Authority and Change in Halakha, Lesson 14
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
🔗 Link to the original lecture
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Table of Contents
- Summary of the introduction: change, authority, Torah-level and rabbinic law
- Suspension as a mechanism that is not change
- Examples and the tension between temporariness and permanence in suspensions
- The Sages uproot something from the Torah through passive omission and other enactments
- The Safed case: compromise and halakhic mechanism
- Beyond changes in Torah law: the Meiri’s example regarding gentiles
- The structure of a change argument: changed circumstances, the naturalistic fallacy, and bridge principles
- Critique of arguments and illustration through Anselm and logical lines of analysis
- The question of authority versus justification for change, and suspension as a practical solution
- The swimsuit parable: simplistic conservatism and midrashic conservatism
- Mapping arguments: Haredi, modern religious, heretic, Conservative, and Reform
- The example of tekhelet and suspension for social reasons
- Critique of the ethos of “simplistic conservatism” and the interpretation of “do not form separate factions” and local custom
- The Meiri: gentiles bounded by the ways of religion as “fully like a Jew” in interpersonal law
- The Meiri’s interpretation versus Yaakov Katz, idolatry, and practical ramifications such as violating the Sabbath to save them
- Midrashic conservatism as preservation in Torah law, and the difference in rabbinic law
- Lice on the Sabbath: factual error and its consequences
Summary
General overview
The lecture sums up the principles of change in Jewish law through Maimonides, the distinction between Torah-level and rabbinic law, and the presentation of the mechanism of “suspension” as something that is not substantive change but rather temporary non-application because of harm or problematic consequences in a certain generation. The claim is that the mechanism of suspension does not require heavy formal requirements such as a Sanhedrin or ordination, but it is limited in that it cannot be based on disagreement with an earlier religious court and must be temporary; in practice, however, it is hard to use these limits to block almost any change. The lecture then presents a central example of change in Torah law through the Meiri regarding gentiles, alongside a principled framework for “arguments for change” based on changed circumstances, criticism of the naturalistic fallacy, and the emphasis that every ruling rests on interpretation. Finally, it is argued that in Torah law, an interpretive move of the kind called “midrashic conservatism” can bypass the question of authority because it is not presented as change but as preservation of the law, whereas in rabbinic law that is not enough because of the rule that an enactment does not lapse even when its rationale lapses unless another court formally permits it.
Summary of the introduction: change, authority, Torah-level and rabbinic law
The speaker says he has finished the introduction to the principles of change in Jewish law, including the words of Maimonides, the motivations for change, the authority required to make changes, and the difference between change in Torah law and change in rabbinic law. He says the next step is to bring the conceptual map down to the ground through examples of change in Torah law, and in the next meeting to move on to changes in rabbinic law in keeping with Maimonides’ division between law 1 and law 2.
Suspension as a mechanism that is not change
The speaker defines suspension as a decision by a religious court in a certain generation not to implement a given law temporarily because it causes harm or creates a problem in that generation, without claiming that the earlier law was wrong and without disagreeing with an earlier court. He notes precisely in Maimonides that there is no special formal requirement for a court that suspends a law, and compares it to a court that administers lashes and punishments not strictly according to the formal law, so there is no need for a Sanhedrin, ordained judges, or a court greater in wisdom and number, only a recognized and accepted court of the generation. He sets out two limitations: the suspension cannot be based on disagreement over the law itself but only on non-application because of harm, and it must be temporary and contingent on the continuation of the circumstances.
Examples and the tension between temporariness and permanence in suspensions
The speaker presents blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath as an example of a far-reaching suspension, which according to the Babylonian Talmud was based on a decree lest someone carry it four cubits in the public domain, while according to the Jerusalem Talmud it is the law from the outset that one does not blow. He argues that this is a suspension made in circumstances that were not new, and in practice it has become so fixed that no one today even thinks of canceling it, even though the conceptual mechanism would allow a court to restore the law if it appeared that the concern had lapsed. He suggests that the suspension was made in a period when there was still a Sanhedrin, so the question of authority was not a problem there, but he emphasizes that the principled question is how authority works to uproot something from the Torah through passive omission, and what the source of that authority is.
The Sages uproot something from the Torah through passive omission and other enactments
The speaker addresses the question of how the Sages can uproot something from the Torah through passive omission and notes that there are even medieval authorities (Rishonim) who discuss active commission, with the shofar on the Sabbath serving as a central example. He mentions the ban of Rabbenu Gershom and distinguishes it as easier, because Rabbenu Gershom did not cancel a positive commandment but added a prohibition. He brings a responsum in the name of Rabbi Chaim Palagi according to which part of the ban did not create a new prohibition at all, but merely gathered together existing Torah prohibitions, such as deception involved in opening someone else’s letter. He gives parallel examples of decrees similar to shofar in the cases of lulav and the Megillah, and raises Prozbul as an example over which there is disagreement as to how to understand it, with Tosafot on Gittin 36 presenting it as the use of an existing mechanism of transferring debts to a religious court, as opposed to the plain sense of the Talmud, which sees it as a rabbinic enactment.
The Safed case: compromise and halakhic mechanism
The speaker defines the story of the religious court in Safed on matters of agunah status as a compromise-ruling that makes use of a claimed halakhic mechanism such as granting a bill of divorce on someone’s behalf and a condition, and he presents that granting of the divorce as a problematic and disputed mechanism whose very existence is in question. He classifies this as using an existing mechanism rather than suspension or change as such.
Beyond changes in Torah law: the Meiri’s example regarding gentiles
The speaker chooses the Meiri’s statements about gentiles as an extreme example of change in Torah-level and rabbinic laws regarding gentiles in our time, and emphasizes that this is change and not suspension. He highlights the fact that the Meiri argues this without sitting in a religious court, without any known consensus in his time, and in the fourteenth century, long after the Sanhedrin had ceased, and therefore this is an example of halakhic change within the limits that were discussed.
The structure of a change argument: changed circumstances, the naturalistic fallacy, and bridge principles
The speaker presents a typical model of an argument for change based on changed circumstances that require a normative change, and gives as an example the argument for qualifying women to testify because of changes in their status and education. He argues that such an argument, as usually stated, is not logically valid because it suffers from the naturalistic fallacy, since it tries to derive a halakhic conclusion from norms out of facts alone. He says that what is required is the addition of “bridge principles” and a central interpretive assumption that the disqualification from testimony stemmed from women’s lack of education, and he emphasizes that this assumption is not a fact but a halakhic interpretation not written in the Talmud, and therefore it is the real point of dispute.
Critique of arguments and illustration through Anselm and logical lines of analysis
The speaker says that even an argument that is logically valid is not the end of the road, because one can still dispute its premises or the meaning of its conclusion, and he illustrates this through Anselm of Canterbury’s ontological proof for the existence of God. He emphasizes that presenting an argument in full is only the beginning of the discussion, not its resolution, and that a central defect in public debates is the hiding of interpretive premises in order to create the impression that the conclusion is compelled.
The question of authority versus justification for change, and suspension as a practical solution
The speaker argues that it is important to clarify the justification for change even when there is no formal authority to change, because if the ancient law causes harm one can use the mechanism of suspension instead of change. He emphasizes that in agunah cases women’s testimony is accepted by force of the Talmud, and one witness is believed in matters of prohibition, and that in monetary law it is sometimes possible to accept otherwise invalid witnesses by force of public acceptance and the power to declare property ownerless. He distinguishes criminal law and areas that are uncommon or do not involve financial loss, where the practical halakhic system is limited, and mentions the law of the king as a path for punishment not according to strict law that can bypass evidentiary problems but does not change the formal rules of testimony within an ordinary religious court.
The swimsuit parable: simplistic conservatism and midrashic conservatism
The speaker brings a parable about people walking in the desert in swimsuits who arrive in a snowy land, and presents a dispute between those who remain in swimsuits in the name of tradition and those who put on parkas out of the claim that the original principle is appropriate clothing for the weather. He says the dispute is not only about the act but about the interpretation of the principle being preserved, and that both sides can be conservative, with one being a “simplistic conservative” and the other a “midrashic conservative.” He emphasizes that every decision presupposes interpretation, and that even refusal to change hides an opposing interpretation, and he illustrates this through examples of continuing number series in Wittgenstein and Kripke as a way of showing that “natural” continuation is always the product of an interpretive rule.
Mapping arguments: Haredi, modern religious, heretic, Conservative, and Reform
The speaker proposes a classification of arguments rather than people, and warns that sociological classification does not overlap with logical classification and that only partial overlap can be found. He identifies the simplistic conservative as a “Haredi” type, the midrashic conservative as a “modern religious” type, and one who is not committed to the system as a “heretic,” and adds that in his view the Conservative position resembles midrashic conservatism in varying degrees. He defines the Reform argument as commitment to tradition that is not absolute, in which there is a limit to the price one is willing to pay in order to preserve the rules, and distinguishes between an interpretive claim in the style of “the Sages today would have done this” and rejection of the system in the name of external considerations.
