Kiddushin, Chapter 2, 5783, Lesson 11

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, we’re looking for a source for the law of agency, where the agency under discussion is agency in kiddushin, but I already spoke about this—that it seems from the Talmud that the discussion is more about agency in a more general sense, not specifically in kiddushin. We begin with the source for agency in divorce: “and he sends and she is sent.” He appoints an agent, she appoints an agent, and an agent appoints another agent. We talked about which agent can appoint another agent and the topic of mili, “mere words”—that was last time. Then the Talmud moves on to two additional sources, meaning kiddushin and terumah, or two additional contexts: kiddushin and terumah. And I want to touch a bit on those things today—today and actually next time too, which is the end of the semester. Maybe I’ll begin with a reminder. I spoke about Rabbi Shimon Shkop in Gate 7, who says there, explaining what Tosafot says: that with halitzah, since it cannot be done through agency, it also cannot be done conditionally. And he says why—why is there such a connection, that only something that can be done through agency can also be done conditionally, and something that can be done conditionally can also be done through agency? His claim is that the matter has to be under my control. Once it’s under my control, and the indication of that is that I can attach conditions to it, because I’m the one who determines whether it will happen and how it will happen and so on, then automatically I can also delegate authority to an agent. Something that is not under my control—I can’t appoint an agent for it. So he says: yes, and if you ask, is something that cannot be done through agency also not subject to conditions? Yes. And if you ask what logic there is here, since we don’t derive from there except what is logically inferred from the conditions of the sons of Gad and the sons of Reuven, for we do not derive that it is ineffective except in the transfer of land. And the answer is—yes, we don’t say that conditions apply only to the transfer of land. Conditions apply to any halakhic act. Meaning, not everything that appeared in the condition of the sons of Gad and the sons of Reuven automatically becomes a general rule in the laws of conditions. So why this point, that whatever is subject to conditions is subject to agency? So he says: “Since the act is so much in his hands that he can carry it out through an agent, it is reasonable that it should likewise be in his hands to impose a condition upon it. But halitzah, where it is not in his hands to carry it out through an agent, is likewise not in his hands to stipulate a condition for it. And even if the condition is not fulfilled, the act remains valid.” What? It goes in both directions.

[Speaker B] It goes in both directions.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If it’s that much in his hands, if it’s that much in his hands that he can even do the—

[Speaker B] do it through an agent, that sounds like—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] that’s the easier part, so all the more so? Not all the more so—it’s the same thing. These two things express the fact that it’s completely in my hands. If it’s completely in my hands, then I can also make conditions and I can also appoint an agent. If it’s not in my hands, I can’t make conditions and I can’t appoint an agent. In other words, it’s a sign—it’s not a cause. Meaning, the fact that I can make conditions is an indication that the matter is entirely in my hands; automatically I can also do it through an agent, and vice versa. So that’s Rabbi Shimon’s claim. Some time ago on the Sabbath I heard someone who was with us in Lod, and he said an interesting idea specifically. He says that the laws of acquisitions are learned from “and a man drew off his shoe” in the Book of Ruth—“and a man drew off his shoe,” in the Book of Ruth regarding acquisition by exchange. What does that really mean? After all, an act of acquisition is basically an act that expresses final intent, right? So “and a man drew off his shoe” basically means that removing the shoe is the biblical expression for final intent, for control over the matter. Meaning, I basically decide to transfer ownership, and the expression of the fact that the decision is mine is that I remove my shoe. So in halitzah, he says, why is it that in halitzah the woman actually removes it? People always say that he does halitzah to her, but in practice that’s not what happens—in practice she removes it. She performs the action. Why? So he wanted to claim that she takes the shoe, and by that she expresses the fact that he has let control slip from his hand. Meaning, the Torah commanded him to enter into levirate marriage, and he decided no, I don’t want to deal with it, it’s not under my control, I’m not—I’m not—solve the problem some other way. If so, then you’re not taking responsibility, meaning you’re not the one doing the act, so the woman is the one who will pull off your shoe. Exactly. She’s saying: you’re basically not taking hold of the reins that the Torah placed on you. You’re not drawing off your own shoe, you’re not doing what was placed upon you to do, so apparently you’re not the master here—fine, I’ll solve the problem for you. As if the woman takes the shoe and basically performs the action in his place, renders him unnecessary, puts him to the side. So in that sense, drawing off a shoe really is some kind of expression of responsibility or of a person’s control in carrying out—

[Speaker C] And therefore—exactly.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—that he doesn’t pull it off. She can’t appoint an agent because she’s not performing the act at all, but he can’t appoint an agent because control isn’t with him. Meaning, that’s why he says that specifically halitzah serves as the example of something not under his control, because in halitzah the Torah itself says that the woman takes the shoe, which is the clearest expression that you’re basically not in control, or not carrying out what you’re supposed to carry out. And that’s the example about which the Talmud says that what is not subject to agency is not subject to conditions—meaning that halitzah is the best example of your not being in control, not in control of the matter. Okay, in any event, so I return to the Talmud, I return to the Talmud. The Talmud discusses the source for agency. The Talmud says as follows: We found it in divorce; from where do we know it in kiddushin? How do we know that there is an agent for kiddushin? I remind you that the Mishnah deals with agency for kiddushin—that’s really what we’re looking for. And if you say that it is learned from divorce—what is unique about divorce? It can take place against her will. The verse says: “and she leaves and becomes”—it compares becoming to leaving. Just as in leaving he appoints an agent, so too in becoming he appoints an agent. Yes: “and she leaves his house and goes and becomes another man’s wife.” So the Talmud says that “and she leaves” is compared to “and becomes,” and therefore what exists in leaving—that is, in divorce—exists also in becoming, in kiddushin. And just as in divorce there is agency, so too in kiddushin there is agency. So this is an interesting point that comes from the very structure of the Talmud. The Talmud begins with an attempt to learn kiddushin from divorce: if there is an agent in divorce, then I learn from that to kiddushin. The Talmud says: no, that’s impossible. Why? What is unique about divorce? It can be against her will. The verse says: “and she leaves and becomes”—it compares becoming to leaving. So what? It compares becoming to leaving, and therefore what? Therefore I learn kiddushin from divorce. But divorce still can be against her will.

[Speaker E] By force of a scriptural decree. What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] By force of a scriptural decree. What—despite the fact that you can’t learn it because there’s a challenge?

[Speaker E] No, there are laws where the verses are—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] support each other, and that’s how one law is learned from the other. Fine, but I’m saying: if it’s similar. If it’s not similar, then apparently I would challenge this too. So learn only laws that really are relevant to learn from one another—for example that both can be done with a document; that’s one of the things that are learned. But who says this can be learned? After all, there is a challenge here. So the truth is, this is a subtle point. On the one hand it’s clear—the rule is that there is no partial analogy within a verse and no partial verbal analogy. And in the simple conception—apparently this is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot, but in the simple conception—“there is no verbal analogy by halves” or “no analogy within a verse by halves” means that we compare for all laws; we don’t say for some laws yes and for some laws no. But on the other hand, it’s clear that we don’t really compare for all laws. There are laws where, say, nobody would learn from the verbal analogy of “to her” “to her” from a slave to a woman that one can enslave a woman as one does a slave, or sell her like a slave. Why not? There are things that are clearly irrelevant to this derivation. Never mind right now how that’s clear, but it’s clear. We learn only the things that appear on their face to be relevant, or at least things for which it is not clear that they are irrelevant. Okay? You can formulate it this way or that way. So yes, it’s true that there is no analogy within a verse by halves and no verbal analogy by halves, but it’s obvious that we learn only what is relevant. That’s on one side. On the other side, it’s not true that every time there’s a challenge it becomes irrelevant. And the proof is right here: if a challenge really turned the law being learned here into something irrelevant, then the challenge would also knock down the analogy of “and she leaves and becomes.” Exactly the way it knocks down the paradigm inference above. After all, at the beginning this starts as a paradigm inference, right? Let’s learn from divorce to kiddushin. How? Which interpretive rule are we using? A paradigm inference. What is that? I say there’s no reason to distinguish. If agency works here, it works there too. These two acts seem similar to me; there’s no reason to distinguish. An analogy within a verse is something that appears in the text. I’m not deciding that kiddushin resembles divorce; rather, because in the same verse it says “and she leaves and becomes,” the Torah itself is saying that we are supposed to compare divorce to kiddushin and kiddushin to divorce. Okay. Now in that situation, the challenges won’t work. There is no such thing as a challenge to an analogy within a verse. There just isn’t. You won’t find one.

[Speaker C] It has to be that way, because otherwise it wouldn’t add anything over a paradigm inference.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, exactly, it would just be—

[Speaker C] a plain forced reading of the thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. But that’s also logically true. Beyond just proving why it has to be that way, I’m also explaining why it has to be that way. What?

[Speaker C] The explanation is that an analogy within a verse means that the Torah used some language that is supposed to hint that they are similar. And if it did that, that means it thought we wouldn’t be able to learn it from a paradigm inference.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that’s basically—meaning, what happens in a paradigm inference? In a paradigm inference, and the same with an a fortiori argument—in general throughout the Talmud we find challenges to logical interpretive rules, either a fortiori or paradigm inferences from one verse or from two verses. These three interpretive rules are subject to challenges. You won’t find a challenge to any other interpretive rule. To logic? No—to an interpretive rule, I mean. Can you have a challenge to a logical argument? That means the argument isn’t logical.

