Doubt and Probability — in Halakha, Thought, and in General — Lesson 11
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- The laws of doubt, “poison,” and the ability to be lenient
- Spiritual dulling of the heart: the transgression versus the object itself, and implications for leniency
- The Ben Ish Chai, tefillin in Baghdad, and “coercion is not considered as though one acted”
- Essence and command, the Euthyphro dilemma, and morality versus Jewish law
- Torah-level doubt stringently and rabbinic-level doubt leniently: essence versus command
- “Proper” versus “obligatory,” and permissions that are not quite wholehearted
- Rules born of logic but fixed as practical rules: whoever is stronger prevails
- No distinctions, the majority of stores, and moving away from direct statistics
- Arbitrary legal lines: a three-year-old girl’s virginity returns, and the Jerusalem Talmud’s “God completes it for me”
- “Give dew and rain,” ninety repetitions, and an ox with established dangerous behavior as a justification for habituation
- Presumptions based on three occurrences: evidence, habituation, and halakhic analogy based on an arbitrary threshold
- Summary of principles regarding rules of doubt and the relationship between rationale and rule
Summary
General Overview
The lecture continues from the rules that define when a situation counts as a doubt, and presents the basic tension in the laws of doubt between viewing prohibition as a kind of “poison,” which would justify always being stringent, and the Torah’s desire to allow people to function in the world—“the Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people”—which is what establishes situations in which one may be lenient. The lecturer sharpens a dispute over whether the “dulling” and spiritual harm come from the transgression and the command, or from the object itself, and brings examples and sources to show that the laws of doubt serve to generate permissions and establish formal legal lines. In the end, he proposes two principles about the structure of the rules of doubt: rules that are born from a certain logic but become fixed as rules of conduct even when that logic is weak or absent, and rules based on logic but containing an arbitrary threshold of “how much clarification is enough,” so their rationales should not be treated as factual statements about reality.
The laws of doubt, “poison,” and the ability to be lenient
The lecturer argues that if prohibition were perceived like physical poison, one would always have to be stringent even against an overwhelming majority, and explains that the fact that the Torah allows leniencies in cases of doubt and majority stems from the desire to enable life and functioning in the world, and from the principle that “the Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people.” The lecturer claims that the basis of the laws of doubt is a novel permission, because the starting point is that one would not touch something carrying a concern of prohibition were it not for halakhic rules that permit it. He adds that even when Jewish law permits something, there may still be room for what is “proper,” and for the stringency of a “spiritually sensitive person,” which is not a legal obligation, and notes that some halakhic decisors hold that one who is stringent where something is nullified in the majority is a “fool,” though he himself does not agree.
Spiritual dulling of the heart: the transgression versus the object itself, and implications for leniency
The lecturer brings the dispute among halakhic authorities regarding nursing from a non-Jewish wet nurse, where ostensibly the forbidden foods she eats dull the infant’s soul, and presents a view according to which the dulling is a result of the prohibition and not of the material reality, so that “it is not the pig that dulls the soul, but rather the prohibition of pork that dulls the soul.” He explains that if something is permitted by nullification in the majority or by the rules of doubt, then there is no “poison” here in the sense of spiritual dulling, because the poison is the transgression and not the object. He presents the discussion as unresolved and admits he does not know how to decide whether there is some kind of “protection” when the thing is permitted, placing the question within the broader dispute over whether the harm depends on the prohibition or on the thing itself.
The Ben Ish Chai, tefillin in Baghdad, and “coercion is not considered as though one acted”
The lecturer cites a responsum of the Ben Ish Chai in Sod Yesharim about an incident involving his grandfather, who was a rabbi in Baghdad, when an Ashkenazi emissary saw that the tefillin in the community were not kosher because they were not properly square, and the community had practiced this way for generations. The Ben Ish Chai writes that the members of the community are not considered “a scalp that never bore tefillin,” because they acted under coercion, and the lecturer emphasizes how astonishing this is, since coercion exempts from blame but does not make a person count as though he performed the act. The classroom discussion suggests that the Ben Ish Chai’s claim seems extreme, to the point of depending on human consciousness rather than on “halakhic truth,” and the lecturer uses this to return to the more moderate claim that the harm depends on the transgression and not on the object itself.
Essence and command, the Euthyphro dilemma, and morality versus Jewish law
The lecturer raises the question whether there is an inherent “problem” with pork, or whether the problem is created by the command, and frames this as a kind of “halakhic Euthyphro dilemma” concerning the relationship between prohibition and essence. He brings a discussion of the Euthyphro dilemma in the moral realm and explains that in his view one should not see God’s will as arbitrary, because then the statement that the Holy One, blessed be He, is good becomes an empty definition rather than a real claim. The lecturer rejects explanations that identify all commandments as morality in a Kantian sense, and argues that such explanations are like an “English-Turkish dictionary,” emphasizing that he also has sources pointing to an essential aspect in the commandments beyond the command itself.
Torah-level doubt stringently and rabbinic-level doubt leniently: essence versus command
The lecturer explains that Torah-level prohibitions contain two aspects—command and essence—and cites Tosafot HaRosh and the Ritva, who explain why one who is commanded and performs is greater than one who is not commanded and performs: the commanded person both fulfills God’s will and does the act that is intrinsically right. He argues that the rule of rabbinic-level doubt being treated leniently reveals that the reason for stringency in Torah-level doubt is not only concern for the command, because according to Maimonides even rabbinic laws involve a Torah-level command of “do not deviate,” but rabbinic laws lack the “essence” of a harmful prohibition in itself, as in the case of poultry with milk, which is prohibited as a safeguard. He concludes that the obligation to be stringent in Torah-level doubt stems from concern for essential harm, somewhat like “poison,” but the comparison to poison is limited, because in cases of majority and double doubt one is lenient even in Torah-level matters.
“Proper” versus “obligatory,” and permissions that are not quite wholehearted
The lecturer formulates a distinction between what Jewish law requires and what is proper to do, arguing that “proper” is not a binding halakhic category, even though “a God-fearing person should be stringent” appears in many places in the halakhic literature. He clarifies that a legal permission does not necessarily amount to saying there is no issue at all on the level of what is proper, and brings the model of going beyond the letter of the law as a general model for a moral-religious expectation beyond strict הדין. He presents the question whether in cases of doubt and nullification in the majority it is indeed correct to expect stringency from a “spiritually sensitive person” as separate from the basic legal permission itself.
Rules born of logic but fixed as practical rules: whoever is stronger prevails
The lecturer presents a principle according to which some of the rules of doubt begin with a basic logic, sometimes a weak one, and then become formal rules that apply even when that logic does not hold. He cites the Rosh’s explanation of the rule “whoever is stronger prevails” in the case of a boat in a river over which no one has established possession: the one who really owns the boat will fight more determinedly and therefore will usually win. But the lecturer stresses that even this logic does not hold in cases of a bully against the true owner, and yet the rule still remains the rule. He classifies this as a practical rule of conduct whose basis includes an investigative rationale explaining why this rule was chosen out of other options, without turning it into a rule that necessarily clarifies the truth.
No distinctions, the majority of stores, and moving away from direct statistics
The lecturer gives the example of a piece of meat found in a city with nine kosher stores and one non-kosher store, and notes a dispute whether one follows the majority of stores even when the non-kosher store is enormous and holds more meat than all the others combined. He explains that one can say that once a rule has been established of following the majority of stores, it functions as a practical rule and even moves away from the statistical logic of “amount of meat,” identifying this as close to the principle of making no distinctions. He distinguishes between extensions where there is a strong rationale in ordinary cases and examples where even the original rationale is weak, yet still sufficient to establish halakhic order.
Arbitrary legal lines: a three-year-old girl’s virginity returns, and the Jerusalem Talmud’s “God completes it for me”
The lecturer presents the rule that up to age three, a girl’s virginity returns, and cites the Jerusalem Talmud in Ketubot, which discusses a case where the religious court added a leap month to the year, so that a girl who had relations at the age of “three and a week” in Nisan becomes halakhically younger when Nisan turns into Adar II. He quotes the Shakh in Yoreh De’ah 189, who brings the exposition “which you shall proclaim in their appointed times—even with respect to bodily changes as well,” and the Jerusalem Talmud’s phrase “God completes it for me,” and notes that preachers use this to argue that the religious court’s determination changes reality. The lecturer rejects this as “nonsense” and argues that this is a halakhic determination of status and an arbitrary legal line established for legal decision-making, because in physiological reality there is a distribution and no uniform transition point for all girls, and the Jerusalem Talmud is dealing with how to apply the presumption when the halakhic definition of age is determined by the religious court.
