Observance of the Commandments, Lesson 3

Table of Contents

• Unconditional commitment and accepting something as a god
• Service not for its own sake and the instrumental value of commandments
• Reasons for the commandments versus a person’s motivation
• Pleasure in Torah study and the distinction of the Eglei Tal
• Causing a secular person to sin and the framework of “do not place a stumbling block”
• Methodology: initial intuition and halakhic inquiry
• The essence of “do not place a stumbling block”: action, not result
• The need to check whether there is actually a “failure” on the part of the one who stumbles
• Maimonides in Laws of Kings: the seven Noahide commandments and the condition of belief
• Extending the principle to Jews and the location of the law in Maimonides
• Implications: pioneers, settling the Land, soldiers, and tefillin worn by an atheist
• Greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does
• Sukkah in the rain: Oneg Yom Tov and Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman
• Consciousness, the subconscious, and the divine spark
• Compelling a divorce and Maimonides’ “we compel him until he says, ‘I want to’”
• The example of saving a life from a practical motive and the parallel to morality
• Interim summary: positive commandments require belief, and the question of prohibitions

Summary

General overview

The lecture defines the service of God as accepting an unconditional obligation to the command, and distinguishes between acting out of obligation and acting out of love, fear, logic, morality, or national benefit. It argues that someone who keeps commandments in order to achieve some goal—even a religious or moral goal—is acting not for its own sake, and is not even fulfilling a commandment in the essential sense, though acting not for its own sake still has some value. From there, the lecture moves to examining the basic assumption in discussions among halakhic decisors about causing a secular person to sin, and asks whether there is even a “transgression” at all for someone who does not believe, using a methodology that begins with intuition and then checks whether it has grounding in the sources. It bases the claim that positive commandments “require belief” on Maimonides in Laws of Kings regarding a resident alien, and leaves open the question whether prohibitions as well “require belief,” and what that would mean for “do not place a stumbling block” in relation to secular Jews.

Unconditional commitment and accepting something as a god

Maimonides rules that the condition for being liable for idol worship is accepting the idol as a god, and if someone serves it out of love or fear without accepting it as a god, he is exempt. Accepting it as a god is defined as unconditional commitment, where “whatever it says, I do,” as opposed to acting out of love or fear, which already has an aim and a purpose. Religious service in its essential sense is presented as a decision to be committed without a reason, and love and fear have value only when they accompany a basic commitment rather than replace it.

Service not for its own sake and the instrumental value of commandments

The argument is that performing commandments for the sake of a goal—even an excellent goal, like preserving national culture or even love and fear of the Holy One, blessed be He—is not fulfillment of a commandment in the essential sense, but service not for its own sake. Ahad Ha’am is presented as an extreme example of an instrumental approach in which the commandments are “national glue,” and the saying, “More than the Jews kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath kept the Jews,” is described as a well-known rabbinic-style saying that Ahad Ha’am invented. The Sages say that a person should always engage in Torah even not for its own sake, because from not for its own sake one comes to for its own sake. So there is value to acting not for its own sake, but it is still not full fulfillment of a commandment.

Reasons for the commandments versus a person’s motivation

The central distinction is between the question of why the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded the commandments, and the psychological question of why a person observes them. The reasons for the commandments deal with the reason for the divine command, and do not contradict the demand that a person fulfill them because they were commanded, and not because of benefit, logic, or emotion. The example of the sciatic nerve, in the dispute over whether it applies to kosher or non-kosher animals, leads to Maimonides’ interpretation that “they were commanded at Sinai” is a normative claim: one performs the commandment because it was commanded at Sinai, even though it had already been said to Jacob. In that way the distinction is sharpened between the historical-content reason and the motive for fulfillment.

Pleasure in Torah study and the distinction of the Eglei Tal

The Eglei Tal is mentioned as teaching that enjoying Torah study does not turn the study into something not for its own sake, and even improves understanding, internalization, and memory; that is why we ask, “Please make the words of Your Torah sweet in our mouths.” At the same time, he admits that if a person studies because of the pleasure—so that without the pleasure he would not study—then it is study not for its own sake. The distinction is formulated as the difference between pleasure as a result of study and study as a result of pleasure.

