חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם

The Receiver Chapter – Lesson 26

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

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

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • The plain meaning of the Talmudic text and Rashi versus Tosafot and the other medieval authorities
  • The Rashba: an attempt to show there is no theft here, and the difficulty with it
  • Spillover between Yoreh De’ah and Choshen Mishpat, and the dispute over its boundaries
  • The Rosh: “with the intention of exempting himself from payment” and the tension with life-threatening danger
  • Tosafot versus the Rosh: formulating the question as an obligation to pay versus permission to act
  • The Tur and the Shulchan Arukh: copying the phrase “with the intention to pay” as books of Jewish law
  • Responsa Binyan Tzion: “be killed rather than transgress” in interpersonal offenses in the Choshen Mishpat sense
  • Rabbi Shimon Shkop and the Maharibas”an: “the law of justice” as the foundation of monetary law
  • Choshen Mishpat as rights versus Yoreh De’ah as duties, and Hohfeld’s table
  • Explaining Rashi’s view: life-threatening danger overrides prohibitions but does not cancel rights
  • A discussion of commitment to law versus morality, and the example of Zimri and Pinchas
  • Summary of the direction and what comes next

Summary

General Overview

The lecture examines the passage in Bava Kamma 60a about someone who saves himself using another person’s property. In the plain meaning of the Talmudic text and in Rashi, it sounds as though a person may not save himself at the expense of another’s property, and only a king has a special dispensation. Tosafot, the Rashba, and other medieval authorities reject that understanding, since theft is not one of the three sins for which one must be killed rather than transgress, and they explain that one may save himself but must pay, even though their view carries a certain interpretive and conceptual price. The lecture then sharpens the tension in the wording of the Rosh, the Tur, and the Shulchan Arukh: “that he should take it only with the intention of paying,” and discusses what “with the intention” means and what the law would be if the rescuer is poor and unable to pay. Finally, a conceptual framework is proposed for understanding Rashi through a distinction between a halakhic obligation that is overridden by life-threatening danger and the legal rights of another person, which are not overridden in the same way, drawing on Rabbi Shimon Shkop, “the law of justice,” and the language of rights and duties.

The Plain Meaning of the Talmudic Text and Rashi versus Tosafot and the Other Medieval Authorities

In the previous lecture it was presented that the plain meaning of the Talmudic text in the chapter HaKones on page 60 seems to prohibit a person from saving himself with another person’s property, except for a king, who has a special dispensation, and this is apparently also how Rashi understood the Talmudic text. Tosafot, the Rashba, and the other medieval authorities disagree and explain that theft is not among the sins for which one must be killed rather than transgress, and therefore the instruction is that someone who saved himself using another person’s property must pay, but there is no prohibition in the rescue itself. The lecture emphasizes that each approach has its “price”: with Rashi, the price is extending the category of “be killed rather than transgress,” while with Tosafot and those who follow them, the price is that there is a side in the Talmudic discussion implying that if it were permitted to save oneself, then it would also be “permitted” not to pay.

The Rashba: An Attempt to Show There Is No Theft Here, and the Difficulty with It

In the Rashba’s responsum, it seems that he explains the permission to use another person’s property for rescue by saying that this is not theft, because the owner of the property himself would have had to give up his property in order to save the pursued person. The lecture presents a sharp difficulty with this reasoning and distinguishes between a commandment imposed on a person in the realm of Yoreh De’ah and a legal obligation in Choshen Mishpat based on the other person’s right to sue or to act on his own behalf. The example of charity is brought, where the obligation of the wealthy person to give does not create a right for the poor person to take. The discussion then branches into the laws of gifts to the poor, unconscious despair of recovery, and benefit-rights, with the suggestion that later authorities explain that gifts to the poor are “the property of the tribe of the poor.”

Spillover Between Yoreh De’ah and Choshen Mishpat, and the Dispute Over Its Boundaries

A claim is presented that the two domains sometimes spill into one another, and where there is a social or Torah-based agreement that from the outset a person does not have full ownership of the money, this may also be reflected in Choshen Mishpat. Against this it is argued that such spillover is possible only if the Torah or a mechanism such as court-enacted confiscation actually defines it that way, not by private reasoning. The lecture uses this discussion to deepen the understanding of why, according to the Rashba, the claim “he is obligated to give” does not necessarily turn taking into something non-theft, and why the very fact that the Rashba feels the need to prove that there is no theft hints that in principle he is close to Rashi: if it really were theft, it might indeed be forbidden.

The Rosh: “With the Intention of Exempting Himself from Payment” and the Tension with Life-Threatening Danger

The Rosh explains that the question in the Talmudic text is not whether one may save oneself, because “nothing stands in the way of life-threatening danger except three sins,” but whether one may burn the stacks “with the intention of exempting himself from payment.” His answer is that one may not save himself with another person’s property “with the intention of exempting himself,” but should save himself and pay. The wording makes it sound as though the act is permitted only within a framework of intending to pay. The lecture raises the difficulty that this makes the Rosh seem to limit the overriding of prohibition in the face of life-threatening danger in a way that brings him back somewhat toward Rashi, and suggests that the law might become even sharper in the case of a poor person who cannot pay.

Tosafot versus the Rosh: Formulating the Question as an Obligation to Pay versus Permission to Act

Tosafot formulate the question as whether one is obligated to pay after saving himself from life-threatening danger, not whether one is permitted to save himself. The lecture notes that for Tosafot the wording of the Talmudic text is difficult, since it speaks in terms of what is “permitted” and “forbidden,” whereas the Rosh gains a linguistic fit by speaking about permission or prohibition to save oneself “with the intention” not to pay. Within this, a dispute develops over whether for the Rosh this is merely a way of wording things in order to “sustain the language of the Talmudic text,” or whether it is a principled claim assigning halakhic weight to intention at the moment of the act. The discussion illustrates this by comparison to a “sin committed for the sake of Heaven” and to the question whether circumstances permit an act even when the intention is not for the sake of Heaven.

The Tur and the Shulchan Arukh: Copying the Phrase “With the Intention to Pay” as Books of Jewish Law

The Tur writes: “Even if he is in mortal danger and comes to rob his fellow in order to save his life, he may not rob unless it is with the intention to pay,” and immediately adds that certainly life-threatening danger overrides, and therefore he may take in order to save his life, “but he should take it only with the intention of paying.” The Shulchan Arukh uses similar wording: “he must take it only with the intention of paying,” and this is presented as especially strange wording, because these are books of Jewish law that are supposed to present the law clearly and not lean on strained readings of Talmudic language. On the other hand, it is argued that they copied the wording of earlier authorities and generally refrain from changing it, but the lecture emphasizes that a reader could understand it plainly to mean that taking is forbidden when one lacks the “intention to pay.”

Responsa Binyan Tzion: “Be Killed Rather than Transgress” in Interpersonal Offenses in the Choshen Mishpat Sense

The lecture presents the view of Responsa Binyan Tzion (the Arukh LaNer), who argues systematically that a person must give up his life rather than commit offenses between one person and another, relying in part on the Talmudic statement in Sotah: “It is better for a person to throw himself into a fiery furnace than to humiliate his fellow publicly.” The lecture criticizes Tosafot there, who try to turn humiliation into an accessory of murder, and argues that there is no necessity to interpret that aggadic statement as a legal instruction. But it suggests that the Binyan Tzion does not mean all interpersonal commandments; rather, he means offenses that belong to Choshen Mishpat, that is, violations of another person’s right. Humiliation is described as an injury to the right to honor, which entails payment for shame as one of the five categories of damages, and therefore belongs to a structure of monetary rights and not merely to a moral-religious command.

Rabbi Shimon Shkop and the Maharibas”an: “The Law of Justice” as the Foundation of Monetary Law

The lecture brings the Maharibas”an’s question why “a doubt regarding theft is treated leniently,” in the sense that the burden of proof lies on the one seeking to extract property from another, and sharpens the point especially in a case of definite claim versus uncertain claim where the current holder himself is uncertain. Rabbi Shimon Shkop, in Gate 5, explains that monetary law does not work like the rest of the commandments of the Torah, because before God’s command to pay or return can apply, a “legal obligation” must first exist. He proves this from the fact that even when a minor steals, he can be compelled to return it. According to his view, the prohibition of “Do not steal” is an additional layer of religious command built on top of a prior legal system that determines the reality of ownership and rights. Therefore, when the legal system rules that the money remains with the current holder, there is not even a doubt about a religious prohibition that would require stringency. The lecture notes that according to this, even if “stealing from a gentile” is not forbidden by Torah law according to some views, the object still does not become the thief’s, because ownership is determined on the legal plane.

Choshen Mishpat as Rights versus Yoreh De’ah as Duties, and Hohfeld’s Table

A fundamental distinction is presented according to which, in Choshen Mishpat, my duty toward another person is grounded in that person’s right against me, similar to Hohfeld’s table, which pairs a right with a duty. By contrast, in Yoreh De’ah there are duties that do not create a right of legal claim for the other person, such as charity, where the poor person has no right to receive money from me, and interest, where there is a discourse of obligation to return but not necessarily a right of legal claim. This distinction is presented as the key to understanding why the claim “he is obligated to give” does not necessarily translate into permission for the poor person or the pursued person to take, and why there is a difference between commandments imposed on the person and a structure of legal rights.

Explaining Rashi’s View: Life-Threatening Danger Overrides Prohibitions but Does Not Cancel Rights

An explanation is proposed for Rashi’s view, according to which life-threatening danger overrides prohibitions imposed on the person, but does not nullify another person’s legal rights in his property. According to this, “Do not steal” as a religious command can be overridden by life-threatening danger, but there still remains a “first layer” of the law of justice in which the property belongs to its owner, and the rescuer has no mandate to decide about it even when his life is in danger. The lecture describes this as a normative “territorial” barrier, where the decision about using the money remains entrusted to the owner, and only if the owner waives it can he “cancel his right.” Within this framework it is said that even those who disagree with Rashi may accept the rights-structure but argue that life-threatening danger permits even infringement of rights, whereas Rashi holds that rights are not overridden in that way.

