hidden—otherwise why would it have been said? It has some explanation, but not an explanation in the revealed, not in the system of tools we have.

Where there is a deviation from that fit, it means the fit is not local, because in a local fit by definition there is a one-to-one correspondence in the results. Therefore—yes, you know, when I spoke about this once I brought the example of Cartesian and polar coordinates. You know, when you define a point. Now polar and Cartesian are still almost a local fit, because I can express X in terms of r and theta and Y in terms of r and theta, and vice versa. But I cannot express X by theta and Y by r; it is not trivial in that sense. And the point is that in a fit of that sort there is indeed one point at which there is no fit: the origin. At the origin, look, X equals zero and Y equals zero, but in r and theta that is a whole line—all the thetas. R equals zero and every theta.

[Speaker B] R zero and any theta.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I said—all the thetas, r equals zero and all the thetas. Meaning, it is a line, okay? So the correlation between the two descriptions breaks at a certain point. It breaks, and there topological defects appear, for those who know. That break stems only from the fact that the fit is not a local fit. In a fit like, I don’t know, a rotation or a translation—

[Speaker B] You won’t have such a thing,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because in a rotation and translation it really is something local, and therefore there will never be a break of this kind. So if I return to our matter, the claim is that the fit between the revealed and the hidden is a global fit. And the problem is that when it is a global fit, then there can indeed be places—things—where there is an explanation in the revealed but not in the hidden, or vice versa. Meaning, a decree of Scripture means there is an explanation in the hidden and no explanation in the revealed. There can also be opposite situations, where there is something the revealed says but the hidden rejects—that is the Magen Avraham—and then once again we are in some kind of conflict and must decide which prevails.

So when I speak about two planes of reference that are supposed to fit, that is a fairly general statement. What I said about Maimonides—that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse because the linguistic analysis and the purposive analysis are basically supposed to give the same results, even though we use completely different tools—here we use tools of, I don’t know, textual understanding, and there we use conceptual tools, meaning what is right to do and what is not right to do and all kinds of things of that sort, which are completely different tools. But we are supposed to reach the same results.

Now it is naïve to think that we really always reach the same results—despite all due respect to what the topic here is doing, it is obviously not true. Therefore there is no need to be surprised, as I said earlier, that in many places there are situations where we do use purposive interpretation in Jewish law despite the rule that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse. And why? Because the fit is a global fit. When the fit is a global fit, there are many places where it breaks—the topological defects.

[Speaker C] If there is a mismatch here, why don’t we go by the wording?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, I’ll get to that. I’ll have to look at every mismatch and discuss it. Okay, so I’ll bring one or two examples just to give us—give us—yes, you know what, maybe I’ll say one more sentence about the fit. You know the example of John Searle, the American philosopher—the Chinese room. In the Chinese room there sits a man, a person who speaks Hebrew, yes, and no other language. He sits in a room with two windows, input and output. Through one window, questions in Chinese come in to him, and through the other he has to answer in Chinese. He has no clue about Chinese; he knows only Hebrew, okay? He has a box full of Chinese letters, infinitely many, and they feed him questions, and every time he answers incorrectly he gets an electric shock. An ethics committee has been appointed—they give him electric shocks until slowly he starts learning to give the right answers to the questions. Machine learning. Yes. So the final state, after infinite time, when he already knows how to give the correct answers to all the questions—the question is whether he knows Chinese. Linguistically yes, purposively no, right? He has no clue; he does not know Chinese. What he knows is that for combinations like this he should answer with combination like that, and for combinations like that he should answer with another combination.

By the way, since you mentioned machine learning—many people really make this jump and say: if there are learning machines, then apparently they also have consciousness or will have consciousness. That is not so; nothing requires that. This is exactly it: machine learning gives you the efficiency of use, the relation between input and output, but it does not cross into the cognitive dimension of understanding, which is what exists in human beings.

[Speaker B] Learning is deriving rules from—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I don’t want to get into that whole topic now. I’m only saying that even in machine learning you really see this tension, and some people are not sufficiently aware of it. Now there too it is an example of the same thing, because what is he doing? He is not deriving law from the reason for the verse. The fellow sitting in the Chinese room. Right? What does he do? He receives a question formulated in Chinese and gives an answer formulated in Chinese. He has no clue what any of it means. What it says. But he knows how to match an answer to a question without it passing through his understanding. And therefore he is operating on the—let’s call it the linguistic plane, although it isn’t even linguistic, it is just technical manipulations—but let’s say he is operating on the linguistic or syntactic plane without entering semantics, meaning without entering into meaning.