Causing a secular person to sin and the framework of “do not place a stumbling block”

Discussions by halakhic decisors about hosting secular Jews, arriving by car to the synagogue, and avoiding causing them to sin on the Sabbath are presented as taking for granted that there is a prohibition of “do not place a stumbling block” in relation to a secular person. The lecture raises a fundamental doubt: is it even possible to cause a secular person to sin—not just whether it is permitted? It expresses a sense that the formalism of “do not place a stumbling block” in cases where the secular person “doesn’t even understand what’s going on” feels artificial. A claim is cited in the name of Rabbi Schlesinger that teaching Torah to a non-Jew is “do not place a stumbling block,” because a non-Jew who studies Torah is liable to death; and the Talmud in Avodah Zarah 15 is also brought, about giving a cup of wine to a Nazirite and a limb from a living animal to a Noahide, in order to raise the question whether there is really an a fortiori argument from there to a Jew who does not believe.

Methodology: initial intuition and halakhic inquiry

An idea is cited in the name of Rabbi Soloveitchik as a matter of methodology: one does not enter a topic as a blank slate, and an initial intuition can guide the way one studies and searches for positions, without leading to intellectual dishonesty. The starting point is presented as a trigger for finding possibilities that otherwise would never have been sought, while the demand remains that the proofs and arguments must still stand up to scrutiny.

The essence of “do not place a stumbling block”: action, not result

“Do not place a stumbling block” is defined as a prohibition on the act of causing another to stumble, committed by the one who causes the stumbling, and not as a result-based prohibition of “increasing the number of transgressions in the world.” The proof is the opinions that exempt causing stumbling through speech, and the Talmudic distinction between “the two sides of the river” and “the same side of the river,” which shows that the prohibition depends on the specific connection between the one causing the stumbling and the deed. Rashi at the beginning of Parashat Mattot is cited as saying that one who causes his fellow to stumble enters under his punishment, and Maimonides is mentioned in contexts where one who renders a priest impure receives lashes even though he himself is not a priest, to illustrate that the one who creates the transgression can in some senses be regarded as bearing it.

The need to check whether there is actually a “failure” on the part of the one who stumbles

It is argued that halakhic decisors usually discuss the question whether there was an act of causing someone to stumble, but do not examine the question whether, on the side of the secular person, any stumbling block was created at all—that is, whether his act is even defined as a transgression. The lecture states that “do not place a stumbling block” also requires that an actual transgression be added on the part of the one who stumbles. Therefore, if his act is not a transgression, then there is no violation of “do not place a stumbling block,” even if the act of causing stumbling on the part of the other person is complete. From there the way is opened to examine the status of a secular person’s actions not only from the perspective of the one causing the stumbling, but from the perspective of the one who stumbles.

Maimonides in Laws of Kings: the seven Noahide commandments and the condition of belief

Maimonides in Laws of Kings, chapter 8, law 11, is cited: “Anyone who accepts the seven commandments and is careful to perform them is among the pious of the nations of the world and has a share in the World to Come,” and he emphasizes that one must accept and perform them “because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them in the Torah and informed us of them through Moses our teacher.” If he does them “because reason compels it,” Maimonides rules, “this is not a resident alien and he is not among the pious of the nations of the world but among their wise men,” with a note about a variant reading that has “and not among their wise men,” though the version “but among their wise men” is presented as more correct. The conclusion is that commandments and good deeds are two different things, and a commandment is a response to a command, not an action done because it seems right.

Extending the principle to Jews and the location of the law in Maimonides

It is argued that Maimonides’ principle is not limited to a resident alien, and that later authorities such as Sho’el U-Meshiv and Avnei Nezer simply assume that it applies to a Jew as well, so that someone who performs commandments without accepting God as commander—“that’s not a commandment.” It is explained that Maimonides placed this in Laws of Kings because specifically for Noahides the commandments are “rational commandments,” where it is more natural for a person to act because reason compels it, whereas many commandments of Israel are not of that kind. The lecture formulates this as the general claim that “commandments require faith / belief,” and distinguishes it from the dispute over whether “commandments require intention,” which deals with the intention to fulfill one’s obligation.

Implications: pioneers, settling the Land, soldiers, and tefillin worn by an atheist

It is argued that an atheist pioneer does not fulfill the commandment of settling the Land of Israel, but merely does a good deed; and that an atheist soldier does not sanctify God’s name, because “there is no sanctification of God’s name through mere unintentional involvement,” and certainly not when “you don’t believe in the existence of the One being sanctified.” It is argued that an atheist who puts on tefillin because a Chabad emissary stopped him on the street does not fulfill a commandment, and when he later repents he will have to put them on again, because “he didn’t put on tefillin today.” If he recited a blessing, that blessing was in vain, and he also cannot discharge others of their obligation. The distinction is between “not for its own sake” in the case of a believer who acts from ulterior motives, and the action of someone who is not serving out of command at all, which is defined as “not a commandment at all.”

