Fulfilling the Commandments: Lesson 6

Table of Contents

• Types of secular Jews and criteria for halakhic faith
• The difficulty of translating the Sages’ categories into modern reality, and the “captured child”
• Commitment to Sinai versus interpretive dispute: Conservatives, Karaites, and Christians
• The centrality of motivation: faith, practice, and Haredi anusim
• Not for its own sake, whether commandments require faith, and the concept of an apikoros
• Modern cultural change: less ideology and more “it doesn’t suit me”
• Excommunication, Spinoza, and communal justification
• The map of prohibitions: “you shall surely rebuke,” “do not place a stumbling block,” instructing, and directly causing someone to transgress
• Directly causing someone to transgress, Maimonides on mixed fibers and priestly impurity, and a son’s Sabbath rest
• From theory to practice: inviting someone for Sabbath, Sabbath desecration, and switching shifts

Summary

General Overview

The text lays out a typology of different kinds of unbelief and secularity, and argues that according to Maimonides in Laws of Kings, chapter 8, halakhically relevant faith requires not only belief in the Holy One, blessed be He, but also acceptance of the binding force of the giving of the Torah and the commandments that were given at Sinai. It argues that the Sages and the medieval authorities (Rishonim) mainly dealt with the phenomenon of sin “because of temptation,” and therefore it is hard to translate categories like “heretics” and “apikorsim” directly into modern language, where many people truly and sincerely do not believe, and are sometimes in the category of a “captured child” even if they grew up in a religious education. It then presents distinctions between the duty to rebuke and mutual responsibility, on the one hand, and different prohibitions of causing others to sin, on the other, and suggests that with regard to someone who does not believe at all, there may be no “do not place a stumbling block” in the ordinary sense, but there may still be a prohibition of directly causing someone to transgress, because that prohibition applies to the one doing the act, not to the recipient.

Types of secular Jews and criteria for halakhic faith

“Secular” is defined here as too broad a label, with many shades underneath it: someone who believes in the Holy One, blessed be He, but does not believe the commandments are binding; someone who believes they are binding but does not have the strength to observe them; and someone who is an atheist. Maimonides in Laws of Kings, chapter 8, sets a criterion of belief in the Holy One, blessed be He, together with belief in the binding nature of the giving of the Torah. A general belief in some being that created the world has no halakhic significance if there is no acceptance of obligation to the commandments. Maimonides defines one who acts because of rational conviction as “among the wise of the nations of the world,” but not “among their pious,” and unless one acts because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded Moses at Sinai, it is not considered fulfillment of commandments in the full sense.

The difficulty of translating the Sages’ categories into modern reality, and the “captured child”

The text assumes that the Sages saw many of the “wicked” and “deniers” as people acting because of temptation, not out of authentic heretical belief, and therefore Talmudic categories such as “they are lowered and not raised” do not fit easily with contemporary people who genuinely do not believe. The concept of a “captured child,” as Maimonides applies it to the “children of those who went astray in our time,” is described as fitting someone who does not believe not because of temptation but because of reasoning, education, and various other factors, and this is a different category from the Talmudic category of heretics. The text states that this is not a function of knowledge, and that even a tremendous Torah scholar who knows Talmud, medieval authorities (Rishonim) and later authorities (Acharonim), Mishnah Berurah, and halakhic decisors may still be considered a captured child if he truly does not believe.

Commitment to Sinai versus interpretive dispute: Conservatives, Karaites, and Christians

Someone who believes in the Holy One, blessed be He, and in the giving of the Torah and in the binding force of the commandments given at Sinai, but disputes the Sages’ interpretation or a particular halakhic ruling, is still considered a believer in the sense that his commandments are commandments and his prayer is prayer; he is still “inside the game.” The sociological categories are described as not sharply defined, but the principle remains that an interpretive dispute within acceptance of obligation from Sinai does not put someone outside the framework. With regard to Christians and to a Jew who converted to Christianity, the text points to a difficulty because of non-acceptance of the Oral Torah and even a claim that the Written Torah was changed, so it is harder to include that within the category, though under a broader interpretation one could still discuss it. With regard to Karaites, a question arises because they do not accept the Oral Torah at all, but the text distinguishes between an interpretive dispute and a dispute over the very giving of the Oral Torah at Sinai, and suggests that someone who accepts obligation to the command from Sinai but errs in the details may still be considered within the sphere of obligation, even if he commits prohibitions.