“Give dew and rain,” ninety repetitions, and an ox with established dangerous behavior as a justification for habituation
The lecturer cites the Tur, Orach Chayim 114, on the rule that after thirty days a person is assumed to have become accustomed to saying “He causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall,” and the custom of Maharam of Rothenburg to say the formula ninety times on Shemini Atzeret so as to be considered immediately accustomed. He quotes Maharam’s proof from the Talmudic discussion of an ox with established dangerous behavior: “If spacing out its goring makes him liable, then bringing its goring closer together all the more so,” and Rabbeinu Peretz’s comment that “the case being judged is not comparable to the proof,” because there it is a matter of being established as a gorer, whereas here it is a matter of linguistic habit. The lecturer adds that the common yeshiva-style explanation, which frames their dispute as “habituation” versus “evidence” in the case of the dangerous ox, is charming but incorrect, and says that the account given by later authorities actually reverses things, though he does not elaborate here.
Presumptions based on three occurrences: evidence, habituation, and halakhic analogy based on an arbitrary threshold
The lecturer points to the many presumptions based on three occurrences in the Talmud, such as the three-year presumption of land ownership, the presumption regarding circumcision when three children died due to circumcision, and the fixing of a menstrual cycle, and cites Kehillot Yaakov on Taharot, section 47, which discusses whether these presumptions are based on habituation or on evidence. He emphasizes that the Talmud compares different presumptions even though some are evidence-based and some are habituation-based, and explains that this poses no difficulty because every “three times” is an arbitrary halakhic line set in order to translate probabilities into legal decision-making. He argues that there is no holiness to the number three and no uniform probability percentage across all contexts, so Jewish law sets a formal threshold of “good enough” rather than making a factual statement about reality, and warns against pilpul based on the assumption that this is a scientific determination.
Summary of principles regarding rules of doubt and the relationship between rationale and rule
The lecturer summarizes two principles: there are practical rules whose basis lies in a certain investigative logic, but once established they function formally even when that logic is not decisive; and there are rules that do have an investigative rationale, but the threshold at which that rationale is considered “enough” is an arbitrary line, so one should not overextend their reasons and build a whole fresh system of application on them. He emphasizes that Jewish law shapes rules into a form people can actually work with, and that one must be careful not to turn the rationales of rules into factual claims about reality. He closes the lecture with the words, “So that’s it for now,” and after there are no questions, ends with “Shabbat shalom.”
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, last time we dealt a bit with the rules for how doubts are decided. Right? After we finished mapping out the landscape of doubts, the principles by which we determine that the situation we’re in really is a case of doubt, and after we got through those two stages, now we need to know what to do in that doubtful situation. So there are all kinds of rules, and I talked about the kinds of rules—decision rules, conduct rules, clarification rules, all sorts of things. We illustrated this with various examples, and in the end, different kinds of rules. And in the end I also said that the basis of all the laws of doubt is really built on a tension between two things. On the one hand, if we view prohibition like a kind of poison, then in principle we should always be stringent. Right? If I have a cup of drink with a five percent chance that it contains poison, nobody would touch it, right? Even though ninety-five percent is fine—there’s a majority, even an overwhelming majority—still nobody would touch it. You don’t mess with poison. Now if prohibition were understood by us—ostensibly prohibition is something like poison—then really we ought to be stringent all the time. Meaning, every time there is some possibility that we’re violating a prohibition, we should be stringent. So why nevertheless are there situations in which we can be lenient—cases of doubt, majority, whatever; whenever there’s a possibility of prohibition and still we are allowed to be lenient? I said that this stems from the Torah’s wish to let us function in the world. Because if we were stringent about every tiny shred of doubt in every matter, you couldn’t do anything. We’d just have to sit at home tied up and not move. Or another side of the same thing: the Torah has concern for our property. I brought the idea of the law of something that will eventually become permitted, and through that I tried to show this point. The Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people, and therefore it allows them, basically.
[Speaker B] Rabbi, rabbi, rabbi—the statement that the Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people, what stands behind that is that this really isn’t poison.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, that’s—
[Speaker B] The next sentence. That was my next sentence.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ostensibly, when we say the Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people—very nice that it has concern—but if the Torah had concern for my money and therefore told me, “You’re allowed to drink a cup that has a five percent chance of containing poison,” I still wouldn’t touch it, right? Meaning, the fact that it cares about my money doesn’t help at all if I really see this thing as poison. And therefore, even if I say that the reasons to be lenient are those reasons, that somewhat undermines this whole picture of prohibition as some kind of physical poison, yes, something genuinely harmful. But that’s somewhat connected—I don’t think I went into this, but I’ll sharpen it.
[Speaker C] The rabbi already said this in the series—the rabbi, according to the previous series, explained that you need both the command and the essence, so it makes more sense.
[Speaker B] What makes more sense? If there’s still a real problem in the thing itself—if pork itself contains some problem—
[Speaker C] Yes, but the whole issue is that if in the end there’s no command, then it lowers—it lowers the significance, it doesn’t—
[Speaker B] So then there’s no problem with pork? Pork doesn’t dull the soul just because there’s no command?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so what he means, I think—if I understand correctly—what he means, I’ll say briefly here, though you could expand on this, and it’s a dispute that starts in Ketubot 60a and then medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim) discuss it there, regarding an infant nursing from a non-Jewish wet nurse. I don’t think I talked about this last time—I don’t remember anymore. Nursing from a non-Jewish wet nurse—there are disputes there because ostensibly their assumption is that since the non-Jewish wet nurse eats forbidden foods, her milk dulls the infant’s soul. Now the question is whether it is proper—even if it’s not formally prohibited halakhically—but still proper to look for a Jewish wet nurse so the baby’s soul won’t be dulled. And the commentaries discuss this, both on the Shulchan Arukh and the interpreters there; it starts with the Rosh there in Ketubot. And there’s a claim, by at least some of them, that the dulling of the heart, or the result—the poison in the matter—is a consequence of the prohibition, not of the reality. Meaning, it’s not the pig that dulls the soul, but the prohibition of pork that dulls the soul. In other words, if you eat pork as a prohibition, that dulls your soul; it’s not that pork as such has some effect on the soul. And therefore, if you say that the Torah permits the thing—nullification in the majority, or doubt, or whatever it may be, Torah-level doubt is treated stringently, but double doubt—then in such a situation the thing doesn’t—there isn’t this—it’s no longer poison. The poison here is not the forbidden object, but the prohibition involved in it. And therefore, when there is no prohibition in the thing, it also doesn’t dull the soul.
There are two very interesting responsa of the Ben Ish Chai—let me add this a bit. He has two very interesting responsa in Sod Yesharim, responsa on esoteric matters. So there he tells of an incident that happened with his grandfather, who was a rabbi in Baghdad—he too was a rabbi in Baghdad, and his grandfather was a rabbi in Baghdad—a large, magnificent, ancient Jewish community. And once some Ashkenazi emissary from the Land of Israel came there to collect money, as emissaries were wont to do. He lived with them for a certain period, was there for some time, and at some point this emissary looked around the synagogue and saw that the tefillin all the people in the synagogue were putting on were not kosher. Meaning, they weren’t properly squared; they had rounded corners, and rounded corners invalidate tefillin. So he went to the Ben Ish Chai’s grandfather, who was the rabbi of the community, and said, “Listen, the tefillin here don’t look kosher to me.” Fine. So he sat with the issue, thought, checked, and came to the conclusion that the emissary was right. Now they had been used to this for generations, making tefillin this way. So he wondered whether the people of the community were considered “a scalp that never bore tefillin,” meaning a person whose head never encountered tefillin, because they had put on invalid tefillin all their lives, they and their fathers, for generations already. And he argues there—the Ben Ish Chai writes there—that they are not. He says they are not “a scalp that never bore tefillin” because they were coerced, and so on and so forth. Now this is astonishing, because okay, if they were coerced, that means they’re not guilty—but coercion is not considered as though one acted. Right? That’s a dispute between Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish; in the Babylonian Talmud and the Jerusalem Talmud the views switch, but in practice the ruling is that coercion is not considered as though one acted. Meaning, the fact that a person was coerced exempts him from blame, but it doesn’t turn him into someone who performed the act if he was coerced into not doing it. If a person was coerced into not doing an act, he won’t be punished for that, but obviously it doesn’t count as though he did it. Say, if someone was coerced and didn’t put on tefillin in the morning, can he put on tefillin in the afternoon? Does he have to, or maybe it counts as though he already put them on in the morning because he was coerced? No. Coercion exempts him from punishment, but being coerced doesn’t turn him into someone who put on tefillin. Coercion is not considered as though one acted. The fact that he was coerced is not like someone who did the thing. Okay? And here the Ben Ish Chai says yes—they performed the commandment of tefillin, fulfilled the commandment of tefillin; invalid tefillin, and they fulfilled the commandment of tefillin. They are not “a scalp that never bore tefillin.” It really is astonishing. By the way, he has another similar responsum, not in the context of tefillin but in another matter—not in Sod Yesharim but in… I don’t remember now which responsa.
[Speaker B] Why is that so astonishing?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because they didn’t fulfill the commandment of tefillin. What do you mean, why?
[Speaker B] But if the tradition established it that way?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The tradition was mistaken. What do you mean, the tradition established it that way? There could be a community whose tradition is that eating pork is allowed—so because of that, eating pork becomes allowed?