The example of tekhelet and suspension for social reasons
The speaker describes a conversation in Bnei Brak in which rejection of tekhelet was explained as “an invention of the knitted-kippah crowd,” and criticizes this as a sociological decision instead of a substantive discussion. He cites Rabbi Shafran as saying that people do not wear tekhelet in order to create a fence against innovators, and defines this as a classic example of suspending a Torah-level positive commandment on grounds of harm or policy. He points to inconsistency when people claim there is no authority to establish days such as Holocaust Remembrance Day or Independence Day, yet they do suspend tekhelet, and presents the establishment of a day of thanksgiving as something that is not a prohibition and may even be supported by analogies to Hanukkah and Purim.
Critique of the ethos of “simplistic conservatism” and the interpretation of “do not form separate factions” and local custom
The speaker argues that in practice there is no real “simplistic conservatism” among Haredim, and that everyone makes interpretations and changes, both stringently and leniently, but sometimes lives within an ethos of absolute continuity. He brings up the topic of “do not form separate factions” and argues that the modern multiplicity of religious courts and communities requires a far-reaching interpretation of “city” as an ethnic or social city rather than a geographical one. He explains the shift from local custom to ethnic custom through social dynamism and migration, and cites a sociological analysis in the name of Friedman regarding the acceptance of the Chazon Ish’s teachings in Bnei Brak as opposed to Jerusalem, due to the difference between a city of immigrants and an older community with stable family custom.
The Meiri: gentiles bounded by the ways of religion as “fully like a Jew” in interpersonal law
The speaker quotes the Meiri as ruling that even idol worshippers who are not bounded by the ways of religion may not be robbed and one may not nullify what they are owed, but there is no obligation to return a lost object or a mistaken overpayment that happened on its own, while once the matter becomes known there is an obligation to restore it, and there is an obligation to return it on account of desecration of God’s name. He quotes the Meiri’s statement that nations bounded by the ways of religion and worshippers of God, even though their faith is far from ours, are not included in those distinctions, but rather their status is fully like that of a Jew regarding lost objects, mistaken payments, and all other such matters, without distinction. He emphasizes that there are dozens of places where the Meiri repeats the principle that gentiles “bounded by the civilized norms of the nations” are not distinguished from Jews in interpersonal law.
The Meiri’s interpretation versus Yaakov Katz, idolatry, and practical ramifications such as violating the Sabbath to save them
The speaker presents the common understanding that attributes to the Meiri the claim that Christians are not idol worshippers, and cites Yaakov Katz’s difficulty: if so, why does the Meiri not permit Christian ritual objects? He points to another difficulty in relation to Maimonides, who explicitly says that they are idol worshippers, and argues that the Meiri does not permit a church and does not permit ritual objects, but rather sees them as enlightened idol worshippers, and therefore the prohibitions of idolatry remain intact. He argues that the Meiri’s real innovation is the application of interpersonal obligations to moral and “bounded” gentiles, and gives as an example that the Meiri permits violating the Sabbath through a Torah-level prohibition in order to save their lives, against the Talmud, not merely for “the ways of peace” but as an understanding of the meaning of the Sages’ words in the reality of his own time.
Midrashic conservatism as preservation in Torah law, and the difference in rabbinic law
The speaker explains that an interpretive argument like the Meiri’s is presented as preserving Jewish law and not as changing it, and therefore the question of authority does not arise, because the claim is that this is what the Sages meant given the reality of the generation, and that one who does not act this way is the one violating the law. He says that in Torah law such interpretation is not considered normative change but correct application of the ancient instruction, whereas in rabbinic law, even if the rationale has lapsed, the enactment does not lapse without another quorum that permits it, and therefore circumstantial interpretation is not enough there. He concludes that the next meeting will deal with changes in rabbinic law.
Lice on the Sabbath: factual error and its consequences
The speaker raises the case of lice on the Sabbath as an extreme example in which the permission in the Talmud is based on the assumption that lice arise from decay and not from male and female reproduction, whereas today it is known that they reproduce in the normal animal way. He notes that many halakhic decisors still permit killing a louse on the Sabbath, some because the Sages cannot be mistaken in science and some because of the question of authority to change, but he argues that the prohibition today follows from the fact that the factual data on which the ruling was built were mistaken. He presents this as a change in the factual substrate rather than normative change, and argues that there is no need for a religious court in order to determine that a ruling established on the basis of factual error is void, and even presents a stringent practical implication to the point of defining one who kills a louse as a Sabbath violator.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, today’s lecture is on Jewish law, and basically I’ve more or less finished—finished the introduction. Meaning, the principles of change. We saw the words of Maimonides, we were there with change, we talked about the motivations for change, we talked about the authority required in order to change, about the difference between Torah-level law and rabbinic law. And we talked about mechanisms that are not change, like suspension. Which basically means that a religious court in a certain generation decides that some law has to be suspended. At least temporarily—not at least, it has to be temporary. That’s not change in the substantive sense, because they’re not disagreeing with an earlier court. They’re not claiming that some law is incorrect. They’re saying that in this generation it isn’t right to implement it. There is some harm that it causes, or all kinds of things of that sort, and then they can suspend that law. I noted precisely in Maimonides that no formal requirement is demanded of such a court. Meaning, the Great Court certainly does not have to be greater in wisdom and number; it has to be the court of that generation. Maimonides compares this to a court that administers lashes and punishments not according to the strict law. And therefore this is a mechanism that, on the one hand, is very broad, because it basically opens the door to doing everything—and for everyone, not for everyone, but there are no formal requirements. It has to be a recognized court, obviously, accepted in the relevant generation, but there do not have to be any formal requirements. You don’t need the Sanhedrin, you don’t need ordained judges, you don’t need anything like that. But on the other hand there are two limitations. First, this is an act that is not based on disagreement with the previous law; it’s not changing the law but suspending it as a result of the harm it causes or the problematic consequences it creates in this generation. Meaning, this court cannot disagree with an earlier Sanhedrin, but it can say: okay, I’m not disagreeing with you, but in this generation there’s no other authority—we’re the only ones here—and therefore only we can make the decisions regarding this issue. And the second limitation is that it has to be temporary. Meaning, it depends on the existence of those circumstances in which the law causes harm, because you’re not really changing it—that’s truly the meaning of the thing. As I said, practically speaking it is very hard, let’s say very hard, to block almost any change made through these two limitations. Because in the end many of the changes—almost every change we can think of—isn’t because I happen to disagree with some ruling from the Mishnah or the Talmud, but because it creates some problem for me today. Overall that’s the usual situation. And temporariness too, as I said—nothing is more permanent than the temporary. Meaning, a lot of temporary things—yes, they enacted that one should not blow the shofar on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath, which is a very far-reaching suspension. Lest one go to an expert and learn. That’s a very far-reaching suspension, because there was some concern about violating the Sabbath—something you might transgress—when that concern, in principle, does not seem, at least, to have arisen because of some suddenly new circumstances. In principle, I assume that was already the situation in the days of Moses our teacher. It’s not that something new arose and the court saw, okay, we have to do something, there’s no choice. Rather, the court basically made a very significant halakhic change here, canceled a Torah-level positive commandment, when the circumstances are not new. It just identified some halakhic problem, and that problem always existed. Why didn’t they do this before? If they didn’t do it—maybe they did in the days of Moses, I don’t know. But in that sense there is a change here that is very dramatic on the one hand, and on the other hand it is permanent. Nobody today would dream of restoring the blowing on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath, according to the Babylonian Talmud’s view that it is because of the concern lest one carry it four cubits in the public domain, because according to the Jerusalem Talmud it is the law from the outset that on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath we do not blow. But according to the Babylonian Talmud, and that’s how it is generally understood in Jewish law, this is a rabbinic decree lest one carry it four cubits in the public domain. Who is needed in order to cancel the suspension? What?
[Speaker B] Who is needed in order to cancel the suspension?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying—nobody, nothing. There’s no limitation at all. Today. Today a religious court could say: okay, it seems to us that today there is no longer this concern, that someone will go and carry it four cubits in the public domain, and therefore this lapses. No—more than that. If any religious court can suspend a Torah-level law, then certainly it can validate ending the suspension. After all, all we’re doing is restoring the law to what we are supposed to do. That is the Torah law; that is what the Torah wants us to do. The Sages saw some problem, and fine, they had authority, they decided to suspend it. But to end the suspension and restore the law—that is simply to fulfill a Torah-level law.
[Speaker B] How do you end a suspension? What, the court has to sit and decide?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] How did they accept this suspension? I don’t know.
[Speaker B] Do we know when?
[Speaker C] There has to
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] be some kind of consensus among the Sages of the relevant generation saying that today this is no longer relevant.