[Speaker C] Meaning it’s possible—that’s a very strong assumption of his. What? If the database of questions is infinite, apparently that’s not true.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Could be. Could be. But let’s say for a finite set of questions it is true, so from my perspective that is enough to show there is a possibility of operating on the syntactic plane rather than the semantic one. Okay, so—

[Speaker B] It feels a bit artificial, doesn’t it?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He understands that very well. Or maybe he doesn’t understand—even that, by the way, one could say: he doesn’t understand. It may be that he just reacts to it. Exactly. But that does not necessarily mean it passes through his cognition. Fine. So that is another example showing that if, say, we do linguistic interpretation of the Torah, someone might say: wait a second, you’re not addressing the question of what this is trying to achieve, the purposive interpretation, the reason for the thing—how will you reach the correct result? The answer is that I will reach the correct result. Meaning, or at least there is a chance I will reach the correct result. Because many times using linguistic tools in interpreting the verse, in understanding its language, without entering into the question of what it seeks to achieve, will bring me to the correct result even without referring to the meaning of the matter or the purposive interpretation.

I’ll maybe finish with two examples where we see deviations, and that will open the next chapter, which is deviations from this rule that we do not derive law from the reason for the verse. The first thing is tooth and foot in the public domain. The Rif at the beginning of tractate Bava Kamma—because we know there are four primary categories of damages: ox, pit, maveh, and fire. Within ox there are three primary categories—three or four—there are horn, tooth, and foot. Horn, whether innocuous or forewarned, and tooth and foot. There are different laws distinguishing them. For horn, the innocuous one pays half damages; after three times, full damages. Tooth and foot are exempt in the public domain. Horn is liable in the public domain, and the forewarned one pays full damages from the outset; tooth and foot pay full damages from the first damage, but not in the public domain.

Now the Rif at the beginning of Bava Kamma writes as follows: “And tooth and foot in the public domain are exempt, because that is their normal way,” because it is their way to walk there in the public domain. So on that the Rosh brings the Rif’s words and comments: “It is puzzling to me—why did he need to explain the reason for their exemption as being because it is their normal way? For it is written, ‘and it consumes in another man’s field,’ and we interpret this as ‘in another man’s field’ and not in the public domain.” It says, “and it consumes in another man’s field,” and from here we understand: in someone else’s field, not in the public domain. So from that we derive the exemption of tooth and foot in the public domain. Why does the Rif need to give me the reason, that it is their normal way? Or in other words, the Yam Shel Shlomo formulates it more sharply: the Rif here is deriving law from the reason for the verse.

Now I’ll tell you more than that. The Rosh then says this: “And it is possible that he came to explain the reason of the verse—why the Torah exempted it in the public domain—because it is its normal way to go in the public domain, and it is impossible for the owners always to be behind them.” You can’t constantly follow your animal around; animals go in the public domain. Someone who puts fruit in the public domain should take into account that animals are walking around there. I can’t walk after my animal all the time. Don’t leave your fruit in the public domain. So the Rif is only explaining the Torah’s law that tooth and foot are exempt in the public domain. But horn is liable in the public domain even though it is its way to go there, because once it is forewarned—he knows it gores—its owner ought to guard it. Never mind. And this is also so with an innocuous horn, though that’s a bit more difficult, but let’s leave that aside; there is also a remark on that.

And there is a practical difference based on this reason—now this is surprising. I would have expected him to stop here, because if the Rif came to explain the law learned from the Torah, “in another man’s field” and not in the public domain, okay, so the Rif explained the reason; he wrote a Torah commentary. But no. The Rosh says—and the Rif himself did not say this, the Rosh says it regarding the Rif. At first the Rosh asks: why do I need a reason, since it is explicit in the Torah? Then he says: I need the reason in order to explain why the Torah says that tooth and foot are exempt in the public domain. But not “why” in the sense of understanding the verse—not as biblical commentary—but “why” in the sense of making a halakhic decision now. And that is what he says.