Greater is one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does

The claim is that “one who is not commanded and does” has value only when he believes and knows that the Holy One, blessed be He, exists and expects this, like a woman voluntarily performing a time-bound positive commandment. Someone who performs a religious act for aesthetic reasons or without any connection to command—like waving the lulav purely for enjoyment—is not fulfilling a commandment. Maimonides on the resident alien is understood as separating doing what is good from the standpoint of wisdom and morality from fulfilling a commandment from the standpoint of command.

Sukkah in the rain: Oneg Yom Tov and Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman

The Oneg Yom Tov asks why someone who sits in a sukkah when it is raining is called a fool rather than a transgressor, since “it is forbidden to make use of the wood of the sukkah.” Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, in Kovetz Shiurim on Beitzah 30, answers that when it rains, “this isn’t a sukkah. It’s a pergola.” A sukkah is not only a valid structure, but a structure serving for a commandment; therefore there is no use here of sukkah-wood when the commandment of sukkah does not apply in that situation. From here a broader claim is derived, that the definition of an object of a commandment depends on the context of use for the commandment and on designation.

Consciousness, the subconscious, and the divine spark

The lecture rejects the claim that an act can count as fulfillment of a commandment by virtue of some implicit belief or an unconscious “divine spark” in the style of Rabbi Kook, and states that Jewish law deals with conscious matters, and that religious and moral responsibility belongs only to action arising from a conscious decision. It is said that the field of philosophy of action, and the assignment of responsibility in law, support this—that a moral agent is someone who acts out of conscious decision, not as “an instrument in the hands of inner forces.”

Compelling a divorce and Maimonides’ “we compel him until he says, ‘I want to’”

It is argued that compulsion regarding a divorce according to Maimonides applies only when a person has a basic desire to fulfill commandments and the evil inclination overpowers him; then the blows “shake off” the evil inclination and reveal his true will. In the case of an atheist who has no connection to commandment observance, there is no such assumption, and therefore “it is not relevant to compel a divorce” in the same way. Marriage and divorce are presented as contractual procedures that can take effect even without a commandment, because the commandment is only a “side effect,” whereas the legal effect itself is created by the agreement of the parties and the halakhic act.

The example of saving a life from a practical motive and the parallel to morality

An example is given of someone who saves a person from a train track in order to avoid a mess, a police investigation, and being late for work, and it is said that this is a rescue that helped, but it is not a moral act because the motivation is not moral. The claim is that just as in ethics an action is judged according to the relevant motivation, so too in Jewish law the fulfillment of a commandment is judged according to the motivation of responding to the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. A dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehudah on the Sabbath is also mentioned regarding showing gratitude to the Romans, and it is explained that it depends on whether one takes intention or result into account when the act in practice does good.

Interim summary: positive commandments require belief, and the question of prohibitions

The lecture concludes that, for now, a principle has been laid down according to which positive commandments “require faith / belief,” and that this is different from the dispute over whether “commandments require intention.” It sets up for further discussion the question of prohibitions, where there is no concept of intending to fulfill one’s obligation, and asks whether “prohibitions also require faith / belief,” and what that would mean when one causes a person who does not believe to eat pork. The lecture ends by leaving the issue open for next time.