[Speaker C] No, it’s not “a scalp that never bore tefillin,” meaning with regard to the severity of it and the coercion—what he—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no. He argues there that it counts as though they did the commandment of tefillin. Not just that mystical category of “a scalp that never bore tefillin,” where you could indeed say they don’t have the severity of that status—not that they fulfilled the commandment of tefillin, but there’s no claim against them of being “a scalp that never bore tefillin.” No, no—he says they fulfilled the commandment of tefillin.
[Speaker C] Why? He argues—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s astonishing. I don’t know. Astonishing.
[Speaker B] Why astonishing? I don’t really understand. Jewish law isn’t detached from the community and the custom people practice.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Jewish law is completely detached from the community and the custom.
[Speaker B] But it was created—almost all of it was created from the earliest times, I think—as a human creation and human judgment. It’s not a human creation? Well, and that creation can be mistaken; the rabbi is bringing—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It can be mistaken, but it’s still mistaken. Here, the members of the community themselves admitted they had erred. It’s not that they held a different opinion. They understood they had been wrong.
[Speaker B] And all the disputes that arise anew—say, “two were traveling” and at first there was Ben Petora and that was the practice, until Rabbi Akiva came and said—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s not custom. I don’t understand—there’s an opinion of Ben Petora… what does that have to do with customs? No, those aren’t customs in the sense that once people did it that way.
[Speaker B] No, but a large part of—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Tefillin is not a dispute. Tefillin have to be square. There’s no dispute.
[Speaker B] Yes, but their halakhic sages ruled that way for themselves—that’s not a mistake.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, they didn’t rule; they made a mistake.
[Speaker B] Fine, but what does that mean? We can all make mistakes. The rabbi doesn’t think so—he knows we can make mistakes.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Who can make mistakes? Sure, I can make a mistake. But they did make a mistake—not “can make.”
[Speaker B] Fine, but always after the mistake—every mistaken ruling throughout the generations, after it happens we say, “That was a mistake, definitely a mistake.” But before that it wasn’t a mistake.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it really turned out afterward that it was a mistake, not another opinion. It was a mistake. So clearly—it’s a mistake. They didn’t do the commandment. What do you mean?
[Speaker B] Again, again—within halakhic judgment. For example, the rabbi supports autonomy, right? In ruling—that a person rules against ninety-nine point nine percent of decisors, but he is convinced—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re going back to the same issue. What you’re saying is irrelevant. Why? Because the fact that he rules against most decisors doesn’t interest me. He thinks he’s right.
[Speaker B] Right, but afterward—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But we are talking about a situation where he himself says he was wrong.
[Speaker B] No, afterward, after—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What difference does it make whether afterward or now? No, we’re talking about the fact that he was wrong.
[Speaker B] No, but how do we relate to the period when he really was sure he was right?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Nothing—he was wrong!
[Speaker B] So is he considered a transgressor?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’s not a transgressor. He’s not guilty. But he didn’t fulfill the commandment. Coercion is not considered as though one acted. He was coerced, he has no blame, no claim can be made against him, obviously, that’s clear. But coercion is not considered as though one acted—that’s the halakhic rule.
[Speaker C] Yes, the rabbi always compares this to quantum physics: quantum mechanics existed then too, we just hadn’t discovered it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, exactly. Fine, that doesn’t mean—obviously there are disputes and each side will hold its own opinion and that’s all fine. A person should act according to what he thinks. But if it turns out he was wrong, then he was wrong. There’s no such thing as not being wrong even though he thinks he was.
[Speaker D] Anyway, as far as our topic goes: the Talmud says that Rabbi Chiya had tefillin sewn with linen and not sinew. About Rabbi Chiya—so didn’t he also fail to fulfill it? Same question, no?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct.
[Speaker C] But what the rabbi—rabbi, going back to what I asked then? What I asked—what the rabbi asked about doubt, whether it’s poison, not poison—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so what I’m saying is that this is a much more extreme example than what I said before, because this example basically says that not only the command—but it’s so subjective that it’s not even halakhic truth that determines it; what determines it is what people think. But that’s very extreme. I want to make a less extreme claim: that what dulls the soul, what causes the problematic effects of the transgression, is the transgression in it, not the pig—not the object as such, but the transgression in it.
[Speaker C] No, but in the previous series, in the previous series, we talked a lot about that regarding ruling—Torah and ruling—and the rabbi there brought, for example, the Ran’s homilies about the rebellious elder, where he says that ostensibly then he knows he is dulling, he knows he is damaging the worlds. So the Ran there really writes that yes indeed—who told you that the damage of the prohibition comes from going against the religious court? And then the rabbi really built it up that it’s not such a dichotomy; there’s complexity between essence and command.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, but there it’s exactly the opposite—the Ran is proof for what I’m saying now. Because the Ran says that if you listened to the religious court and ate pork, okay? Then it dulled your soul. He only says: still, you had to listen to them, because if you hadn’t listened to them, then your soul would also have been dulled—by what? By the transgression of not listening to the religious court. So you see from that itself that the Ran claims that even if you did it permissibly, or by order of the religious court, if the court made a mistake then the dulling of the soul is still produced.
[Speaker C] Yes, so you see that it’s essential, not just command.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, not at all.
[Speaker C] Since pork can dull the heart even though I am allowed to eat it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean, allowed to eat it? You are commanded to eat it, but that doesn’t mean it’s permitted.
[Speaker C] Because I have to listen
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] to the religious court.
[Speaker C] I understand, right, rabbi, but I’m not committing a transgression.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but the pork—the pork is a forbidden thing. I don’t think there is proof from there that pork itself dulls the soul; rather, the transgression of pork dulls it. It’s just that when a religious court instructs me to eat pork, although I’m doing a transgression here—and I’m commanded to do a transgression, because not eating the pork would also be a transgression: not listening to the religious court. Since I myself think it’s pork and forbidden to eat, therefore it’s a transgression also from the standpoint of the command. There are situations in which the Torah tells me that I need to commit a transgression, because the obligation to listen to the religious court outweighs the obligation not to eat pork. That’s what the Ran says, so I don’t think you can bring proof from the Ran—
[Speaker C] Again—but then, rabbi, I remember that even without bringing proofs, the rabbi also said a priori that it is not satisfying to say that the Holy One, blessed be He, commands things that have no essence. And that’s also the difference between Torah-level and rabbinic-level law—that’s how the rabbi wanted to categorize it then.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, correct—so what?
[Speaker C] No, so I’m saying—clearly there is a problem in pork.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, again—there is a problem in pork, but in a place where the Torah says that it is nullified, say in a majority, then the problem won’t dull my soul. The Holy One, blessed be He, will protect me. I don’t know.
[Speaker C] Yes, but that’s it—it’s a bit complicated because there is a problem.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, but there’s a problem only where the prohibition exists.
[Speaker B] So it comes out that in any case the problem is not in the object itself—it’s not in the object itself.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? On the contrary—the last comment says the problem is entirely in the object itself. It’s just that where the thing is not forbidden, there is some kind of protection for the soul from that problem.
[Speaker B] Suddenly there’s an antidote to this poison. Exactly. Does that sound logical, rabbi?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know—does it sound logical? I don’t know. I have no way of telling you whether any of this is logical or not. Anyway, what I want to say in the end is that although one can view this thing as poison, still the Torah saw fit to establish rules that sometimes allow you to do it. And we got into this whole question of whether the transgression creates the poison in the matter, or the pig itself is the poison in the matter. And that’s the tension present in the rules of doubt. That’s why I said that the rules of doubt really come to introduce permission. The novelty in them is the permission, not the prohibition. So prohibition is the default; that’s the starting point. Anything about which there is a concern that maybe there is prohibition here—I obviously wouldn’t touch it were it not for halakhic rules that allow me to touch it. And by the way, for example, from this it could follow—this is what I also said about something that will eventually become permitted—that if a person wants to be stringent with himself and still not touch it even though it is permitted, I think it really is proper to do so. Proper to do so, just not obligatory, because the Torah has concern for your property.
[Speaker C] Doesn’t this depend on the dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) whether Torah-level doubt being treated stringently is itself Torah-level or only rabbinic?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—I said “proper.” Not halakhically. Halakhically it’s permitted.
[Speaker C] Yes, no—I mean, what the rabbi said then, what our starting assumption is. If Torah-level doubt being treated stringently is only rabbinic, then really the starting assumption is to be lenient—that it’s permitted, that the Torah only prohibited things if they’re certain.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but then that would be the Torah’s novelty: that Torah-level doubt is treated leniently.
[Speaker C] Ah, that itself is the novelty?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what is being introduced. That rule too is one of the rules that teaches you that in certain situations you can be lenient. But you need a source for that. Meaning, the ability to be lenient in certain situations is the novelty of the laws of doubt; that’s what they came for. The novelty of the laws of doubt is to show you in which places, despite the fact that it’s poison, you can be lenient. As I said before, one can certainly understand that being lenient doesn’t mean it’s no problem at all; rather, the Torah is not demanding that you be stringent. If you want to be stringent with yourself and throw out the whole mixture so as not to stumble in the prohibition of eating pork, even though by strict law it is nullified, it may be that this is indeed an admirable thing. That doesn’t mean that—
[Speaker B] How can that be? How can that be? What does the Holy One, blessed be He, want from me? If you really asked Him one-on-one, “What do You really want me to do? Would You really prefer that I not—?” then obviously a person would come down there and say, “I’m not doing it.” What, because He had pity on a few pennies?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m claiming.