A Discussion of Commitment to Law versus Morality, and the Example of Zimri and Pinchas

A debate develops over whether something that is “legally forbidden” is still binding even when the act seems morally justified, and the claim is raised that there is importance in preserving the rules of law themselves and in having proper mandate to make decisions about what is not in a person’s own “territory.” An example is brought from Zimri and Pinchas based on Klei Chemdah, according to which Zimri could have killed Pinchas under the law of a pursuer, even though he could have “saved himself through one of his limbs,” that is, by ceasing the sin, because he had no obligation to stop sinning in a way that would remove Pinchas’s status as a pursuer. An analogy is also brought to someone who threatens, “Give me a shekel or I’ll kill you,” as justification for saying that the victim is not obligated to give the shekel, and therefore may act first to save himself even at the cost of undercutting the formal validity of the threatener’s demand. The discussion serves to sharpen the claim that there is a distinction between the substantive justice of a decision and the question of who is authorized to make it, and in Rashi’s context, the decision over another person’s property does not pass to the rescuer even under life-threatening danger.

Summary of the Direction and What Comes Next

The lecture concludes that the structure of rights in Choshen Mishpat explains how Rashi can be understood without turning theft into a grave offense because of its severity, but rather because another person’s rights are not nullified by someone else’s life-threatening danger. The lecture notes that medieval authorities who disagree may still accept the structure while disputing the conclusion about override, and it is emphasized that even the Binyan Tzion regarding public humiliation rests on a similar idea of entrusting the decision to the right-holder. The lecture stops at this point, with the comment that the completion will come next time.

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Let’s begin. In the previous lecture we looked at the passage in the chapter HaKones there on page 60 about someone who saves himself using another person’s property, and the claim is that in the plain meaning of the Talmudic text it seems forbidden for a person to save himself with another person’s property, except for a king, because a king has a special dispensation. And that’s apparently also how Rashi understood the Talmudic text. But Tosafot and the Rashba and the other medieval authorities straightforwardly disagree with him, and they say it’s not reasonable that theft should be one of the severe sins for which a person must be killed rather than transgress. So they explain that what the Talmudic text is saying is that if you saved yourself using another person’s property, then you have to pay, but that doesn’t mean it’s forbidden. All right, someone disappeared on me—David and someone else. Are you on without cameras? There was someone else here before who disappeared.

[Speaker B] Okay,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Is that S.M.?

[Speaker B] Who’s S.M.?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No camera? At long last we’ve reached the end of the semester. Okay. In any case, that’s the approach of the other medieval authorities, and I said that each of these approaches has its price. With Rashi, the price is of course obvious: apparently another sin has been added here to the category of severe sins for which one must die rather than transgress. But Tosafot and his camp also pay a certain interpretive price, because according to them it comes out that there was a side in the Talmudic discussion according to which, if you used another person’s property in order to save yourself, you would not have to pay him. In the conclusion it’s forbidden for a person to save himself in that way, and therefore he can pay—but on the conceptual level, I mean there was a side in the Talmudic text that a person is allowed to do it, which would mean allowed in the sense that he wouldn’t have to pay. We talked a bit about the conceptual difficulty, the difficulty in the wording, and so on. I also mentioned another point: in the Rashba’s responsum it somewhat sounds like he agrees in principle with Rashi’s view that theft is a severe sin for which one must be killed rather than transgress, because he explains there why it’s actually permitted for you to use another person’s property in order to save yourself—because there is no theft here, since the owner of the property himself would have had to give up his property in order to protect me, and therefore I too can take it from him, and that is not called theft. Now, I said that this is a very difficult explanation, because the fact that he is obligated to give it to me does not mean I’m allowed to take it. A poor person too—there’s a commandment to give charity, but that does not mean he is allowed to take the charity from me. There’s a difference between a commandment imposed on me in Yoreh De’ah and a Choshen Mishpat obligation whose basis is your right, so that you can sue me or take from me or act on your own behalf. Nobody would think to say that the poor person can take the law into his own hands and take the money from the rich person. Why not? Because the fact that the rich person is obligated to give him the money is not a right that the poor person has to receive the money; it’s an obligation on the rich person, or a commandment on the rich person, to give him the money. That’s his own business, whether he fulfills the commandment or not. Your rights don’t exist here, they aren’t being violated here, so you can neither sue him in religious court nor take the law into your own hands.

[Speaker C] There are places where it does seem that you can, though. With gifts to the poor, for example—regarding gifts to the poor, there’s a Talmudic passage involving despair, unconscious despair, where it sounds like you can take.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Regarding gifts to the poor in Bava Metzia, you can see this in several places, but indeed the later authorities explain that in gifts to the poor this is called the property of the tribe of the poor, and then it’s a bit different, because then at least as a representative of the tribe—or even there you still somehow have to work out how a particular poor person is allowed to take it.

[Speaker C] That’s true, but I’m just saying that the fact that the poor person can’t sue me still doesn’t prove that it isn’t his, because really there’s the argument that I still have the right to choose which poor person, and that’s what he can’t take away from me. The discretionary benefit. Right, but it could be that if there were only one poor person, he really could sue me for it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But it’s obvious that this is true in the simple sense across the whole distinction between Yoreh De’ah and Choshen Mishpat.

[Speaker C] No, fine, but I’m saying that you can argue for this distinction between Yoreh De’ah and Choshen Mishpat on conceptual grounds.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What I’m saying does not rely on the fact that the poor person can’t sue. It’s a simple matter: this isn’t Choshen Mishpat; you can’t take money from me.

[Speaker C] The problem is that even that—I’ll say in one word, I know this is an old thesis of yours, but in my humble opinion… what? I can’t hear. I’m saying I know—I’ll get closer to the camera maybe—I know this is an old thesis of yours, I’ve heard it from you several times, but in my humble opinion it’s not always right. Sometimes the domains spill over into each other. What do I mean? If, for example, it’s obvious to everyone that everyone has an obligation to give tithes—that it goes without saying that each of us has to give tithes—then I think in the end that would spill over into the rules of Choshen Mishpat, into interpersonal law. Why? I’ll just state the reasoning before I understand you won’t agree, but my reasoning is this: Choshen Mishpat is meant to protect the rights that we all want in order to have normal life. But if we all agree that a person shouldn’t have the right to hold on to one hundred percent of the money he honestly earned, but only ninety percent, then from the outset he doesn’t really have ownership of it. You can see it that way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s obvious, but Jewish law doesn’t define it that way. If Jewish law defined it that way, then it would be in Choshen Mishpat.

[Speaker C] No, so I’m saying sometimes it does define it that way. For example, the case of gifts to the poor is a case of that type. There the Torah decides it, but never mind, it doesn’t really enter the issue—you were never the owner in the first place of forgotten sheaves and gleanings. It’s not that you were the owner and there was an obligation on you to give it to the poor person as charity; rather there was never any legal protection of your right there at all. Why? And so there really are rights there. No, but in the end that means that considerations that are basically Yoreh De’ah—very nice, give charity and so on—can invade Choshen Mishpat and say that for that reason too you won’t be the owner, as happened in the case of gifts to the poor. I’m just saying the possibility of spillover exists.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The possibility of spillover exists if the Torah defines it that way. If the Torah defines it that way, then yes, absolutely.

[Speaker C] Or if we do—it doesn’t have to be the Torah. Even if we as human beings define it that way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] We as human beings, in the sense of court-enacted confiscation? What? Right. Fine, no problem. Let them do court-enacted confiscation—no problem at all. Of course a religious court can confiscate property, but let them confiscate it. You can’t just say it on your own reasoning. The Rashba says this on conceptual grounds; he’s not the Sanhedrin, able to confiscate property. He says on conceptual grounds: if that person is obligated to give him the money, then obviously if I take it from him, it isn’t theft.

[Speaker C] No, so the Rashba’s reasoning is this: it’s obvious to him—after all, why do we have Choshen Mishpat laws at all? To protect what’s mine as mine and what’s yours as yours. It’s obvious to him that these rules were never meant to create a situation where you could prevent someone from saving himself through this. Ownership was not meant to protect your right to prevent me from saving my life with your money. That’s the reasoning, and it’s a good reasoning.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning, if there’s such a great obligation… but then you don’t need the point that he is obligated to give—it could be said even without that.

[Speaker C] In principle you could say it without that, but the fact that he is obligated to give is a sign of how much this tramples ordinary ownership rules.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t see it. That’s exactly the point—that it isn’t a sign,

[Speaker C] because

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] after all, there are situations where I’m obligated to give and that still won’t trample ownership laws.

[Speaker C] You can’t bring it as a proof-sign. No, but at least it brings us closer in that direction. It shows us well why it really isn’t appropriate for there to be ownership rules here. True, you could have said it without that, but…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Listen, the Rashba says it, so in that sense you have an advantage over me—he really did say it. I remain with it needing further analysis. But I’m not saying this because of the Rashba.

[Speaker C] No, no, I—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m saying that the Rashba is apparently evidence in your favor, even though I personally really find the reasoning hard to accept. But there’s no other explanation in the Rashba, so it’s not that I can offer a different one. In any case, I just want to say that because of this difficulty, at least in my opinion, this difficulty in the Rashba’s approach raises even more sharply the question: why did he need to go into all this? Why did he have to prove that there is no theft here? Let him just explain that yes, there is theft here, but theft is overridden by life-threatening danger. Why does he need this whole interpretive maneuver to explain to me that there is no theft? Apparently it seems that in the background there is really his agreement with Rashi—that if there were theft here, it would be forbidden. That’s why he found himself forced to say that here there is no theft, and therefore it is permitted. I’ll say again: at the beginning of his wording it doesn’t sound like that there in the responsum, but from his explanation, from the substance of what he says in the responsum, it very much seems that he really agrees with Rashi’s basic view that if there were a prohibition of theft here, it could be that you’d be forbidden to take it. He just argues that here there is no prohibition of theft. So that’s one remark about the Rashba. There are other medieval authorities too—I’m not going into all of them now. There are others, a bit from the Ritva as well, and some others from whom one might perhaps infer an approach that is, in principle, like Rashi’s approach, although again, in the bottom line they disagree with Rashi. In the bottom line, it’s clear that you are allowed to do this; you just have to pay. The only question is what the reasoning is. And in the reasoning you can see the difference. Let’s look at a few more formulations of the medieval authorities here, because there are some interesting differences. For example, look at the Rosh there on this passage in Bava Kamma. “They were Jewish stacks, and Philistines were hiding in them, and he asked whether he could burn them.” But that was not really the question—of course he was permitted to burn them for the rescue of Jews, because it is obvious that nothing stands in the way of life-threatening danger except three sins. Rather, this was their question: may he burn them with the intention of being exempt from payment? And they said to him: it is forbidden to save oneself with another person’s property with the intention of being exempt; rather, he should save himself and pay. Apparently this is like Tosafot and the Rashba—that the whole question was not whether he’s allowed to do it. Obviously he is, nothing stands in the way of life-threatening danger. The question is whether he is allowed to do it with the intention not to pay. And to that they answered no, except for a king, because a king is allowed, but an ordinary person is not. But his wording is a little different from Tosafot. Because in Tosafot the question was—let’s look—

[Speaker D] Wait, maybe—let’s look for a second at Tosafot here. There. Look at Tosafot. Can you see?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “What is the law regarding saving oneself with another person’s property?” Tosafot explains: they asked whether he is obligated to pay when he saved himself because of life-threatening danger. The question is not whether he may save himself, but whether he must pay. Now let’s compare that for a moment to the wording of the Rosh. In the Rosh it’s not the same. In the Rosh: “Rather, this was their question: may he burn them with the intention of exempting himself from payment? And they said to him: it is forbidden with the intention of being exempt; rather, he should save himself and pay.” Do you see the difference in wording? In Tosafot, it’s clear: of course he may save himself; the question is whether he must pay. In the Rosh, it’s framed as the question whether he may save himself—and by the way, this fits the wording of the Talmudic text better. Because the difficulty Tosafot had with the language of the Talmudic text was that the Talmudic text didn’t talk about whether he had to pay, but whether he was allowed to save himself. Tosafot, because of the pressure, had no choice and had to force the reading, but the language of the Talmudic text is difficult for him. Notice that the Rosh’s formulation is different. I’m talking about the question whether I am now allowed to burn these barley stacks in order not to pay, or whether if I do it in order not to pay, then I’m forbidden.