The centrality of motivation: faith, practice, and Haredi anusim

Motivation is defined as a factor that can bring a person into the category of obligation even if he does not observe in the accepted way, or remove a person from that category even if he in fact observes everything, when the observance is for national-cultural reasons rather than as a response to a command. The text describes the phenomenon of “Haredi anusim,” who see themselves as forced into Haredi norms despite having a different faith and service of God, and also the phenomenon of people under compulsion who believe in nothing at all but continue public observance because of a family and social framework. An example is given of a yeshiva teacher who is an atheist, and from this it is argued that a person may in practice observe “all the little clauses of the Mishnah Berurah” and nevertheless cannot be counted for a prayer quorum if he does not believe.

Not for its own sake, whether commandments require faith, and the concept of an apikoros

The text distinguishes between acting “not for its own sake” and lack of faith, and states that commandments may not require intention—there is a dispute about that—and certainly acting for its own sake is not indispensable, but commandments do require faith. One who does not believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, is not fulfilling a “commandment not for its own sake”; he is not fulfilling a commandment at all. An apikoros is defined here as someone acting because of temptation, and the story of Rav Ashi and Menasheh is brought to illustrate that idolatry was understood as a powerful temptation, something hard to understand today after the Men of the Great Assembly nullified the impulse toward idolatry and the impulse toward sexual transgression.

Modern cultural change: less ideology and more “it doesn’t suit me”

The text describes a social change in which people act less on the basis of truth versus falsehood or proofs, and more on the basis of “what works for me and what doesn’t work for me,” so that one can hear a whole sequence of theological agreement up to the point of “the commandments are binding,” and then get the answer, “that just doesn’t suit us right now.” An example is brought from Haggai Luber about a change in the dynamics around a bonfire between groups that once were charged with sharp disputes of faith and groups that now agree in principle but do not observe in practice for reasons of personal fit. The text argues that reality is less sharp than the theoretical categories, but it is still important to understand the typology and then decide in practice according to the circumstances.

Excommunication, Spinoza, and communal justification

Spinoza is presented as an example of someone who, by this definition, was under compulsion because of intellectual honesty, and the text states that the ban against him was, in that sense, a great mistake. At the same time, it raises the possibility that the ban was driven by considerations of danger to the community and not by a purely halakhic rationale, and says that in Spinoza’s time the phenomenon of the “secular Jew” was only in its beginnings and the conceptual tools for understanding it were lacking. The text asks why today all secular Jews are not placed under a ban, and answers that it is not merely a matter of practical impossibility, but of a new understanding of the phenomenon.

The map of prohibitions: “you shall surely rebuke,” “do not place a stumbling block,” instructing, and directly causing someone to transgress

Three distinct levels are presented: the obligation to save someone from transgression by force of “you shall surely rebuke,” mutual responsibility, and “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood”; the prohibition of causing someone to stumble, including the distinction between the “two sides of the river” case as “do not place a stumbling block” and the “one side of the river” case as mere assistance; and directly causing someone to transgress, meaning actually performing the prohibited act on behalf of the other person. It is argued that with respect to a captured child there is actually an obligation to try to “bring him back to the strength of the Torah,” and not to see him as a wicked person to whom “you owe nothing”; the difference is mainly in the practical assessment of the chances of success, not in the basic obligation in principle. Instructing a Jew who does not believe is presented as similar to instructing a non-Jew, which according to most opinions is a rabbinic prohibition, while regarding causing a stumbling block in the sense of “do not place a stumbling block,” it is argued that when the recipient is not in the category of someone committing a transgression, there is no “doing evil” to him, and therefore not necessarily any prohibition of “do not place a stumbling block.”

Directly causing someone to transgress, Maimonides on mixed fibers and priestly impurity, and a son’s Sabbath rest

The text cites the exposition of “you shall not let them eat” from Yevamot 114b as “you shall not feed them,” meaning a prohibition against feeding a minor forbidden food directly, even though “if a minor eats carrion, the religious court is not commanded to separate him from it.” It presents directly causing someone to transgress as a prohibition incumbent on the doer before the Holy One, blessed be He, and not as a utilitarian prohibition for the benefit of the recipient, and brings Maimonides at the end of the Laws of Mixed Fibers regarding “one who clothes another in mixed fibers,” according to whom the one who dresses him is lashed when the wearer is unintentional and the dresser intentional. From here comes the possibility that a Jew could violate the prohibition of priestly impurity by rendering a priest impure when the priest himself is acting unintentionally. It adds a discussion of a son’s rest on the Sabbath, and cites Rashba at the beginning of “One Who Was Overtaken by Darkness,” who learns from the verse “so that your son and your daughter may rest” a law of a son’s Sabbath rest, alongside the claim that there is no explicit hint to this in the Sages and that the medieval authorities discuss the case of a minor who comes to extinguish a fire and the rationale that “his rest is incumbent upon you.”