Last time we dealt with the question—we continued dealing with the question—of why one should keep the commandments. I’ll just remind you how we got to what I’m going to talk about today. I spoke about Maimonides, who says that the condition for being a proper idol worshiper is if you accept the idol as a god over you. And if you didn’t accept it as a god over you, but rather you worship idols out of love or fear, then you’re exempt. And I defined “accepting it as a god” as meaning unconditional commitment. In other words: whatever it says, I do. As opposed to someone whom I love or fear—there I do it because of the love, or for some purpose; if it’s fear, then I’m afraid something will happen to me, or something like that. Religious worship in its essential sense is basically a decision to be committed without a reason. And I talked a bit about the implications, about Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev and the young man fixing the wagon while wearing tefillin during the morning prayers, and other various strange implications. In the course of that, all sorts of questions came up: wait a second, what about someone who does things only for some reason, out of love and fear first of all—meaning, that’s usually portrayed as someone who serves God on a higher level. So I said that love and fear depend on where they appear on the map. Meaning, if fundamentally you act because you are committed, and in addition to that you also love and fear, then of course that’s excellent—that’s the best possible thing. But if you do it because of the love and fear, only because of that, then that is worship not for its own sake. Meaning, in essence, such a person is not really serving God. “God made one opposite the other.” So idolatry and the worship of God stand opposite one another in that sense. I’ll give a perhaps very extreme example, but I think it’s a good one here: Ahad Ha’am. Ahad Ha’am advocated keeping commandments—at least the Sabbath, but maybe beyond that as well—in order to preserve national culture, tradition as a national glue. “More than Israel kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath kept Israel,” that well-known saying of the sages which Ahad Ha’am invented. That approach basically says that the commandments have instrumental value. In other words, I do them in order to achieve a certain goal. It may be an excellent goal, but there is some goal for whose sake I keep the commandments. That itself means that you are not keeping commandments. Someone who keeps commandments for the sake of a goal—no matter what kind, even a good goal, even a religious goal, love and fear of the Holy One, blessed be He—that is not a commandment. Is this “from acting not for its own sake one comes to acting for its own sake”? In the end, if he reaches “for its own sake,” fine. But for now it is not for its own sake. Something done not for its own sake also has value. The sages say: “A person should always engage in Torah even not for its own sake, because from not for its own sake one comes to for its own sake.” Obviously. Such a thing has some value too. But there is no commandment fulfillment here in the essential sense. And all the whole literature on the reasons for the commandments? What? All the literature on the reasons for the commandments? To say why Maimonides gives a reason for some commandment? Not why to do it, but why we were commanded to do it. Those are two different things. One can discuss the question why the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded us to do something. That is the reasons for the commandments. But if your discussion is psychological—meaning, why a person keeps commandments, from what motivation he does so—if he keeps them in order to gain something, then he is not keeping a commandment. Those are two different things. I’m not saying the commandments have no reason. The commandments do have reasons. But when you perform the commandment, the question is: from what motivation are you doing it? Are you doing it for something, or are you doing it because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded it? Those are two different things. I’m not claiming there are no reasons for the commandments. Maimonides says both, so apparently it’s not a contradiction. Maimonides says both things, as we’ll see today. By the way, this is exactly the weekly Torah portion. Maimonides on the sciatic nerve. That was in parentheses. The sciatic nerve—at the beginning of the chapter on the sciatic nerve in the tractate… not Sabbath, actually later on in tractate Hullin—there appears a dispute over whether the prohibition of the sciatic nerve applies to a kosher animal or also to a non-kosher animal; whether it applies only to kosher beasts or also to non-kosher ones. And the argument in favor of saying that it applies also to a non-kosher animal is that we were commanded regarding the sciatic nerve before the giving of the Torah. “Kosher” meaning, before the giving of the Torah the people of Israel certainly did not eat only kosher animals—they had not yet been commanded. So what is this prohibition of the sciatic nerve? It applied to all the animals they ate then. What did they eat then? All animals, including non-kosher ones. So that is the argument, I think of Rabbi Yehuda, and therefore he says that it applies also to non-kosher animals. And the sages answer him that we—we, I no longer remember the exact wording of the Mishnah—that we do it because we were commanded at Sinai. Something like that; there’s some such expression there. So there is a dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) how to understand this, but Maimonides says: what does “we were commanded at Sinai” mean? It means that we do it because of the commandment at Sinai. This is not a historical claim that they were commanded not in Jacob’s time but rather at Mount Sinai. It is a normative claim: we do it because we were commanded at Sinai, even though in fact it had already been said to Jacob earlier. Meaning, there is some statement here that we do not refrain from eating the sciatic nerve because Jacob’s thigh was dislocated and we want to remember what happened to him, and so on. We do it because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded it at Mount Sinai. Now, true, He commanded it because of what happened to Jacob, and that’s all fine—that’s the whole interpretation of the book of Genesis, of our Torah portion. So one has to distinguish here between the motivation for why I do it and the question why the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded it. Right now I’m talking about the person’s motivation, not the reason for the commandment. Why does a person do it? A person does it not because of the reason but because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded it. I think I mentioned once—yes, I’m sure I mentioned it—when we talked about Torah study, I mentioned the introduction to Eglei Tal. Eglei Tal says—there