[Speaker B] So a God-fearing person really shouldn’t rely on any of the laws of doubt.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct, yes. A tremendous novelty. Okay, so there, I’ve now introduced it. What I’m doing here is drawing a distinction between what Jewish law requires and what is proper to do. “Proper” is not a halakhic category. Jewish law doesn’t require you to do it; meaning, it doesn’t cross the halakhic threshold. Should a God-fearing person be stringent? Fine—in many places the decisors write that a God-fearing person should be stringent. And again, in the halakhic literature you can find—I think in Oneg Yom Tov, I believe I mentioned this, I don’t remember—in a responsum of Oneg Yom Tov and elsewhere, they want to argue that there’s no need to be stringent at all: when there is nullification in the majority, one who is stringent is a fool, because it is permitted, period. I don’t think I agree with that claim. Meaning, “the Torah has concern for the property of the Jewish people” means that you are not obligated. In other words, if you want to be stringent, nobody will make a claim against you. But still, yes, it may be proper—if you are God-fearing and don’t want to fail in this matter of pork, whether spiritual dulling is involved or not, that can be discussed—then keep away from it. The halakhic definition is that the minority becomes permitted. And that is a halakhic definition. It does not necessarily mean that there is no problem at all on the level of what is proper—not on the level of halakhic obligation. These are still two different planes. But from the outset you view this prohibition as a permission.
[Speaker F] You’re turning the Torah—at least that’s how it sounds to me in my intuition—into a human Torah, not the Torah of the Holy One, blessed be He. Because you’re worried about some something, so you say, “I won’t do it that way.” But the Torah says that this thing is permitted. Like, why? Where are you getting that concern from?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t manage to understand. What does “a human Torah” have to do with it? I didn’t understand the opening.
[Speaker F] I’m trying to understand—if you could explain to me—what your reasoning is for saying that the stringency here is proper.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] My reasoning is very simple. I’m saying that in principle the Torah does not want me to eat pork. There is a problem—leave the Torah aside. There is a problem in eating pork. Right?
[Speaker F] When it is forbidden—when the Torah forbade pork, then it is forbidden. But when the Torah permitted pork—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Wait—there is a problem in eating pork, and therefore pork is forbidden. Not that it is forbidden and therefore there is a problem; rather, there is a prohibition because there is a problem. This is the halakhic Euthyphro dilemma, right? The prohibition—well, that really is a question.
[Speaker F] Fine, so that’s my claim.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I want to argue—
[Speaker F] Then according to you, eating a sheep that died naturally or a slaughtered sheep—would that also be the same problem? After all, it’s exactly the same sheep.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not at all. Here it died, and here it was slaughtered. I don’t understand.
[Speaker F] Yes, but as far as the meat is concerned, it’s exactly the same meat. Meaning, the prohibition—the problem is in the command, in the prohibition, in the command—not in the sheep’s meat.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, not at all. Eating a sheep that wasn’t slaughtered properly means eating something else. What do you mean? What? The meat is the same meat? So what if the meat is the same meat? Milk and meat are also the same thing—milk separately is permitted, meat separately is permitted, and it’s exactly the same thing; only when they’re together is it forbidden to eat. Because of the command, right? Because of the command.
[Speaker F] Not because of the command—the command is because of—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not that it’s forbidden because—there isn’t here some—
[Speaker F] something
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] in the object itself, in this meat, that—
[Speaker F] You’re going back again—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And I’ll go back again to mine. Not true. You assume that the prohibition is because of the command, and I claim that the command is because of the prohibition. That’s the Euthyphro dilemma.
[Speaker F] Wait, but if the command is because of—if the command is because of the problem in pork, then what is the problem with the meat of a sheep, slaughtered or dead?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re asking me what the problem is? I have no idea.
[Speaker F] Okay, so that’s the question.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, you’ve stopped me there with your claim. The Torah itself says there is a problem.
[Speaker F] There is a problem because of the command, because of the command—not because of a problem in the meat.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not at all. Not at all. Not at all. That makes no sense whatsoever.
[Speaker C] That’s Guide for the Perplexed—that’s explicit Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, of course, and it’s also obvious in reasoning. Think about the Euthyphro dilemma in relation to morality. Okay? The dilemma is: did the Holy One, blessed be He, forbid something because it is not good, or is it not good because the Holy One, blessed be He, forbade it? Okay? There’s a book by Avi Sagi, and he argues that in Torah thought—sorry, in Jewish thought—there is almost no view like the second option. Meaning, it’s forbidden because the Holy One, blessed be He, forbade it? No—it is forbidden because it is immoral; it is not immoral because the Holy One, blessed be He, forbade it. Why is that? Ostensibly—what? Everything is in God’s hands; He could have determined the opposite and there would have been no problem. No, He could not have determined the opposite. He could not have determined the opposite. What is immoral is immoral, and there’s nothing even the Holy One, blessed be He, can do about it. Even if He had not commanded it. On the contrary, the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself is subject to the rule that says that such an action is immoral, and therefore He also expects us not to do it. Why? Because—what do you mean, why? As an indication. Because if I had said the opposite, then what would come out is that the statement that the Holy One, blessed be He, is good would be a definition, not a claim. Because really, “good” would just mean whatever the Holy One, blessed be He, wants. That would be the definition of good. So the statement that the Holy One, blessed be He, is good would just be an empty definition; it wouldn’t say anything. The Holy One, blessed be He, wants what He wants—yes, obvious, I know. But usually we understand the statement that the Holy One, blessed be He, is good as a claim, not a definition. What does it mean for that to be a claim? It means there is some criterion for good that is not tied to God’s command or God’s will, and now I check God’s desires and compare them to that criterion, and they match. Therefore I say—I claim, not define—that the Holy One, blessed be He, is good. That’s in relation to morality. What I want to claim is the same thing in relation to Jewish law. Also with respect to Jewish law, the claim is that the Holy One, blessed be He, did not forbid things arbitrarily, just because He felt like it. And in fact, according to the view you are presenting here, the Holy One, blessed be He, could have set Jewish law however He wanted. It becomes completely arbitrary.
[Speaker F] No, that’s not what I’m saying. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that the Holy One, blessed be He, wanted, for example—I’m giving just one example, there are many others—but say that it is forbidden to eat the meat of an animal that died on its own because the Holy One, blessed be He, wanted us to slaughter so that we would become compassionate and not abuse animals, okay? Just for the sake of the example. But that still doesn’t tell me that the meat of that sheep is now something bad—that the meat of a sheep that died on its own is something bad.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Eating the unslaughtered thing is something bad; it damages your soul.
[Speaker F] No, no, absolutely not. If I don’t perform ritual slaughter, then it
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] damages my soul.
[Speaker F] We don’t say
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] to you not to slaughter, if you’re going to eat.
[Speaker F] It’s not that the meat itself is the problem.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But is there a prohibition against not slaughtering? There’s no prohibition against not slaughtering. There’s a prohibition against eating something that wasn’t slaughtered. Right, but that prohibition stems from the thing itself, from the commandment of slaughter. That’s the prohibition, what do I care
[Speaker F] what it stems from?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, reasons for the verse? The prohibition is eating something not slaughtered, that’s the prohibition. If you ate something not slaughtered, that’s the problem, that’s the problematic thing. The fact that you didn’t slaughter interests my grandmother. Don’t slaughter—what, is there an obligation to slaughter? Don’t slaughter. The whole problem is when you eat something not slaughtered. It seems to me a simple argument. Unless you say everything is arbitrary. Fine, so I don’t think that, and I don’t think almost anyone thinks that. But okay, maybe—whoever says that will say that. Anyway, for our purposes, how did we get into all this? Is it possible
[Speaker C] It’s not that far-fetched to say something like that. There’s some Maharal along those lines—that if we say “greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does,” because the fact that you’re commanded is what connects you to the Holy One, blessed be He. So then—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t understand.