[Speaker C] Is there anything like that with general-and-specific-and-general? Those aren’t really challenges; it’s more like saying the rule itself doesn’t apply.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, there are no challenges in general-and-specific-and-general.

[Speaker C] I mean, it’s not exactly a general rule because it doesn’t include everything.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s not a challenge. A challenge is to bring a counterexample. And then it simply isn’t a case of general-and-specific, fine, okay.

[Speaker C] In the sense of saying it’s not similar.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not similar, yes. Or to bring a counterexample. A counterexample, or reasoning—yes, what we call a challenge throughout the—

[Speaker C] No, there are—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There are challenges from reasoning and challenges from law. “What is unique about a pit? It is exempt regarding vessels”—that’s a challenge from law. “What is unique about a pit? Its creation was for damage”—that’s a challenge from reasoning.

[Speaker C] Got it, there are two types like that. Yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now there is one place in the Talmud, in the passage in Hullin on page 66 I think, where there is indeed something that looks like a challenge to general-and-specific-and-general, but even there, when you analyze the passage properly, you see that that too isn’t really the case. In the case of general-and-specific I actually checked all the passages of general-and-specific; that’s where the light bulb went on for me. And why is that? Because when we divide things up, the world of interpretive rules is divided into two categories. There are logical interpretive rules—these are a fortiori and the two kinds of paradigm inferences—and there are textual interpretive rules. Textual interpretive rules are those where the exposition begins from what appears in the text. For example, verbal analogy: the same word appears here and there, and I say, fine, if the same word appears here and there, then I need to compare the two halakhic contexts. Okay? Or general-and-specific: we move from general language to specific language or the other way around, so we need to make a general-and-specific exposition. Analogy within a verse: two things are written in the same verse or right next to each other, and therefore we need to compare them. And so on. Those are all textual interpretive rules. There the trigger for the exposition is the juxtaposition in the text or some appearance, some hint in the text, that tells me: here, make an exposition. A fortiori and paradigm inferences—there isn’t the slightest hint in the text. Nothing. What is in the text is a law. That law appears there not in order to tell me to make an exposition; it appears there because that is the law. The Torah wants to tell me the law. I decide that if the law exists here, then it should also exist there because it is similar, because of an a fortiori argument or a paradigm inference—yes? But that’s my decision. It has nothing at all to do with the question of what is written in the text. Now there are, of course, places—the ten a fortiori arguments that appear in the Torah itself; there’s a famous midrash, yes, that there are ten a fortiori arguments that appear in the Torah itself. “Behold, the children of Israel have not listened to me, so how will Pharaoh listen to me, and I am of uncircumcised lips?” That’s an a fortiori argument. Or “If her father had but spit in her face, would she not be ashamed seven days?” and so on. There are ten such cases. Those are places of a third type. Those are places where the Torah itself performs an a fortiori argument. Normally the Torah doesn’t do an a fortiori argument; the Torah writes a law. I learn another law from it by means of an a fortiori argument. There, those are situations where the Torah itself performs the a fortiori argument.

[Speaker B] How do we know which law is learned from “and I am of uncircumcised lips”? No, the opposite.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Torah itself performs the a fortiori argument. There I’m not learning a law. The Torah itself is making an a fortiori consideration. If the children of Israel didn’t listen to me, then how will Pharaoh listen to me? After all, Pharaoh is even less likely to listen to me than the children of Israel. So if they didn’t listen to me, then that’s the more severe and the lighter case, basically, yes? So he certainly won’t listen to me. Okay?

[Speaker C] “Two verses that come as one do not teach”—that’s a reasoning of this kind, because it relates to something in the text, but in the end we overturn it by reasoning. Why? What reasoning? The reasoning is that if it could have been learned from a paradigm inference and nevertheless both were written, that means it’s only—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, but that’s always true. Why? By the same token you could say the same thing about analogy within a verse. It could have written them in separate verses; it wrote them in the same verse to tell you to make an analogy.

[Speaker C] But with analogy within a verse, if I didn’t know that this is a method of interpreting verses, I wouldn’t think I could learn it from that word. Here, ostensibly, any person could always infer that conclusion, if there is such a thing as a paradigm inference.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It doesn’t matter, because there is still some reasoning there. It could be that I would know that reasoning without the Torah or with the Torah, and there’s a textual sign, and my reasoning says that such a textual sign is meant to serve as a derivation. By the way, that too ends in reasoning.

[Speaker C] There is, yes, I understand, I understand—but there’s still a difference. The difference is, I’d say simply, that with “two verses that come as one,” if the interpretive rule didn’t exist, they would be—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But it doesn’t matter. For our purposes, for example—say I take a derivation from “two verses that come as one do not teach.” “Derivation” meaning perhaps they teach the opposite—that’s the whole dispute there. But I made a derivation. Now there is a challenge. Would that knock down the derivation?

[Speaker C] Yes, because the reasoning disappears.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—not a challenge between them. That’s mutual necessity; it’s not a challenge. If there is mutual necessity between them, that’s not a challenge. A challenge means there’s some characteristic in both that doesn’t exist, say, in the other places that I want to—

[Speaker C] So the derivation—but not because it’s a derivation from the text.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying: the distinction you made may exist, but it doesn’t matter for what I’m saying here. The claim I want to make is that you won’t find—You won’t find challenges except to logical interpretive rules. You won’t find challenges to textual interpretive rules. You will find irrelevance—that yes. Meaning, there are laws that I won’t learn even from textual interpretive rules, from a verbal analogy, fine, because it seems irrelevant to me. It’s like “derive from it and from it, and leave it in its place,” or something like that. Meaning, there are things that don’t seem relevant to learn, so I don’t learn them—but not because of a challenge, rather because they are not in the conceptual field of that context. Okay? But a challenge will not knock down such a derivation. Because once we say that there is a challenge here—“what is unique about divorce? It can be against her will”—I return here. And then the analogy of “and she leaves and becomes” would tell me not to learn from divorce to kiddushin, because divorce can be against her will. So then you ask yourself: okay, so why did the Torah juxtapose “and she leaves and becomes”? After all, it put them together in order that I learn something. If there is a challenge to what I am learning, then I don’t have any explanation for why the Torah juxtaposed them, this analogy of “and she leaves and becomes.” Now in truth, this is actually a place where one could have qualified it, because a lot of things are learned from “and she leaves and becomes.” And one could have said that the Torah juxtaposed them for other matters, where perhaps there is no challenge, but not for this matter of agency, for example, because here there is a challenge. But no—we don’t do that. You can see right here in the Talmud that we don’t do that. Meaning, when the interpretive rule is a textual rule, there are no challenges to it. You won’t find challenges. Only logical interpretive rules have challenges. Okay? And I think this Talmudic passage is a wonderful example of that. When you want to learn by paradigm inference from divorce to kiddushin, they knock it down with a challenge—and then what’s the answer? No, there is an analogy within the verse. Okay, and what about the challenge? No—if there is an analogy within the verse, then the challenge plays no role. Okay, so that’s a general look at this section. Now, if we want to learn from the agent of receipt in divorce to kiddushin—after all, in divorce we had three agents: the husband’s agent of delivery, the woman’s agent of receipt, and an agent appointing another agent. Okay? So from the husband’s agent of delivery you can’t learn, because it can be against her will; the husband can divorce her against her will. What about the woman’s agent—an agent of receipt? She, after all, can’t do it against the husband’s will, right? The divorce.

[Speaker C] And maybe it’s against the will of the agent—suddenly… why does that matter?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The husband can divorce against the woman’s will, so what? That doesn’t matter—he’s the woman’s agent.

[Speaker C] So that could be a challenge, no? Why? How can there be a challenge if it cuts in both directions?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah—you want to say independently of the question whether it’s against the will of the agent. Rather, you’re claiming that since I said before that the same underlying point can challenge in both directions, then this works out fine. Right? Because “it can be against her will” challenges in the opposite direction too. Okay? And then indeed it could be that even from agency for receipt I won’t be able to learn, because in agency for receipt it’s not against the woman’s will, and that too is a side from which to challenge. Okay?