From theory to practice: inviting someone for Sabbath, Sabbath desecration, and switching shifts

The text concludes by saying that the practical discussion is supposed to come after connecting the “map of deniers” with the “map of situations,” and that cases to be discussed will include inviting someone for Sabbath when the trip involves Sabbath desecration, explicitly telling someone to perform prohibited labor, giving food without a blessing, and switching army duty with a secular Jew or a non-Jew. It raises a question about the significance of personal benefit in such a switch, and clarifies that the discussion of practical rulings is postponed for later.

On the topic of how to relate to non-believers, or secular people—”secular” is a label that, as I said last time, is too broad. There are several shades under it. There are people who believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, but don’t believe that He commanded us, or that His commandments obligate us. There are people who even believe that it is obligatory, but they just don’t have the strength—they don’t do everything, or don’t do anything at all, they just either do part of it or none of it. And there are people who are genuinely atheists.

Now, what I said—at least in Maimonides’ language in chapter 8 of the Laws of Kings—it seems that in order to be considered a believer for the matter we’re discussing here, one has to believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, and in the binding nature of the giving of the Torah. Meaning, someone who says in surveys, as people often say today, “I believe in some kind of entity that created the world”—that means nothing from a halakhic / of Jewish law standpoint. Meaning: if he does not accept being obligated by the commandments, then it has no significance. That’s what Maimonides says: someone who does things because of rational conviction is among the wise of the nations of the world, but not among their pious; that is, not among the righteous of the nations of the world but among their wise. Only if he does it because of the command that the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded Moses at Sinai. In other words, the alternative he speaks about as actual commandment-observance is someone who performs the commandments because of the command of the Holy One, blessed be He, to Moses at Sinai. So it’s not enough to believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, in a general way; you also have to believe that these commandments came from Him. Meaning, when you do these things, you are doing them as a response to His command. Otherwise your belief in the Holy One, blessed be He, is completely disconnected from the commandments, so as far as the commandments are concerned, it means nothing that you believe in the Holy One, blessed be He. After all, that doesn’t matter. Someone could believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, and think that the Holy One, blessed be He, requires him to stand on one foot every morning three times. Fine. That has no halakhic significance.

So those are the types of secular people we spoke about at some length last time. Today I want to continue, but before I continue I still need a few more clarifications. We spoke about—maybe the first clarification, which I think I already discussed last time as well—is that the wicked, or the non-believers, the heretics, the deniers, and so on, whom the Sages spoke about in their time, and maybe the medieval authorities (Rishonim) as well—I think it’s very hard to translate that into our language today. Because the assumption—at least my assumption—is that those people whom the Sages saw before their eyes were people who acted that way because of temptation, not because that was truly what they believed.

I think the concept of a “captured infant,” which Maimonides applies to “the children of the wanderers in our time”—that’s Maimonides’ phrase—and which the halakhic decisors also apply to people today, to non-believers today, is a concept that deals with people who truly and sincerely do not believe this. Not because of temptation. Their judgment, their education, whatever—each person has his reasons—but he simply truly does not believe it. Such a person is in a different category from the Talmudic category of heretics about whom it is said “they are lowered down but not raised up,” and all sorts of things like that.

And we know that at least in the Second Temple period there were all sorts of sects, all sorts of views. Right? It’s not as if this only exists now. I’m not sure, though—there were sects, but I’m not sure how the Sages viewed them. Meaning, if the Sages’ assumption was that every person understands that this is the correct thing to do—Jewish law—then they saw those sects too as something that was the result of temptation. Take the Sadducees, for example. My question is: if they performed commandments, they had some interpretation or something? Fine—that’s something completely different. Meaning, if someone comes and tells me: look, I believe in the giving of the Torah, in the Holy One, blessed be He, and in the Torah given at Sinai, and that we are obligated by it—I just think it means this; I don’t agree with this interpretation, even with the Sages’ interpretation. He is a believer. In my view that is legitimate in this sense—again, maybe not legitimate in other senses—but in the sense that his commandments are commandments, absolutely commandments. That’s something completely different from someone who doesn’t believe in the obligation of Sinai, not someone who interprets differently, okay?