[Speaker B] And does it sound reasonable that because of such a small concern you suspend—you make a suspension? I mean, if it were a life-and-death matter, or something where the generation had really become corrupt or something, that would make sense. This sounds like something—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s a concern about a Torah prohibition, a prohibition of labor on the Sabbath, a prohibition of carrying. When did this happen? What? When did it happen? It’s already in the Mishnah. Where did it start? That’s why I say—that was going to be my third comment. That change was apparently made in a period when—there still was a Sanhedrin. Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai was in the period of the destruction, okay? There we’re talking about something that was still during the time when—after all, the Mishnah says that in the Temple they would blow, but in the rest of the country they would not. So we’re talking about the Temple period. The Temple period means there was still an existing Sanhedrin in Jerusalem, even before the exile to Usha and Yavne and so on. So in that sense, let’s say, questions of authority weren’t a problem for them. There wasn’t a fundamental problem of authority. I’m talking about a suspension that any religious court in any generation can do. There, in that sense, it wasn’t like that. But on the other hand, what they did there was after all just a suspension. That the Sages uproot something from the Torah through passive omission. In fact, just today someone asked me—I sent you a copy—someone asked me about the Sages uprooting something from the Torah through passive omission: how can they do such a thing? There are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who even talk about active commission, but the Talmud says that they can uproot something from the Torah through passive omission. And blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath is a good example of that. By what authority do they do it there? There’s no source for it, at least none that I know of.
[Speaker D] The ban of Rabbenu Gershom also falls into—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The ban of Rabbenu Gershom is easier, because Rabbenu Gershom did not cancel a positive commandment; he added a prohibition. For example, marrying a second wife or opening a letter. Rabbi Chaim Palagi has a responsum where he explains that the ban of Rabbenu Gershom didn’t even add a prohibition at all. Everything he prohibited, he says, was already prohibited before under Torah prohibitions. He argues that opening a letter is a Torah prohibition of deception.
[Speaker C] And marrying a second wife?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, deception—not everything he did, right, only some of what he did. But he packaged it into a ban because apparently he saw that the time required it. Maybe he didn’t even innovate the prohibition itself. In some places, yes. In any case, he didn’t prevent us from fulfilling a Torah commandment, and he didn’t tell us to violate a Torah prohibition, so that wasn’t the issue there.
[Speaker C] Are there examples of suspension in a lenient direction, where they really came and said this and that? Blowing on Rosh Hashanah that falls on the Sabbath—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, besides that?
[Speaker C] Throughout history.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Lulav, Megillah, all of them. The Talmud says the same applies to lulav, the same applies to the Megillah, like the shofar. What about Prozbul? Because of the concern lest one carry it four cubits in the public domain. Prozbul? That’s a major question. Tosafot on Gittin 36 says that Prozbul is using an already existing mechanism of handing over one’s debts to a religious court. But the straightforward reading of the Talmud is not like that; the straightforward reading is that Prozbul is a rabbinic enactment. I don’t know. Yes, there are examples of these things. But as I say, when this is done, say, in the period of the Mishnah, then the Sanhedrin did it, and since it had the authority to change, it’s hard to criticize it for using its authority to suspend beyond what I would do, because it can also change. But I’m talking about a court today, or halakhic decisors today—they too can in principle do this. In Maimonides there is no limitation on this matter at all. Unlike the laws of change, where he discusses who can and cannot make a change, in the law of suspension nothing is mentioned, there is no limitation at all.
[Speaker C] Into what framework do you place what you told us about that woman they didn’t want to release from her agunah status because the husband was in a coma or something like that, so they brought in the issue of a condition—that the condition of the marriage was that he would be able to live with her, and if not, then the betrothal is void retroactively?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, they did that there, and by granting the divorce on his behalf—there was a complicated story there. No, there that is a ruling—there it’s a compromise. It’s use of a halakhic mechanism that they claim exists, and there is major debate whether granting a bill of divorce on someone’s behalf is really something possible. I think it’s a problematic mechanism, if it exists at all. And that’s what they claimed there in the religious court in Safed. Okay, so overall that’s the basic map of changes in Jewish law, but now let’s try to bring it down to the ground. So what I want to do today is talk about changes in Torah law. And next time—we have one more meeting before Sukkot, between Yom Kippur and Sukkot—there I’ll talk about changes in rabbinic law. Okay? Because changes in Torah law are Maimonides’ law 1, changes in rabbinic law are Maimonides’ law 2. I want to show how this whole business—how this whole business is actually carried out in practice. All right, so I’m going to take as an example the Meiri’s statements about gentiles. A very well-known and famous thesis of the Meiri—I think I’ve already spoken about it here in the past—that claims that many Torah-level laws and also rabbinic laws regarding gentiles are void in our time. Which is perhaps the most extreme example I know of changing Torah laws, and I want to sharpen the point that we are not talking about suspension, we’re talking about change. And we’re talking about a change that the Meiri argues for without sitting in a religious court, without there having been any consensus, as far as is known, in his time. We don’t know of people who agreed with him, disagreed with him; there doesn’t seem to have been any consensus there. And of course we’re talking about the fourteenth century, long after there was no longer a Sanhedrin and no Great Court and nothing of the sort. And in that sense this is a classic example of change in Jewish law within the limitations we discussed. The fact that changes can be made even within the limitations we discussed. So here I want to spell out that example a bit more, and I’ll use it to illustrate more clearly how this whole thing is done. Basically, the typical claim for change in Jewish law is built—I don’t remember whether at the end of last time I already talked about this—the typical claim for change in Jewish law basically speaks about a change in circumstances that requires a normative change, a halakhic change. Meaning, qualifying women as witnesses, for example—I think that’s an example I mentioned—so people say that in the past women were uneducated, or not involved in economic affairs in the marketplace and in the business world, and therefore they weren’t so familiar with all kinds of things, whatever; and therefore they were disqualified from testimony. Today women are different, they’ve changed, and therefore the claim is that maybe one should, one can, one ought to qualify women as witnesses. By the way, if one can, then one ought to—I don’t think there’s really such a thing as “can but maybe not ought,” but maybe I’ll have to talk about that too sometime. So then do you need to convene a session to permit it, to reach a consensus? I don’t think so. Again, you’re already taking me back to the question of authority. Let’s talk for the moment only about the considerations. Let’s assume there is a Sanhedrin, okay? Afterward we’ll talk about the question of authority.
[Speaker B] But the Sanhedrin would need to decide it, no?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, if there is a Sanhedrin it’s simple; they convene because there is an institution. Today, when there is no Sanhedrin, the problem is that even if I decide that there has to be a session—whose session? There is no institution that can convene. In the period of the Sanhedrin it was pretty simple that this was supposed to be accepted as some decision of a sitting of the Sanhedrin on the matter. That’s easy. What happens today? That’s more complicated. What, the Sages of the generation have to gather and sit? Or is it enough that some consensus emerges? And education in general? Why specifically the Sages of the generation—how can our emissaries do this? We’re not talking about suspension, we’re talking about change. And change is not that—it requires requirements. What kind of court can make a change? Fine, so we’ll get to the question of change later, and to the question of authority, sorry. So the requirements, the motivations or considerations for making changes generally begin with changed circumstances. Meaning, reality changed, and therefore the feeling is that the law has to be changed. So there’s a point here—I think I spoke about it last time, I don’t remember exactly how far I got. I’ll do it briefly just to complete the picture. Basically the claim is: yes, women in the past were uneducated, let’s put it briefly; therefore they were disqualified from testimony. Today women are educated; therefore they should be qualified as witnesses. The argument as stated is an invalid argument. That argument is not logically valid. Its conclusion does not follow from its premises, because it suffers from the naturalistic fallacy. Meaning, its premises are factual premises and its conclusion is a halakhic normative conclusion. The factual premises are that women in the past were uneducated, not involved in market life or business, and women today are. Those are two facts that are hard to dispute. I mean, I think there would be broad agreement about those two facts. But how can you derive Jewish law from facts? Meaning, there is a naturalistic fallacy that says you cannot derive a non-factual claim from facts alone—aesthetic judgment, ethical judgment, a norm, a legal norm or a moral norm—from facts alone. I can’t say: this wall is white, therefore this wall is beautiful.
[Speaker D] Killing a louse on the Sabbath. Killing a louse—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] On the Sabbath, there too, there too—
[Speaker D] There too it has to be discussed.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Maybe, maybe remind me of that in a moment after I finish the discussion here. Suppose I say this wall is white and therefore this wall is beautiful. The argument is invalid. You have to assume that white is beautiful in order to complete the argument. Obviously that’s what people mean when they say such things. When I say this wall is white and therefore it’s beautiful, I’m simply not being logically precise, I’m not putting everything on the table, but what I really mean is of course a different argument. An argument that says: this wall is white; that which is white is beautiful; therefore this wall is beautiful. That is a valid argument. But this is an important point, because the shortcut I took hid behind it an assumption that is crucial in the argument, the non-factual assumption. Meaning, there is a factual assumption here—this wall is white—anyone can look and see.
[Speaker B] But the claim that what is white is beautiful—exactly—that claim that what is white is beautiful is not a simple claim.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s a claim that basically contains some judgment—in this case an aesthetic judgment, meaning some sort of evaluation. On that, certainly not everyone will necessarily agree with me, unlike the facts. Everyone who looks will say that this wall is white, but not everyone will necessarily say that what is white is beautiful. And therefore when we skip over that additional assumption, very often we either make a mistake or do it intentionally. We want to convince someone—after all, you agree with the facts, right? So that means the conclusion is such-and-such. You don’t put on the table the fact that another assumption is needed here, one that can itself arouse disagreement and would even be expected to arouse disagreement.
[Speaker C] But the disqualification of women from testimony has a factual rationale, doesn’t it? No?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It can’t be only factual.