[Speaker E] No—why, why is that a side from which to challenge?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because if the matter is—if you have only a partial role within the general framework—then it’s easier to appoint an agent than when you are doing the whole thing. Right? That’s what we discussed earlier. Say the husband—in divorce he basically does all the work. Okay? Once he does all the work—and in kiddushin, after all, you need the woman’s consent—when you do all the work, it’s a greater novelty that you can also do it through an agent. In kiddushin, you do your part through an agent, but there is still the woman’s side, which has to complete it. And in that sense too, an agent of receipt cannot teach agency in kiddushin. Therefore the—It could be that with agency for receipt too you can’t learn, even though the Talmud itself doesn’t distinguish here. It says you can’t learn from divorce because it can be against her will. Somehow it seems that since divorce in general belongs to the category of being against the woman’s will, then in general you can’t learn from agencies in divorce—whether receipt or delivery. What I’m saying now is not so simple, but maybe there is something more straightforward here. We already showed that agency for receipt—at least in the simple conception—agency for receipt is agency over an act, not over authority. Because the woman has no authority, right? The woman has no authority and no ability to make decisions regarding the divorce. She has no power; she is not delegating power to the agent. The Torah requires that the bill of divorce be given into the hand of the woman: “and he shall write for her a bill of severance and place it in her hand.” It has to be in the woman’s hand. But it’s not that it is within the woman’s authority to receive a bill of divorce into her hand. No—this is an obligation on the woman to receive it. Since this is agency for an act, agency for receipt is agency over an act—meaning that the act of the agent is considered as though it were an act that I performed—not that I am delegating authority to him to do something that was within my authority, rather this is some rule saying that if I appointed you as an agent, your action is considered an action that I myself performed. That’s what I called agency for an act. If so, then obviously from agency for receipt you can’t learn about agency of delivery in kiddushin. Agency of delivery in kiddushin is agency for authority. And the fact that there is agency for an act does not necessarily teach that one can have agency for authority. And again, by the way, here too I can give challenges in both directions. Why is there more reason to say that in agency for an act there is an agent, and why less reason? Agency for an act is, simply speaking, a less significant kind of agency. You have no stake in the matter, so there is more reason to say that you can do it through an agent. On the other hand, what exactly are you transferring to the agent? The Torah wanted this to be in the woman’s hand. So it’s not that she has some authority that she is delegating. It didn’t happen in the woman’s hand; it happened in the hand of the agent. So precisely there is less reason to say that agency should help. And that’s what I talked about—that’s why I said that we need two sources for agency: one for agency of receipt in divorce and one for agency of delivery in divorce. Since there are challenges in both directions, and I said that in the end it may be—and this is what Rabbi Shimon Shkop struggles with—he says he doesn’t know where the Sages got this from, but he proves that there is both agency for an act and agency for authority. You can see it from the passages. And he doesn’t understand where it came from. The answer I suggested is: it came from here. Agency for receipt—after all, “and he sends and she is sent”: he appoints an agent and she appoints an agent. “He appoints an agent” is agency for authority; “she appoints an agent” is agency for an act. Those are the two sources: agency for authority and agency for an act. Now agency in kiddushin is agency for authority. Agency of delivery in kiddushin. In fact, even agency of receipt in kiddushin is probably agency for authority. But agency of delivery is certainly agency for authority, and therefore you can’t learn it from agency of receipt in divorce, which is agency for an act. And therefore the entire discussion in the Talmud is only about learning from agency of delivery in divorce. Agency of receipt in divorce isn’t even in play; you can’t learn from it. And that’s what the whole discussion is about: why not learn from agency of delivery in divorce to agency of delivery in kiddushin? Because divorce can be against her will. They say: okay, but there is “and she leaves and becomes.” “And she leaves and becomes” says that in spite of that, we do learn. The Pnei Yehoshua—just one sentence, I’ll get to him in a moment—says: “And from the agent of receipt as well we cannot learn, since she is divorced against her will; we do not care so much about the agency, for even if he threw it into her courtyard, it is effective.” What does that mean? That is precisely the side saying that if she is divorced against her will, then you can’t learn agency from there. Earlier we said that if she is divorced against her will, then you can. He says no—if she is divorced against her will, you can’t learn agency from there. Why? Because it’s just a generic act; in any event the woman isn’t really a party to the matter, so let it be done through an agent. Okay, that is exactly the other side I’m talking about here. Are both of these talking about the woman’s agent?

[Speaker B] An agent of receipt is the woman’s agent.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I said: from the husband’s agent of delivery you can’t derive agency for divorce, because divorce can take place even against her will, and then we learn it from “and she leaves and becomes.” And I asked: but why not derive it from the woman’s agent of receipt even without “and she leaves and becomes”? Let’s derive it by a general paradigm from an agent of receipt. But from an agent of receipt you also can’t derive it, because of the other side of that same refutation. Okay? Or because that is agency for an act, and we want to derive a source for agency for legal capacity. Right after that, the Talmud—so that we learn from “and she leaves and becomes,” from divorce to betrothal. Right after that the Talmud brings: “But as for that which we learned: one who says to his agent, ‘Go separate terumah,’ he separates according to the owner’s intent. And if he does not know the owner’s intent, he separates an average amount, one out of fifty. If he reduced by ten or increased by ten, his terumah is valid.” The Talmud asks: from where do we know this? Meaning, how do we know that one can appoint an agent to separate terumah? Until now we saw divorce, and we saw betrothal from “and she leaves and becomes.” Divorce is from “and he sends” / “and she is sent,” betrothal is from “and she leaves and becomes.” Now they move on to terumah. Notice: the Talmud is structured in reverse. It doesn’t bring a new source each time for the law of agency; on the contrary, there is one source, the source for divorce. Each time it brings another context in which you can’t derive from there. The structure is the opposite. Meaning: we have a source from divorce—that’s the source. But every time we run into: wait, but for betrothal you can’t derive from divorce, so what do you do there? Fine—“and she leaves and becomes” makes it possible. Terumah? You can’t derive it from divorce. So what do we do there? “So shall you also set apart.” We’ll see that in a moment. Okay? Meaning, the whole structure is constantly trying to expand the law of agency. It’s not a structure that brings yet another source for agency and another source for agency, and then asks why all the sources are needed. That also comes later. But at this stage the structure of the Talmud is not to bring another source and another source and ask why we need them; rather, the source is one source only: divorce. When I try to expand it, I want to see where it extends. To betrothal, apparently, it can’t go—so “and she leaves and becomes” makes it possible. What happens with terumah? In terumah, you can’t derive from divorce. So how is it that in the Mishnah we still find that one can separate terumah through an agent? The Talmud says: from where do we know it? And if you say it is derived from divorce—what is the comparison to divorce, where they belong to the realm of the ordinary? Divorce belongs to the ordinary world, while terumah belongs to the realm of holiness. So what? Why should it matter whether it is ordinary or holy? You could say this is just some generic refutation, like you don’t derive sacred matters from ordinary matters. Sort of different categories, so I don’t know—you can’t derive. But it may also connect to what I was talking about earlier. The holy realm is less in my hands. The ordinary realm is completely in my hands, and there agency makes sense—you can do everything, you’re the sole owner. In the holy realm, there is another owner here, right? Everywhere, it belongs to the Merciful One. Meaning, the Holy One, blessed be He—that is really God’s realm, the realm of holiness. And when you are there, you are not the owner; you’re not the sole ruler—maybe not a ruler at all. And therefore one might have thought that there would be no agency there. Where would the implication be? For example, if I find a source—here, for instance—a source for agency in terumah, okay, let’s keep reading. The verse says: “You, and also you”—to include the agent. So we have a special source for terumah. Now I ask: then from terumah let’s go back and derive divorce and betrothal, right? In a moment we’ll see that the Talmud itself discusses this. But when I make the calculation now: if there is a difference here between the holy realm and the ordinary realm such that you can’t derive one from the other, then that goes in both directions. Why?

[Speaker C] Because the question is what kind of difference it is.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Like, “we do not derive ritual prohibition from monetary law,” for example. When you say something like that, the plain meaning is: not monetary law from ritual law and not ritual law from monetary law. Meaning, these are just two different categories—don’t compare one to the other.

[Speaker C] Because the implicit meaning is that there are refutations in both directions. No—and in our case maybe that’s also true—but it’s clear that it’s easier to see the refutation that you can’t derive holy matters from ordinary ones.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, so that’s what I’m saying. Which brings you back to what I said before. Meaning, if this were only a statement—look, these are two categories, you can’t derive one from the other—then it should work in both directions. And then even when you want to derive divorce and betrothal from terumah, there should have been no need to make a two-source argument for the same reason, because this is holy and that is ordinary.

[Speaker C] But it’s not certain that the reason is just a matter of category. I mean, I can see a general rationale that holiness is something harder to apply.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, that’s its cousin—I don’t care, you can formulate it that way too.

[Speaker C] It’s a cousin, but it’s not…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay. No—by “harder” I mean less under your control. But not because it’s less under my control…

[Speaker C] What does “harder” mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why is it harder? Because you don’t have the ability. You don’t have the ability—meaning, it’s less under your control.

[Speaker C] Not because…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, not because there is necessarily someone else here controlling it, but simply because it’s hard to do.

[Speaker C] You’re saying, it’s like saying you need a more serious agent to buy a Mercedes than to buy a Subaru. Okay? Because buying a Mercedes is harder.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because buying a Mercedes is harder, so you can say it’s less under my control.