So I’m saying we need to be careful. On the one hand, what I’m saying here is fairly far-reaching; on the other hand, it applies to a relatively limited group. Meaning: anyone who believes in the obligation of the commandments of the Holy One, blessed be He, given at Sinai is inside this framework, even if he’s Conservative, even if he has a different interpretation of the commandments—I don’t think there’s any problem with that.

Christians? A Christian is also an interesting question. A Jew who converted to Christianity? A Jew who converted to Christianity—this is why I say it’s better than it really is. Because the Christian basically does not accept the Oral Torah. Not that he doesn’t accept one interpretation or another. By the way, not even the Written Torah, because they say it changed. And here I think it’s harder to include them within the boundary. Although, you should know, with a very, very expansive interpretation maybe even they could be included. As the giving of the Torah as an event—yes, true. No, but if it’s not binding, then what difference does it make? Fine, I can believe historically that there was a giving of the Torah—so can a historian—but if he doesn’t believe it obligates, that doesn’t mean he’s within this framework. So yes, it’s far-reaching. But let’s say Conservatives—let’s take things closer to us. I think they are entirely inside. There is, after all, just a dispute over whether to interpret this way or that way, but overall they are definitely inside.

I think—again, I don’t know their theology there well enough about the giving of the Torah; I don’t exactly understand what they say. Torah from Heaven? And Written Torah? And Oral Torah? Yes, no—there are different shades, and it also depends whom you’re talking to. But I’m saying, take someone who practices Conservative customs. Fine, leave theology aside. I don’t know their theology very well, and there are different shades there too. You know that religious liberalism and Conservative traditionalism crossed paths long ago. Meaning, it’s no longer really a sharp definition. There are different shades; it’s more of a sociological definition. So I’m saying, leave the labels aside. In principle, someone who accepts upon himself the obligation from Sinai, but has an interpretive disagreement with me, or with Jewish law, or with the Sages—that’s fine. Meaning, his prayer is a prayer, everything is fine. Not that everything is fine—but as far as this matter goes, he is considered a Jew whose commandments are commandments. You may not cause him to stumble, obviously; he’s inside the game. So he has a disagreement.

Karaite Jews? I said: that gets closer to the Christian question, because they do not accept the Oral Torah at all. That too is part of the Torah given at Sinai. So here it’s a question—but because it’s not an interpretive dispute, it’s a dispute over whether the Oral Torah was given at Sinai at all. If I say no, it was given, and I just expound that verbal analogy differently from Rabbi Akiva—then from a halakhic standpoint it may be forbidden, because we accepted the authority of the Talmud upon ourselves, so it may be that he is doing something forbidden. But in the sense of commitment to Torah and commandments, the commandments he performs are commandments because the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded them and he is obligated; meaning, he’s inside the game.

On the other hand, there can be a person who performs all the commandments, say, like an Orthodox Jew—not like a Conservative one, we discussed this, right?—and he is not inside the game. Because he does it in order to preserve the national or cultural character; he does not do it as a response to a command. That’s why I say motivation matters. Motivation works in both directions here. It can bring into the category a person who in practice doesn’t do what is usually done, and it can place outside the category someone who may do everything.

Let me give you another example, if we’re talking about these things. There are people who are sometimes called “anusim”—coerced people—Haredi coerced people. There are articles dealing with this phenomenon. I once wrote an article on the “Stop Here and Think” forum. I took part there once in various discussions. It was opened or founded by Haredim, but the worldviews that surfaced there were really wild, and I met some of them, and you wouldn’t believe what is hidden under the garters there. And afterward I wrote some article about it, and they see themselves as coerced people. They’re coerced because society does not let them serve God as they believe. They are believers, but they are forced to follow Haredi norms: to dress like a Haredi, marry like a Haredi, sit in a kollel like a Haredi, not go to the army and not go to university like a Haredi—while they identify with none of this. They would completely want to do all of that differently, but they are coerced. They are coerced in the same sense as in the Inquisition; they claim this is really a phenomenon of forced converts—that’s how they see themselves.