[Speaker C] No, I mean, one could also say that the Holy One, blessed be He, gives commandments in order just to increase them, in a purely arbitrary way.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, certainly, in order to connect to Him. Yes, I know, sayings like that float around in the world of thought, but almost nobody really thinks that, and I also don’t think there’s any logic in it. To me there’s no logic in that at all. What do you mean “just because”? I don’t know, it sounds irrational to me. Anyway, for our purposes—I don’t even remember how we got to this whole episode. Maybe in this context we can add—I think I also spoke about this in the past—there’s a rule that in a Torah-level doubt we rule stringently, and in a rabbinic-level doubt we rule leniently. Why really is a Torah-level doubt treated stringently and a rabbinic-level doubt leniently? Never mind, there are all kinds of indications; I’ll do it briefly here. In every Torah prohibition there are two aspects. There’s the aspect of the command, and there’s the aspect of the essence. That’s why Tosafot HaRosh and Ritva say that this is why the Talmud says: greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does. If he is commanded and does, then he is both fulfilling God’s will and also doing the right act, which is right in itself. And if he is not commanded and does, then true, he is doing a right act, and that’s a good thing, but he is not fulfilling the command. Therefore, greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does. Here, for example, is a simple illustration of the straightforward assumption of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) that clearly there is something here beyond the command itself. But once I see Torah prohibitions as prohibitions that contain both command and essence, the question arises: what happens in a situation of doubt? In a situation of doubt, I can ask myself what exactly is the reason I need to be stringent in a Torah-level doubt. One could say it’s out of concern lest I violate a command of the Holy One, blessed be He. And one could say that a prohibition is like poison. Independently of the command, there is some essential problem here, and there is a doubtful concern lest this essential problem arise, and I need to distance myself from it. Therefore, a Torah-level doubt is treated stringently. Now I can resolve this question—that is, why we are stringent in cases of doubt—if I look at a rabbinic-level doubt. In a rabbinic-level doubt we go leniently. Now why do we go leniently in a rabbinic-level doubt? After all, the command to listen to the Sages, at least according to Maimonides, is “do not deviate,” which is a Torah-level command, both a positive commandment and a prohibition. A negative commandment, right? So there is also command in the case of poultry with milk. What’s the difference? Why is that rabbinic and not Torah-level? Because it has no essence. Poultry with milk is not something harmful in itself, and therefore the Torah did not prohibit it. The Sages prohibited it lest you come to eat meat with milk. Okay? So therefore, in a rabbinic prohibition there is only the command without the essence. That’s the difference between a rabbinic-level doubt and a Torah-level doubt. Now I know that a rabbinic-level doubt is leniently treated. If the reason for stringency in Torah-level doubt were because of the command, then rabbinic doubt should also have been stringent. If in rabbinic law the doubt is lenient, then apparently the obligation to be stringent in a Torah-level doubt is not because of the command but because of the essence. And since in rabbinic law there is no essence, that is why there the doubt is lenient. Now what does that actually mean? It means that the obligation to be stringent in doubts in Torah law stems from the fact that, again as a metaphor, the prohibition is basically like poison. So leave the command aside—independently of the command, the command I can suspend, a doubtful command doesn’t bother me, because the proof is that in rabbinic law I can be lenient. But you can still stumble into a prohibition of pork. And yes, this is even according to the view that this is a standard Torah command, as Maimonides is usually understood; I’m not going into the details here—that was a correct remark. In any event, the point is that I see the prohibition as some sort of poison, and therefore I don’t want to come into contact with the poison even if there is no command. And that—that’s the point. Except what? Except that of course in rabbinic law there is no aspect of poison, only the command, and therefore there, if I’m in doubt, my whole problem is only with the command. In a case of doubt there’s no problem violating the command, because there is no certain command here. And there’s no poison here, because there is no essential problem, and therefore we are lenient. And note that of course the comparison between a Torah prohibition and poison is very limited, because the fact is we do this only in a case of doubt. But if there is a majority, I can follow it even in a Torah prohibition, even though there’s a forty-percent chance I’m stumbling into a prohibition. If it were poison, then obviously even if there were only a minority chance I wouldn’t touch it. So you can see here a prohibition attached to the object, but to define it as poison is still going too far.
[Speaker C] Also, double doubt is accepted by everyone. I can’t hear. It seems to me that with double doubt too you see that it’s not really like that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Same thing, yes. Majority, double doubt, all the places where I am lenient.
[Speaker B] Okay, so how does that fit?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, majority does fit.
[Speaker C] It fits.
[Speaker B] How does it fit that in doubt we are stringent because in Torah law there is a problem in the object itself, but with majority the object problem disappears?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What I explained earlier: that the Torah had pity on the money of the Jewish people, or on our ability to function in the world, so it says: look, if it’s an evenly balanced doubt, it is appropriate that you be stringent; if it’s a majority, I allow you to be lenient.
[Speaker B] And what about the object itself? What happens to it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Nothing. Whatever happens with the object happens. You are allowed to be lenient. The question whether the object is still harmful—that’s the dispute I mentioned earlier, whether it depends on the transgression or on the thing itself. But still, either way, the permission to be lenient is a halakhic permission. That doesn’t mean that a conscientious person still ought not to be stringent and avoid doing it. That’s a different discussion. The question is why Jewish law is lenient; as for what is truly fitting to do if you want to emerge completely clean, that’s a totally different question. There are many obligations that are beyond the letter of the law, where by the letter of the law you are not obligated, but beyond the letter of the law they still expect you to do it. This isn’t the only case. So the conceptual novelty here is not such a great novelty. In other words, there are situations where even though Jewish law permits, a conscientious person is still expected not to do it. The question whether in cases of doubt and nullification by majority that really is the case—that’s another question. I think I wouldn’t rule it out. That is, I think there is definitely logic to it. I can’t say it with certainty, but there is definitely logic to it.
[Speaker C] They also learned majority in general from a religious court and…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In a religious court there’s no choice.
[Speaker C] Right, so how can you learn such a thing from there?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You disregard the minority. What are you going to do? In a religious court either you go according to the majority or according to the minority. There’s no logic in going by the minority.
[Speaker C] Right, that’s what I’m saying. That’s why I find the Rabbi’s reasoning very difficult, because… why? Because the majority… how do you know that with majority you’re allowed? From the religious court, where you have to go by some path.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Suppose so, even though that’s only a present majority, not an absent majority, but we’ll discuss that later. But let’s say yes—so what?
[Speaker C] Here’s what I’m saying: who told you that you don’t need, that you can just not be stringent at all and not act like anybody? Maybe the Torah…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So they say that just as in a religious court, we expand this also to…
[Speaker C] Yes, but there’s no logic to do that if that’s really the picture.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s room to distinguish, and there’s room to distinguish in any case. Yes. So where do we learn an absent majority from? One of Rashi’s answers at the end of the passage in Chullin is that we learn that too from a religious court. Why? Because it’s simple—it’s a present majority and an absent majority. In any case we make an expansion from the rule…
[Speaker C] Yes, of course, but it depends what the reasoning is, it depends what the reasoning is. There’s a major lecture by Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel where he explains everything according to his logic. So what? About majority—no, he says that majority in general, he says… do you know this?—that this whole story of majority is only how it is perceived by consciousness.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] With Gedaliah Nadel, everything is in the subject. The whole world is in the subject. Not only here, not only on this issue—in general.
[Speaker C] Yes, like that…
[Speaker B] Rabbi, so again, I still haven’t been distracted from this: if there is a little dulling of the soul? About that there’s no dispute. The Rabbi agrees that still there is a little bit of dulling of the soul from this pork, right? If I am one hundred percent now eating with…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I don’t know.
[Speaker B] Again, if I eat the bug, I’m eating… there is a majority and I eat. If there’s a bug there, which is not a negligible percentage, do I dull the soul a bit, something?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying: I don’t know. It could be that if it is permitted to you, then there is protection so that it doesn’t dull. I don’t know.
[Speaker B] That’s the discussion.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the halakhic decisors regarding nursing from a non-Jewish woman, what I mentioned. The halakhic decisors discuss the question whether dulling of the soul depends on the prohibition, or whether it is bound up with the thing itself regardless…
[Speaker B] Fine, the fact that the halakhic decisors… that’s our Jewish law. The fact that the halakhic decisors discuss it doesn’t solve the problem. Here’s another example, Rabbi: if we went with the moral angle, we would understand, like Rabbi Kook, like Rabbi Berkovits, that the commandments are all morality, and there Kantian morality—or any true morality—the results aren’t important, what matters is the intention. Then everything would be solved for us. Everything, really.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] First of all, even that
[Speaker B] would fit beautifully,
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] but this thing is so far-fetched—what does it help me that it solves all the problems? It simply doesn’t even get off the ground. There’s no point discussing whether it solves the problems. It also doesn’t solve them. But even if it did solve them, what would that help? Someone who explains to me that pork is a moral prohibition, and impurity and purity are moral prohibitions, and everything—you know, that’s not an English-English dictionary, it’s an English-Turkish dictionary. In other words, you explain absurd things to me by means of things that are absurd on their face. What help are those explanations to me? In any case, for our purposes, so the…
[Speaker B] There’s also an explicit midrash that the commandments were given only to refine people, and He doesn’t care whether you slaughter from the neck or from the back of the neck.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are all kinds of Talmudic passages I can bring, right? I can bring you sources that say what I’m saying. I brought them—Ritva and Tosafot HaRosh and all those, okay? They say it pretty clearly. Anyway, so that’s regarding the poison issue; I just completed that remark. I now want two more points that come up in relation to the rules of doubt. The first point is that some of the rules are the sort that begin from some basic logic—not always very strong, but there is some basic logic—and then they generalize it in order to create an overarching rule, even in places where the original logic no longer applies. I think I brought the example of “whoever is stronger prevails” from the Rosh—I think I brought it—where he explains, there are contradictions in the Rosh on this issue, but in one place in Bava Batra chapter 3 he explains: there is that ship, a ship sailing in the river, and two people are arguing over it, and neither of them has any monetary hold, there’s no possession-status; the ship is just in the river. So the rule in such a case is “whoever is stronger prevails,” that’s what the Talmud says. So the Rosh asks: why? Because the one to whom the ship really belongs will fight more resolutely in order to win it, and therefore he will usually win, he will get the ship. In other words, he treats this rule as a rule with logic behind it. It’s not just saying, I have nothing to say here, fight it out between yourselves—that’s the accepted understanding of “whoever is stronger prevails.” The Rosh says no, it’s a rule that has logic. Now what does that mean? It’s clear that this rule isn’t really logical. That is, if one of them is really a thug—violent, intimidating, whatever exactly—and the other is the owner of the ship, he will not fight more resolutely against the thug, right? But even in such a case, the rule will apparently still be “whoever is stronger prevails.” In other words, the rule starts from some logic—in this case not even a very strong logic—but okay, I hear the argument. If you have nothing else, better than nothing—at least take something that has a little logic to it. And once you establish the rule, now that rule will apply also in those places where… but the logic is no longer there. And that is the way of various halakhic rules. There are those who explain this way perhaps also the rule of possession, although I very much doubt that that really is the explanation.