[Speaker C] No. The fact is the background.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I’ll explain. Now I’m coming back to the disqualification of women. When you want to argue in favor of qualifying women as witnesses, what you need to say is an argument like this: you need to say that women in the past were uneducated—that’s a general label for everything I said before—and that women today are educated. Those are two factual assumptions that I assume everyone will agree about. That’s not enough. What you still need to add is that the disqualification from testimony was because they were uneducated. Correct. But that assumption is not a fact; it is an interpretation—halakhic interpretation, in this case. Who says the Sages disqualified them because of that? It doesn’t appear in the Talmud. The Talmud does not say it was because of that. In the Talmud there is “and the two men who have the dispute shall stand before the Lord”—men, and not women. That’s it. Now explain it however you want—I don’t know if there is any explanation at all. So you are proposing an interpretation. In itself, interpretation is fine; one is allowed to interpret. But put it on the table. Why? So again I say: sometimes this is done in good faith, sometimes it’s done intentionally. Because it’s clear that when you argue about whether women should be qualified as witnesses today, the argument is on this point. The argument is not on the point that women in the past were uneducated and not—
[Speaker C] On the point that women today are educated, yes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Rather, what is the reason for the disqualification? The dispute is over whether the disqualification has to do with women’s level of education, or whether it is something more essential that cannot be changed. And you can argue about that—you can say yes, you can say no—but that is the real point of dispute. And therefore, when you don’t put that on the table, maybe you hope it will look obvious—who could disagree, what, you don’t agree that women today are not the women of the past? Yes—
[Speaker C] I agree.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what?
[Speaker C] But that still doesn’t mean they need to be qualified as witnesses. You have to find a rationale for the disqualification; you can’t say—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why do I have to?
[Speaker C] It says in the Talmud that they are disqualified, and I am committed to what is written in the Talmud.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If I knew the reason, it’s not that I’m hiding it. If I knew the reason I’d tell you. True, I don’t know—maybe there is such a reason, another reason, or maybe I just don’t know. Already in the Talmud and in the Mishnah people engage in interpretation. What I said is: put on the table that what you’re doing here is interpretation.
[Speaker C] And now if that interpretation is accepted as reasonable, then there’s no problem.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then the argument is completely valid, right? Then the argument is valid. I’m only saying that when you raise that argument, you have to put that on the table. Meaning that there is another assumption here that always has to appear. Notice, always. And usually you won’t find it. Usually you won’t find it. And usually people look at you as if you’re benighted, closing your eyes, not normal, not understanding that the people of today aren’t the people of the past. Yes, I do understand that. Next. Who said that is the reason they were disqualified and now can be qualified? You are proposing an interpretation. Okay, let’s examine that. Let’s examine the interpretation—maybe we can look at the passages, we can look at the medieval authorities (Rishonim), the later authorities (Acharonim), how they understood it, why women were disqualified, why women were not disqualified. Whether there are hints one way or another. It’s hard to get a clear answer of that kind from the passages, but okay, you can start examining it. Again, I’m not rejecting the argument for change. I’m only saying that when you want to discuss it, you have to present it in full. Basically an argument for change has to be built in the form of factual premises, bridge principles—that is, principles that connect the facts with the norm, aesthetic judgment, ethical judgment, halakhic judgment, legal judgment, whatever it may be—and a conclusion, where the conclusion is usually a norm, meaning a proposal of a new norm or something like that. Okay? So now we have a complete argument. And now we can start discussing it. Now, an argument can of course be criticized in several ways. Assuming the logical argument is valid, after we complete all the premises and the argument is valid, even then, when the argument is valid, that still doesn’t mean one must accept the conclusion, because we have to check whether I agree with its premises. We have to check whether the result really is what the person presenting the argument says it is. You don’t always notice that the argument doesn’t really lead where you want it to lead. There is—right now I actually wrote something on this, so it’s fresh for me—on the ontological proof for the existence of God. So Anselm, the Christian from Canterbury, presented an argument that proves the existence of God. Let’s assume that argument is valid. After completing all the assumptions, which don’t always all appear there, that argument is valid. That still doesn’t mean I must accept its conclusion, because if I criticize its premises, then I no longer have to accept the conclusion. If the argument is invalid, again, then even if I accept the premises I don’t have to accept the conclusion. And even if I agree with the premises and the argument is valid, one still has to check very carefully whether its result is what Anselm thinks it is. And there were objections on that too. Meaning, your argument is valid, I also agree with the premises, but what you proved is not what you say you proved. Look carefully at what the conclusion of the argument really is, and it is not what you say. There is that too sometimes. So a logical argument sounds very forceful and very strong, but it too is not the end of the road. It’s only the beginning. When you want to present an argument properly, present it properly. And now let’s begin discussing it. That is the start of the discussion, not the end of the road, when one presents a logical argument.
[Speaker C] Has there already been a discussion like that about something like women’s testimony, for example?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not familiar with one. No. I don’t know of anyone who did something systematic like that. I once thought long ago of doing something like that, because I have a few directions. It’s a bit hard to get something conclusive out of it. The problem is the bridge principles. Meaning, the problem is how you can show that the disqualification of women really stemmed from the fact that they were uneducated, or whatever it was about women in the past that is no longer true today.
[Speaker B] What about the question of authority?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The question of authority—that’s another question. But first I want to understand whether there is justification for the change itself. Let’s assume there is a Sanhedrin. What about the question of authority? I’ll touch on it later. Maybe I’ll say it already now, because I already said it in previous sessions as well. It’s very important to discuss the justification for the change even if I don’t have authority. Why? Because assuming that this change—that the ancient law—also causes harm, as in the case of women, then I can use the mechanism of suspension. Meaning, if I’m convinced that this thing is right, then true, I have a formal problem of authority, but I know it’s right. So what? So I’ll use the mechanism of suspension. Now obviously I can’t use the mechanism of suspension for something that I just know is right, full stop. No—you can’t use suspension for that, because the meaning is that you have to be a Sanhedrin in order to change the law. You cannot disagree with the earlier Sanhedrin if you yourself are not a Sanhedrin. But what I can do is this: if the earlier law, as it had been accepted—then the fact that this is also correct will strengthen even more my ability and my justification for using the mechanism of suspension. So I’m not changing the law; I’m determining that for now I am suspending the disqualification of women from testimony. All the Sages of the next generation will decide afterward about the next generation. That’s what temporary means.
[Speaker B] But the mechanism of the Meiri didn’t even need freezing; he simply said that this is the interpretation of what the Sages meant.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait, I haven’t gotten to the Meiri yet. We’ll get to the Meiri, but I’m only saying here regarding women’s testimony that even if we say that I’ll reach the conclusion that I have no authority, it’s still very important to hold the discussion about the change itself. That’s not right—many times people use the lack of authority in order to avoid discussing the change.
[Speaker B] In practice, a religious court today—today, basically, a religious court won’t accept women as witnesses. Meaning, in order to prove that a woman is an agunah, they’ll accept women as witnesses?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the laws of an agunah—that’s in the Talmud, it’s well known.
[Speaker B] One—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One witness is believed in matters of prohibition, so a woman is also believed—even her mother, even a relative of hers, a female relative, whatever you want.
[Speaker B] And in tort law now, a religious court won’t—
[Speaker D] Use them?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In tort law, again, that’s monetary law. Again, in monetary law it’s easier.
[Speaker B] In—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In monetary law you can declare property ownerless, and then under at least certain circumstances, the community can decide that in monetary cases it accepts upon itself—”I accept this for myself”—it accepts the testimony of disqualified witnesses. The problem is in criminal law, or in places where a woman comes to testify about murder or to testify about Sabbath desecration.
[Speaker B] Right now that’s not interesting; right now it doesn’t interfere in the current practical reality.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] True, but on the principled level?
[Speaker B] There’s no need to use freezing.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because it doesn’t interfere. But if it did interfere, there would be a freezing mechanism. If we now had the ability—if we were given the authority—to run all affairs of the state, and there were no others pulling our chestnuts out of the fire, what would we do? We can’t judge capital cases, we can’t judge anything on the criminal plane. We judge monetary cases, and even that only in matters that are common and involve financial loss, which also doesn’t cover everything, and that’s about it.
[Speaker B] So basically the whole Torah legal procedure is crooked, practically speaking, because the prior warning that’s required and all the inquiries and examinations—those things aren’t…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, but we spoke about the law of the king, which in the end moves over to extra-legal punishment, even in a religious court.
[Speaker B] Can the law of the king make up for the lack regarding women?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, right, exactly.
[Speaker B] I mean, I’m saying, freezing in practice doesn’t really need anything. The law of the king is currently more necessary than freezing.