Many times my feeling is that their fear is exaggerated. Meaning, someone born into Haredi society is simply very used to being Haredi, to being afraid. Sometimes he creates demons—that’s my feeling, again, I wasn’t there so I don’t know—but he creates demons that don’t really exist and is afraid of demons that are too big. So yes, there is coercion there, of course, but I think the fear is exaggerated. They are afraid to do anything. Of course they want to make revolutions, but all without names, with nicknames and anonymous statements—and that never works. There’s no such thing. You have to go out into the street, you have to come out of the closet if you want to change something; it doesn’t work otherwise.

But there is another phenomenon, which I also encountered there and afterward elsewhere: coerced people who don’t believe in anything. Not coerced people who serve God differently from what they think, but people who don’t believe in anything. But what can they do? They grew up there, were born there, their whole family is there, they’re married with children, so then they’re really stuck. So they believe in nothing and keep going to synagogue and to kollel and everything as usual. One of them was a yeshiva lecturer whom I met. An atheist. Believes in nothing. And he’s talking to me. Here I meet dozens and hundreds like that, and he believes in nothing. Yes, nothing at all.

So what then? Such a person too is exactly like Ahad Ha’am. Meaning, in that sense he also should not, in principle, be counted for a prayer quorum. Now how would you know that he’s like that? You can’t know. But I’m saying: there are phenomena in all kinds of shades and forms in which a person can do every little clause of the Mishnah Berurah—I don’t think he does when he’s by himself, but I mean at least publicly, what you see is that he does every clause of the Mishnah Berurah regularly and consistently—but he cannot be counted for a prayer quorum. Meaning, he believes in nothing. The point is: motivation here is part of the judgment. Practice alone is not enough.

So how does that fit with doing things “not for their own sake”…? So I said: “not for their own sake” is when you do not perform the commandments for the sake of Heaven. But commandments require belief. Commandments may not require intention—that’s a dispute. Doing them for their own sake certainly is not indispensable; from doing them not for their own sake one comes to doing them for their own sake. But commandments require belief. If you do not believe in the Holy One, blessed be He, that is not called a commandment done not for its own sake—that is not a commandment at all. That is, I believe in the Holy One, blessed be He; I don’t always have exactly the proper intention and so on—it may be that I’m doing it not for its own sake. But belief in a “not for its own sake” mode is something that leads to “for its own sake.” Is that what you mean—someone who just doesn’t do it with proper intention? Of course, of course. Meaning, that was the only concept in the time of the Sages. There wasn’t something else, I think. Also among the medieval authorities (Rishonim).

So we need to get out of our modern mindset, because we know a completely different phenomenon. We know the phenomenon of people who truly do not believe this—not because of temptation, not because of anything—they do not believe in this whole business; they think it’s nonsense. Now another point I didn’t sharpen: this is not a function of knowledge. I think after the class I spoke to someone about this. It’s not a function of knowledge at all. Someone can be an enormous Torah scholar—like that Jew I mentioned earlier, a huge Torah scholar—he knows everything, knows more than all of us. Talmud, medieval authorities (Rishonim), later authorities (Acharonim), halakhic decisors, Mishnah Berurah—he knows it all, and he is a captured infant.

He is a captured infant—not to mention formerly religious people. People often say: wait, a formerly religious person is a captured infant? He got a religious education! That’s nonsense; it has no… So what if he got a religious education? If right now—it depends on the case, I’m not saying all of them—but if right now he has reached the conclusion that it is not true, that he truly thinks it is not true, then what difference does it make that he got a religious education? He is completely a captured infant. A captured infant among Jews, not among gentiles. Fine—but the reasons that the Sages once gave for this status of total coercion—yes, that kind of coercion where you don’t examine each of his acts, but rather this is a person whose whole life is basically one big coercion—that’s what they called a captured infant. Now among the Sages there was no such thing except for someone who was literally taken captive, meaning someone who did not grow up among Jews. But for us there are such cases even among people who grow up among religious Jews, not only non-religious Jews. They too may leave and then believe in nothing. What do you want from him? That’s his conclusion.