[Speaker C] No, because buying a Mercedes is harder, so you can say—no…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because it’s the same thing—it’s a transaction between me and a seller. That’s what I said before: in my eyes it’s a cousin of the same idea. It’s less under my control not in the sense that there is someone else, but in the sense that I myself can’t do it. I can’t fly. I can’t fly not because someone is stopping me, but because I don’t have that ability. Fine. So I’m saying: from the fact that later the Talmud makes the reverse two-source argument—meaning, okay, so let’s derive from terumah to betrothal and divorce—it really looks like the Talmud does not view holiness and ordinary matters as two parallel categories from which one cannot derive one from the other. No—this only goes in the direction that you can’t derive from the ordinary to the holy. Okay? But the other direction, in principle, you could have, if not for other refutations. Okay? That is one of the indications that…

[Speaker B] In general, that’s also an ideal, no?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What does “ideal” mean? To learn from the holy to the ordinary and not the reverse? What does “ideal” mean? We are not dealing here with the sanctification of the ordinary. The question is whether it is possible to derive or impossible to derive. That’s all. I’m not even sure about that. So the Talmud—right, so what does the Mishnah actually say? In terumah, by Torah law, one grain of wheat exempts the whole pile, but the Sages said that one has to give more, and there are three measures: one out of forty for a generous eye, one out of fifty for an average eye, one out of sixty for a stingy eye. So in practice, at the bottom line, you don’t separate one grain of wheat; you separate more. Now when I send someone to separate terumah, first of all we already see here that in principle my agent can separate it—even the opening clause shows that. Then the latter clause says: “If he reduced by ten or increased by ten, his terumah is valid.” What does that mean? If, say, I didn’t tell him how much—right, “if he does not know the owner’s intent”—I didn’t tell him how much to separate, whether I want one out of forty or one out of fifty and so on, then he separates the average amount, one out of fifty. But if he reduced by ten or increased by ten, that’s also okay. Ideally, separate the average amount, but if he reduced by ten or increased by ten, that’s also okay, because the owner didn’t tell you exactly how much he wanted. So the Talmud—fine, I’ll come back to that point in a moment. Later in the passage the Talmud says: “Let the Merciful One write it regarding terumah, and let those others come and be derived from it.” This is the reverse two-source argument I mentioned earlier. And again, if this were simply holy versus ordinary, then there’s no question. What’s the problem? Why ask it at all? And the Talmud says: because one can refute it, since terumah can take effect by thought. Terumah can take effect by thought. So what? Fine—it can take effect by thought; that too is a refutation. Same idea. This entire topic is about control, or its cousin, okay? What does it mean? “Can take effect by thought” means that I can do it even in thought; I don’t need to do it through an action. That means it is under my full control. So in that situation it makes more sense that I could also appoint an agent. But in something that requires an action, who says you can appoint an agent? Later I’ll say—maybe I’ll say it already now—that “can take effect by thought” may mean that you don’t actually need agency at all. If I needed an act of separating terumah, then if I didn’t do it and someone else did it, he would need to be my agent in order for the act to be effective and count as if it were my act. But if it can take effect by thought, that means you do not really need an act of separating terumah at all. So in practice, even if someone does it in my place, he need not be my agent at all. Not that it is easier to appoint an agent, but that no agent is needed; that’s why it works through someone else. And in truth, if it can take effect by thought, it’s not clear what we are even talking about here. If it can take effect by thought, why appoint an agent? I’ll perform the terumah in thought and that’s it. What’s the problem? What role does the agent have? The thought I can always do myself. If you need to physically separate the terumah from the pile and I’m not in the area, then I tell my agent to do it for me. But if all I need to do is think, then what—I’ll appoint him to think in my place? I can think myself too.

[Speaker B] And he isn’t—he isn’t the one who creates the terumah, but he’s the one who carries it out in practice. I thought: I want to give one out of fifty.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—the thought creates the designation of terumah. You don’t need his action.

[Speaker B] To see it as if you don’t need what?

[Speaker C] He lacks information. He has to know—he has to know what’s there, how much there is.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? Why does he need to know? “One out of fifty of what is on the northern side shall be terumah”—what’s the problem? People say this all the time.

[Speaker C] Meaning, for whatever quantity there is, I just state the percentages.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes. So—

[Speaker C] Then really, why is he appointing an agent?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Excellent question. We’ll perhaps see later to what extent we are really talking about an agent here at all. The point that comes up here is—fine, there is some discussion about “it exists against one’s will.” Good morning, we’ll get to that later. There’s a note by Rabbi Eliezer Moshe Horowitz. At the end, the Talmud discusses Tosafot. Tosafot says this: “What is the comparison to divorce, since it belongs to the realm of the ordinary,” and therefore you can’t derive from divorce to terumah. “But it could not have said: since divorce can take place against one’s will.” Why? As explained above, because one could say: betrothal proves otherwise. But above it only brought that regarding betrothal: when you want to derive from divorce to betrothal, you say, “What is the comparison to divorce, since divorce can take place against her will,” and when you want to derive from that to terumah, after you already have betrothal too, then you understand that “against her will” is not a refutation. So Rabbi Eliezer Moshe Horowitz asks about this: “I do not understand their intent, for divorce is not against the will of the divorcing husband, but of the divorced woman, and that is not at all relevant to terumah.” What do you say? What did he say? That divorce is not against one’s will?

[Speaker D] He says—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why couldn’t one have refuted it? Tosafot asks: why couldn’t one have refuted with, “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against one’s will,” and therefore you can’t derive it to terumah? Okay? And therefore the Talmud needs, “What is the comparison to divorce, since it belongs to the ordinary realm.” Why does the Talmud need that? Let it say, “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against one’s will.” So he says: what kind of difficulty is that? That’s his question on Tosafot. If it is “against one’s will,” that means against the woman’s will—but in terumah this is not “against the will” of the divorcing husband; it is against the woman’s will. Terumah doesn’t have that. Terumah has no second party.

[Speaker B] It’s like the question on the first Mishnah: from when does one recite the evening Shema—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —at night, yes.

[Speaker B] “From when does one recite the evening Shema? From the time the priests immerse”—what connection is there? To tell you that they occur at the same time. Maybe here too it’s the same story: it’s not that you need it, but to tell you that you can’t derive from it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why can’t you derive? There, in the Mishnah, you can say that they brought that indication in order to teach you a law about priests. But here Tosafot says: it couldn’t—it could have refuted it with “since divorce can take place against one’s will.” And he says, no—that refutation could not have been made.

[Speaker B] If it’s not obvious, maybe that’s why it needed to be stated?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, not that it isn’t obvious—it’s just not true. That is not a refutation: “divorce can take place against one’s will.” That’s what he’s asking. Do you agree?

[Speaker C] You could have made the same claim about betrothal. I don’t understand what he wants. Why? Because in betrothal too it’s against the woman’s will, not the divorcing husband’s.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—against the woman’s will. Correct, but not against the divorcing husband’s will. He says that for this to be a refutation, it needs—

[Speaker C] —to be something where, in order for the refutation to work, the divorce would have to be against the will of the husband divorcing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In order for the refutation to work against terumah.

[Speaker C] Exactly, and I don’t understand why that’s needed.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean?

[Speaker C] First of all, there is a second side—the produce is the second side. But produce… what?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The produce—you are performing an action on the produce. You are not standing opposite another party here.

[Speaker C] Which means there is no second party.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And therefore what?

[Speaker C] Unlike divorce, where there is a second party.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, so you are really saying everything I said before. What does “it exists against her will” mean? It’s not a formal refutation. “It exists against her will” means that your control is complete, right? So why should I care that there is no second party? If there is no second party, then all the more so my control is complete. That is an excellent refutation. It doesn’t—

[Speaker C] —need all this just to say…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s what stands behind what you are saying. What do you mean it doesn’t need it? It doesn’t need it because he is there.

[Speaker C] I don’t understand at all what he wants. Why is it relevant that there is a second party? What’s relevant is that in divorce there is someone divorcing. He claims that in order for there to be a refutation, the divorcing husband would need to be acting against his own will, that the divorcing husband could do something against his own will. That’s how I understand it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, and even that wouldn’t be a refutation; it would just be nonsense. He says: but the refutation you are bringing is just irrelevant. So he’s not talking about the divorcing husband, he’s talking about the woman. Not because— I don’t think you can infer from here that if it were against his will then it would be a refutation. I see no rationale for that at all. Rather, he is saying: no, fine, but there is no room here for the analogy. But look: once in terumah there is no second party standing opposite me, what does that mean? That my control in terumah is complete. There is no one here who can hold me back, right? So it is indeed similar to divorce. Okay? So he is right. What does Tosafot say? Let’s refute with: “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will.” What do you want from terumah? So Rabbi Eliezer Horowitz asks that. He says: what do you mean? You can’t refute with “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will,” because terumah too is, in a sense, “against one’s will.” What does “against one’s will” mean there? It means that in terumah too your control is complete; it doesn’t depend on anyone else. So just as in divorce it can be done through an agent, in terumah too it can be done through an agent.