[Speaker C] But it’s obvious that you’re allowed, for the very reason the Rosh himself said—life-threatening danger. I don’t understand the doubt according to this explanation of the Rosh. No, why? He claims that if

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] you do it from the outset with the intention not to pay, then it’s forbidden and you have to die.

[Speaker C] Because I have an alternative way to do it. It’s not that I have to die; I have to choose the alternative.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Suppose hypothetically that you’re going to end up not paying—and of course this is completely hypothetical—but suppose you do it with the intention not to pay. That is forbidden.

[Speaker C] No, then there’s no real question here, because that should be obvious. What does it mean, hypothetically, that I do it with the intention not to pay? If I have the option of doing it either with the intention to pay or without the intention to pay, then this is not life-threatening danger. You can’t permit me to do it without paying. It’s not life-threatening danger, because I can do it while paying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, obviously. But there I ask myself—I don’t want to—

[Speaker C] to pay. I threw my money into the sea, I don’t know what. Life-threatening danger—it’s the same… what? If the claim of life-threatening danger is correct, then here too it’s life-threatening danger.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, again, the claim of life-threatening danger—

[Speaker C] There I do have an explanation, but okay—there, according to my view, he thought the two were dependent on each other. If it was permitted for me to take—if it was life-threatening danger—then it also wasn’t theft. If it’s theft, that’s a sign that there’s also no dispensation of life-threatening danger here. He saw the two things as dependent on each other. That’s why he linked them.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I understand. No, I don’t understand.

[Speaker C] The fact that the Rashba used that reasoning is because he thought the two things were dependent on each other. It can’t be that on the one hand I’m forbidden to take—it’s theft—and on the other hand it’s life-threatening danger. He thought that if it’s life-threatening danger, that means it isn’t theft.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what he says in the answer. Right.

[Speaker C] Okay. That’s also what he assumed in the question.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, in the question he only said that nothing stands in the way of life-threatening danger.

[Speaker C] That’s all—he didn’t assume anything. And therefore he was surprised that it’s theft. From his perspective the conclusion should be—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He wasn’t surprised that it’s theft. He was surprised that it would be permitted to do it—or that it would be forbidden to do it. Right. That’s the question. Whether it’s theft or not—that’s what he gets into in the answer. Right.

[Speaker C] I—okay. I think he linked the two things. That’s the point. He assumed they were dependent on each other. In the answer, yes. Also in the question he assumed it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the question he assumes nothing. In the question he says, “Everything is overridden by life-threatening danger—

[Speaker C] therefore obviously it should be permitted to do it.”

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right. So he asked: it should have been permitted to do, so how can it say that it’s forbidden? Right.

[Speaker C] The question is, even if it involved theft, it should have been permitted to do.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s how you’re interpreting his question. No. He says that it should have been permitted to do, and therefore it shouldn’t have been considered—

[Speaker C] No, that’s the answer.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Again—you can’t read that into the question. That’s his innovation in the answer.

[Speaker C] In my view that was the question, but I think it can be read that way, and then your question isn’t difficult.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t think so. Okay. But for our purposes, what he says here—the formulation is terribly cumbersome. “May he burn them with the intention of exempting himself from payment?” Just ask whether he has to pay, the way Tosafot said. And the answer is yes, he has to pay. But no, because he wants to connect it—he wants to connect it to the wording of the Talmudic text. He wants to gain something from the strained wording of the Talmudic text. Because in the wording of the Talmudic text it says that the discussion is whether he is allowed to do it, not whether he has to pay. But no, really the question is whether he is allowed to do it—but what exactly is he allowed to do? Is he allowed to take it with the intention not to pay, or is he forbidden? That’s the question. With the intention to pay, obviously he is allowed. But with the intention not to pay—may he or may he not? Let me put it this way. Suppose I took the money with the intention not to pay. All right? I was saved. And now I don’t pay. I run away abroad. Okay? So which prohibition did I transgress? The prohibition of theft? If I transgressed the prohibition of theft, then what’s the problem? It’s overridden by life-threatening danger. So what’s the problem? Rather, says the Rosh, from the outset I was forbidden to do that. Meaning, once I did it with the intention not to pay, I was forbidden to take it—I should have died. Theoretically, I should have died. Because the act in itself is an act that one is forbidden to do, even though in principle it is overridden by life-threatening danger. You could say: what do you mean? Do it, because it’s life-threatening danger—why do I care whether it’s theft or not? Do it, and afterward religious court will obligate him to pay, of course, because he has to pay. But he formulates it differently. Of course, again, this is a hypothetical difference, because in practice at the end of the day a person can always say, “Okay, okay, I’m doing it with the intention to pay,” even if he never meant to pay. Never mind. In the end they’ll collect the money from him in religious court. But the formulation of the Rosh is interesting, because he is really claiming that if you do it not with the intention to pay, then from the outset you were forbidden to do it. You should have died. And if your money is dearer to you than your body—like “with all your might,” there are people whose money is dearer to them than their body—he isn’t willing to pay under any circumstances. So they tell him: if that’s the case, then you have to die. Leave the money to your heirs—you have to die; you’re forbidden to do it. That’s really the claim. Because otherwise there would have been no need to say “with the intention to pay” or “with the intention not to pay.” Religious court will force him to pay, because he has to pay. That’s all. This is not a discussion of what his intention was when he performed the act. Where did you go?

[Speaker C] I don’t understand. What happened to the reasoning that everything is permitted because of life-threatening danger? It’s very strange.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying. It’s exactly the same tension I also see in the Rashba.

[Speaker C] No, but there’s a simple answer, and I can’t understand. What simple answer? No, I’m talking about the Rosh. Let’s put the Rashba aside. The Rosh is extremely puzzling. If this is really a case of either way, then if there’s life-threatening danger here, then all the more so the original difficulty returns: the same question with which he began, that the entire Torah is overridden by life-threatening danger. And if there is no life-threatening danger here, then of course it’s forbidden. I think there is no life-threatening danger here because you can take it with the intention to pay. Life-threatening danger is perhaps only in the one obligation—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but what does it mean, I can take it with the intention to pay? Why do you care what intention I take it with? Why do I care about intentions? He can take it and pay later.

[Speaker C] The Rosh cares.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So the question is why. Why?

[Speaker C] I can understand that he cares. Suppose he thinks there is a prohibition when a person takes with the intention not to pay. That’s a prohibition of theft. Fine. But why do I care? If that’s my only alternative, yes? I’m poor and I have nothing to pay. Then the question comes back: this is life-threatening danger. And if I do have the alternative of paying, then there’s no life-threatening danger here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I’m saying. So therefore I’m saying: why do I care about the intentions? I don’t understand.

[Speaker C] I care about the intentions—why not?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m only claiming that if I can pay afterward, then I’ll pay. That’s all. What’s the problem? What difference does it make whether from the outset I steal with the intention to pay or steal with the intention not to pay? I need to take it and afterward pay.

[Speaker C] I can understand how it would make a difference; I just don’t understand why it matters to the bottom line. For the Rosh it shouldn’t matter, because in the end the question boils down only to whether in the end there is life-threatening danger here or not.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If in life-threatening danger

[Speaker C] everything is permitted, then everything should be permitted. What difference does it make?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] After all, it’s obvious that there is life-threatening danger here.

[Speaker C] So then the very same difficulty with which he began applies equally to the answer.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right—so that same question, exactly, that’s what I’m asking.

[Speaker C] Okay, then we agree, fine.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly—that’s what I’m asking. So on the one hand, just as I remarked about the Rashba, I’m remarking here too. He began by saying that everything is overridden by life-threatening danger, but in his explanation it seems not quite everything is overridden by life-threatening danger. Because stealing with the intention not to pay—from the outset you intended to steal in order not to pay—that is not overridden by life-threatening danger, even though it is life-threatening danger. Why shouldn’t it be overridden? Somehow it seems not. There’s still something here that isn’t overridden. Therefore I’m saying: here too there is something that, once again, moves back toward Rashi. This approach that says there are things that are not overridden by life-threatening danger. In this case, theft not with the intention to pay. Maybe I’ll bring an example to sharpen the point a bit more. There’s a Talmudic passage in tractate Nazir, and in Horayot, where the Talmud says that a sin committed for the sake of Heaven is greater than a commandment done not for its own sake. For example, it brings Yael the wife of Hever the Kenite, who had relations with Sisera in order to kill him, and regarding that the Talmud says: a sin committed for the sake of Heaven is great. So later authorities discussing a sin committed for the sake of Heaven—Rabbi Kook, the Netziv, and others—many later authorities repeat that this permission to commit a sin for the sake of Heaven exists only where your intention is for the sake of Heaven. If your intention is not for the sake of Heaven, then there is no permission to commit the sin. Now, I’ve never been able to understand that statement. It seems so strange to me. Why? Because what is the basis of the permission here to commit the sin? The basis of the permission is that the lives of the Jewish people are in danger, and if the only way to deal with Sisera is to have relations with him, and only that way can he be killed, then there is permission to have relations with him. Permission—or whatever, it’s not a halakhic permission, but it’s a meta-halakhic permission. Never mind. So there is—but those circumstances justify or legitimize such an act, even though it is a forbidden act. Okay? Now suppose Yael is in love with Sisera. She’s dying to have relations with him. She’s doing it for the sake of sin, not for righteousness and not for anything else. So what is she supposed to do now—not kill Sisera, and instead let him defeat the entire Jewish people forever, because she can’t do the act for the sake of Heaven? That’s absurd. In the end, the circumstances dictate the permission, not your intentions. Why should I care about your intentions? At most you can say that if her intention is not for the sake of Heaven, then maybe it won’t be credited to her as a commandment. And she, as a person—male or female, yes?—will not be considered someone who performed a commandment, because it was a sin. Fine, I can understand that. But to say that the permission itself depends on that is very strange. And similarly—of course it’s not exactly the same case, but similarly—I want to say here as well: if in the end I am permitted to do this because my life is in danger, then I’m permitted to do it regardless of my intentions. True, afterward of course they’ll collect the money from me. But what difference does it make whether I did it from the outset with the intention to pay or with the intention not to pay? If I do it without the intention to pay, then I’m not in life-threatening danger? Why is that relevant?