[Speaker D] No, what do you mean?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But the law of the king won’t accept women’s testimony in a case being heard by a religious court. A religious court sits to judge someone who desecrated the Sabbath—then the law of the king won’t force the religious court to accept women as witnesses. That’s a law carried out within the framework of halakhic law. The law of the king, when it judges that woman for the fact that she murdered—say, for example, in a murder case—then perhaps yes, it will accept testimony, not from a woman but from a man, no matter, it will accept a woman’s testimony and execute the murderer. It can do that, that’s clear. So the claim is that in fact it’s important to have the discussion about change even if in the end we reach the conclusion that we have no authority. Therefore this is an important point, because many times people stop this discussion before it even begins: what difference does it make, we have no authority, who are we to discuss this, and it’s irrelevant. Now I want to look at the same thing from a different angle. I’ll bring a parable for this that I heard from a friend—not necessarily a religious one. We once spoke about various matters of this sort, and he said—he gave me the following parable. I assume some of you have heard it from me; Shmuel, I know you heard it in the lecture on swimsuits. I was surprised to hear from you that you hadn’t heard it here, because I was sure I’d said it many times already.
[Speaker B] My memory isn’t great.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, okay. In any case, it’s a group of people walking through the desert in swimsuits. And for generations their ancestors also walked that way, and they have a tradition in hand to walk through the desert in swimsuits. At some point they reach a cold region, and the desert starts to end for them. Forty years have passed; they’ve arrived in a snowy land.
[Speaker D] What do they do?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So here one group among these people gets up: friends, until now it was fine, from now on I’m cold. I’m putting on a parka. So—
[Speaker D] Opposing them arise—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The conservatives.
[Speaker C] The ones committed to tradition—what do you mean?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The tradition of our ancestors is to walk in swimsuits. And they’ll say: right, but we’re cold. So which of these two is the conservative, and which is the innovator? Here the answer is pretty simple. Here those who put on parkas are the innovators, and those who want to keep walking in swimsuits are the conservatives. But this picture isn’t so simple. Because some of those who want to switch to a parka can come and give a different answer as to why they are switching, why they want to switch—not because, not only because it’s cold, but to say that our ancestors didn’t tell us to walk in swimsuits; they told us to wear clothing appropriate to the weather. It just happened that the weather was hot, so the clothing appropriate to the weather in their time was a swimsuit. But now that it’s cold, then to wear clothing appropriate to the weather means wearing a parka. Now, when people make that claim, and in response others say, what are you talking about, we need to keep walking in swimsuits as the tradition of our ancestors—it doesn’t exactly reverse, but it changes. In other words, the question of who is the conservative here and who is the innovator, who is the reformer, yes?—it’s not clear. On the face of it, both are conservatives. The question—the dispute—is over what they are conserving. Is the principle we are conserving that one must wear a swimsuit in every situation—that’s the claim of the conservatives—or is the principle we are conserving—and again conserving with devotion, we are great conservatives—that one must wear clothing appropriate to the weather?
[Speaker C] But the very fact that they’re willing to give an interpretation to the swimsuit story—that’s all interpretation.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? All of that is interpretation.
[Speaker C] No, but to come and say that this was the intention behind the swimsuits—that itself is the innovation.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why is that innovation?
[Speaker C] Because for years and years they’ve been walking in swimsuits and you never asked why, really.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They said you need to because it was hot.
[Speaker C] Fine, but the one who says—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s an important point. The one who says we need to keep walking in swimsuits is also giving an interpretation. Because if I’m right that the principle is that one must wear clothing appropriate to the weather, then you are a transgressor. When you keep walking in a swimsuit even though it’s cold, you are a transgressor, if I’m right. Right? So you are claiming that my interpretation is incorrect, and apparently there is another interpretation. You’re not offering it, never mind—but then in effect you too are assuming some interpretation. Every decision assumes some interpretation. This is one of the great failures in these discussions about changes in Jewish law. Some people say: you are proposing an interpretation, so the burden of proof is on you. And you’re not proposing an interpretation? The fact that you say we shouldn’t change conceals behind it an interpretation in the opposite direction. I propose a sensible interpretation; you claim maybe there is another interpretation and don’t offer it at all. So what? Is that more sensible? There’s no decision without interpretation, because you can’t interpret a rule without having—this was once Wittgenstein, I think. Wittgenstein has some passage in Philosophical Investigations where he talks about following a rule, late Wittgenstein. Following a rule. So he says, yes, those psychometric test completions: one, two, three, four, five, dot dot dot—what comes next? Six. Six, right? And someone says, what are you talking about?
[Speaker D] Negative seven to the one-third, or pi, yes, a function—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] i plus one, whatever you want, in short, all kinds of imaginary numbers. Why? Because you can always fit a function such that when n equals one it gives one, n equals two it gives two, three, four, five, and then minus pi. No problem, I can construct such functions; it’s not hard to construct them. So who said the right answer is six? That’s a question of interpretation. They give you some examples, and in order to continue that example it seems self-evident to you. But it isn’t self-evident; you are assuming a rule. Very often you don’t even know how to write the function explicitly for me. And then here’s a nice example I once saw in Saul Kripke, I think. Three, five, seven, dot dot dot. Eleven. Why?
[Speaker D] Because they’re primes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It could be nine, right? Nine is odd. But eleven is prime. So who’s right? Nobody is right; it’s a question of interpretation. In other words, behind it—when you want to continue some series, like walking in a swimsuit, it’s really the same idea—when you continue some series, even if you continue it in what seems to you a natural way, you’ve made an interpretation. Maybe you weren’t aware of it, but you’ve always made an interpretation. And sometimes you may not be aware of the interpretation and not know what interpretive rule you acted on, but in fact you acted. But I’m saying that assuming there is some rationale behind this, then if that rationale does not now obtain, if you keep walking in a swimsuit you are a transgressor. Because if the truth is that one must wear clothing appropriate to the weather, then whoever continues to walk in a swimsuit when it’s cold is a transgressor. By what authority does he do that? Because he is assuming some kind of interpretation. Fine—so he too is assuming an interpretation, and I too am assuming an interpretation. But true, it’s some kind of—let’s call it—naivete. But in the end there is some natural feeling for what counts as the natural continuation and what is a trick, what is something that requires some interpretation. Wittgenstein makes a whole big dish out of this, yes—he basically argues that all our rules are built in such a way that this is the natural way we continue them, and there’s no point in reasoning it out and explaining it; it’s just like that. And you can try to understand him; it doesn’t matter. In any case, the claim is that in the second dispute I described, between those who want to switch to a parka because they interpret differently the rule we received from our ancestors, and those who want to continue with a swimsuit, that is a dispute between two conservative camps. Both of them, both of them are conservative. Only one is what I’ll call a plain conservative, and one is a midrashic conservative. A plain conservative, just so we can refer to it, is a conservative who takes the plain meaning. They said to wear a swimsuit, so I continue with a swimsuit. I don’t make midrashim, no, I don’t interpret—I call it midrash, never mind—some type of interpretation of the rule we received. The midrashic conservative is also a conservative, but what is he conserving? He is conserving the rule after it has undergone some midrashic process. That is, he gives it an interpretation, and now he genuinely and sincerely conserves it, because he truly thinks this is what his ancestors did and this is what they asked of him. Again, I’m not belittling this and not claiming—there’s a certain tendency we have, a kind of criminal mindset. In other words, somehow you ended up concluding that when it’s cold you wear a parka, which is very convenient, right? So that interpretation looks biased to us. In other words, they are more straightforward; they are willing to pay a price, to walk around in a swimsuit despite the cold. You are doing what’s convenient. Leave aside the criminal mindset for a moment. On the logical level, both can be right. The question is who is right on the level of the correct interpretation. This is the instinct of “too good to be kosher,” so to speak. If it’s convenient, it can’t be right. I don’t agree with that. Something convenient can be right. I agree that one should treat with caution interpretations that produce a convenient result. Look carefully to see whether you’re doing it honestly or whether you are in fact subordinating your interpretation to what you want. I agree. But after I’ve done the checks I found it proper to do, in the end there are two interpretations here and we need to decide which of them is correct.
[Speaker C] And in the dispute between these two conservatives—and this is the thesis—what, who would actually be the liberal? What would the liberal say here?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The liberal isn’t even in the arena here. Liberalism is a worldview; it’s not a question of change. I’m talking about an attitude toward changes. A liberal doesn’t love changes; in a liberal society the liberal won’t make any change. He will want to preserve the situation as it is. Liberalism is a description of a state. I’m talking about a process, not a state. But how do I change states? I can change from liberalism to anti-liberalism or vice versa. The mechanism of change—the question is whether I am a conservative with respect to my liberalism, or a midrashic conservative with respect to my liberalism, or various things of that sort. Okay? This is a different axis of discussion.
[Speaker B] How does this connect to instituting a lamentation prayer on the Sabbath? What?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] How does it connect? I’ll get there, I’ll get there in just a moment. So the claim, basically, is that there is a kind of conservatism whose external conduct looks very similar to reformism or innovation, let’s call it that. Why? Because after all, both switch to a parka. But it depends very much on the question of what your reasoning is. To decide whether you are conservative or not, it’s not enough to look at what you do. I also need to see why you do what you do. If what you do is anchored in interpretation or in midrash, what I called it earlier, then you are a conservative—but a midrashic conservative and not a plain conservative. If you do it because you don’t feel like it, because you’re cold and that’s all, then you are a heretic. You’re not a plain conservative or a midrashic conservative; you don’t accept the system at all. That’s something else. So the heretic and the midrashic conservative can do exactly the same thing phenomenologically—it looks similar—but their reasons are different. The midrashic conservative is committed to the system; he interprets it because he wants to show that he is indeed keeping the laws, he is committed to the laws. The heretic is not committed. By the way, originally I used this whole parable in order to try to define who a reformer is. And my claim was that none of these three figures is a reformer. And the one who says, I continue walking in a swimsuit—that’s what we’ll call the Haredi, fine, in the accepted sociological division. The one who says, I’m putting on a parka—that’s the modern religious person, okay? Someone prepared to update the values or to interpret them. But he is still committed to the values; he will interpret the topics when he tells us—that is, he is going with new values. He won’t say, okay, these are different values, period. Someone who says, with all due respect to the Sages, but this is immoral and therefore I do not listen to them—that’s a heretic. He isn’t interpreting the Sages; he doesn’t accept the Sages or the Torah—it doesn’t matter at the moment whether it’s the Sages or the Torah—he simply doesn’t accept the system. He says: as far as I’m concerned, whatever is immoral I won’t do. I’m committed to morality, not to Jewish law.