And then he says: “And there is a practical difference based on this reason: if there were a long piece of wood lying partly in the public domain and partly in private property, and the animal stepped on it in the public domain and it broke vessels in the private property—since it is its normal way to walk and tread there, they are exempt.” Meaning, if there were a long board, one end in the public domain and the other in private property, and the animal is walking in the public domain, steps on that board, the board moves into the private property and knocks over and breaks some vessel there—the Rosh says that according to the Rif he is exempt. Because if you read the verses as is and do not derive law from the reason for the verse—what? Then the exemption is only in the public domain; one is liable for damage in private property, not exempt there. And here the damage happened in private property, so he should be liable.

[Speaker C] Does that count as the animal’s normal way of walking? What? The animal didn’t enter.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] His claim is that the damage has to be “in another man’s field”—I’m just following him, the specific issue itself isn’t important to me right now. But according to the Rif’s explanation, that the basis of the exemption is that it is normal for it to walk in the public domain, here too it walked in the public domain in its ordinary way. What do you want—that the owner walk after it? The owner cannot constantly walk after it. So if you left some long board there, the owner isn’t supposed to trail after the animal, and therefore he is exempt. But then it really comes out that when the Rosh understands the Rif as explaining the exemption of tooth and foot in the public domain, he does not claim that the Rif is merely writing Torah commentary. Rather, he claims that the Rif is saying this as practical Jewish law—that one can derive a halakhic conclusion from it. In other words, he is deriving law from the reason for the verse.

[Speaker D] The Rosh—the Rosh infers from the Talmud that this is an example. Wait, wait, okay, not only from the Talmud—that this is, this is an example. So then already, you can see in the Talmud its definition…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But about the Talmud / Talmudic text itself, I can ask: how does the Talmud / Talmudic text do this? That’s my next example. So my next example is—really, you’re right—that it’s basically just a continuation of this example. The Talmud / Talmudic text there, at the beginning of tractate Bava Kamma, when it discusses that Mishnah about the primary categories of damages, talks about tooth and foot, and horn and pit, and all those matters. It discusses there whether their derivative cases are like them or not like them. And then the Talmud / Talmudic text starts getting into the definition of each primary category of damage. So we would have thought: the Torah says tooth and foot, so tooth and foot mean what the animal eats, or what it tramples with its foot as it walks. But the Talmud / Talmudic text says no. For example, goring, biting, crouching, and kicking are derivatives of horn. Even though goring is done with the foot—or kicking, that’s done with the foot. Goring is with the body. But kicking is with the foot. So why is that considered horn? So the Talmud / Talmudic text says that horn, tooth, and foot are conceptual primary categories of damages. They are not literally categories of damage based on the animal’s organs. So horn is damage done intentionally to cause harm, and it is unusual. Tooth and foot are things whose normal way is to go and cause damage. Okay? So there’s some kind of—there is benefit from its damaging, that’s tooth, okay, there are all kinds of characteristics of each of the primary categories of damages. So in fact, the ideas of the Rif already appear in one form or another in the Talmud / Talmudic text itself. Because the Talmud / Talmudic text itself talks about tooth and foot, and then says: since their normal way is to go and cause damage. True, in the Talmud / Talmudic text it’s less prominent, because in the Talmud / Talmudic text they are basically just explaining the concepts that appear in the Torah. The Torah has tooth and foot; now, for a moment, we interpret that as all these kinds of damages whose normal way is to go and cause damage. No, we are not directly deriving from that some halakhic ruling, even though halakhic rulings do come out of it. Various conclusions come out of it—if there are damages that are not done with the foot, if they are done in their normal way, then you would be liable for full damages from the first time, because it resembles foot and not horn. That has halakhic implications, but it is less conspicuous in the Talmud / Talmudic text. In the Rif it is more conspicuous, and that is why they discuss the Rif, because the Rif takes this and turns it into a halakhic ruling. So that whole discussion there in Bava Kamma about the definition of the primary categories of damages also really raises the question of deriving the reason for the verse. Because, for example, the Torah speaks about “if an ox gores the ox of his fellow” or “and it grazes in another’s field,” so it speaks about certain specific cases, and suddenly we turn that into these abstract damagers: whose normal way is to go and cause damage, unusual, intention to cause damage, there is benefit from its damaging, its initial making was for damage. All kinds of characteristics of that sort—which of course the Amoraim or the Tannaim are bringing with them from home. Meaning, this is basically interpretation—seemingly purposive interpretation, the reason for the verse—and the question is: how do they do that? Okay? So we’ll stop here.

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