[Speaker C] I think the Rosh agrees with you. What? I think the Rosh agrees with you, and he only meant to resolve the strain in the Talmudic wording and nothing more.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I understand, but he didn’t resolve it. If that’s what he means, then he didn’t resolve it.

[Speaker C] No, so I’m saying he sort of began to resolve it because that’s what he intended. From a halakhic standpoint it’s obviously always permitted for you; it doesn’t matter what you intend. But he was saying: how are we going to sustain the language of the Talmudic text? The meaning is: it’s permitted for you on condition that you do such-and-such, not that if you happen to have a different intention it’s forbidden.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you can’t dance at two weddings. If he really means that, then it resolves the strain in the Talmudic text, but then it’s conceptually difficult. If he doesn’t really mean that, then he also didn’t resolve the strain in the Talmudic text. It doesn’t resolve the strain if you say words you don’t mean.

[Speaker C] Why not? It does.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Either you mean it or you don’t. After all, the whole strain was that the Talmudic text deals with whether he is permitted or forbidden to do it, and not with whether he has to pay. That’s what he came to gain. Now what you’re saying is basically that his wording is not really meant to say that he’s forbidden to do it. So then you didn’t gain anything regarding the strain in the Talmudic text. You can’t dance at two weddings.

[Speaker C] No, he meant to say that when the Talmudic text says it’s forbidden to do it, the meaning is that it’s forbidden for him to do it and not pay. That’s probably what he meant.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, then he is permitted to do it; he just has to pay. It’s not correct to say that he is forbidden to do it but not pay.

[Speaker C] You can phrase it that way—he is forbidden to do it and not pay—because a person who is obligated to pay is forbidden not to pay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he is forbidden not to pay, but he is not forbidden to do it. That’s exactly the difference.

[Speaker C] Right, but when does he violate the prohibition?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Does he violate the prohibition when he doesn’t pay, or when he takes?

[Speaker C] There’s no doubt that it’s when he doesn’t pay, but you can take the two things and glue them together: to do it and not pay—that’s something forbidden.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To do it and not pay, yes—but not to do it with the intention of not paying. What’s the problem?

[Speaker C] But that’s probably what he meant. To do it with the intention of not paying—meaning he did it as one package.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So bottom line, bottom line, we’re not talking about the act, we’re talking about the payment. You didn’t gain anything from the Talmudic text. I don’t see it.

[Speaker C] Why? To combine both of them into one thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But it’s not combined into one thing, because you’re telling me that all in all it’s just an obligation to pay, that’s all. Like Tosafot.

[Speaker C] It could have been formulated that way, but in order to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Both together. No, it can’t be formulated differently. It can’t be formulated differently. Why? You’re talking about an obligation to pay; it’s just wordplay.

[Speaker C] Why? I’m allowed—why am I allowed—to say: it’s forbidden for me to borrow and not pay? You can say no, you’re allowed to borrow, you just have a problem afterward,

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re forbidden not to pay if you borrowed.

[Speaker C] Right, that’s the precise formulation, but in ordinary human language it’s completely, completely acceptable to say: it’s forbidden to borrow and not pay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, look: if you tell me “and not pay,” then maybe you can say “to borrow and not pay,” let’s say. But when you say only “it’s forbidden to borrow” without the “and not pay,” and then you insert the “not pay” into the Talmudic text, and afterward you leave only the “not pay”—do you understand? It’s strange.

[Speaker C] Agreed, right. But okay—even so, you can still see it that way.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, it’s a strange business. In light of that, as I said earlier, there’s room here to hesitate over the question of what happens if a person is poor and has nothing to pay with. So what, according to the Rosh would he be forbidden to take the money? He knows he won’t be able to return it. I don’t know. From the opening of the Rosh it seems not, because this is life-threatening danger, and life-threatening danger overrides everything. But from the conclusion of the Rosh, I’m not sure. So there’s a question here—I don’t know—not a simple question. Okay.

[Speaker C] The Tur—is there anyone who actually says that this would be forbidden for a poor person? I’m willing to bet not.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s nobody who says it’s forbidden in general, so it’s hard to… no, Rashi seemingly says so. Yes, Rashi says it in a couple of words that everyone builds on, but nobody agrees with him in practical Jewish law.

[Speaker C] No, but here it’s one step further—to distinguish between rich and poor people on this issue—that sounds even more and more problematic.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Look at the wording of the Tur, for example—the son of the Rosh, right? “Even if he is in mortal danger and comes to rob his fellow in order to save his life, he is forbidden to rob unless it is with the intention of paying.” That’s an even stronger formulation than the Rosh. “For certainly nothing stands in the way of life-threatening danger; therefore he is permitted to take and save his life, but he should take it only with the intention of paying.” That is an extremely strange formulation. It should have said: “but he should not take it unless he pays afterward,” not “with the intention of paying,” but rather he is obligated to pay afterward. That formulation is very strange. The same thing is also in the Shulchan Arukh, right? “Even if he is in mortal danger and needs to rob his fellow in order to save his life, he must take it only with the intention of paying.” That’s already an even more exacting formulation than the Rosh. Here it’s really something very strange. Meaning: the Shulchan Arukh and the Tur—notice an important point—the Shulchan Arukh and the Tur are not commentators on the Talmudic text. The Rosh still writes his rulings around the Talmudic text. I can understand the Rosh trying somehow to force things in order to preserve the language of the Talmudic text, which is difficult for Tosafot. But the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh are presenting Jewish law. They are not commentators on the Talmudic text. And when you present Jewish law, to formulate it in such a crooked way—that’s really strange. If I were reading this without the Talmudic text—if I were reading only the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh and didn’t know there was some pressure from the Talmudic wording and all these things—I would read it as saying that it is forbidden to take if it is not with the intention of paying. That’s what it says there. Fine, with the Rosh you can still argue, as Binyamin said earlier: he wants to salvage some strained reading of the wording of the Talmudic text. Fine, let’s say. But in the Tur and in the Shulchan Arukh, as law books, this is really a very strange formulation.

[Speaker C] But that’s not fair, because it’s obvious to us where they took it from in the Tur.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, they took it from the Rosh—but you don’t write like that.

[Speaker C] They didn’t take considerations of that kind into account; we know this from a thousand places. They copied the wording.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I disagree. If the wording is confusing, then I don’t think that’s right.

[Speaker C] It’s not that—okay, it’s not more confusing than the source. The source is already very confusing, that’s true.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but you’re a law book—so you go and confuse us again like the source? That’s completely absurd. When the Talmudic text confuses us—fine. Even a commentator can say: I’m following the Talmudic text. But a law book—the basic thing I would expect is that it writes the clear Jewish law for me and doesn’t keep confusing me because of the Talmudic text. Once I’m reading it, I’m no longer troubled by the Talmudic text; I’ve left the Talmudic text behind. Now I want to know what I’m supposed to do.

[Speaker C] Maybe Maimonides met those legitimate requirements.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I think the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh are also supposed to meet them.

[Speaker C] Do you know places where they changed the wording because it was confusing? That’s extremely rare.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I think—well, we’d have to think of places—but I have no doubt that this is ABC, the most basic thing.

[Speaker C] Okay, they were very careful about this too, probably also because of fear of issuing rulings, especially the Shulchan Arukh. He almost always copies his predecessors word for word, even in places where it really seems completely absurd.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If he doesn’t mean it, that’s very strange. Anyway, so that’s regarding the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh. What I want now is to explain a bit this approach of Rashi. How can one really understand this approach that says a person is forbidden to save himself with his fellow’s money? Seemingly, “let him be killed rather than transgress” was said only about the three severe sins, not about robbery. So my claim here is the following claim. I’ll start maybe with the responsa Binyan Tziyon. In Binyan Tziyon—the one by the Arukh LaNer—he has some six or seven responsa on this topic, from 167 to 182 or 183, and there he speaks systematically about a conception that says a person must surrender his life rather than commit interpersonal sins—that there is “let him be killed rather than transgress” regarding commandments between one person and another. Among other things, he brings the Talmud in Sotah that says: “It is preferable for a person to throw himself into a fiery furnace rather than whiten his fellow’s face in public”—that is, embarrass him publicly. Tosafot there on the spot asks how this can be “let him be killed rather than transgress”; after all, this is the sin of humiliation, and that isn’t one of the three severe sins. So he explains there that yes, a person’s color drains from his face, as the Talmud says there, and it’s like some kind of accessory to murder. This is extremely strange. Not only is it extremely strange, because after all there’s no murder here—so what if the blood drains from his face? What kind of thing is that? They’re sitting there in Berakhot—what is this? But beyond that, I’d say there’s no necessity for it either. After all, that’s an aggadic statement. What does it mean, “It is preferable for a person to throw himself into a fiery furnace rather than embarrass his fellow publicly”? It means this is something very, very severe and should be avoided. Nobody writes this as some practical halakhic instruction and starts discussing whether yes or no, and why the Talmud didn’t ask there about “let him be killed rather than transgress,” and why here the Talmud ignores that and passes over it so calmly. It’s an aggadic statement, not a halakhic statement. Why are you turning it into a halakhic principle? But Tosafot did decide that this thing is essentially a halakhic statement. And the Binyan Tziyon takes this and says: truly, the words of Tosafot are strained. But he wants to argue that there really is a general principle here: that there is “let him be killed rather than transgress” for all interpersonal prohibitions. Now one has to understand—and this is how they often formulate this Binyan Tziyon—but clearly he does not really mean it literally, that there is “let him be killed rather than transgress” for every interpersonal sin. That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have to die in order to give charity to a poor person, or to do kindness for someone. Obviously not. So what does he mean? There is “let him be killed rather than transgress” for prohibitions that belong to civil law. After all, humiliation—I pay compensation for shame—that’s civil law; it’s not ritual law. Why? Because when I humiliated you, I harmed your right to honor. And that’s like causing damage. Therefore I have to pay; that’s why shame is one of the five categories of compensation. I have to pay you like a damager. Essentially, I harmed your right to honor, and therefore this belongs in civil law. All the interpersonal sins for which one must be killed rather than transgress, according to the Binyan Tziyon—and of course Rashi’s robbery is dancing at the head of them all, he’s just expanding Rashi, but understand that he takes it further—this is really Rashi’s conception. And he says this as practical Jewish law: he claims there is “let him be killed rather than transgress,” because all these sins are injuries to another person’s right. What does that mean? There is—