[Speaker C] And if he says, there’s no doubt that today the Sages would have—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Done it—then that may be a kind of interpretation. It could be. It needs checking. That may already be a kind of interpretation. But I’m talking at the moment about someone who says, no, this isn’t—
[Speaker C] I don’t think the Reform say no; the Reform say if they were—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here today, they would do it. They say much more than that, but I’ll get to that in a moment. Therefore I say that in my view, in sociological language, let’s call him a heretic. He simply doesn’t accept the system. He doesn’t need to present explanations of how he aligns with the laws of the system. So for the moment we’ve defined the plain conservative, the Haredi, yes? The midrashic conservative is the modern religious person, and the heretic. Where does the reformer fit into all this? Often people map him onto the heretic, with a fair degree of justice. But let’s say the reformer as a typical figure—not the Reform people we actually meet—perhaps one more introduction. When we talk about sociological classification, you usually won’t succeed in grounding it in a logical classification. Meaning, there is no set of criteria that defines the person we sociologically call Reform. Therefore, when I classify among reformer, midrashic conservative, plain conservative, and heretic, this is a classification of arguments, not of people. I classify arguments. People—there are many Reform people who use arguments of midrashic conservatism. There are Orthodox people who use the non-arguments of heretics. There are all kinds. People are complicated. You can’t classify people—or it’s very hard to classify people. That’s a sociological classification. I’m talking about a classification of arguments, okay? So that will be clear. Usually there is, of course, some connection.
[Speaker B] Someone who uses an argument—there’s simply correlation, there’s correlation, yes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I’m saying: it’s more convenient, more convenient to discuss arguments, and it’s also more correct to do that. Because if a Reform person comes and raises an argument of midrashic conservatism, I can’t dismiss it because he’s Reform. So what if he’s Reform? The argument is substantive. Check whether that argument is correct, works or doesn’t work. Why should I care that he’s Reform? Very often people use this in both directions. On the one hand they mix the substantive classification with the sociological one, and on the other hand they use the sociological classification to decide substantive questions. Ah, that’s Reform. I told you about—there was someone in Bnei Brak when I started wondering about the new tekhelet. So truly, there are people there, my friends in Bnei Brak. None of them wears tekhelet, and they are strict about every little dangling string of a rabbinic stringency. And here you have a positive Torah commandment; at the very least it’s a doubt—say you’re not completely convinced, surely you didn’t even check. But if you did check, let’s say you were in doubt. Still, it’s a Torah-level doubt. And even with the opinions that are lenient in cases of doubt regarding a positive commandment—we once discussed that, never mind—it’s obvious that this is something they would be strict about in another context. So I asked several acquaintances there: what’s the explanation? They told me, go check with so-and-so, he checked with the halakhic decisors, the great rabbis of the generation—he checked. Fine. So I called the man—I knew him from before—I called the man and said to him: tell me, what’s going on with tekhelet? What do the rabbis say, the halakhic decisors? Why don’t people go with tekhelet? He said to me: it’s an invention of the Religious Zionists. That’s what he said. I said to him: okay, I agree, it’s an invention of the Religious Zionists—but substantively, are the Religious Zionists right or not? Forget whether it’s an invention of the Religious Zionists. Are they right? In their arguments. What do you say? Is this tekhelet or not tekhelet? What difference does it make who came up with the idea? The question is what you say about the idea. And what does he answer you? It’s an invention of the Religious Zionists. When you say “invention” there’s also the connotation that it has no substantive basis either, it’s not just about the source or context—but there were no good answers as to why. I tried to draw something out of him and pressed him. Some time ago someone sent to the website—someone sent—some Rabbi Shafran, some important halakhic decisor from Sadigura, I think, who once said that they don’t go with tekhelet because it is a fence against the innovators. Meaning, he said openly that in fact they should have gone with tekhelet, and they don’t do it because of other considerations. By the way, according to what I said earlier, that is outright freezing, really freezing. If you wanted an example earlier, this is a classic example of freezing. In my view, many of the halakhic decisors—those who bothered to get into the issue at all, I assume most didn’t—but those who did bother to get into the issue don’t do this except through a process of freezing. Although I don’t agree with him in this case, as I said earlier, it is a completely legitimate consideration. I don’t agree with it, but it is a completely legitimate consideration; one can do that. But afterward don’t tell me that you can’t make other changes, when you suspend a positive Torah commandment because of considerations of this kind of damage or that kind of damage—then you are absolutely doing freezing. And this when you tell me that today’s religious court has no authority to establish Holocaust Remembrance Day or Independence Day or Memorial Day, this whole business that we have no authority. And not to go with tekhelet—we do have authority for that? To establish a day you aren’t transgressing any prohibition; on the contrary, there are those who anchor it like Hanukkah and Purim, that there is a commandment to recite Hallel on a day when a miracle happened for him and so on, where you’re not even doing anything—it’s a fulfillment of a positive Torah commandment. But even if we say not, then you made another day like Frankfurt Purim, whatever—what’s the problem with that? This argument is simply ridiculous. Then to come and freeze a positive commandment from the Torah of tekhelet because of all kinds of such considerations—that’s really strange. I’m saying once again: I agree with the claim that today’s sages can freeze Jewish law because of their own considerations. I don’t agree with this consideration, but that’s the consideration they make. But it was interesting to see it. It was clear to me in advance that this was what stood behind things, but he put it on the table, meaning he said it. Okay, in any case, if we return to our matter, I continue with my classification of arguments just to complete the picture. So who is the reformer? The Reform argument, not the Reform person.
[Speaker C] By the way, in the middle there are the Conservatives.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, the Conservative in my opinion is like a midrashic conservative. The modern religious and the Conservative—there’s no difference between them in my opinion, not essentially; there are differences of degree. You can agree with this midrash and not agree with another midrash, but on the principled level you too are making midrashim—that’s what I mean. It doesn’t have to be that everyone thinks the same. The changes that are really made in the halakhic context in a systematic way—not all kinds of slapdash people who do all kinds of things like that, which exist in every group—I’m talking about the declared, distinct agenda. You can find halakhic sources there for each and every matter in the responsa of their Rabbinical Assembly or something like that. I once read it; they have collections of responsa, a volume of responsa that I once read. And they go a bit far—that is, they choose positions that appear in the Talmud even if, say, later decisors didn’t accept them or something like that—but on the principled level it’s completely within the legitimate range. That is, people aren’t accustomed to doing this, but one can; there is such an opinion in the Talmud. It wasn’t ruled that way in the Talmud; later decisors ruled differently—the Rif, Maimonides, fine, so what? They rule like Abaye and not like Rava, or like Rabbi Yose and not like Rav. When you read their responsa, the responsa are, in most cases, basically halakhic responsa. They stretch the boundaries of midrash, but they make a midrash that in my view is definitely legitimate.
[Speaker D] The Neologs in Budapest, who also turned to the Orthodox rabbis who recommended ritual slaughterers to them—they weren’t willing to take them.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because the Neologs are almost entirely Orthodox. They’re not—they’re to the right of the Conservatives. In any case, the Conservatives aren’t on the map at all for me; that is midrashic conservatism. But with Reform, the feeling is still that this is something else. But it’s none of the three. So this is just a logic exercise, an interesting logic exercise. There are three types here; ostensibly that covers the whole map. What else could there be? There can be one who keeps the rule as it is, there can be one who keeps the rule according to an interpretation, there can be one who doesn’t keep the rule—what else could there be?