is the well-known part and the less well-known part. Eglei Tal says that many make the mistake of thinking that someone who studies and enjoys it—that is study not for its own sake, because he is really studying for the pleasure and not because of the commandment. He says: there is no greater mistake than that. Obviously one should enjoy study, and enjoyment also improves the learning—you understand more, internalize more, remember more. Meaning, obviously enjoyment and joy improve learning. Every morning we recite the blessing: “Please make the words of Your Torah sweet in our mouths, Lord our God.” What, are we asking that the commandment be done not for its own sake? So clearly not. Rather, obviously yes—it is even part of Torah study, he claims—the enjoyment of learning. That is the well-known part of what he says. But there’s a paragraph immediately after that; the very next sentence he says: I do admit that if someone studies because of the enjoyment, then that is study not for its own sake. Meaning, what he is saying is that you’re allowed to enjoy it—and yes, this is what we once talked about, “too good to be kosher,” right? Meaning, if you enjoy it then something must be wrong—there’s this feeling—but no, that’s not true. You can enjoy it and it can still be perfectly kosher, perhaps even more kosher if you enjoy it. But if you do it because of the enjoyment, then it really is study not for its own sake. Meaning, if one morning you get up and don’t feel like learning, you don’t enjoy it, then you won’t study, right? That is the indication. Again, not because of the consequence that this makes it wrong—that is the indication that when you study, you study because of the enjoyment. Not that you enjoy it—we talked earlier about directions of correlation—not that enjoyment is the result of study, but that study is the result of enjoyment. Like fat people and dieting. So here too, the Avnei Nezer distinguishes between two things: you may enjoy it, but the enjoyment must not be the sole reason why you study, such that without it you would not study. Because then that is study not for its own sake. And again I say: study not for its own sake has value, but it is not the complete study, the study with full value. So one has to distinguish very precisely between these two planes. It’s like what you mentioned—the reasons for the commandments—it’s the same distinction. Meaning, certainly the commandments have reasons, and certainly they were given because they are supposed to achieve various benefits or prevent various harms. But the reason why I do this commandment, these commandments, is not the attainment of benefits and prevention of harms. These are two different planes of discussion. Okay, so from this came up the question: so what about non-religious Jews, or Jews who perform commandments for those reasons? I no longer even remember exactly how we got into this issue—the question of how we understand the relation to commandments performed by secular Jews. I said we’d devote one session to this, and next time I still intend to continue with the previous topic. Okay, we usually talk about these things in the context of causing a secular person to stumble into a transgression. So there are all kinds of legalistic discussions—you know, some say one has to be careful when stepping off the curb into the street on the Sabbath, not to put your foot there when a car is passing, because then he’ll stop and activate the brake lights, and you’ve caused him to violate the prohibition of kindling on the Sabbath. Or, I don’t know, the discussions about hosting a secular person and giving him food. There’s a responsum of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, and a responsum of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman on this—whether one may give him food; he doesn’t recite a blessing, okay, so then they justify it somehow. About coming by car to the synagogue, or inviting them to my house, or some family to my house, where again I’m causing them to violate prohibitions. And the discussions usually revolve around the question whether one may cause a person to stumble for certain needs. Meaning, in order to prevent desecration of God’s name, or even perhaps to bring him closer to Judaism. Meaning, true, I am causing him to commit a transgression, but maybe through the contact or through the synagogue visit or the home visit and so on, he may perhaps come closer. So the halakhic decisors discuss it from all sides. I want to—there are even decisors who say that a circumcision on the Sabbath should be postponed if you know the relatives will come by car. Yes, that’s from the same line of thought. But here it’s even a circumcision—something one absolutely must do. Right, true, I agree, it’s a continuation of the same issue. But all these discussions basically assume something that isn’t even disputed, and I want to discuss that assumption. The question is: can one even cause a secular person to stumble into a transgression? Not whether it is permitted—whether it is even possible. Meaning, is what he does actually a transgression? It always depends—if he became secular because he actually believes in other gods… I’ll define things a bit, I’ll define the differences a bit. But on the principled level, first of all the question arises in general: do I even need to get into discussions of the category of “do not place a stumbling block” when I’m dealing with a person who doesn’t believe? Do I still need to work with this formalism of yes causing him to stumble, no causing him to stumble, maybe there’s a permission, maybe there isn’t—all this back-and-forth, regardless now of what conclusion you reach, assumes one clear thing: that there is a prohibition involved in causing him to stumble. And the question is whether that’s true. I don’t know—intuitively it seems absurd to me, even before getting into sources. Intuitively it seems absurd to me. A person who has no connection at all to the matter—I’m talking right now about a certain kind of secular person, and of course one has to distinguish here between different types—a person to whom this means absolutely nothing, who has no idea what people are doing at all, who relates to those who do it as though they were Indians. So now you’re particular that he shouldn’t stop there in the road and turn on his headlights there—he doesn’t even know they turn on; he presses the brake because you’ve caused him to violate the prohibition of kindling on the Sabbath. Every moment of the drive he’s doing ten thousand other violations. So what exactly is the point here? Meaning, this violation now—again, you could say, fine, it’s quantitative, at least you’ve saved one violation. I don’t know. My gut says something here is not right. Meaning, this is not the correct framework for discussing this question. These halakhic definitions of “do not place a stumbling block”—something in this whole discussion, I think, has to be somewhat different.