[Speaker D] Rabbi Shimon Shkop in Sha’ar 5 asks the following question there. He brings a question of the Maharivsan, well-known material.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He brings the question of the Maharivsan and says: why is a doubt in robbery treated leniently? In the language of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim), a doubt in robbery is treated leniently. What does that mean? It means that the burden of proof is on the one seeking to extract money from another—in other words, the one in possession can retain the money even though there is a dispute between him and the claimant, and this is a doubtful case of robbery, yet we go leniently and allow him to keep the money. Of course the term “leniently” is not a great term here, because leniently—not exactly; it’s stringency for the other party. It’s not really leniently, but that’s the expression. So the Maharivsan asks: why in fact are we not concerned about the doubt of the prohibition of robbery? In a doubtful prohibition we are stringent, and this is a Torah-level prohibition. So why don’t we require him to relinquish the money out of doubt and not keep it? It’s a doubt concerning a Torah-level prohibition, so he should be stringent. There are several answers here that Rabbi Shimon Shkop brings—one or two of them—and rejects them, and in a moment he brings his own answer. I just want first to sharpen the question a bit more. After all, it’s clear that in the ordinary case there’s no difficulty here at all. In the ordinary case, when I’m holding money and someone claims it from me, from my own perspective I know the truth—I know the money is mine, and I claim that that is the truth. The judges, of course, don’t know whether to believe me or the claimant. So the judges are in doubt, not I. So they can’t obligate me to give up the money in order to prevent me from a doubtful prohibition of robbery. I claim that I’m not violating any prohibition of robbery. What do you mean? I say this money is mine, and as long as you have no proof to take it from me, you can’t force me to act against the view that I myself claim to hold. You have no proof, so that’s not the question. But the Maharivsan’s question exists only in a case like certain claim versus uncertain claim, where money is to be extracted. In certain-versus-uncertain there is a dispute whether a certain claim is stronger or not. But the dispute is in a case where there is someone currently in possession. Certain-versus-uncertain where there is no one in possession—obviously the certain claim is stronger. Certain-versus-uncertain where there is someone in possession—it’s a dispute among the Amoraim. Where there is someone in possession, sorry—it’s a dispute among the Amoraim. Meaning: you are claiming money from me. Rabbi?

[Speaker E] Yes. I didn’t hear the last two sentences. I don’t know if my internet is weak or yours, but I didn’t hear them.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What I said was that the Maharivsan’s question exists only—it doesn’t exist in the ordinary situation, because in the ordinary situation they can’t force me to be stringent about a doubtful prohibition of robbery if all the while I’m shouting and saying that I’m not in doubt: this money is mine. Okay? Where does this question exist? When there is a certain claim against an uncertain one. You claim against me with certainty: I lent you one hundred shekels. I say: you know what, I don’t remember. Certain versus uncertain. Now I’m the one in possession, because you want me to pay you money. So according to the dispute of the Amoraim, and in practical Jewish law, we rule that the certain claim is not stronger, meaning that certain-versus-uncertain doesn’t help extract money from someone in possession. On that, the Maharivsan’s question is a good question. Why? Because I myself am in doubt whether I violated the prohibition of robbery. It’s not that I know the truth and the judges are in doubt. I myself am in doubt whether I violated the prohibition of robbery. So in such a situation, why am I not supposed to be stringent in a doubtful prohibition of robbery and give you the money? From your own perspective, you’re also not in doubt, because you know this money is yours—you can take it—and I, because of doubt, can’t keep it, because with a doubtful prohibition of robbery we should be stringent. There, that really is a good question: why don’t we say that in a doubtful prohibition of robbery we are stringent, and I have to give you the money even without proof? That’s the question. So Rabbi Shimon Shkop argues—famous material. I’ll just share the passage for a moment. “And an explanation of this matter, in my humble opinion, according to a general introduction: in all the laws of judgment concerning monetary law between one person and his fellow, they are not like the rest of the commandments of the Torah. For in all the commandments, and what the Torah warned us with positive commandments and prohibitions, the main thing is that our obligation to fulfill them is to fulfill the command of God.” Meaning: in all the prohibitions and commandments defined by the Torah, the prohibition or the commandment is constituted by the command. The fact that we have to do it is because the Holy One commanded it. “But in monetary law it is not so, for before the commandment of God falls upon us to pay or to return, there first has to be a prior legal obligation upon us. For even if the robber is a minor and not subject to commandments, nevertheless the religious court is obligated to rescue the oppressed from his oppressor and compel the minor to return the robbed object to its owner.” What is he saying? “Do not steal” is a prohibition different from all the other prohibitions and commandments of the Torah. In all the other prohibitions and commandments of the Torah, the prohibition and the commandment exist by force of the command. The fact that the Holy One commanded not to eat pork—that’s why it is forbidden for me to eat pork. Therefore it is forbidden for me to eat pork because the Holy One commanded. In robbery it works in reverse. Because I may not rob, therefore the Torah forbade it. Not that I may not rob because the Torah forbade it, but the Torah forbade it because I may not rob. You’ll ask: why may I not rob? It’s a legal obligation—that’s what he calls here “the doctrine of laws.” What does that mean? There is some legal system that precedes the commands of the Torah, and it defines property law, what belongs to whom, and it imposes a prohibition on taking money that doesn’t belong to me. When the Torah says “Do not steal,” it adds another religious layer on top of the legal layer. Besides the fact that when you rob someone else’s property you violate a legal prohibition, in addition you also violate the religious prohibition of “Do not steal.” But that prohibition gives religious backing to a prohibition that exists even without it. The prohibition on taking is not because of the Torah’s “Do not steal”; rather, the “Do not steal” is because of the prohibition. Then he says: “And another principal rule in this is that wherever we discuss some right or ownership of a person in some object or monetary lien, we are not discussing at all the matter of observing some commandment, but rather a matter of reality: to whom does the thing belong? And who is fit, according to the doctrine of laws, to hold the object?” We discuss to whom the object belongs. This is not a question in the laws of “Do not steal.” It is a question that precedes the Torah entirely, even before the prohibition “Do not steal” was stated. First of all I have to determine, according to the doctrine of laws, whose money this is. After I conclude that this money belongs to so-and-so, if someone takes that money from him, he has violated a legal prohibition of robbery and a religious prohibition written in the verse, “Do not steal.” But the discussion is not a discussion in the laws of “Do not steal.” And therefore, says Rabbi Shimon Shkop, this is how he resolves the Maharivsan’s question. What does he say? Since legal reasoning says that if there is doubt whether the money is yours, but the claimant did not produce proof, then legal reasoning says to leave the money with you—therefore the religious prohibition of “Do not steal” also does not apply here. Because the religious prohibition comes to give backing to the legal prohibition. And once we have decided the legal question, then legally this money is mine, and therefore the prohibition of “Do not steal” will also not apply here. And then I’m not even in doubt concerning a prohibition. No prohibition rests on me. Because once the law determined that this money is mine, it actually becomes mine, and therefore the prohibition of “Do not steal” will not apply to me and I don’t need to be stringent in a doubtful prohibition of robbery. You can argue with this a lot, but at the moment I’m using it only—I don’t want to get too deep into that discussion. What is this really saying? This is saying, for example, Rabbi Shimon Shkop says that if I take an object from a gentile, then even according to the opinion that robbery of a gentile is not forbidden by Torah law, that object does not become my object. It is the gentile’s object. The prohibition of “Do not steal” does not apply to that taking, but clearly there is a legal prohibition here, and clearly the object is still not mine; it belongs to the gentile. It’s just that there is no religious prohibition of “Do not steal” regarding taking money from a gentile according to those methods that hold that way. That is basically his claim. What is this really saying? It says that when we speak about property law, such as “Do not steal,” and so on, underneath it there sits some conception that there is a legal system that determines people’s rights and obligations regarding money. And this is not connected to the Torah; it comes before the Torah. And elsewhere there in that same chapter he writes—and this is his proof—the Torah prohibits “Do not steal.” Now how do I know what counts as stealing? As long as we haven’t established property law, there’s no way to know when a certain act is robbery and when it isn’t. Therefore, when the Torah says “Do not steal,” it clearly presupposes some system that determines property law, because otherwise it would be impossible to apply the prohibition of “Do not steal.” So there is in fact a system of legal rights and obligations, and the prohibition of “Do not steal” comes to give it religious backing, but it does not create them. They exist without it, before it. That is basically the claim. So, you know what, let’s go out for a five-minute break, and then I’ll come back to Rashi and use this. Okay.

[Speaker D] Okay, friends, let’s come back—turn on cameras. David, Shlomo.

[Speaker F] Just two minutes and I’ll turn it on. Just two minutes and I’ll turn it on.

[Speaker B] Okay. David, are you with us? Aryeh?

[Speaker G] One second, Rabbi, I’ll be there in one minute. I’ll turn it on.