[Speaker C] Of course divorce is an act so powerful that it can overcome her will. In terumah that doesn’t exist because there is no her will. Right—so there is no will to overcome.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s the answer. You’re suggesting an answer, fine. But first I’m explaining his question. And his question says: I don’t think he really means the issue of against his will or against her will. The point is that divorce has— Tosafot says that “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will” treats it as some kind of formal refutation. A formal refutation because it is against the woman’s will. What do you mean? It’s not a formal refutation. Behind “against her will” sits the idea that simply because everything is under your control, you can do it through an agent. And that’s fine—but that is also true in terumah. After all, it is not done against the will of the one separating it. If it were done against the will of the divorcing husband, that would mean that the divorcing husband really has no control, because it is against his will. But in terumah it is not against the will of the one separating it. The one separating decides whether to separate or not. So if that had been the refutation, I would understand it. But if it is against the woman’s will, then why is that a refutation? That’s what he is asking. Okay? So of course, the answer can be what you said before: your control can be defined in a case where there is someone resisting and we say he has no power to stop you—you are the sole ruler. In a place where there is no other side, that does not mean you are the sole ruler; it means control is not needed here, there is nothing to overcome. So that can be the explanation in Tosafot. Okay? Here we have Pnei Yehoshua: “And one may ask carefully, how is this refutation of ‘against her will’ applicable here? Granted, regarding betrothal from divorce, it is perfectly reasonable to say: what is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will—for from an agent of delivery we cannot derive, even though the husband can divorce against the woman’s will. And since the act is so fully in the husband’s hands”—you see the reasoning—“since the act is so fully in the husband’s hands, that he can divorce against the woman’s will, therefore he can appoint an agent. Which is not the case with betrothal. And from an agent of receipt as well we cannot derive”—that’s what we saw before—“since she is divorced against her will, we are not so concerned there with agency,” the other side of the same coin. “Against her will” operates here in both directions. But here, regarding terumah, we can indeed derive an agent of delivery. And if because he can divorce against her will and no one objects, here too he can separate from his own produce and no one objects or prevents him.” What is he really asking? He is asking the question of Rabbi Eliezer Moshe Horowitz in the way I formulated it earlier. Meaning, he says: after all, this “against her will” is an expression of control. If it is an expression of control, then in terumah too he has full control. So if in terumah too he has full control, then what does Tosafot want with this refutation, “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will”? Again, he just explains it more than Rabbi Eliezer Moshe Horowitz. So he says: “However, according to what I explained above, that from an agent of delivery we can derive only where he hands the agent some item, analogous to a bill of divorce; unlike a case where he hands him nothing at all, which is the sugya of mere words, yes? Rather just words alone, such as in terumah where he says to him, ‘Go separate terumah’—perhaps that is ineffective, since it is akin to mere words. And if so, necessarily, when it seeks to derive terumah from divorce, it is from an agent of receipt, which is also akin to mere words. And if so, Tosafot wrote correctly that from an agent of receipt too we cannot derive, since she is divorced against her will.” The woman is divorced against her will. So you can’t derive an agent of receipt. And I said before that you can’t derive from there because that is an agent for an act and not an agent for legal capacity, and in terumah, on the face of it, this seems like an agent for legal capacity. “Rather, Tosafot did not descend to that rationale, as I explained above, and furthermore, if so, what they wrote shortly thereafter—that terumah can take effect by thought, so betrothal should come from terumah and divorce—would not be resolved. And why? Just as we cannot derive betrothal from divorce alone regarding agent of delivery and agent of receipt. Rather, necessarily, as we refute: divorce can take place against her will. And that means that an agent of delivery works because the husband can divorce against her will and no one objects. And an agent of receipt, because she is divorced against her will. And all of this is called one refutation.” Meaning: he refutes both from the agent of delivery and from the agent of receipt—again, those same two sides I mentioned before. The fact that she is divorced against her will refutes both the possibility of learning from the husband, the husband’s agent of delivery, and from the woman’s agent of receipt. “If so,” says the Pnei Yehoshua, “for that same reason we also cannot derive betrothal from divorce and terumah, since in terumah too he can separate it with no one objecting—which is not the case with betrothal.” Right? Divorce and terumah together both, after all, are “against one’s will,” just like the agent of delivery and receipt in divorce. So from both together you still can’t derive agency in betrothal, because betrothal is not done against her will. According to Tosafot, he says it is not clear why the Talmud raises the possibility of learning betrothal from divorce and terumah—that’s the Talmud later on. “And since the matter is never entirely in his hands, for he cannot appoint an agent except where it is against her will—Tosafot did not descend to that rationale, and they hold that terumah is not ‘against one’s will’ in the same way as divorce, and this requires further analysis.” And Tosafot is following its own approach here. Therefore Tosafot says that terumah is not called “against one’s will.” Terumah is not called “against one’s will,” and accordingly they are consistent here too, and they say that therefore here one can indeed refute from divorce to terumah: “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will,” because according to them terumah is not considered “against one’s will.” Okay? And the explanation of what he says “requires further analysis”—it doesn’t require further analysis, it’s the explanation you gave before. It’s not “against one’s will” because there is no one here to overcome, that’s all. So it doesn’t seem too problematic to me. What Tosafot ultimately concludes is the Tosafot he mentioned: “since it can take effect by thought, and as for betrothal, it would come from terumah and divorce. For if you refute: what is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will—terumah will prove otherwise. If you refute: what is the comparison to terumah, since it can take effect by thought—divorce will prove otherwise. And it could not have derived it from the juxtaposition ‘and she leaves and becomes,’ because that is needed for other derivations.” This is interesting—it relates to the point I opened with, that… what? yes.

[Speaker E] Meaning—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He wants to say that from the juxtaposition “and she leaves and becomes” you can’t derive from divorce to betrothal. Why not? Because there is a refutation. Divorce is against her will and betrothal is not. So you’ll say: then why do you need the juxtaposition? What do you do with the juxtaposition? He says: the juxtaposition is needed for other derivations. I noted this before. A juxtaposition is exceptional relative to other derivational methods, because from a juxtaposition you usually derive several things. You can say that this particular thing, regarding which there is a refutation, is not derived, while the others are derived. I just don’t know how this Tosafot will fit with the Talmud. Because the Talmud above said: what is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will, and therefore you can’t derive from it to betrothal; then the Talmud says, “and she leaves and becomes.” And it doesn’t go back and say: wait, wait, but “and she leaves and becomes”—it’s still against her will. In the Talmud itself you can see against what he writes. So I don’t understand how he fits with the Talmud itself. But yes, that really is a point against what I said.

[Speaker C] It’s not certain that it’s against it, because it always depends on the force of the refutation. Even you would agree that a very strong refutation would ultimately override the juxtaposition.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] A refutation that is simply irrelevant—

[Speaker C] Yes, but there is some threshold where it crosses over and then the refutation wins. I don’t know.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And in Porat Yosef: “and as for betrothal, it would come from terumah and divorce.” Yes, betrothal can be derived from terumah and divorce. Terumah can take effect by thought, so you can’t derive divorce from it. But once you have the—so that’s why you need a source for divorce. Once you have a source in divorce and also a source in terumah—yes, “you also shall set apart,” to include your agent—then from the two together you can derive betrothal through the common denominator. That’s what Tosafot says, right? “What is the comparison to divorce, since it can take place against her will? Terumah will prove otherwise. What is the comparison to terumah, since it can take effect by thought? Divorce will prove otherwise.” And Tosafot assumes that it is not correct to say that both terumah and divorce are “against one’s will,” because according to Tosafot’s own approach, terumah is not considered “against one’s will.” Because if you could say that, then you couldn’t derive it from there. Okay? So Porat Yosef says: if so, that is a very big difficulty. Not such a huge difficulty, but on Tosafot’s view it is a difficulty. Seemingly it is a tremendous difficulty against the Talmud. “And it appears to me that one can say that it could have said: what is the comparison to these, since they permit to the world at large. If so, the agent himself also has some benefit in them. Therefore it is entirely understandable that one can appoint an agent for this. Which is not the case with betrothal, where, to the contrary, she prohibits herself to the entire world. In that case one might have thought that one cannot appoint an agent. For a similar rationale truly appears in the case of one who seizes property for a creditor in a place where it harms others, where it is ineffective even if he appointed him an agent, according to Tosafot in Gittin, and similarly to what we say later. And here, it harms others, and this requires great analysis.” What is he saying? This is an interesting idea that already takes us a bit into the conceptual world that will come soon. He argues that in terumah and in divorce, the act has implications also for the agent himself. Once the woman is divorced, she becomes permitted to the world, including the agent himself. Once I separated terumah, then the pile changed from untithed produce to ordinary produce, so it becomes permitted also to the agent himself. Again, apart from theft—you need the owner’s permission—but as far as the prohibition is concerned, it becomes permitted to the agent himself too. In betrothal, by contrast, when you betroth, you prohibit the woman also to yourself. It’s not something that has beneficial consequences for you; yes, she becomes prohibited, but it’s not a permission for you, it’s a prohibition upon you—it narrows things for you. Why is that relevant? In the case of seizing for a creditor, we find this—a Talmud in Bava Metzia—if one seizes property for a creditor in a place where it harms others, then it is ineffective; you can’t seize it. But if I myself am one of the creditors—say Reuven owes Shimon money, okay? And he hasn’t paid Shimon. So I go and seize money from Reuven and give it to Shimon. I seize it for Shimon. Okay? That’s fine, I can seize it. What happens if there are other creditors too, and Reuven only has enough to pay one of them but not all the others? Then if I seized it for that creditor, the other creditors lose out; they won’t have from where to collect. That is called one who seizes for a creditor in a place where it harms others, and it is ineffective. I can’t do it. And that is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot. According to Tosafot, even if he appointed me as an agent, I can’t do it. According to Rashi, by the law of acquisition on another’s behalf, no—but if he appointed me as an agent, then yes. According to Tosafot, even if he appointed me as an agent, I can’t do it. But if I myself am one of his creditors, then I can do it. If I myself am a creditor, and I seize it either for myself or for others—even for others—I can do it. Like an agent.