[Speaker E] But what is the Reform argument? Like, do they say that you can interpret however you want? Is that what—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m asking: is there room for another kind of argument? Because the feeling is that there is another kind of argument, that the Reform argument is something a bit different. They don’t do—I’ll say it again—this is not midrashic conservatism. They don’t make arguments like the Conservatives or the modern religious and so on—that wouldn’t be Reform. They also have such arguments, but they have other arguments too. There are arguments that say: look, with all due respect to the Sages, but—
[Speaker F] But that simply means there are considerations that are bigger than these considerations.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now that is the point. In other words, there are—and this is another lesson—that black-and-white thinking misleads us many times. I said there are three possibilities and I don’t see a fourth. I don’t see a fourth because it seemed obvious to me that either you obey the laws or you don’t obey the laws. What else could there be? Obey the laws through interpretation, no matter—but again, that’s not true. It may be that I obey the laws up to a certain point. There are different levels of commitment to the laws. Now the reformer—and this is the true description of the Reform figure, of the Reform argument—is indeed committed to tradition in general, except not at any price. So from the Orthodox perspective, again, that’s outside the pale. They’ll say he’s a heretic—that’s true, he really does deny the accepted Orthodox conception—but he’s not an atheist. It’s not someone who just doesn’t care. He says: listen, I would very much like to walk in a swimsuit, but this price of suffering from the cold to such a degree—for example, say moral principles for the sake of the question; it doesn’t matter, over there it’s only physical discomfort—but this price of suffering from the cold is not a price I’m willing to pay for preserving the rules. It’s not that I despise preserving the rules; I also see value in them, just not absolute value. That, I think, is the Reform figure. Okay, for our purposes, in terms of considerations of change, of course the last two figures are not important, but just in order to draw the map, it seems to me that this is the full map overall. And of course the boundaries are not sharp, as I said before, but that is more or less the full map. And perhaps one more word here about sociology, since I already mentioned it: they really are plain conservatives in that sense—this is an ethos that never existed at all. Among the Haredim, there is no such thing as a plain conservative. No such creature exists. The Haredi, in general, the typical Haredi, has built for himself some kind of ethos that he is a plain conservative. Not at all. It’s obvious that he is constantly interpreting Jewish law and keeping Jewish law according to his interpretation. I told you about my uncle who said that Abaye and Rava learned in Yiddish, because obviously they didn’t know how to learn otherwise. And he’s a Belzer Hasid, so he knows that’s not true. But he lives with the consciousness that it is, genuinely. He doesn’t really think Abaye and Rava learned in Yiddish, but it represents his ethos: that we look like Moses our teacher.
[Speaker D] Moses our teacher wore a shtreimel and tzitzit. When Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, during the last forty years of his life, was invited to the Council of Torah Sages—before there was Degel HaTorah and so on, when it was all under the control of Agudat Yisrael—they spoke there in Yiddish. And he didn’t know Yiddish, and still he was their equal in stature. And so for the meeting they came and brought Rabbi Ovadia Yosef because Rabbi Ovadia has powers of persuasion. No, they weren’t willing—Yiddish, they only spoke Yiddish.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One of the rumors is that it didn’t work regarding the question of… Anyway, that’s the remark, again, regarding sociology: there really is no plain conservatism. There are those who live in the ethos of plain conservatism, who tell themselves some story that they are living without changing a hair’s breadth from the path of their ancestors. They are changing all the time. Jewish law changes all the time, halakhic decisors change, Haredim change, everyone changes. Sometimes toward stringency, sometimes toward leniency, also toward leniency. But the basic ethos in which you live, truly—I’m not speaking about the essence—you really sometimes educate yourself and live into a situation in which you are only continuing the path of your ancestors. You don’t make interpretations and don’t get into that. You constantly do. And I brought the rule of “do not form factions,” that one may not establish two religious courts in one city. Today there is no city that has only one religious court. No one is like the Haredim in establishing a religious court for every group. Where is the stringency in “do not form factions”? I think it’s fine; I’m not saying it’s a halakhic problem. But it requires interpretation. It requires an interpretation that says that one city is not a geographic city but a city of an ethnic community—an ethnic city. In other words, just as the custom of Ashkenaz and the custom of Sepharad once were the custom of the place—and the history of this is very interesting, where it started there, the custom of the place—just as Rabbi Ovadia constantly says that this is the domain of its master, here one has to follow the Shulchan Arukh, this is the custom of the place here in the Land of Israel. So everyone has to follow the Shulchan Arukh. But no, nobody does that. Why don’t they do that? Because the custom of the place has become my ethnic custom. What does that mean? In the virtual world, a site is an internet site; it’s not a place in the world. And Jewish law anticipated that. Truly. Although it isn’t written anywhere, and it’s clear to me that this is what lies behind it. It is forbidden to establish two religious courts in one city. But if it is a religious court of Ashkenazim and a religious court of Hasidim and a religious court of Sephardim, then that isn’t one city; there are three cities here: a Sephardic city, an Ashkenazic city, and a Hasidic city. That’s all. Even in Jerusalem there was a religious court of the Perushim and a religious court of the Hasidim, yes, and a religious court of the Sephardim, and there were all kinds of religious courts in Jerusalem—I’m speaking now about the old Yishuv, before all the explosion and all those things. And it sounds as though this isn’t interpretation. It’s a super far-reaching interpretation. If you had said this to someone in the period when custom was the custom of the place, he would have stoned you for saying such a thing. And everyone does it without batting an eyelid.
[Speaker B] But even if there are two Ashkenazic synagogues one next to the other, they can say—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then you have to start discussing it. Here, once the fence has been breached, you know—then now we’re young people up to age thirty, so that’s our city. Our city is the city of young people up to age thirty. And their city is the city of Carlebach—they like Carlebach melodies, so they do it Carlebach-style. By the way, I’m not joking. I think there’s something very real here. It happens naturally; no one even wrote it, as far as I’ve seen. But it’s really true. Let each person check himself and see.
[Speaker B] Why did that change? Why is this something that wasn’t there before? Why did it change? Why wasn’t it there before?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Apparently in the past the diversity wasn’t like this. People lived in the same place all the time. There wasn’t this dynamism. The custom everyone followed was the same custom from time immemorial, what their ancestors did and what their ancestors’ ancestors did. Everyone really practiced the same way. In our village this is how it’s done. I once told about this article by Friedman, this Haredi scholar, the sociologist from Bar-Ilan, who wrote about the measurements of the Hazon Ish and the measurements of Rabbi Chaim Naeh. Why were the measurements of the Hazon Ish absorbed well in Bnei Brak but not in Jerusalem? And his claim was a very interesting one. His claim was that Bnei Brak is a city of immigrants. It was founded in the 1920s by immigrants who came from all kinds of places. Refugees. They generally came also without family; after the Holocaust there were no families left anyway. Everyone brought a different custom, if he even remembered his customs. It wasn’t that one group came with a cohesive custom. What happens in such a situation? Whoever prevails is whoever is sufficiently charismatic, whoever is considered a leadership figure in the halakhic sense. His custom takes over, and then it becomes the custom of the place. That is the Hazon Ish.
[Speaker D] Ponevezh Yeshiva is not in Ponevezh, and Mir Yeshiva isn’t in the town of Mir either, and Gur Hasidim don’t live in the town of Gur.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s true in Jerusalem as well. It’s true in Jerusalem too. But in Jerusalem it’s a veteran community. Jews have lived there for many years. It expanded—it doesn’t matter, we know that Ramot isn’t exactly Jerusalem. But old Jerusalem, the older neighborhoods of Jerusalem, are communities that are very veteran. They have the customs of their parents, and no one is going to sell them the idea that their parents didn’t fulfill their obligation on Passover when they ate the Hazon Ish measurement of matzah or when they drank the wine. Because they have a clear parental custom, and no one is going to tell them stories. And in my opinion this analysis is completely correct, and it explains exactly the difference from what existed in the past. The world today is so dynamic that in every place you find people from all backgrounds, from all places; there is no custom of the place anymore. All that remains to you is the custom that you carry with you from somewhere else. You have no other point of reference. You can’t relate to the place, because what is the place? This place is a mixed multitude of many things. So you relate to your source. You moved from the axis of space to the axis of time. You relate to your sources on the axis of time. And now “do not form factions” on the axis of time. You may not establish two religious courts over one city, where city is of course one time-axis, not one spatial place. In other words, my father and I cannot act differently. Even though in the period when there was a custom of the place, my father and I could act differently. My father lived here and I lived here, so we would act differently—and that was his local custom and this was my local custom. Even though the Talmud in “in a place where they were accustomed” says “do not forsake your mother’s Torah,” which does mean the parents’ custom—why? Because clearly in the past the place was also the parents’ custom. The parents lived in the same place and you also lived in the same place, and usually that’s how it was. The sons of Beishan there, who wanted to go out to Tyre before the Sabbath—the issue there is place. It’s the custom of a place; it’s not the custom of parents. But in a static world, usually the place was also the parents, meaning it was the same thing. Okay, I’ve digressed a bit. I’m returning to the Meiri. And the Meiri, ultimately, in short, what he argues is the following claim. I’ll perhaps read you one source as an example, one of many. There are dozens and dozens of places in the Meiri, if not more than that. “It follows that even idol worshippers who are not bound by the ways of religion—it is forbidden to rob them. If a Jew has been sold to him, it is forbidden to leave him in his hands without redemption, and likewise it is forbidden to withhold…” And not only that—even one who finds his lost object is not obligated to return it, because finding is a kind of acquisition and returning it is an act of piety. And this piety—positive commandment and prohibition from the Torah? Yes, but this is piety in the moral sense apparently, but one is not obligated to return it to them. “And we are not bound to acts of piety toward one who has no religion. And similarly regarding his error: if he erred on his own”—if a seller sold to me and made an error in the amount, one doesn’t need to return the mistake if he is a gentile—“when it did not come through one’s trickery or one’s effort, there is no obligation to return it.” By the way, it appears from the Meiri that if I caused it by trickery, then no—and that’s interesting—even with those gentiles. “And in any case, if it became known to him, one must in any event return it. And likewise even regarding a lost object, whenever withholding it would involve a desecration of God’s name, one returns it.” If there is desecration of God’s name, that’s something else. But now he says the following sentence: “However, anyone among the nations who is bound by the ways of religion and worships God in some manner, even though their faith is far from ours, they are not included in this. Rather, for these matters they are like a full Jew, both regarding a lost object and regarding an error and regarding all other matters, with no distinction whatsoever.” There are dozens of places where the Meiri repeats this statement: that gentiles who are bound by the norms of the nations—that’s his definition—there is no difference whatsoever between our treatment of them and that of a full Jew. No difference whatsoever. Now, Yaakov Katz has an article—
[Speaker C] This is a certain kind of stringency. That is, you come and say that although as a Jew you can exempt yourself from all sorts of obligations you have toward a Jew, and toward the gentile you don’t need to do that—but he comes and says no, impose on yourself also the obligations you have toward a Jew.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, and it’s not only from the side of exemption from obligations; you must also show concern for them. He claims this as halakhic simplicity. Wait, I’ll get to that. One can see in many places—I don’t have time now for all of this—but the claim is as follows. Usually it is accepted to understand the Meiri—I’ll say this briefly because it would take me a very long time—usually it is accepted to understand the Meiri as claiming that Christians are not idol worshippers. Therefore—he lived in a Christian environment in Provence—therefore Christians are not idol worshippers, and therefore the prohibitions and obligations between man and his fellow do not apply to idol worshippers, but they do apply to gentiles who are not idol worshippers. First, that itself is a dispute among the medieval authorities. Second, the Meiri himself in several places says—or rather does not say, excuse me, remains silent—regarding laws that concern Christian idolatry. For example, Yaakov Katz himself, who is the one making this claim about the Meiri, asks why he does not permit their ritual objects—the Christians’ ritual objects. It is not written anywhere in the Meiri that the ritual objects of Christians are permitted. He never says that anywhere. So he gets into all kinds of explanations of context: maybe he didn’t dare go all the way with his innovation, all kinds of things of that sort.