[Speaker C] I didn’t understand, Rabbi. What’s the problem with “whoever is stronger prevails”?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] First of all, the reasoning itself isn’t particularly strong, and second, there are situations where it certainly doesn’t apply. If one is a thug and the other is the owner of the ship, the thug will beat him. So what if he’s more determined?
[Speaker C] Is the Rabbi talking about “whoever is stronger prevails” according to the reasoning that the one to whom the money belongs will give his life for it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Rosh says yes. Yes. So it starts with some type of reasoning—in this case not all that strong—but after the rule is already established, then that’s the rule. Now we follow it formally. Now how do we classify this rule—is it a conduct rule or a clarification rule? It starts from some kind of clarification, but in the end it’s a conduct rule. It’s a rule that tells me what to do in a situation of doubt regardless of the question of what the truth is. But why was it established specifically this way? Because there was some underlying logic that nevertheless caused me to go with this rule.
[Speaker C] So it’s like the rationale of an ordinance versus the formal definition of an ordinance?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why is that the same thing? You mean that the formal definition applies even where the rationale doesn’t? Yes. Yes, it’s a kind of “no distinctions” principle, yes. But again, here it’s more than “no distinctions.” “No distinctions” is where there really was a genuine reason for the ordinance. Once the ordinance was established, then even in places where the rationale doesn’t apply, we say the ordinance still stands. Yes, it is forbidden to eat poultry with milk—there’s a logic to it, lest you come to eat meat with milk. But there could be a situation where on the whole continent there is no meat at all. I’m not going to come to eat meat with milk. Yes, doesn’t matter—still it is forbidden to eat poultry with milk; that’s called “no distinctions.” I’m not talking about “no distinctions”; this is a different principle. “Whoever is stronger prevails” actually is not really true even in the cases the Rosh is talking about—not completely true. It’s a weak argument, not a compelling argument. He only wants to say: after all, I needed to establish some rule for this case of the ship, that ship. Some rule. I don’t know, I could have established judicial discretion, I could have established all sorts of laws—divide it, all sorts of things like that. So the Rosh says: why do I choose specifically this rule? Not because this rule is truly clarifying and excellent in all cases. Even in the cases where it works, it’s not really an excellent rule; it’s a weak rule. But even a weak reason is enough to choose a rule if I have nothing better.
[Speaker C] So kind of arbitrary?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Well, to tell you that it’s not entirely arbitrary. There is some rationale here for why I chose this. It’s not that there is really clarification here in favor of the one who won.
[Speaker C] Yes, but the Rabbi is saying that in practice it does work on an arbitrary basis—like, we decided this is how it goes, so that’s how it goes?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We simply had to decide somehow. So instead of drawing lots over which rule to choose, I use some particular logic that stands behind this rule—some specific logic—and therefore I chose it. But that doesn’t really mean that every time two people run and one wins and gets the ship, he is truly the original owner. The Rosh doesn’t mean to say that either. And therefore this is an example of a rule that begins with some basic logic in it, but in the end it is a conduct rule, not a clarification rule. The logic only tells me why they chose specifically this rule. Some rule had to be established; there has to be order. So why did they choose this rule rather than one of a thousand other rules? So I have some logic to explain it to you. Some rule had to be established—what can you do? So that little bit of logic is enough to establish it. Therefore, for example, a migo is not used to extract property, right? Yet it is clear that if neither side is in possession and one side has a migo, then the migo does help. Why does it help? It’s not really strong enough evidence, because the proof is that it cannot extract from someone in possession. Right? But if I have to decide between two people where neither is in possession, to whom should I give the money? The migo is good enough to say that one has the edge. In other words, he is a little more right than the other. So let’s give him the money. Okay? Because a small reason is enough to decide an evenly balanced doubt. So that doesn’t mean I have resolved it and now I know that this is the truth. That is the first remark. There are those who explain possession this way too, tying it to the presumption that what is in a person’s hand is his, even though that presumption does not really exist in possessors. I think I spoke about that too at some point. And so on—there are various examples. That is the first remark. For example—and this really is already more connected to “no distinctions”—another example: what happens if I have a piece of meat that I found in the market, and in the town there are ten stores, nine kosher and one non-kosher? By strict law we follow the majority of stores. What if the non-kosher store is enormous—a huge supermarket—with much more meat than all nine of the other stores combined? That is a dispute among the halakhic decisors. There are decisors who claim that we still follow the majority of stores. And once again, the statistical logic would seem to say not that way; after all, what matters is how much meat there is, not how many stores there are. But they say yes—once we established following the majority, now it has already become a conduct rule, and now we apply it even in places where the logic of majority doesn’t really exist. But here I think it really is close to the concept of “no distinctions.” It’s not exactly similar to the examples I brought earlier, because here in the ordinary case where the stores have more or less the same amount of meat, then majority really is a clarifying rule. There there really is such a logic; it’s not a weak argument, it’s a good argument. Okay? It’s just true that I then also apply it in places where that logic doesn’t really exist because I use “no distinctions.” So that really is “no distinctions.” Earlier, in the examples I brought, my claim was that it is not “no distinctions”; even in places where the reasoning exists, it is weak reasoning. It’s not only that I extend it to places beyond the places of the reasoning; even in the places where the reasoning exists, it is weak. Only what? A weak argument is enough to establish something if I have no other criterion by which to establish it. Okay? So it’s not exactly the same thing. That is the first principle: there are conduct rules whose foundation lies in clarification. The second principle is that many times the rules of doubt establish some rule, some arbitrary line. There is logic behind things, but somewhere you have to draw the line. And where we draw the line is arbitrary. Let me give an example. There is a rule in the Talmud that says: a girl of three, her virginity returns. Yes, meaning a girl up to age three, if her hymen was torn—whether through intercourse or by injury or whatever, but the hymen was torn—so long as she is very young, if she is under three, it will return and heal. Yes, her virginity returns. If she passed age three, then no—if the hymen was torn, it will remain torn; it no longer returns and heals. In the Jerusalem Talmud, Ketubot, and in other places, the Jerusalem Talmud says: what happens if the religious court intercalated the year? A girl of three, whose virginity was torn when she was three years and a week old, and this was in the month of Nisan, and then the religious court intercalates the year and it becomes Adar II. Now the question is: now she is less than three—so will her virginity return or not? So the Jerusalem Talmud brings the verse, “God who completes for me,” a verse from Psalms, from here that what the religious court determines is what determines reality. Meaning, if the religious court determined that she is not yet three, then her virginity returns. And the Shakh expands on this in the Tur… the Shakh here in section 189 in Yoreh De’ah says as follows. There it is discussing establishing a woman’s menstrual cycle. There is a monthly cycle, and the monthly cycle depends on the date. Now the date can shift if the religious court intercalates the month, right? So what happens with women’s cycles? So the Jewish law establishes that there is also a monthly cycle, meaning it is determined by the actual date, not by what should have been, but by the actual date. As it is written: “which you shall proclaim them,” “which you shall proclaim them at their appointed times”—so too with bodily renewals. And as the Sages expounded, this is the Jerusalem Talmud in Ketubot: “God who completes for me.” A minor girl of three years and one day who had relations—her virginity does not return. If the religious court counted and intercalated the year, her virginity returns. That is “God who completes for me,” end quote. And this is in the Jerusalem Talmud, chapter HaMadir, in the name of Rabbi Avin. And so too wrote the Rosh: in the case of a woman, the matter depends on the shofar. And thus we say at the end of the chapter Bnot Kutim, etc. Never mind, he brings more sources here. What is he really saying? He understands from this Jerusalem Talmud that what the religious court determines actually changes natural reality, changes the laws of nature. If the religious court intercalated the year, then the girl is suddenly no longer three according to the court’s years, so her virginity will return. That would change her physiology. And this indeed is constantly on the lips of various preachers and the like; they so enjoy bringing this Jerusalem Talmud and showing that everything is in the hands of our holy Sages and what they determine determines reality. Yes—nonsense.