[Speaker E] Meaning, like an agent. Exactly, but an ordinary agent can’t—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —do that, while I, if I am a creditor, can. The question is why. The answer is: it is in my power. Meaning, after all, I could have seized it for myself. For myself I certainly could have seized it. A creditor who seizes for himself certainly can. Okay? If I can seize it for myself, I can seize it also for someone else. If he appointed me as his agent? That is the dispute between Rashi and Tosafot in the case where I am not a creditor. There is a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot whether if he appointed me as an agent I can seize it, despite the fact that I’m not a creditor. If I am a creditor, he doesn’t need to appoint me as an agent. I can seize it even without his appointing me, according to everyone. Fine? But that is because I could have seized it for myself—yes, it is in my power; I could have seized it for myself, so I can also seize it for someone else. What does Porat Yosef say here? He says: this really means that you cannot act—or at least this is his argument—you cannot act in places where the matter has no implication for you, or at least there is less reason to say you can act there if you are not among those affected by the matter. It’s something like a distant analogy to harming others or something, but that is his claim. Therefore it could be that in divorce and terumah you can act because the implications are relevant to you too. It’s as if you are one of the creditors, so you can perform this act because it is relevant to you as well. And in betrothal, no, because in betrothal you prohibit her to the world, including yourself. But in the case of seizing for a creditor, what I as a creditor can seize is not because I also belong to the world of creditors; it’s because I could have seized it for myself. That is why it is in my power. It’s not because I belong to that world, so it’s relevant to me and therefore I can act. That’s not the point. Rather, because I could have done it for myself. Suppose I were a creditor—suppose I were some kind of creditor who, for some reason, was forbidden to seize, I don’t know exactly why. Okay? But he also owed me money. Fine? Then I couldn’t seize it, despite the fact that he owes me too. Why? Because my whole ability to seize is based on “since he can acquire for himself,” meaning, since he can acquire for himself, he can acquire also for someone else. It’s not that rationale that says because the matter is also relevant to me, therefore I can act there. It’s something else. It’s because I can do it for myself, and by extension I can also do it for someone else. What he says here reminds me a little of the rationale of “not belonging to the legal category.” We’ll see that later. Someone who is not in the legal category of the matter cannot be an agent with respect to that matter. For example, a non-Jew—well, with a non-Jew it’s a big question—but suppose just for the sake of the example, or a slave. A slave cannot be an agent for divorce and betrothal. Why? Because he is not in the legal category of divorce and betrothal. A slave cannot contract betrothal and cannot divorce, so he also cannot be an agent for betrothal and divorce. Someone who is not in the legal category of the matter cannot be an agent. That is already somewhat closer to what he says here, because it means essentially—after all, it’s not really “since he can” in the technical sense. It’s not that I am an agent because I could have betrothed her to myself, therefore I can also betroth her to someone else. Rather, because I belong to this world of betrothal. I am someone capable of performing acts of betrothal. Acts of betrothal are the kind of action I can perform. That is the point. So I can be an agent for betrothal. Okay, now here it’s not the same thing, because here he says—here he says that the agent for betrothal is in the legal category of performing betrothal. Even so, he says that for betrothal he won’t be able to act; only for terumah and divorce he can. Why? Because terumah and divorce have implications for him. Not because he is in the legal category of the matter, but because that specific act has implications for him too. And it’s as if it is not harming others, but benefiting himself in this case. He permits the matter, permits the matter to himself. So it is a little similar to “not in the legal category,” but not really the same. Still, it’s a somewhat hard rationale to define. Why—why in divorce and terumah, because the matter has implications for me, can I be an agent—implications for permission? I would have thought the opposite. In betrothal, because it prohibits her to me, I would say fine, it prohibits her to me, so maybe I can do this act, because in fact this act goes against my interests, so maybe I can do it. But in a case where the act is in favor of my interests, why would that give me more power to do it?

[Speaker C] In the matter of credibility you’re right that it’s connected to that, but here it’s not about credibility.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s a matter of legal power, not credibility.

[Speaker C] Right, so regarding legal power I actually can hear it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? I have more power to harm myself than to benefit myself? What does that mean?

[Speaker C] I’m not sure. Why? No, I look at it this way: a person who comes to permit something or do something that is—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —for his own benefit. You know, this reminds me: there’s an article by Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman about repentance. Once I gave a class and mentioned his principle, and then some layman there in the class commented with something that I was stunned I hadn’t thought of myself. There are things only laymen notice. He says there—he raises a difficulty from the Talmud in Kiddushin. The Talmud in Kiddushin says that if someone betroths a woman on condition that he is perfectly righteous, we are concerned about the betrothal lest he had repented. Okay? And elsewhere the Talmud says that if a righteous person regrets his former deeds, he loses his merits. So he says: in Mesillat Yesharim it is written that the fact that repentance helps is beyond the letter of the law. Beyond the letter of the law—really, God does not owe us forgiveness, but beyond the letter of the law He forgives us. So he says: we understand being lenient beyond the letter of the law, but not being strict beyond the letter of the law. Right? So when a person—when a person regrets his former deeds, a righteous person who regrets his former deeds loses his merits. Why does he lose his merits? What he did, he did. What, are you going to say that God, beyond the letter of the law, acts against him and takes away his merits? Fine—if God benefits him beyond the letter of the law, that tilts toward kindness. Right? So someone—never mind—there’s some answer to that. But someone asked me, when I mentioned this, he said: look, you go to the bank and tell them, look, I have a thousand shekels in my account, in the black. Your bank is so nice—take it, give a bonus to the employees, take my thousand shekels in the account and enjoy yourselves. Excellent, thank you very much, well done, goodbye. He gets the Bank’s Distinguished Customer Award. Then someone else comes and says, look, Mr. Bank Manager, in my account there is negative one thousand. You’re all so nice, so good—take my negative thousand and enjoy yourselves. Meaning, if I can give him what is in my account in the black, why can’t I also give him what is in my account in the red? That’s nonsense, obviously, right? Now when I say, when I repent, I want to erase sins, I want to erase a negative balance. Erasing a negative balance is beyond the letter of the law. I don’t deserve to have my negative erased. But when I want to erase a positive balance—someone who regrets his former deeds is someone who wants to erase a positive balance. When he comes to erase a positive balance, of course he can; that’s the basic law—you can forgo the positive that is owed to you. That positive is yours, right? Yeshiva students don’t always notice these practical distinctions laymen notice, but it’s a simple distinction. Now here too, it’s the same thing. And here it’s not about credibility, by the way—that’s why I’m bringing this example.

[Speaker C] No, on the contrary. I’m not that much of a layman.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, on the contrary—I said here it’s not credibility. I’m showing you that even outside the realm of credibility there is a difference between acting in favor of your interest and acting against your interest.

[Speaker C] The distinction I meant to say has nothing to do with that. Maybe it’s also practical, but from another direction. After all, why did they create these things like terumah, for example? Right? Why was I given the power to make terumah? So that I can eat.

[Speaker D] Right?

[Speaker C] So it’s relevant—the power was given only to someone whom it helps. Meaning, they didn’t create it for people who aren’t in that category. A person who could eat untithed produce anyway—they wouldn’t give him the power. So the agent can make terumah because he belongs to the group of people for whom this institution was created. So it’s like saying that only someone personally obligated can discharge others. They created this law for people of that type.

[Speaker B] Terumah—is that a law not from the Torah?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Which law? The law of separating terumah, or the law of agency?

[Speaker C] No, the law of separating terumah. And once he is a person capable of effecting the separation of terumah, he can do it for me too.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But he’s talking about the fact that the terumah I separate benefits me, not that I generally belong to the world of terumah.

[Speaker C] Right, that’s the point—that’s what he’s saying.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That this particular terumah benefits me, not that I too belong to the world of terumah and it’s relevant to me generally. That’s the point.

[Speaker C] Meaning, it’s some expansion of that idea in a specific way. For every such act they established that you have the power to effect it only if it is relevant to you. If you gain nothing from it at all, then you don’t have that power. That’s the question—why?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m saying: the first rationale I understand, but this rationale I don’t understand. The first rationale I understand—that’s basically a bit like being in the legal category of the matter. But that’s exactly what I’m saying: here it’s not the same as that rationale of being in the category, because here he says that this very act that I’m doing—not the type of act, but this act itself that I’m doing—has implications for me as well.

[Speaker C] I understand the particular point. I’m saying: well, you could say that even if I’m in the legal category of terumah, if I’m doing an act that has no implication for me at all, then they didn’t give me the power to effect it. Only if you yourself will benefit. And therefore he claims, as it were, that in order to say you can effect it on my behalf, there has to be something in it for you too.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I don’t know, maybe. I’m not… In any case, the example from seizing for a creditor is not a good example. Seizing for a creditor is about “it is in his power.”

[Speaker C] In his power to do something else. To seize for himself? Yes, but it’s not exactly the same thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. What? He brings the example of seizing for a creditor.

[Speaker C] Right, fine, but there I think it’s not a good example, because it’s not the same thing—seizing for a creditor. This “it is in his power” to seize for himself—that can’t permit him to seize for someone else. Why not? In principle he could seize for himself and transfer it to someone else. What do you mean?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, it’s not the same thing. No—that’s the whole idea of “it is in his power.”