[Speaker B] Aryeh? Okay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, so we reached Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s conclusion: that at the basis of the prohibition of robbery sits an entire legal system that determines property law—what belongs to whom. Or in broader words, it determines the monetary rights each person has. What does that really mean? It means that at the basis of these laws that we call civil law there is a structure different from the laws found in ritual law. This takes me back to my remark about the Rashba and others. Usually, in the legal world, it is accepted to say that corresponding to every duty you have toward someone, that someone has a right against you. If you borrowed from someone, you have a duty to return it to him. Why? Because he has a right to receive it from you. If you damaged someone, you have a duty to compensate him. Why? Because he has a right to receive that from you. You harmed his right, and therefore you have an obligation to pay him. Lawyers call this the Hohfeld table. The Hohfeld table is a chart that sets my right against your duty, and vice versa. Sometimes it’s a right and a duty vis-à-vis the public, but every law always has two sides: if you impose a duty on one person, you have given a right to someone else—or to the public—and vice versa. In the halakhic context the picture is more complex. There are those who think that in the halakhic context you can’t speak in terms of rights, only in terms of duties, but that is a mistake. Clearly there is a discourse of rights in the halakhic context, and that discourse is called civil law. And that is the difference between civil law and ritual law. The laws that belong to civil law are subject to the Hohfeld table. Meaning: in the laws belonging to civil law, my duty toward you is grounded in your right against me. If I damaged you, borrowed from you, and so on, you have a right to receive from me, and therefore I have an obligation to give you. In ritual law it is not like that. In ritual law—take charity, for example—I have to give money to a poor person. Why do I have to give him money? Because there is a commandment to give charity. Does the poor person have a right to receive money from me? The answer is no. That is why it’s not in civil law; he can’t sue me in religious court for it. It’s not something owed to him. I have an obligation to give him, but it is not owed to him. That is the difference between ritual law and civil law. The same thing with interest. If I took interest from someone, do I have an obligation to give that interest back to him? Meaning: does he have a right to receive the interest back from me? The answer is no. I may have an obligation to return the interest to him—at least with fixed interest that can be extracted by judges—I may have an obligation, a commandment, to return the interest to him, but he has no right; he cannot sue me and demand the interest back. That is the difference between ritual law and civil law. What this really means is an expansion of what Rabbi Shimon Shkop said in the passage we saw earlier. Civil law really rests on this: the duties imposed on me are grounded in rights that someone else has. If I harmed his right, I have to pay him. If he has a right, I have a corresponding duty. Now why is this perspective important? Let’s go back for a moment to Rashi. Rashi says that a person is forbidden to save himself with his fellow’s money—literally. What does that mean? I need to burn your stacks of grain in order to be saved, so according to Rashi I’m forbidden to do it. Not that I have to pay—according to Rashi, I’m forbidden. We asked: but “Do not steal” is not one of the three severe sins. It is overridden by life-threatening danger. My answer is the following. I am now in a situation of life-threatening danger. Life-threatening danger suspends all the prohibitions imposed on me except for three. No prohibitions apply to me now. Fine. But my life-threatening danger cannot suspend your rights. My life-threatening danger suspends the prohibitions imposed on me, but it does not suspend your rights. Therefore, even though the prohibition of “Do not steal” will not apply to me—because the prohibition of “Do not steal” is overridden by life-threatening danger—still your right remains, and the property is yours. So even if I, as it were, have no halakhic prohibition against taking it from you, I still have a legal prohibition against taking it from you. Why? Because the legal prohibition is not a prohibition imposed on me. It is a kind of reality. In reality, it is yours. I cannot take it—not because it is forbidden, but because I simply cannot penetrate there. Treat it as some kind of territory of yours that I cannot cross into; I can’t get through the wall, can’t break through the wall and enter there. If the fire is burning me, then even if I am perfectly righteous, there is no question why it burned me, because fire burns people. That is reality. You don’t ask questions on reality; you ask questions on laws. On reality there are no questions. The claim is that my inability to take your money is not an prohibition. It is also an prohibition, but it doesn’t begin as an prohibition. It begins as a reality. In reality, it is yours. Therefore, since it is yours, only you can make decisions about what is to be done with it. And if so, then it is inaccessible to me for decision-making. If I were already in a position to make decisions, the correct decision would be to take it, because no prohibition of “Do not steal” applies to me due to my life-threatening danger, so obviously I may take it. There is no prohibition on me when I take it. But we said: after all, the prohibition is only the second floor. There is also the first floor, which is the doctrine of laws—your right. My life-threatening danger overrides all the prohibitions imposed on me, but how is my life-threatening danger connected to your rights? How does the life-threatening danger that I am in remove your rights over your property? There is no connection. And therefore what happens is this: one has to look at it this way. My “Do not steal” really is overridden. It is not one of the three severe sins; Rashi agrees too. There are only three severe sins. “Do not steal” is overridden by life-threatening danger. Fine, it is overridden. But your right still stands, and therefore I cannot take the property. One can continue afterward and say that once your right remains in place, then my “Do not steal” also comes back. Possibly. I don’t know that, because in a place where in any case you can’t violate this “Do not steal” even in a life-threatening situation, then there’s no reason also to suspend “Do not steal.” Fine—whether yes or no, that doesn’t matter for my argument. What matters is that your right remains in place, and therefore there is no question on Rashi: why wasn’t robbery counted among the three severe sins? It wasn’t counted because it’s not the severity of the sin that causes me to be forbidden to take. My “Do not steal” is overridden by life-threatening danger; it is not a severe sin. It is overridden by life-threatening danger. What is not overridden is your right, and I cannot take from you—as with a gentile. Regarding a gentile, there is no prohibition of “Do not steal” according to the methods among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) that hold robbery of a gentile is not forbidden by Torah law. So there is no prohibition of “Do not steal” when I take from him, and still I cannot take from him. And if I took from him, it is not mine. I am legally forbidden to take it from him, and if I took it, it is also not mine but his. Because the property laws remain in force. The “Do not steal”—the second floor—does not apply in that case, but the first floor remains in force. Now of course, one second, just one second—still, what Rashi says is not trivial even if one adopts everything I’ve said. Because one could say: true, his right remains in place, but I am now going to infringe his right because I am in mortal danger. What prevents me from infringing his right? At the end of the day, this still remains some kind of prohibition imposed on me. So why isn’t that prohibition overridden by life-threatening danger? Why should I care about his rights? I’m asking why I can’t take the money. Why isn’t the legal prohibition overridden by life-threatening danger just like the halakhic prohibition? That’s what one could ask. But I say: Rashi claims not. It’s not necessary, but it’s possible. What Rashi is really claiming is that Torah laws are overridden by life-threatening danger. The mouth that forbade is the mouth that permitted. The Holy One imposed these laws, and the Holy One also suspends them in a case of life-threatening danger. But the other person’s rights—if he wants to waive his rights, then of course he can, and blessed is he if he waives them, because I am in mortal danger. But if he does not waive his rights, nobody else can do so in his place. Only he can waive his rights. That is Rashi’s claim, and therefore there is “let him be killed rather than transgress” not on robbery as a prohibition, but on taking money that isn’t yours. There is no prohibition of robbery here, and still you have to die and it is forbidden for you to take. Yes, Binyamin.

[Speaker C] Yes, I’m hesitating now how exactly to formulate this; it gives me an uneasy feeling. The word “forbidden”—I’m saying it’s not enough to rescue the word “forbidden” here. Fine, you managed to say “forbidden,” but that’s not enough that something is forbidden for me to do. If there’s some person in the world who now decided to formulate that it’s forbidden for me to listen to the lecture, that won’t be enough. You also need my obligation. Now as I see it, there are only—there are two candidates here for grounding the obligation: either my obligation to Jewish law or my obligation to morality, and by virtue of them I obey—or else some matter of utility. By virtue of them I’m supposed, or can choose, to obey some prohibition. And here it seems that Jewish law and morality could be the same thing; maybe not—there’s a debate about that. And here it seems that all three kinds of obligation are absent. The halakhic obligation isn’t here, and morally it doesn’t seem that…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re basically asking the question I asked earlier. You’re basically saying: even if we accept everything I said up to now, still Rashi’s words do not necessarily follow from it. You’re right. One moment—they are still puzzling, because not—

[Speaker C] It’s unthinkable that morality would obligate me to something like this.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—so I’ll explain something.

[Speaker C] So what do I care that you managed to salvage the word “forbidden” by some calculation?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ll explain. My claim is different. I do think this can be said. It’s not necessary to say it, but it can be said. That’s why I brought the example of the fire. I want to claim: imagine there is a wall—you can’t get through it and take the other person’s money. Then you wouldn’t have a claim, “Wait, what’s the wall doing here? I’m in life-threatening danger.” Because the reality is that there is a wall here and you can’t get through. The claim—wait, wait, one second. Fine, but that’s regarding prohibitions. Fine—but why not do it? No problem. Rashi’s claim is that a normative wall is also like a wall. The discussion is not whether I am allowed to take. That discussion never starts to arise. Why? Because I cannot make decisions about something that is outside my territory. If I could make the decision, the justified decision would be to take it—that’s true. But I can’t make decisions about what is not in my territory.

[Speaker C] I can show you that I can.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you can’t. Come and see. Physically you can. What—exactly. No, physically you can, but that’s exactly the point. I’m not talking about the physical.

[Speaker C] No, but if I can physically, then now you have to give me a good reason not to do it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, my claim is that there is physical normativity. And that is like a wall.

[Speaker C] I don’t accept this whole thesis, but first explain to me why not do it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’ll give you another example, I’ll give you another example. Let’s say—my friend in Bnei Brak, a joker, and this is also an example I always bring in this context. We were sitting around some table, and he saw a book he had been looking for a long time in front of someone else there who was sitting by the table reading it. He says to him, look—he says to him, look, I have two options: either take the book from you and violate “Do not steal,” or leave the book with you and violate “Do not covet.” Since either way I’m violating a prohibition, then why shouldn’t I just take the book already? In any case I’m violating a prohibition; at least let the book be with me. Now this is of course not correct in the definitions of “Do not covet,” never mind, I’m not getting into that discussion now; he also knew that, it was just a joke. But suppose even that it were true—what’s the problem with that kind of argument? My claim is the territorial claim I made earlier. Meaning, your consideration is a justified consideration. You’re right. If in any event you are violating a prohibition, then—

[Speaker C] Why not take it—what do you care? According to your own consideration, it’s a justified consideration. My claim against him is that with my property you can’t make calculations, even if they are justified calculations.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You are not the party who gets to make decisions about property that is in my possession.

[Speaker C] Because it is outside the territory with respect to which you can make decisions at all. Therefore here you are, as it were, like a wall.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You can’t go in there even if it is justified to go in. It’s as if you physically can’t. That is basically the claim.

[Speaker C] No, it seems to me we’re not talking to each other. This doesn’t answer my question at all, at all. I completely agree with all that. I’m even willing to agree that legally, or in terms of what— I can say that I’ll go in anyway, by force, in action, and I’ll bear the consequences. That’s what I’m saying. But now tell me: what consequences will I bear? If you do something immoral, then he bears the consequences of the fact that he… Here he bears the consequences that he did something he was not allowed to do. What does that mean? The legal consequences. The legal system is not—this is what people sometimes mistakenly think—it doesn’t float in the air. It has to have backing. Why not do it? I now want to… what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s the claim—not true.