Yesterday Rabbi Schlesinger gave a class here. One of the things he said was that someone who teaches Torah to a gentile violates “do not place a stumbling block,” because a gentile who studies Torah is liable to death. So he says that even with a gentile there is “do not place a stumbling block.” No—the Talmud says that. What is a gentile? The Talmud in Avodah Zarah 15 says that someone who gives a cup of wine to a Nazirite, or flesh torn from a living animal to a Noahide, violates “do not place a stumbling block.” Flesh torn from a living animal to a Noahide—clearly there is “do not place a stumbling block.” So all the more so for a Jew? Okay, so let’s see. I’ll examine that. I think it’s not an a fortiori argument, but let’s see. I’m saying the basic feeling, first of all, my basic feeling at least, is that there’s something terribly artificial, terribly illogical in this discussion. Something here—look, the guy made his decisions; the whole business simply doesn’t speak to him. I don’t agree, I think it’s a disaster, it will bring trouble upon him and perhaps upon all of us, he is drilling a hole in the ship we all share—everyone knows all the arguments and all the midrashim. But the working assumption of someone who says there is “do not place a stumbling block” here is not the quantitative point, that it’s ten thousand plus one. It’s that you caused him to do it. Yes, in a moment I’ll get to the distinction. No one says you have to lie down in the road and not let him drive. First of all, no one says that. That’s not true—many do say it. No, most of them say there are only some who say it’s not realistic, that you won’t succeed. But if you would succeed, then obviously it’s prohibited. It’s the same thing. Someone who says that says this too. Yes, someone who says this says that too—he only says, listen, it isn’t realistic, you have no influence, it will just look bad, so don’t do it. Practical considerations. But in principle, saying that one has to stop him in the road—that is… you know, when you can’t attribute to yourself what he is doing right now, all the ten thousand other things—yes yes, of course. I’ll sharpen that in a moment. What is “do not place a stumbling block”? “Do not place a stumbling block” is not his transgression, it is my transgression. Yes, in another moment—it also perhaps depends on “you shall surely rebuke.” What, maybe also rebuke? Yes, there are all sorts of “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” and so on. So I’m saying: that’s the basic feeling. It seems to me I once mentioned something I heard from Rabbi Soloveitchik—I never saw it written, but he said it. It’s not that one comes to a topic as a blank slate, clarifies it, and whatever comes out is what one rules. That’s not usually how it works. I don’t think that is always true, but I do think it is often true. More than that, it seems to me that it is very true as methodological guidance. There are people who reject a statement of the sort I just made—that I have some initial intuition, and now I want to examine through that intuition what Jewish law says. And what? That’s your intuition—go study the Jewish law and see what comes out. What, are you subordinating the sources or the halakhic discussion to your own assumptions? So here I want to say that I don’t think that’s merely legitimate. That is actually the right way to proceed. Meaning, if you have some intuition about something, then learn the passages with those eyes. That doesn’t mean intellectual dishonesty. It only means trying to see whether there is room for such a view, and at least perhaps in some of the opinions, whether it can work. Then, as far as I’m concerned, since it makes sense, that’s what we should do. If I come with a different approach, I won’t find those opinions, and even if I do find them I won’t act according to them. So very often the initial intuition or point of departure with which we come to a topic is very important in determining what our conclusion will be. And again I say: I do not mean intellectual dishonesty. Meaning, the evidence has to stand the test. The arguments have to stand the test. But still, very often the point of departure from which you arrive has an influence, so that you can even find the arguments at all or attend to one set of opinions or another. It is very often the trigger for the search. Meaning, people to whom something seems obvious won’t go searching at all for the possibility that perhaps an act of a secular person cannot even be considered a transgression. But someone who says, look, intuitively this seems to me… let’s search whether and where such a thing can actually exist—then perhaps he really will find it. Meaning, very often you need that initial intuition as some kind of trigger for the search. After that, the search has to be conducted honestly. Meaning, you have to see whether you really found it or not. But the fact that you have a point of departure does not in any way, I think, invalidate the conclusion. On the contrary, I think that very often it is worthwhile to use these points of departure as a guiding line, as some sort of direction finder, and in the end to see whether it can be implemented in Jewish law or not.