But he’s not like a captured infant. A captured infant is someone truly educated in a place where he couldn’t come to belief, whereas here he grew up in a place where he could have come to… Fine—but he didn’t accept it. He reached the conclusion that it’s not true. What do you want from him? That’s complete coercion. I brought the Radbaz in a responsum. So what is the distinction between becoming non-religious and a captured infant—meaning someone who was never educated at all—and the concept of an apikorus, a heretic? No, no difference at all. No difference. An apikorus is someone acting from temptation. An apikorus is someone acting from temptation. Like what I said—Rav Ashi, where Menashe says to him there that if you had lived then, you would have run to worship idols, hitching up the hem of your cloak and running to worship idols. That is called an idol worshipper. What is an idol worshipper? Someone whose temptation he cannot withstand.

Now this is a phenomenon—I said this last time too—a phenomenon we do not know, and it is very hard for us to understand. Meaning, we do not have this urge to go worship wood and stone, so we project from our reality onto what was then, and we think that what we know today is what existed then. But that is not true. I mentioned, I think, that the Men of the Great Assembly abolished the urge for idol worship and the urge for forbidden sexual relations. Meaning, that’s the meaning of… It doesn’t necessarily mean that they sat as a court and literally abolished it; rather, it describes a historical situation, a historical process, in which we slowly lost that urge. But once it was an urge.

Today we know other urges. The urge to eat tasty non-kosher food—we understand that there is such an urge, right? Or adultery with another man’s wife—not with forbidden relatives; forbidden relatives were abolished by the Men of the Great Assembly. But another man’s wife remained, right? Now a person who does that often agrees that it is wrong to do it; it’s not that he thinks this is the correct thing. But he has an urge and cannot withstand it, and therefore he does it. So there we understand how a person can act in a way that he himself says is wrong. Okay?

Now with idol worship, we do not know this phenomenon, so it is hard for us to analyze it. We analyze it according to what we know. Think of idol worship like sexual prohibitions. If there is an urge for idol worship as there is an urge for forbidden sexual relations, then idol worshippers are like those who commit adultery today. Meaning, it’s the same thing. These are people who do something that they too understand is not right, but they have an urge. Why did they always persecute the prophets—Elijah the prophet and all the prophets who rebuked the people? Because it was clear to them that the prophets were right. How did those prophets manage to bring everyone back to repentance? Because the people constantly knew the prophet was right—they just had an urge they could not withstand. Otherwise, think about it: if today a prophet came and started rebuking everyone—“You don’t keep commandments”—they would send him to a psychiatrist. They wouldn’t persecute him, because it would be obvious to everyone that he was speaking nonsense—what does this babbler want from us? But back then they persecuted him because they understood he was right. Meaning, these were people who did think it was true.

So we stand here before a different phenomenon, one the Sages did not know. Therefore we must be careful not to judge it through our glasses today—and conversely, not to judge our present reality through Talmudic glasses. These are two different things, and I think this is an important point. I stopped you for a moment. I understood that within Maimonides, at least, an apikorus is someone who follows Greek philosophy or something. I don’t think so. If he does it because of temptation. The question is how Maimonides perceived the phenomenon—again, that’s a very subjective question, how Maimonides perceived this phenomenon. I think Maimonides perceived it as someone who basically understands that this is the truth, or could have understood that this is the truth, and doesn’t do it. I don’t know—the Greek culture attracts him. There are many ways to be attracted to Greek culture and philosophy, and he is drawn to it because of his temptation.

But now, how did the Sages view the Hellenizers? What—the Hellenizers were ideologues? They stopped believing and thought that Greek culture was the right culture? I don’t think that’s how the Sages saw it. The Sages saw them as people who surrendered to temptation. And if so, what difference does it make? If so, is this another kind of captured infant? Yes, it’s a captured infant, not a wicked person. No—why do you mind agreeing that an apikorus is someone who from conviction does not believe? No, because the question is how we relate to him. I don’t care if you call him an apikorus; the question is whether I apply to him “they are lowered down but not raised up” and things like that. Are you going to apply that to someone who is not wicked at all? Is that said specifically about an apikorus? Yes. But he’s not wicked at all—what do you want? You can’t do such things to him.

I’m saying: it’s not the names; I don’t care about the names. Call him an apikorus. It’s like the famous Rabbi Chaim—how is it in Yiddish? I don’t know Yiddish, but: “An apikorus by coercion is also an apikorus.” He too is an apikorus, yes; that doesn’t change. That’s true on the conceptual level. He too does not believe in the Holy One, blessed be He; it doesn’t matter whether it’s by coercion or willingly. Fine—but as far as the consequences are concerned, it makes a huge difference. That is the meaning of a captured infant. Therefore I think you cannot judge a person only by his actions; you have to take into account motivations too, intentions too, his direction, and not only what he actually does.