[Speaker C] I can seize for myself, which means removing it from his ownership, and then I’ve seized it.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s like Rabbi Natan’s lien. Instead of having it pass through me, I just seize it directly for him.

[Speaker C] But in principle, since I could have done it through myself, then why not?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Logic says I can do this directly. No, that’s a good question, but without that, how would this work? No, no—the reasoning of Rabbi Natan’s lien, leave that aside. Even if there were no Rabbi Natan, I’m saying: if you can do it through him to the other person, then you can do it directly to the other person. Why go the long way around? Right, it’s the same thing.

[Speaker C] Fine, but why are there those who disagree with Rav Natan despite that excellent reasoning? Because they hold that you can’t. The fact that I can do something through a third link doesn’t mean…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, Rabbi Natan—not that. Rabbi Natan is something else. Rabbi Natan says whom I sue. I’m not talking here about that question. I don’t think anyone would disagree that “acting through his hand” lets you acquire on behalf of someone else. That’s not connected to Rabbi Natan.

[Speaker C] In practice, you’re allowed to take a debt from him and give it to me, but you can’t take from him to him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why not? Think of it as if I took from myself to myself—I just did it directly. It seems to me a completely simple piece of reasoning, I don’t know. Okay. Anyway, so the Mishnah… Well, before I get to that Mishnah, I still want to touch on the continuation of the Talmudic text, because I’m going to need it. We’ll come back afterward to terumah, but we’ll also need this introduction. The Talmud later says this: “But as to that which Rav Giddel said in the name of Rav: From where do we know that a person’s agent is like himself? As it is said, ‘One prince, one prince from each tribe’—let agency be derived from here.” “One prince, one prince from each tribe”—the prince would acquire on behalf of the tribe their portions in the Land. Right? So let agency be derived from here. We have another source, and in this case, by the way, the Talmud has reversed course. Right? Until now I said that the Talmud doesn’t bring additional sources and ask why they’re needed; rather, it brings additional contexts and asks whether we can learn from divorce to those additional sources, to those additional contexts. Now the Talmud really changes direction, and now it brings another source and asks why it’s needed. It says: “Let agency be derived from here.” But can you really think that this is agency? Minors are not subject to agency. After all, this can’t be agency, because the prince acquired also on behalf of minors, and with minors you can’t… Rather, it is like that statement of Rav Abba bar Rav Huna, as Abba bar Rav Huna said in the name of Rav Giddel who said in the name of Rav: From where do we know that one may acquire for a person in his absence? As it is said: ‘One prince, one prince.’” So from here they derive the law of acquisition on behalf of someone. We talked about that law. And then: “But can you really think it is purely a benefit? There is also a disadvantage, because one person prefers a mountain region and not a valley, and another prefers a valley and not a mountain.” Right—the prince also decided which inheritance goes to whom. Now there are different tracts; someone prefers this kind of inheritance and someone else prefers another. So the Talmud says: Rather, it is like the statement of Rav Abba bar Rav Huna, for Abba bar Rav Huna said in the name of Rav Giddel who said in the name of Rav: From where do we know that when orphans come to divide their father’s estate, the religious court appoints them a guardian, both to their detriment and to their benefit? To their detriment—why? Rather, to their detriment for the sake of their benefit. As the verse says: ‘One prince, one prince.’ In short, either this is by virtue of acquiring on someone’s behalf, or it is by virtue of guardianship. And a guardian can perform an act that has some disadvantage to it if that’s required for the benefit. Because the alternative—that we not secure anything for minors at all—that’s worst for them. So in order for it to be possible at all to secure things for minors, they allowed him to acquire on their behalf even though it’s possible that maybe this isn’t the parcel of land most convenient for them. In any event, this is the source for the law of acquiring on someone’s behalf. Okay. Beyond that, you also see that straightforwardly it seems there is such a law on behalf of a minor from this Talmudic passage. So we’ll talk more about that; it’s not so simple, but that’s what it apparently looks like here. Now on the face of it, this mechanism of acquiring on behalf of someone is different from the mechanism of agency. It’s a different mechanism. In the medieval authorities (Rishonim) themselves there are discussions, and in the later authorities (Acharonim) there are also long discussions, whether acquiring on behalf of someone operates because of agency or not because of agency. The medieval authorities already discuss this. It’s not at all clear what that means—what exactly is the discussion there? Meaning, acquisition on behalf of someone is or is not because of agency. There’s a mechanism of acquiring on behalf of someone where no appointment is needed, and there’s a mechanism of agency, which is the regular mechanism, the one we derive from divorce or from terumah or whatever it may be. What does it mean that acquisition on behalf of someone is because of agency? The source is certainly a different source. We see here that there is a different source. So why would you say the mechanism is not the same mechanism? What does it mean, not the same mechanism? It’s performing the same act. Someone else acts on my behalf and it works. It’s just that where this thing is a benefit, you don’t have to appoint him. The Torah allows him to act even if I didn’t appoint him. That’s what’s called the law of acquiring on someone’s behalf. But still, he’s functioning here as an agent. In what sense is acquisition not because of agency?

[Speaker C] In what sense is he not functioning as an agent? Why? Because it’s not certain that he draws the power from me. Because it could be that, for example, with a guardian he has a power of…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, because a guardian is not by virtue of acquisition on behalf of someone; it appears here as an alternative.

[Speaker C] But I gave it as an example. An agent acts… a guardian acts on my behalf, but he already has… he has the ability to bring about things that the minor himself can’t bring about. That’s a sign that not whenever someone acts for me is he acting by my power.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying: then what is it? Okay, so what is called acquisition on behalf of someone not because of agency?

[Speaker C] What that means is that the law recognizes a guardian—what?—that for the general good, or whatever the rationale is at the moment, a person has the right to effect things for someone else, but not by that person’s power. Meaning there’s no connection to his power. It could be the person has no power at all—for example he’s mentally incompetent, or not legally competent, or nothing—and I can act for him and it will be effective, even for a minor, say, and that’s the…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, so what you’re really saying is not that it’s a different kind of agency mechanism; it’s simply not agency. I’m not acting by his power at all. Fine. About that—when we get to the law of acquiring on behalf of someone, we’ll talk a bit more about it.

[Speaker B] But—

[Speaker E] What about a case where it’s not with his knowledge? Meaning, not with the person’s awareness at all.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s obvious. There’s no dispute about that. With his knowledge? “One may acquire for a person in his absence”—there’s no dispute about that.

[Speaker C] About that—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Everyone agrees.

[Speaker B] If Reuven sends…

[Speaker C] No, there is a sense in which it is with his knowledge, because it’s included in his general agreement that people acquire for him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What are you saying?

[Speaker B] If Reuven—

[Speaker C] —sends—

[Speaker B] —money to Shimon, and Shimon dies before the agent arrives, is the money the heirs’, or Reuven’s? Or the agent’s?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not the agent’s, obviously not—what do you mean? If it’s an agent for delivery…

[Speaker B] The agent’s obviously not. And in the case of acquiring on someone’s behalf? In this case there’s no… no, there’s no connection, you’re mixing things up.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re distinguishing between an agent for delivery and an agent for receipt, not between acquisition on behalf of someone and agency. The question is whether the agent is the agent of the recipient or the agent of the giver. If he’s the giver’s agent, then the money belongs to the giver until it is finally given to the one who is supposed to receive it. If he’s the recipient’s agent, then the moment the money reaches the agent’s hand, it has already passed into the recipient’s possession.

[Speaker B] That’s the difference—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Between an agent for delivery and an agent for receipt. It’s not a question of acquisition on behalf of someone versus the law of agency. There are two mechanisms here. What? And with acquisition on behalf of someone, really, it’s the same thing… In acquisition on behalf of someone too, it’s the same—acquiring on behalf of someone is an agent in every respect, an agent for delivery. It’s not an agent for receipt. Acquiring on behalf of someone is an agent for delivery in principle, meaning he performs—

[Speaker B] —actions.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the case of the division of the Land, we’re talking about acquiring on behalf of the minors.