[Speaker C] Is the virginity there something purely physiological, or is it like intercourse that gives a finger in the eye, so to speak?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Purely physiological. The virginity returns—the hymen heals.
[Speaker E] Why?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now this is of course nonsense,
[Speaker E] if one says that this was the intention of the Sages. Her halakhic status is what determines it. After all, we find the trick that appears somewhere, that Rabban Gamliel seated women of doubtful virginity versus non-virginity on a barrel of wine. Meaning there is no physiological claim here; it’s her halakhic status. So the gynecologist said one thing, so let’s say she was injured by wood; the gynecologist said otherwise—the status is determined. Right.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I completely agree. Clearly that is nonsense. The claim of the Jerusalem Talmud—I don’t know, regarding the Shakh there may be room to discuss—but in the Jerusalem Talmud I have no doubt that he does not mean that. I don’t know, and if he did mean that, then he is mistaken. What I think needs to be said here is that there is a halakhic status. Just think about a girl. It is obviously not true that at age three, for all girls—forget the religious court and everything—at age three, let’s say there is no religious court, the years just pass as they pass—is it really logical that for all girls at exactly the same age their physiology is such that the hymen stops returning? Isn’t it far more logical that there are girls for whom it happens at two years and ten months, girls for whom it happens at three, three and a month, three and a half? There is some distribution and an average, or I don’t know, some line that passes at age three, around age three. Except what? Halakhically, we obviously have no way to determine it. We don’t know how to test it. So what do we do? We set an arbitrary line and we say: halakhically, up to age three her virginity returns; from age three onward, it does not. This is not a scientific determination. It is a halakhic determination that from this point on the virginity does not return. Because it is also obvious that this is not—leave aside the Shakh and the Jerusalem Talmud—even just ordinarily, without religious court and without anything, it is obvious that it is not true that for all girls their physiology happens in exactly the same way to the second: midnight arrives on the day of the three years and—boom—their membrane suddenly becomes strong and no longer returns. What kind of nonsense is that? So obviously that is not true. So then what is this age of three? What is this basic presumption that a girl of three, her virginity returns? Obviously it is a halakhic presumption. Halakhically, we say the line passes at age three. That is the claim. Now what? If it really is a line—one second—if it really is a line, then now when the religious court intercalated the year, the question becomes not physiological but halakhic. How are we, halakhically, to relate to such a girl? So the Jerusalem Talmud says: we relate to it according to the age determined by the religious court. Why? Because in terms of halakhic and legal efficiency, that is obviously much more efficient. I ask her how old she is, and according to that I determine the law. I don’t start thinking, wait, what would have happened before the court and without the court, and making all kinds of calculations. I look at the date—on the date… she is not yet three, so her virginity returns. That’s all. But that is not a factual scientific determination; it is a ruling about how I should relate to this presumption when the religious court intercalated the year. Since the line is arbitrary anyway, there is no problem at all determining that the line will be the halakhic line. That’s perfectly fine; no problem. But to try to derive from here that reality depends on the determination of the religious court—that sounds bizarre to me. Yes.
[Speaker B] So then why not set it at thirty-six months? Fine, right, it’s a halakhic determination.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] One could have discussed it that way, one could have discussed it that way. So the Jerusalem Talmud says—I think it should be done according to the determination of the religious court. Fine. It brings a verse from Psalms; that needs to be understood. “God who completes for me” is a verse from Psalms, not a verse from the Torah. Obviously.
[Speaker C] But think, Rabbi—let’s say these virginities really had practical significance even for Sabbath. Right. Yes, whether it is permitted to have intercourse, which is what the Talmud discusses there on Sabbath, with a virgin—in Ketubot, yes—it’s very hard to say, what, what difference does her halakhic status make? At the end of the day it tears, at the end of the day it…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But you need to determine halakhically what the line is from which onward this is forbidden. You can’t know; you have no way to determine it. You have no scientific way to test it.
[Speaker C] So if you have no scientific way to test it, fine—and if now it turns out and I know, like, we can see she has no virginity?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Then we return to the question of making an error under authorization of a religious court, yes? Which is really the very beginning of the class. Yes. Like a religious court that ruled she may marry, and then the husband shows up—yes? The slain one comes walking in on his own feet.
[Speaker C] Fine. So the Rabbi is saying that this whole Jerusalem Talmud is only on the basis that we have no way to clarify it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. The question is what halakhic ruling we give—that’s all. There’s nothing here… whether the virginity returns in such a case or not, that is a question of what the halakhic ruling will be in such a situation. There is no scientific question here; it has nothing to do with the girl’s physiology. Even the presumption itself that a girl of three, her virginity returns—by itself, without the Jerusalem Talmud, without a religious court, without anything—that too is not a scientific determination. Scientifically, there is some distribution perhaps around age three, let’s say, assuming that the Sages were in fact correct; I have no idea. But even if so, then it is a distribution around age three, so they established age three as some kind of line—since you have to set the threshold somewhere, they set it at age three. Okay? That’s all.
[Speaker B] But still, doesn’t the Jerusalem Talmud mislead us a little? It could have said what the Rabbi is saying, which is very logical.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why mislead us?
[Speaker B] As though reality is changed by the religious court?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, that’s what it said. We view reality through the perspective of the religious court. That is the… We are not judging reality itself; we are judging reality according to the perspective of the religious court. Why? Because that is the halakhic rule, not because reality changed. Again—and if the Jerusalem Talmud thinks otherwise, then in my opinion it is mistaken. The law would not change, the law would not change, because halakhically you can still act this way even though it is not the factual truth.
[Speaker B] There’s kind of a feeling that in the Jerusalem Talmud there’s a sort of postmodernist flavor. That reality-truth—not factual reality—is basically determined by our consciousness when we look at it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I didn’t understand. So I’m asking you: what really happens with the virginity? Not a postmodern flavor. What postmodern? What happens in reality with the virginity? Does it return or not? So there too there are two correct answers.
[Speaker B] The Tannaim saw demons; they saw according to… they spoke with them. And Maimonides says, no, you didn’t see any demons. But they saw demons. In their perception, in their epistemology, they saw demons.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what determines it.
[Speaker B] What in reality did they
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] see—so what’s the problem, I don’t understand?
[Speaker B] What interests us is what our consciousness tells us, and our consciousness is what we decide.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Our consciousness tells us nothing about the hymen. I have no idea, and nobody else has any idea either. We need to establish a halakhic line, that’s all. It has nothing to do with consciousnesses. We need to establish a halakhic line, and the halakhic line is set according to the determination of the religious court.
[Speaker B] That’s all. Fine, I understand the explanation. I said that… it seems
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To me it’s extremely simple. There are no difficulties here that require us to go looking for answers. It’s clear, it’s simple. That’s the first remark. The second remark—or not the second remark, but the second example—there’s an interesting dispute… wait… there’s an interesting dispute about “give dew and rain,” and I assume some of you probably know this. Right? If we… if time has passed… if someone prayed and doesn’t know whether he mentioned it correctly or not. So if thirty days have passed, if thirty days have passed, then he can assume that by now he is saying it correctly, that he’s already gotten used to it. Okay? That’s what the Talmud says, and Maharam of Rothenburg… the Talmud says—sorry, the Tur. Tur, Orach Chaim 114. Maharam of Rothenburg was accustomed to say on Shemini Atzeret… the blessing “You are mighty” ninety times, up to “who causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall,” corresponding to the thirty days in which one says it three times each day. And then, if he was in doubt, he would not need to repeat it. What does that mean? Maharam of Rothenburg says: forget waiting thirty days and remaining in doubt throughout all those thirty days. Let’s say “give dew and rain for blessing” ninety times on Shemini Atzeret, and then we’re set. Because after we’ve said it ninety times, we can already be sure that we’re saying it correctly, and already at the evening prayer after Shemini Atzeret we can relax and not get entangled in the laws of doubt. And his proof—Maharam of Rothenburg and his proof, yes?—and his proof is from the chapter “How the foot causes damage,” where it says regarding an ox forewarned for goring: if it spaced out its gorings, it is liable; if it concentrated its gorings, all the more so. So too here: since after thirty days, if he is in doubt, he does not need to repeat, then all the more so after ninety times in one day. There is a tannaitic dispute about what happens if a forewarned ox gores three times on the same day. So Rabbi Meir says that if it spaced out its gorings—that is, it gored on three consecutive days—then it becomes forewarned. So if it gores three times in one day, then certainly it becomes forewarned. That’s what he says. So Maharam of Rothenburg says: if so, the same thing applies here. If over thirty days, in which I have ninety prayers, I said “give dew and rain” and got used to it, then if I say it ninety times in one day, then certainly I get used to it. And Rabbi Rabbeinu Peretz, of blessed memory, wrote: I did not see the elder rabbis of France—meaning the Tosafot masters—doing this. Well, the fact that we didn’t see them doing it doesn’t mean they disagreed with it, but apparently he understood that they did disagree with it. For the case under discussion is not comparable to the proof. There, the reason is that the ox has established itself as a gorer, and if it established itself through three gorings spread out, then all the more so through three close together. But rain, which was instituted in prayer, and the matter depends on habitual speech, we do not say so. And my master and father, the Rosh, of blessed memory, was inclined toward the reasoning of Maharam. His student, so that’s not much of a surprise.