Okay, here I really do need to begin with the distinction—the very correct distinction that you mentioned. We have to understand what the transgression of “do not place a stumbling block” is. The transgression of “do not place a stumbling block” is not simply that I—meaning, an increase of transgressions in the world. If the problem were only an increase of transgressions in the world, then if I caused someone to transgress, what happened here? Basically one more transgression was born into the world, one more transgression was done in the world, and that is problematic. Problematic for the one who did it, problematic for the world—it depends what kind of transgression, depends on the various conceptions. But it’s not just that. Because otherwise, for example, let me give you an example: there are halakhic decisors who say that if I cause someone to stumble through speech, then I have not violated “do not place a stumbling block.” You have to do it through action. Some say that; there’s a dispute. Now, regardless of whether they are right, how can one even make such a claim? What difference does it make if I did it through speech? Bottom line, I added one more transgression. Bottom line, I caused another transgression to be done in the world. What does that mean? It means that the transgression of “do not place a stumbling block” is not a result-based transgression. Meaning, it’s not that the moment another transgression is added to the world, that is my problem and therefore I violated “do not place a stumbling block.” It is clear that there has to be a very specific connection between me and this additional transgression. Meaning, this is really a transgression of my action: I caused someone to stumble into a transgression. That act of causing him to stumble is itself the problematic act. That’s what he means by speech. What? My speech. My speech that causes stumbling. Yes, exactly. So I’m saying, that is for example one approach, and there is lots of evidence for it. There are situations where, say, even the distinction between “the two sides of the river” and “the same side of the river”—yes, in that same Talmudic passage in Avodah Zarah that I mentioned, where one hands a cup of wine to a Nazirite—if the Nazirite can take it by himself, he doesn’t really need me, then when I hand him the cup of wine I have not violated “do not place a stumbling block.” But if it is “the two sides of the river,” he cannot take it—on opposite sides of the river, he can’t take that cup and he needs me in order to reach it—then I have violated “do not place a stumbling block.” Suppose that in a case where, had I not served it to him, he would not have done it. He can do it, but he wouldn’t have. He’s lazy, he can’t be bothered to go to that cup, so he says to me: bring me the cup. In the end it’s always like that. He can cross the river too. There’s a boat. Or he can call someone else on the phone to hand him that cup of wine from the other side of the river. In the end it’s only a question of how much effort is required in order for me to do it. In almost all cases—not always, but in most cases—it’s just a matter of effort. So then what is this distinction? In the end I’m supposed to worry that transgressions not be done in the world. What difference does it make whether I am necessary to it or not necessary to it? Bottom line, without me it would not have happened and with me it did happen, so I contributed one more transgression to the world’s balance sheet. You inferred from the dispute you mentioned—that there are those who say that if I cause stumbling by speech I do not transgress—that the simple interpretation of “do not place a stumbling block” is not the one that creates the logical link between them. I’m saying that if the problem of “do not place a stumbling block” is a result-based problem—meaning that simply another transgression was born into the world—then what difference does it make how I achieved that result? By speech or by deed. Bottom line, because of me another transgression was added. If it matters how I did it, then that means the transgression is not that a transgression came about because of me, but that I had a role in producing the transgression. This role in producing the transgression—Rashi goes so far as to say at the beginning of Matot that someone who causes his fellow to stumble enters into liability in his place. Basically, say, Maimonides writes in a few places—and everyone wonders what his source is—but in fact Rashi writes the same thing. Maimonides says that someone who commits a transgression upon his fellow is himself lashed for that transgression. For example, someone who rounds off another’s head—the prohibition of shaving the corners of the head, right? Both the shaver and the one shaved are prohibited. But in other cases where, say, someone renders a priest impure—I take a priest and render him impure—then I am lashed. For “do not place a stumbling block” you don’t get lashes, but I get lashes. For what do I get lashes? For making a priest impure. But I’m not a priest, I’m an Israelite. But if I perform the transgression on him, I render a priest impure—that is my action. Meaning, there is here, of course, an extreme version of what I said earlier: the act of creating the transgression is the transgression