[Speaker B] Suppose the minor dies. Presumably the land won’t return either to Moses’ possession or to the Holy One, blessed be He, so does it belong to the heirs?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, after he already acquired it? The minor? That’s just a general question of inheritance with a minor. What do they do with inheritance of a minor? Then it goes to his father. So there are two mechanisms here: acquiring on someone’s behalf and agency. I mentioned: does acquiring on someone’s behalf operate because of agency or not because of agency—there are disputes about that. I’ll just note: Rabbi Akiva Eiger in Ketubot 11a argues—and a number of later authorities say this as well, Rabbi Chaim says it and others—that there is no dispute that acquiring on behalf of someone is because of agency. The question is about one detail or another, but fundamentally acquiring on behalf of someone is indeed some kind of agency that does not require appointment. So for example one of the practical differences they bring is the one in our passage here. Here in the passage they say that clearly the law of acquiring on behalf of someone is effective even for a minor; agency is not effective for a minor. And if acquiring on behalf of someone were because of agency, then acquisition too would not be able to work for a minor. So how can the Talmud here bring as an alternative that it works by virtue of acquiring on someone’s behalf—ah, then there’s no problem, so it can work even for a minor? It can’t be agency, so acquisition yes. So you see that acquisition on behalf of someone is not because of agency. So Rabbi Akiva Eiger says: not true. Acquiring on behalf of someone is because of agency. What that means is that the mechanism of acquiring on behalf of someone is an agency mechanism, but obviously no appointment is required. Now when I can’t be an agent of a minor, that’s because a minor can’t appoint an agent. But an agency of this kind, where no appointment is needed in order for it to take effect—there’s no problem that it should work for a minor too. The problem with agency for a minor is not that I can’t be the minor’s agent, but that the minor can’t appoint me as an agent. Okay? If no appointment is needed, then there’s no problem. Therefore even according to the view that acquiring on behalf of someone is indeed because of agency, there’s no difficulty from our passage here. And of course this only strengthens what I said before: so what exactly is the difference between saying acquiring on behalf of someone is because of agency and saying it isn’t because of agency? Because Rabbi Akiva Eiger basically wants to claim that even if acquiring on behalf of someone is because of agency, it would still work for a minor. Here you need to understand—for example with a gentile, maybe not. With a gentile, meaning, acquiring on behalf of someone might work and agency might not work according to the one who says that acquiring on behalf of someone is not because of agency, because with a gentile the problem is not that he can’t appoint him, but that he can’t be my agent at all—if I assume that. Fine, and we’ll get back to that. In any event, we have these two mechanisms here. Now I want to present a third mechanism. I see we already have to finish, so I’ll just present a third mechanism and we’ll return to it next time. There’s another possibility. Meaning, when my agent separates terumah for me, one could have said he is my agent; one could have said he acts by virtue of acquiring on my behalf, a benefit for me. And there’s the question of acquiring from a person, never mind, there are all sorts of discussions about this. Is acquiring on someone’s behalf only to receive things for me, or also to do actions for me that I want—but this is an action that takes something out of me? Terumah, for example, is to take the item from me and make it terumah, so that is really acquiring from a person, not acquiring for a person. And the question is whether there is any law of acquiring on someone’s behalf in such a case at all. But that’s the second possibility. A third possibility—and I hinted at this before—might be that with terumah we don’t need either agency or acquisition at all. You do the act; there’s no need at all that I be the one to do the act of separating terumah. After all, both the concept of acquisition and the concept of agency are innovations in a place where, basically, I’m the one who has to do the act. So what happens if I don’t want to do the act—I want someone else to do the act? For that we have the law of agency. If it’s a complete benefit, then the Torah says that even without my appointing him as an agent, he can act on my behalf—

[Speaker C] —and it’s considered as if I did the—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —act.

[Speaker C] But there could be a situation where there are certain acts that simply don’t need to be done by me at all. For example—yes, right—a kind of “monkey action.” For example, a parapet on a house. Okay? So there’s a bit of room for discussion here, but I’m bringing it only as an example. If someone got up and built a parapet on my house, okay? Does he have to be my agent, or does he have to act by virtue of acquisition on my behalf, in order for that parapet to count as a parapet? No—there’s a parapet on the house. But why does the matter take effect when he performed the act of separating terumah?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] To perform the act of separating terumah, yes, that’s needed. It doesn’t have to be me doing it; someone else can do it too. Why is that not redundant? No, I said it doesn’t have to be me doing it.

[Speaker C] Here it’s someone else’s separation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that was the earlier question I asked: since terumah is by thought, why do we need agency at all? I’m saying something else. Let’s say an act is needed, for the sake of argument—but—

[Speaker C] —it doesn’t need to be mine.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So then the fact that your act is effective for me is not that it is effective for me. Acquisition and agency mean that your act is effective for me. The baseline is that it has to be my act. But there’s another option: what is needed is that terumah be separated, just as a parapet be erected. It may be that the commandment of erecting a parapet won’t be fulfilled, but the house has a parapet on it; you can’t say that I left bloodguilt in my house. Right, that’s obvious. There is a parapet on the house. That’s a fact, even if he’s not my agent and nothing of the sort. For circumcision of a baby, for example, there are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who argue that the mohel does not need to be my agent. If the baby is circumcised, then he is circumcised; he doesn’t need to be my agent. Now, if you jumped in and circumcised my son, it may be that I lost the commandment. Maybe you’d have to give me ten gold coins—there’s a rabbinic penalty for one who steals a commandment. But you don’t need to be my agent in order for the circumcision to be valid, or for the parapet to exist, and the same would apply to terumah. So it could be that I won’t have the commandment if you weren’t my agent, but the terumah is still terumah. It could be without agency and without acquisition. Just because…

[Speaker C] Can even a gentile build a parapet?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, of course—what do you mean? A gentile can certainly build a parapet; even a monkey can.

[Speaker C] So because of that all the parapets here are forbidden?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, exactly. In our house, the cubit-by-cubit patch left unpainted in memory of Jerusalem was done by Jihad. I tried—with my two left hands—I tried hammering there, and not a grain came off. I can’t understand what the problem is with scraping plaster off a wall. I banged and banged, drove the wall crazy, was afraid I’d ruin the wall—nothing, not a grain came off. Jihad came, and before he went up to Mecca with his mother, he managed, just like that, within a day or two, to finish off that cubit-by-cubit patch for me.

[Speaker B] Is that something that really has to be done? After the fact, if the wall is painted, aren’t you supposed to leave it painted? What do you mean? The idea is not to paint it in the first place, and if it was painted, then—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Paint it or scrape off the paint.

[Speaker B] The “cubit by cubit” is a remembrance of the destruction, so that you remember the destruction, right.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, never mind. In any event, what I just want to put on the table here—and next time we’ll try to see it—is that one can definitely say that for separating terumah you need neither that he be my agent nor that he acquire on my behalf, that he do it for me by virtue of acquisition on my behalf. It may be that it isn’t necessary that I do it at all. Now, yes, apparently some consent is still needed. Meaning, I have to agree that you separate it. It can’t be that a person comes onto my property, acts there as if it were his own, makes terumot, does whatever he wants—just as he can’t trespass and come into my house in order to build a parapet, because he’s trespassing. No, I have to permit him to enter, okay? But that doesn’t touch the question of whether there is a parapet here. Okay? Now this is a bit different from a parapet, because here, without my consent, my intuition tells me that it also would not be terumah at all. Not only would you be violating theft or I don’t know exactly what, but it also wouldn’t be terumah altogether. But still, on the conceptual level, we’re dealing here not with agency and not with acquisition, but with consent alone. Why am I presenting this? Because each of these three options raises the question of how we derive the law of agency from here. If it’s talking about acquisition on someone’s behalf, then you can’t derive from here the law of agency. If it’s talking about consent, then you can’t derive from here the law of agency at all, regardless of whether acquisition on someone’s behalf is because of agency or not. That’s a third mechanism. Okay, so now we’ll have to see exactly what is going on here in the separation of terumah: whether it’s agency, whether it’s acquisition on someone’s behalf, or whether it’s consent—and how the law of agency is derived from here. Okay.

[Speaker E] A question-answer for next time in the Talmudic text. If I invite a gentile for the Sabbath—what, as a guest? Yes.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, a convert, in the process of… okay.

[Speaker E] So the question is what milk one has to be careful about… I don’t know whether it’s even problematic at all to invite him for Sabbath also in terms of eating. You can invite people who are close, if there is… no, that certainly isn’t a problem.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Certainly not a problem. If he’s on the way to conversion, certainly not a problem. On the contrary: the question is, say, a gentile is forbidden to keep Sabbath, right? So what does a gentile in the process of conversion do? So there are those who insist that he perform some small act of desecrating the Sabbath, but there are views that even that need not be done while he is still a gentile. And if he does this in the process of conversion, then he’s doing it in order to observe it when he will be a Jew. So it’s not problematic, and he doesn’t even need to do that little Sabbath desecration. Same thing here: the concern of excessive social closeness exists because he’s a gentile, but if you’re doing it as part of the process by which he becomes a Jew, I think there’s no problem in that. On the contrary, there’s value in drawing converts near. Yes.

[Speaker E] Just in terms of, say, lighting a fire, things like that? On Sabbath? Say, I don’t know, he cooks on Sabbath.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Like any gentile—what do you mean? He’s allowed to do that. He’s a gentile. I don’t understand.

[Speaker E] No, but suppose I now want to eat from the food he cooked.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Like any gentile—not like a Jew, like a gentile. If it’s a prohibited act of a gentile, then it’s prohibited; if it’s a forbidden Sabbath act, then it’s prohibited; if he did it for you, it depends. After Sabbath, it depends. All the laws are like those for a gentile, in my opinion; I don’t think there’s any difference. From the standpoint of formal Jewish law, he is a gentile. But from the standpoint of policy, of how one ought to behave toward him, he is like a Jew—that is, he is on the way to becoming a Jew. Social closeness and all those kinds of things—so he is, as it were…

[Speaker E] But say now he doesn’t convert.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What, afterward? He changed his mind? Okay.

[Speaker E] And then say he wants once again, I don’t know, once again to come as a guest and things like that? Okay.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here I would say: he’s like an ordinary gentile friend.