So Rabbeinu Peretz argues: what kind of proof are you bringing me from an ox’s gorings to “give dew and rain for blessing”? There are several explanations of this among the later authorities (Acharonim). The favorite explanation in the yeshivot—the favorite and the incorrect one in the yeshivot—is that the dispute between Rabbeinu Peretz and Maharam of Rothenburg is about how we understand the process by which an ox becomes forewarned. One can understand that after the ox gores three times, it gets used to being a gorer, and it becomes forewarned. And one can understand that if it gored three times, that is an indication that it has had a goring nature from birth; only after it gored three times can I know that this is its nature. In short: are the three gorings habituation or evidence? Okay, that’s the argument.
Now, Maharam of Rothenburg, who brings proof from the forewarned ox to “give dew and rain,” apparently understood that the forewarned ox is habituation. After three times that it gores, it has gotten used to it and become a gorer. It became a gorer. And then he says: if so, then here too, after ninety times that we said “give dew and rain for blessing,” we have gotten used to it, and now we have acquired the nature of saying “give dew and rain for blessing.” Therefore it really is comparable. And if concentrated gorings are stronger than spaced gorings, then the same should also apply to “give dew and rain for blessing.”
By contrast, Maharam of Rothenburg understands—this is what the later authorities say. They’re wrong, it’s the opposite, but that’s what they say—that Maharam… that Rabbeinu Peretz argues: how is this comparable? Why not? Because when the ox gores three times, that is evidence that it has a goring nature. It is not habituation to become a gorer. Rather, after it gored three times, it became clear to me that it had always been a gorer. It was always a gorer. The three gorings are evidence, not habituation. So if that’s the case, what proof can you bring from there to “give dew and rain for blessing”? In “give dew and rain for blessing,” the question is whether I became accustomed. So if the gorings serve as evidence—and close together are more evidentiary than when they are spread out—how can you learn from here that habituation also happens better when it is done densely? What connection is there between habituation and evidence? One should not compare one to the other. Okay, so that is the claim.
Now, I’m not going to do all the calculations here, because it’s a big accounting, but in truth it is exactly the opposite. Maharam of Rothenburg argues that this is evidence, and Rabbeinu Peretz argues that this is habituation. And that’s obvious; anyone who argues with that is simply mistaken in the analysis. But that takes a bit of time, and this isn’t the place for it.
What interests me in this context is that… in the Talmud itself, in many places, presumptions of three times are brought. For example, there is the presumption regarding land: after three years in which I harvested fruit and you did not protest, that is evidence that I bought the field from you. Even though you are the original owner, I can acquire the field. One of the possibilities the Talmud brings at the beginning of the chapter Chezkat HaBatim is to learn this from a forewarned ox. Three years is like three gorings of an ox. In the Talmud in Yevamot, for example, it continues regarding what happens with a woman whose three children died because of circumcision. They circumcised the first child and he died, they circumcised the second child and he also died, they circumcised the third child and he also died—the fourth child should not be circumcised. There is a presumption that the children of this woman apparently die if they are circumcised. So after three times that this happened, don’t circumcise the fourth child. Okay? And so on. There are various cases. Menstrual cycles, for example—what we saw earlier in the Shakh—the establishment of a woman’s menstrual cycle after three times that it occurs on the same date or at the same interval, then she acquires a fixed cycle, and that too is essentially a presumption of three times. There are many presumptions of three times.
Now, there is a very long Kehillot Yaakov in Taharot, section 47, where he discusses whether these presumptions of three times are habituation or evidence. For each of them one can discuss whether it is habituation or evidence. Now it turns out, in the whole analysis—I no longer remember all the details there—some of them can be debated, some of them are very clear that they are habituation or evidence, and one cannot argue. And somehow the Talmud compares one to the other. There is Rabbi and the Sages—whether a presumption is created after two times or after three times—and they compare this regarding all presumptions of three times: according to Rabbi, after two times; according to Rabban Gamliel, after three times. Now what is the connection? There are presumptions that are habituation and presumptions that are evidence—so what are you comparing? What room is there to compare them? And here it is already clear that there are such presumptions, some of them habituation and some of them evidence, and nevertheless they are compared. For example, even if I accept here the dispute between Rabbeinu Peretz and Maharam of Rothenburg regarding the forewarned ox—whether it is habituation or evidence—okay? The Talmud in Bava Batra compares it to the presumption of three years. Now, the presumption of three years is clearly not habituation—he did not become used to not protesting—but rather evidence. After three times that he does not protest, it is clear that he in fact sold me the field, right? There it is clearly evidence. So how will one explain the similarity that the Talmud makes? The Talmud compares it to the forewarned ox. Someone who holds that the forewarned ox is habituation and not evidence—how will he explain this comparison in the Talmud? After all, the Talmud compares one to the other.
My answer is that of course one can compare habituation to evidence. And why? As I said about a three-year-old girl whose hymen returns—three times are not really evidence. If it happened once, that is weak evidence; if it happened twice, better evidence; if it happened three times, better evidence still; four, five, six times is better and better, right? There is never certainty, but the evidence gets better the more repetitions there are, the more recurrences. Okay? They placed the line after three times. Why? Because from a halakhic standpoint you have to set the line somewhere, so they said the line passes after three times. They learn it, let’s say, from the forewarned ox, where the Torah itself says “from yesterday and the day before,” so that is three times, and therefore they learn from there that the line passes after three times. But clearly that line is an arbitrary line. It’s not that after three times it is obvious that it is forewarned, and after two times it is obvious that it is innocuous. No. There is concern that it is forewarned; after three times it is strong enough for me to determine that it is already forewarned. Okay?
So regarding both habituation and evidence, it is clear that there is no sanctity to the number three. They set an arbitrary threshold or line and say: from three times on, for me this is good enough. Now, clearly there are places where the three times bring you to forty percent certainty, and there are places where after three times you reach seventy percent. It is obviously not the same percentage every time in every context. In Niddah, and in the forewarned ox, and in children who died because of circumcision, and in the presumption regarding land, and in “give dew and rain for blessing”—what, in every place each time it happened it adds twenty percent? So after three times it’s sixty percent? Really, in all these contexts every time it happened adds twenty percent? There is no logic to that. So why did they establish three times? Because you need to set some arbitrary line, right? So if they already set an arbitrary line in presumptions of evidence, why should they not set that same arbitrary line also in presumptions of habituation? After all, in either case it is an arbitrary line. The whole question is how Jewish law tells us to relate to these cases; it is not a factual question, it is a halakhic question. Therefore there is no problem at all comparing a presumption of evidence to a presumption of habituation. Because if we determine that the line is after three times, then that is the line both for a presumption of evidence and for a presumption of habituation. Because that is the line, not because that is the truth. It is not a factual determination. It is a halakhic determination.
Exactly like a three-year-old girl whose hymen returns, where I set the line after three years, and then her hymen stops returning. It happens a bit before, a bit after; every girl is different. But you have to set some line. And the later authorities who get involved here and discuss this—and there is enormous length among the later authorities—and they get tangled up in it and remain with it requiring further analysis: how can one compare presumption and habituation to this, and give dialectical distinctions and answers—all of that doesn’t even get off the ground. It is the same mistake as the Shakh there, regarding a three-year-old girl whose hymen returns. The determination here is not a factual determination; there is no point in discussing it as though it were a factual determination. It is a halakhic determination, and once halakhically we determine that the line is three times, that will be true both for a presumption of habituation and for a presumption of evidence.
Okay, so up to this point I’ve just illustrated two principles regarding presumptions, regarding rules, rules of doubt, which I said I divided into rules of decision, clarification, and conduct. I said that the first remark was that there are rules of conduct that begin from some degree of clarification, like “whoever is stronger prevails.” And here I am saying that there are rules of conduct that have a logic of clarification, but the threshold—how much clarification is needed to make the decision—is an arbitrary threshold. Where do I place the threshold? When is the clarification already sufficient? That is an arbitrary threshold. And therefore one can call it a rule of conduct, even though at its foundation there is a principle of clarification. There is logic in it; it is not an arbitrary rule. But still, the line—how much logic is needed in order to make the decision—is indeed an arbitrary line. Therefore one must be very careful about taking the logic underlying these rules too far, discussing all these rules according to the logic at their basis, and then trying to see where to apply that and where not. These rules often begin from some kind of logic, but afterward Jewish law comes and shapes them into some form, a formal shape that can be worked with. Okay, so that’s it for now. Any comment or question? Fine, if not, then Sabbath peace. Sabbath
[Speaker B] peace.