[Speaker C] Wait, there’s a legal system in Iran that says you’re forbidden to do all sorts of things. Why don’t you obey them?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does that have to do with anything?

[Speaker C] I don’t obey them because I don’t think they’re valid. Not connected.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t obey them because they’re not valid—not because I think they’re wrong or because I don’t feel like it, but because they are not valid in my eyes.

[Speaker C] Iranian citizens obey for one of two reasons: either because they think that’s the proper way to act—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I have it! That’s what is proper to do. That’s what is proper to do. What? That’s what is proper to do.

[Speaker C] Ah, that’s the issue—so now we’re debating the moral question. Leave law aside for a moment.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, this is law. I call it law. The law says that I cannot make decisions about your money. It’s not just that it’s improper—I cannot make the decision. Not because the content of the decision is incorrect. The very decision. After all, there’s no doubt that the person who doesn’t give me the money to save me is morally not okay. There’s no doubt about that. And still the law says that I am forbidden to take the money from him. That’s all. The same thing with a poor person, by the way, in a less radical case. I—he is hungry; not life-threatening danger, hungry, okay? There is no doubt that someone who has lots of money and doesn’t give to a poor person is not okay. And still the law says that the poor person is forbidden to take that money. Morality is not always the only foundation of law. Also not in Jewish law? I’m saying also for law.

[Speaker C] Law has its… it is sometimes formally limited. It can’t give every…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but that’s right, and it should be like that too. It’s not—

[Speaker C] I don’t think it should.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, so here we have a moral disagreement. What, you say, Rabbi… I think it absolutely should. There’s a difference between the question of what is the proper decision and the question whether the decision is yours. Two different things. I say the proper decision is to take the money. But the fact that I am making the decision—that is not proper. Because I am not supposed to make decisions about things outside my territory. Two different things. It’s not the morality of the decision, but the mandate to make the decision—that is what is wrong here. Because that mandate is his, even though he is not okay for not giving me the money to save me. But it is his right to be morally not okay; that money is his. Got it? There’s a whole pilpul on this.

[Speaker C] That phrase, “it is his right to be not okay,” is a bit strange, because “his right” means that it’s proper.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not true. It is legally proper even though it is morally improper. Not a moral right—a legal right. I am talking about the legal right to be morally not okay.

[Speaker C] Ah, so in short you’re saying that law lives on its own and doesn’t need moral backing. Fine. So I say that’s basically a malfunction. We would want law to correspond one hundred percent with morality, wouldn’t we?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, we would not. No. Why not? If we wanted that, we would align them.

[Speaker C] It’s all in our hands.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s exactly what it isn’t.

[Speaker C] You can’t align them because it’s very hard.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You can align them easily; there’s no problem aligning them. There’s no problem at all. You can say to every poor person: take money from the homeowner as long as under the laws of charity he is obligated to give it to you. No problem. Just as you can define the laws of charity, you can define that as a legal category.

[Speaker C] That was the communists, but it didn’t work technically. I think that…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean it didn’t work? They don’t want to do it.

[Speaker C] They don’t want to because it has no chance of working.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, they don’t want to because law has an independent standing. You cannot make decisions even if they are moral ones.

[Speaker C] So why obey it? We are positing something that does not correspond to morality, and let’s assume no one will catch you.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You assume that only morality—only morality—is a set of rules one has to obey. I claim that law is too.

[Speaker C] So why? No, I have no problem that one has to obey, but convince me why. I don’t see it. Morality…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You want moral persuasion for the legal matter, but moral persuasion for the legal is self-contradictory. There is legal persuasion. Legally, the money is mine, and therefore only I make decisions about it—that’s all.

[Speaker C] Meaning a person is obligated… you expect a person to… okay, fine. And the person who violates the legal duty?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He is not okay.

[Speaker C] He is not okay only legally; morally he is a very elevated person.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] From a utilitarian standpoint. Elevated person? No. He is a person without moral blemish. But he violated his legal duty, yes. Obviously.

[Speaker C] Who cares? Why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean—it’s like Robin Hood. Was Robin Hood okay or not? Was Robin Hood okay or not? He was morally okay and legally not okay.

[Speaker C] No, no, I think he was not morally okay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? He took from the rich, who lost nothing, and gave to the poor. What’s the problem?

[Speaker C] In my view, law is people’s attempt to organize their lives according to morality. And if it really—if the law were really bad—that’s under the assumption that it isn’t…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What on earth? What is “bad law”? Law everywhere in the world is like this: the rich are not obligated to give charity to the poor. Now I ask: if a poor person takes money from a rich person, he has violated every legal system in the world. There is no legal system in the world that permits that. This isn’t the legal system that prevailed in Sherwood Forest. It’s all the legal systems in the world.

[Speaker C] No, no, there are many systems where that’s permitted. What do you mean? Among the communists that was permitted.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What—that it is permitted to take money by force from a rich person for the benefit of a poor person?

[Speaker C] That’s what every welfare state does, what do you mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A welfare state has nothing to do with it. A welfare state is something entirely different. The state doesn’t take it, and now the poor person doesn’t have enough money, the state didn’t provide for him, and he wants to take money from the rich person.

[Speaker C] If he is filling the role of the state, maybe he is allowed to.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, what? There is no legal system in the world that recognizes that he’s allowed to do that.

[Speaker C] No system recognizes that. But that’s not the point.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s exactly the point! What do you mean, that’s not the point? That is precisely the point!

[Speaker C] No, because as far as I’m concerned, the Robin Hood example only illustrates that in every place, anarchy is apparently worse than the attempt to establish legal rules.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But why do you decide that? Anarchy is a bad thing, but why do you set up the rules in such a way that in order to do the right thing, it would require anarchy? Set up the rules so that you won’t need anarchy in order to behave properly.

[Speaker C] Because he can’t set the rules.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course he can. Jewish law itself defines what is beyond the letter of the law and what is the law. Why doesn’t it make what is beyond the letter of the law into law?

[Speaker C] Fine, that’s a different question—what “beyond” means.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t want to get into that now.

[Speaker C] It’s exactly the same question.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are situations where I want to leave the law one way, even though it’s clear to me that it’s not appropriate to act that way. There is still value in the law being that way.

[Speaker C] Yes, because sometimes it isn’t appropriate to enforce things. It just won’t lead to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not enforcement! It’s not appropriate to forbid it at all. It’s not a prohibition. I’m looking at something that is inappropriate… morally, yes, but halakhically, no. Returning a lost object after the owner has despaired of recovering it. So the Shulchan Arukh rules that beyond the letter of the law, you return it, and they even compel it, right? So why doesn’t the Torah say that by law you have to return the lost object after despair?

[Speaker C] That’s a good question.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And the good answer is what I said. It’s clear that law has an independent status. Nothing will help against that. It’s obvious. To me it’s obvious, I don’t know.

[Speaker C] No, I have no problem with it having independent status. I just didn’t understand why that matters to me.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And therefore someone who violates the law is doing something wrong, even if morality is on his side.

[Speaker C] No, he’s doing something wrong, but that wrong is only legal. So why should I care? Why should I care if it’s legally wrong? Morally wrong—I don’t want to be that, right?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Legal wrong is like moral wrong. Legal wrong and moral wrong are the same thing. It’s wrong. Why should I care that there are legal values and moral values? You’re in the wrong. Do you want to be in the wrong?

[Speaker C] Good for you. How in the world is that the same thing? So you’re saying it’s immoral.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m saying that being legally wrong is binding just like being morally wrong. It’s the same thing. A good person should be committed to both types of rules.

[Speaker C] The difference is simple: I’m not interested in legal wrong.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m willing to be in the wrong. And there are others who aren’t interested in moral wrong either. Everyone cares about what he cares about. But from the Torah’s perspective, the Torah expects both.

[Speaker C] Those people are not moral. I see myself as moral, but I don’t see myself as legal.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But I’m telling you that you need to be legal too, not just moral. You’re not okay. So that other person doesn’t want to be moral either. Anyone can say, “I feel like being a criminal,” so what? What does that help me? There is a Tosafot in tractate Shabbat on page 4 about someone who stuck bread onto the inside of an oven. The Talmud discusses there whether he is allowed to remove the bread so as not to incur a prohibition punishable by stoning. Tosafot says there that you can’t forbid a person from doing such a thing, because even if it were forbidden, he would remove it. He would remove it in order to save his life because of the consequences. So first, Tosafot assumes that you don’t forbid things that a person, for other reasons, won’t observe anyway. Not everyone agrees with that assumption—it’s a dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) there. That’s one thing. Second, even Tosafot says it isn’t okay. Tosafot just says, fine—but since the person in any case will end up doing it, it isn’t worthwhile to establish that as Jewish law. But in principle he is willing to accept the claim that it’s not okay. He’s only saying that practically, people won’t obey it. Two different things. I go back to this example of “you shall not covet” and “you shall not steal.” There, from my perspective, my reasoning is excellent. I’m taking it anyway, and I’m perfectly fine—after all, I’m violating a prohibition either way, so at least let the book be with me. What’s wrong with that reasoning? What’s wrong is not the reasoning itself. The reasoning itself is fine. What’s wrong is that I made the calculation. I cannot make calculations about your book. That is outside the territory of my decision-making. I do not have the mandate to make decisions there. When you asked why

[Speaker C] not be a criminal—so I never… according to what you’re saying, there’s a third answer. People usually say: don’t be a criminal because you’ll go to jail, or because it’s immoral to behave that way. According to you, there’s a third answer.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s just words, it’s not a third answer, it’s just words.

[Speaker C] No, why is it just words? In most cases it really doesn’t pay to be a criminal.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that it doesn’t pay is obvious; I’m talking about the other side. You can call the value of preserving legal rules a moral value—it doesn’t interest me, that’s word games. Bottom line: there are also legal rules that need to be kept.

[Speaker C] No, but it’s not word games, because if it’s a moral value, then in a place where morality tells me to violate the law…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, morality does not tell you to violate the law. It does—

[Speaker C] My child’s food is more important than your money.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not true. Morality tells you there is no moral problem in taking the money, but in a place where the law forbids it, morality tells you that even though morally, in itself, the act has no problem, the fact that you are making the decision about this act—that is the problem. Two different things.

[Speaker C] But the original morality was what told me to listen to the law, and now it’s telling me not to listen.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it isn’t. It says there is this aspect and that aspect, and you’re mixing them up. Morality itself—call it morality as far as I’m concerned, I don’t care—morality itself says that the legal system must be preserved, and morality also says that in a case of danger to life I can violate this or that rule. Legal rules, no. Because legal rules say that you cannot make the decisions here at all.