of “do not place a stumbling block,” not the result that one more transgression came into being. Isn’t that because in that case he isn’t really a partner at all? Who? The priest. I rendered him impure; he did nothing. Fine. So let no one get lashes. Why do they lash me? Am I a priest who became impure? Wait, but with “do not place a stumbling block” it’s not really “do not place a stumbling block” at all. There I cause him. No, that’s another discussion—the question whether he is inadvertent or intentional. Maimonides too, when you render a priest impure, is speaking only where the priest is inadvertent. When speaking of “do not place a stumbling block,” he is speaking where the person who stumbles is inadvertent. That’s the analogy. Okay? But I agree that he should not get lashes. But why should the one who renders him impure get lashes? He is not a priest and he did not become impure. And it makes no difference at all whether the priest believes or not. What? And it makes no difference at all—no, that’s another discussion. That we’ll discuss today. But perhaps. But I’m saying that the discussion of “do not place a stumbling block” is really a discussion of the prohibition I violate when I cause stumbling, not of the transgression created as a result of me. Therefore, the analogy they bring—that is one side of it. On the other hand, it is clear that if the other person did not commit a transgression, then the fact that I caused him to stumble—it’s not clear, but it is reasonable—that there is no “do not place a stumbling block” there. Some transgression has to be added because of my action in order for me to violate “do not place a stumbling block.” Meaning, I have to perform the action that creates the added transgression, but a transgression must actually be added. Without that, there is no “do not place a stumbling block” here. Therefore, when we discuss the question of “do not place a stumbling block” with respect to a secular person, one can also speak on the plane of causing the stumble—whether such causing really counts as causing. But here it seems there’s no… what difference does it make? It’s the same thing. On the contrary, where it’s a secular person, it’s as though he is inadvertent and I am deliberate, so it’s even worse. Then clearly there is a prohibition upon me, certainly according to Maimonides that I mentioned earlier. But we also have to discuss this from the side of the one who stumbled, the person caused to stumble. Meaning, if what he did is not a transgression, then what I caused him to do is not “do not place a stumbling block.” Because in the end, for me to violate “do not place a stumbling block,” a transgression has to be added. So therefore in this discussion we need to discuss both sides: also in the sense of whether I am causing stumbling—and this is what the halakhic decisors usually discuss, what I mentioned earlier: if I invite him to me for the Sabbath but the goal is to bring him somewhat closer to Judaism, and so on, or to prevent desecration of God’s name or things like that, then that is not called my causing him to stumble, because I do it in order to gain other gains or prevent other harms. But I’m saying: I want to conduct the discussion from the other side of the coin. I want to discuss whether there is even a stumbling here, not whether there is causing someone to stumble. Causing there is. If we take “do not place a stumbling block” in the literal sense: I dug a pit and a blind person is approaching, and someone else diverted his path so he doesn’t fall—did I violate it? That is the question. That’s why I went back and said earlier: it’s not clear. It’s a dispute, a dispute among the halakhic decisors. I would interpret it completely differently. “Do not place a stumbling block”—even if I give someone bad advice or something like that, I’m liable for “do not place a stumbling block.” Correct. If I tell him to commit a transgression, that’s because I gave him advice. The question is whether that is bad advice. If his transgression is not a transgression, then what bad advice is there here? If what he does is not a transgression, then there is no bad advice here either, there is nothing. Therefore, I am saying, that is exactly the point I want to sharpen: true, “do not place a stumbling block” does not focus on the question of what his transgression is, but rather on the question in what sense, or to what extent, I caused the transgression that he committed. That is clear, and therefore. Many times we move immediately into discussing the question of causing someone to stumble. Is there causing here? One second: two sides of the river, one side of the river; by words, by deeds—that is the question whether there was causing here. But one has to remember that there is another plane that needs discussion as well, and that is the question whether in the end an actual stumbling block was created. Even if I did it and there is no doubt that I did it—what did I do? Did I create a stumbling block? If yes, then there is “do not place a stumbling block” here. But here too one needs to discuss: did the person really commit a transgression? Because if not, then again there is no “do not place a stumbling block,” even if in terms of my act of causing him to stumble there was completely clear causing.