[Speaker B] According to this Meiri, that it is forbidden to enter a church—I saw a responsum… what? I saw a responsum according to this Meiri that one may enter a church.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I claim that is incorrect. It is forbidden to enter even according to the Meiri. We’ll soon see. Another difficulty is Maimonides, because Maimonides himself explicitly says that they are idolatry. Now the Meiri, as is known, always cites Maimonides. Does he disagree with him? He cites Maimonides and says, and I disagree with him. But here, nothing. He treats it as something simple and completely ignores explicit statements Maimonides made on this issue. Also strange. It doesn’t sound reasonable. In my opinion, that is not what is written in the Meiri. What is written in the Meiri is that Christians are idol worshippers. Simple explanation. Therefore it is obvious that their ritual objects are forbidden, and entry to a church—everything remains as it was. Except what? They are enlightened idol worshippers. They are enlightened idol worshippers, and therefore the obligations between man and his fellow also apply to them. That is the Meiri’s innovation. Therefore he did not permit their ritual objects, because he does not say they are not idol worshippers. What did he say?
[Speaker D] They are bound by the norms of the nations, yes—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They are bounded by the norms of the nations—what does that mean? It means they behave in a moral way. The great novelty is that in the past, idol worshippers were also inferior on the human, moral level. Now he looks around him and says, wait a second, but around me there are good people, less good people, better people, just like among Jews, just like in any group. So if that’s the case, there is no justification for treating them differently from the way I treat Jews. Prohibitions relating to idolatry remain in place; he did not touch those. But all prohibitions in the interpersonal realm are void, or all interpersonal obligations apply with regard to them. I’ll give you an example that is a leniency and not a stringency—though you can decide whether to see it as a leniency or a stringency. Meiri argues that one must desecrate the Sabbath through a Torah-level prohibition in order to save their lives, against the Talmud. So what is he saying that is forbidden? It’s not even a stringency; he permits desecrating the Sabbath where the Talmud forbids it. Not necessarily a stringency. In other words, you see that he takes this all the way. Meiri, in the eighth chapter of Yoma. And the point is, essentially—and this is in the ways
[Speaker B] Peace of this kind?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, it seems clear that this is simply an interpretation. The statements of the Sages—or of the Torah, or of the Sages—were said only about the non-Jews of old, who were not bounded by the norms of religion. The non-Jews of our day are simply not the non-Jews of old; they are people with a relation to Judaism—that is exactly Meiri’s description. And this has various implications. I’m shortening things here because I want to finish this. What does this actually mean? It means that when you make an interpretive argument of this kind—which is really midrashic conservatism, right?—when you make an interpretive argument of this kind, you are essentially doing midrash on what the Sages said, and you continue to preserve what the Sages said, but through the interpretation that you have tilted it toward. That means that you have not really made a halakhic ruling change. You have not made a halakhic ruling change. On the contrary, the rule is that one should wear clothing suitable for the weather, not that one should walk around in a bathing suit. So all of Maimonides’ discussions about whether one needs to make a change or not make a change are irrelevant, because I am not making a change in Jewish law. On the contrary: whoever does not do what I am saying is changing Jewish law. Someone who goes around in a bathing suit where it’s cold is a transgressor, because the rule is to wear clothing suitable for the weather. Therefore the question of authority does not trouble Meiri; therefore the question of authority does not trouble Meiri. Meiri argues that if in his time the reality is different, then this is not called changing Jewish law; it is called preserving the ancient Jewish law as it is, only of course according to the correct interpretation. This is midrashic conservatism and not simplistic conservatism, but it is conservatism. Making changes is Reform. Now if you do it with authority, in the Sanhedrin, there is no problem—you are allowed to be Reform, meaning to make a change, because you have authority. To make changes without authority is problematic. But here Meiri says: I am not entering the category of changes at all; I am not making a change. I am simply preserving the law, and therefore I am telling you what the law says. And that is the essence of Torah-level change. I said that today I would deal with Torah-level change; next time with rabbinic change, because with rabbinic changes this is not enough. We saw in Maimonides that even if the reason for which they instituted the enactment has lapsed, the enactment does not lapse until another court comes and permits it. And therefore there, such a thing would be considered a change. In Torah law, such a thing would not be considered a change, because in Torah law I am not disagreeing at all with those who came before me; I am not claiming that they were wrong, and I am also not uprooting anything. I am simply saying: this is what must be done. I am carrying out their instruction; I am just carrying out their instruction. Whoever does not do this is a transgressor. If I return to lice, lice are of course an even more extreme case, because there it is a factual mistake. That is, assuming that today the Talmud says that it is permitted to kill a louse because a louse is generated from putrefaction, not from male and female, but today we understand that this is not so. A louse reproduces like other living creatures. So what does that mean? Is it permitted to kill a louse? True, here this is a stringency-change, and despite the fact that it is a stringency-change, many halakhic decisors say that it is permitted to kill a louse on the Sabbath even today, because that is what the Sages said. Some explain this on the grounds that the Sages could not err even on factual-scientific matters, and others explain it in terms of authority regarding halakhic changes. But as we have now seen, I think such a thing is not a change. It is not a change, but not exactly as in Meiri’s case. Meiri did not claim that the Sages erred; Meiri claimed that the command of the Sages is correctly applied in his time the way he says, and not the way the Sages said. Here the claim is that they made a mistake. But the point is that I am not disputing their judgment; I am simply saying that the data before them when they made the decision were incorrect data.
[Speaker B] There is no enactment that one may not kill a louse; it is permitted to kill a louse on the Sabbath. There is no enactment that it is permitted to kill a louse on the Sabbath.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, obviously. I said this is a stringency, not a leniency.
[Speaker B] No, and this too was not done in the form of an enactment; they simply wrote that it is permitted.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And now you are saying that it is forbidden. I am saying I would stone someone who kills a louse on the Sabbath, if you want a practical implication as a stringency, or define him as a Sabbath desecrator with all the consequences, even today. Okay? So there are also stringency implications to this matter. And I claim that it really is forbidden, and it is forbidden. You do not need a religious court for this, and you do not need anything. And by the way, here even in rabbinic law you do not need a court greater in wisdom and number, and you do not need a court at all. Rather, if it is clear that from the outset it was based on a mistake—and assuming that in the end this is clear to us as well—then it is like any contract, like any determination: the moment it was established on the basis of an error, it is void. Like any other exercise of judgment. And so here again, this is indeed called a halakhic ruling change, but the change is not a normative change; it is a change in the basis, in the factual infrastructure on which the normative determination was made. And if I have become convinced that factually they erred—after all, it is obvious that the Sages erred quite a bit on the factual plane; it is well known that there are scientific things that today we know, and there are many of them—then there is no need to make an issue of it at all. So if that is the case, then what is the problem? Meaning, I am not making a change, and therefore it really is possible. And on the Torah level—and this is an important point, so I am concluding—on the Torah level, if I reached the conclusion that I have a midrashic interpretation, then the question of authority does not arise at all, because I am not making a change at all. On the rabbinic level it will be different, and I will touch on that next time. All right? Goodbye.