[Speaker C] But the legal rules—the backing, the reason I listen to them in the first place—is because morality told me to, and now it tells me not to.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, morality speaks to you about the act, not about the decision. Morality regarding the decision tells you: do not make the decision; you are not allowed to make the decision.

[Speaker C] I don’t understand the point—what does that mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You are not allowed to make a decision in a territory that is not yours. You told me before that this was a good question regarding “you shall not covet.” That’s the answer. There is no other answer. That’s the answer.

[Speaker C] Ah, I have an answer to the question about “you shall not covet.” There—what? Because “you shall not steal” is a prohibition linked to a positive commandment; once he took your book, he has a positive commandment to return it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So what?

[Speaker C] Therefore it’s not the better option to choose. Why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He’ll take it and return it—sure, let him do that, why not? He’ll take it and return it—sure, let him do that, on the contrary. The positive commandment he can still repair by returning it; “you shall not covet” he cannot repair.

[Speaker C] Maybe it’ll be enough just to read it—he has to return it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Oh, come on, really, nonsense. In short, forget it—it’s not a halakhic question, it’s a moral question. In the end, he can take it, read it, and return it. And when he returns it, he repairs the prohibition, but “you shall not covet” he can’t repair at all. If you want to get into pilpul, then this pilpul isn’t relevant.

[Speaker C] The moral answer really isn’t hard, because it’s obvious that this is a bigger crime here.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, why? “You shall not covet” and “you shall not steal” are both crimes.

[Speaker C] In “you shall not covet,” only I am committing the transgression.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter—but the Torah says both are crimes.

[Speaker C] That may be true halakhically, but morally there’s a big one and a small one.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that one I can fix, I—

[Speaker C] I’ll return it to him afterward.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not true. He will suffer until you return it. He’ll suffer for five minutes, I’ll finish reading, I’ll return it. Nothing will happen. Wicked scoundrel that he is, not lending me the book, he can suffer for a few minutes. There’s no moral problem—I can justify that for you with no problem at all.

[Speaker C] If you can justify it morally, then in my eyes that’s a problem. I think that’s a good consideration.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, in the end—

[Speaker C] Something that is morally justified is not so simple; it gets into the issue of a transgression for the sake of Heaven.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I disagree, I completely disagree. Legal rules have importance in themselves, not only in their content, but in preserving the legal rules themselves. There is, you know, in Kli Chemdah by Zimri he asks, at the end of the portion of Balak—he asks there, he brings a difficulty from later authorities (Acharonim), there are several later authorities, the Rebbe of Gur is cited there. Zimri—Pinchas came to him, and the Talmud says that if Zimri had turned around and killed Pinchas, he would not have been executed for it, in tractate Sanhedrin. Meaning, as far as Pinchas was concerned, he had the status of a pursuer. So Zimri could have killed Pinchas and would not have been executed for it. So the Rebbe of Gur asks: why, why, why was Zimri permitted to kill Pinchas? After all, he could have saved himself by one of his limbs. He could have stopped sinning, and clearly Pinchas would not have killed him, so there would have been no need to kill Pinchas. So what permission did he have to kill Pinchas as a pursuer? He could have saved himself and Pinchas if he had stopped sinning. Even if he could have shot Pinchas in the leg—if he kills Pinchas he is a murderer. Okay, whether he is liable to death or not is another discussion, but he is a murderer, okay? But here he doesn’t even need to shoot Pinchas in the leg; he just needs to stop committing a sin, which in any case he ought to do. So how is there permission here to kill Pinchas? And the answer given there is a wonderful answer. He says there: that’s true, but I don’t owe it to you to stop sinning. I don’t owe it to you to stop sinning. You come after me as a pursuer, and I will kill you under the law of a pursuer. True, I could stop sinning—I don’t have to. And since I have the right to sin—notice this: I have the right to sin! What does that mean, I have the right to sin? My legal right to do something that is halakhically forbidden. That is exactly the distinction between the categories. And because it is my legal right to do something that is halakhically forbidden, if you come and threaten me so that I won’t do it, or kill me so that I won’t do it, I can turn around and kill you and I will be exempt. Why? After all, Pinchas was right in his reasoning; the Holy One, blessed be He, even gave him His covenant of peace. Morally, Pinchas is righteous. He is morally righteous and legally criminal. Because he is not allowed to kill me. What does that mean, he is not allowed? Legally, he has no right to kill me. And therefore if I kill him, I am within my rights. It’s like someone—in a less extreme example—someone threatens me with a gun: give me a shekel or I’ll kill you. Am I allowed to kill him first in order to save myself, or am I obligated to give him a shekel and save us both? Ostensibly I can save us both: give him a shekel and that’s it. Is it permitted to kill over a shekel? And the answer is yes, of course it is. I am allowed to kill him in order to save myself. Why? But I can give him a shekel and save him and me with a shekel, as though by one of his limbs? The answer is: because I do not owe him the shekel. I have the right to keep my shekel, and if he threatens me over that, I will kill him as a pursuer. Decisions about the… my shekel—only I make them. Someone can come and say, look, if you want to be righteous, give him the shekel. Maybe. I’m not even sure about that either. But even if it’s true, still the decision whether to give a shekel or not is mine and not yours. If you try to force me to give you the shekel, that decision is not within your mandate. And because of that, I will kill you. And there is a difference between the question whether the decision I make is the right decision and the question whether it is my mandate to make that decision. Two different things.

[Speaker C] Look, Pinchas didn’t accept your reasoning. He decided to be legally wicked, though morally righteous—but legally wicked.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Correct. The Holy One, blessed be He, says that there are certain circumstances in which He permits a person to be legally wicked, but you still remain legally wicked, and the consequence is that Zimri can turn around and kill you even if he simply doesn’t feel like stopping his sin.

[Speaker C] I understand now. So if that’s the whole practical implication—that someone will be permitted various things of this sort—then it’s really not so terrible. But what comes out of it is that there isn’t—meaning, you don’t expect someone to obey the instructions of the law.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s another question. I said it’s connected to Tosafot in tractate Shabbat on page 4. It’s connected to Tosafot there. The question is whether we expect him to obey, or whether he says, listen, I’ll commit the transgression and bear the consequences in the heavenly court. But there is still a transgression here—that’s the claim.

[Speaker C] The heavenly court—excuse me, what? Does the heavenly court judge on laws or on morality—legal law?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The heavenly court judges everything. The heavenly court judges you for everything in which you were not okay.

[Speaker F] Also—

[Speaker C] Also for not obeying the rules of the neighborhood soccer club?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—if it was something that had to be obeyed, yes.

[Speaker C] If it had to be obeyed morally, then we’re back to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, if it had to be obeyed—not morally, legally, call it whatever you want—if it had to be obeyed.

[Speaker C] From the standpoint of the club’s rules, it had to be obeyed.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, the club’s rules have no significance just because the club’s rules say so. Unless I am a member of the club, and as such I committed myself to obey the rules. Okay? And even if I committed myself, that has no—

[Speaker C] no significance unless you say that a person has a moral obligation to keep his commitments.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not true. He has a legal obligation to obey, not a moral obligation. If you want, call it a moral obligation on the meta-level—it doesn’t interest me. This terminology, “a moral obligation to obey the law”—call it a moral obligation, I don’t care. But it has an independent status beyond the moral judgment of the act itself. The moral obligation is to obey the legal system, regardless of what it says. That is different from saying whether what it says is moral or not. Two different things. All right, let’s move on, because we’re already repeating ourselves a bit. So my claim, basically, is that this is the explanation in Rashi’s view. The claim is that when a person is in a life-threatening situation, then the prohibition of “you shall not steal” really is overridden. It is overridden by danger to life. It is not one of the three severe transgressions, but there is still a legal barrier here that does not allow him to take the money even though he is in danger to life, because the other person’s right does not evaporate just because I am in a life-threatening situation. And by the way, it is entirely reasonable that the medieval authorities (Rishonim) who disagree with Rashi—I’m talking about those who disagree with him completely, not those about whom I said I was uncertain—even they may accept this model. Except that in their view, as Binyamin said here, although there is a legal prohibition, danger to life allows me to violate that as well. That doesn’t mean they don’t accept the structure itself. I’m saying that in Rashi there is no other way to understand it. There is no other way to understand Rashi. In the approach of the other medieval authorities (Rishonim), I think there is no reason not to understand it this way. You could read it differently, but there is no reason not to read it this way, because it makes sense, because it is correct. Except that in their view, they think that even the legal prohibition is overridden in the face of danger to life. That too, this framework accounts for. Okay. I think this is also the point of the Arukh LaNer, of the Binyan Tzion, who extends this to humiliating another person. Why must I be killed rather than humiliate my fellow? The answer is because even though perhaps the humiliation is not worth a life—it’s not about the severity of the transgression. The point is not the severity of the transgression; you don’t need to show that humiliation is like murder, which is what Tosafot tries to show, not very successfully. The point is not the severity of the transgression. The point is that the decision about what to do with another person’s honor is entrusted only to him. He has the right to make decisions about his honor and not me. Therefore I cannot make decisions about his honor. And because of that, even though the decision in itself is justified—I should not have to pay with my life for his honor—on the moral level, the reasoning says yes, injure him in order to live. Correct. But on the legal level, that reasoning has to be his. He has to be willing for me to humiliate him in order to save me from my life-threatening situation. If he is not willing, then decisions about his honor are given solely to him. That is basically the claim. And the same is true regarding all the interpersonal matters that the Arukh LaNer speaks about, as distinct from, for example, charity, and interest, or commandments between man and his fellow that belong to Yoreh De’ah. Such commandments are obviously not ones for which one must be killed rather than transgress, because those commandments are not founded on the right of the other person. So those are commandments that are certainly overridden by danger to life. If I am in a life-threatening situation, do I have to give charity? Obviously not. Why? Because the poor person does not have a right to receive charity; rather, I have an obligation, and that obligation is overridden by danger to life. Only in a place where my obligation reflects the other person’s right—there, even if I am in danger to life, it won’t help. My obligation may be overridden, but the other person’s right still remains in place. And therefore the Arukh LaNer is not speaking about all commandments between man and his fellow. He is speaking about the rights of the fellow, or about my transgressions whose basis lies in violating the other person’s rights. And about that he says: one must be killed rather than transgress. And that is basically the claim. This is the explanation in Rashi’s view. We spent a bit of time on this issue, so we’ll finish it next time. Okay. Let’s stop here.

[Speaker D] More power to you.

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