But according to this, people have no responsibility at all. They make decisions. I have an urge, so I have an urge—I’m coerced. No. Temptation is not coercion; on the contrary, temptation is the opposite of coercion. If you act because of temptation, then you are not coerced. You’re taking temptation to an extreme impulse, an irresistible urge, some kind of urge that… No. When I speak about temptation, I mean the opposite: although I think this is right, I do something else because I had an urge—like someone committing adultery with another man’s wife. That is precisely a reason to see him as wicked. Temptation is not an exempting factor; temptation is an obligating factor. But if he does not believe at all that it is something bad—meaning, he thinks that this is the correct way to act—then he is coerced. So that’s not temptation; that is what he thinks.

But it’s still hard for me to digest that a guy who grew up among Haredim—you suddenly call that a captured infant. It’s a little hard to digest. Well, what can I do? If you have a question I’ll answer, but if it’s hard to digest, maybe you need a gastroenterologist. If there’s no logic in it—why is there no logic in it? It’s coercion in every sense, for heaven’s sake. The person really thinks… I’m speaking on the assumption that he really is such a person. There are people who grew up there and leave because of temptation—they just can’t be bothered. I wasn’t talking about them. That’s why I said not every formerly religious person is like that.

There’s what people today call “religious sometimes.” You know that term? “Formerly religious” means religious in the past; “religious sometimes” means religious only sometimes. You don’t know it? It’s a known expression. “Religious sometimes” can be of two kinds. It can be someone who is sort of traditional—he does what he was used to; he doesn’t believe in it, but okay, he doesn’t want to disconnect from his social group. On the other hand, he’s not coerced like a Haredi person; he feels freer, he’s not in Haredi society, so he is religious sometimes, when it suits him. I know many like that. And it can be someone who believes completely but just doesn’t have the strength for the whole thing, so sometimes he leaves it and sometimes not. There is a huge gap between these two things, even though in practice they look very similar, and we are used to putting all these people into one basket—but they are not in one basket. There are different types.

I don’t know who is better and who is worse—that’s another question. But let’s say I think the one who is better is the one who truly does not believe, rather than the one who believes and does not observe. But on the other hand, whom would I count for a prayer quorum? Not because he’s better or worse, but whose prayer can count as prayer? Someone who believes in the Holy One, blessed be He—you can count him for a prayer quorum; he is praying. But someone who doesn’t believe in the Holy One, blessed be He—what does it help to count him for a prayer quorum? He’s a potted plant.

I think Hillel’s difficulty with this issue of the captured infant is that we are used to thinking of a captured infant as someone who is basically exempt from punishment. He doesn’t have to pay for it because he didn’t have the opportunity. Correct. Someone who did have the opportunity—you say, listen, he acted deliberately; he doesn’t fall under that. But why is someone who didn’t have the opportunity exempt? Let’s think for a second: why not? Because he really is coerced, he doesn’t… Right—and isn’t this one also coerced? He really thinks this way. Assuming there is someone who really thinks this way, what’s the difference? He too is truly coerced. Unless what you want to tell me is that nobody really thinks this way. That’s a different claim, you understand? You want to tell me that nobody who grew up in a religious home can leave and end up not believing. From my acquaintance with reality, I don’t assess it that way.

You mean there is choice there. He chose not to believe, you’re saying. What do you mean “chose”? True, he could have chosen otherwise, but this is really what he thinks. What do you want him to do—lie to himself? He really does not believe. I brought the responsum of the Radbaz several classes ago, where the Radbaz says that coercion in matters of belief is coercion in every respect. The Radbaz was asked about… yes, I mentioned it—about someone who said Moses our teacher is God. He was some kind of ultra-frum fellow. So—Moses our teacher is God. They asked the Radbaz what to do with such a person. A complete heretic, right? So what do we do with such a person? He said: leave him alone. That’s his opinion. What do you want from him? He is coerced; that is truly what he thinks. What do you mean, “a heretic is lowered down and not raised up,” to hand him over to the authorities to chop off his head? What? No, he says there, absolutely not. What do you want? It’s coercion.

But how can you say that about any person—about a person today, today… Therefore we go by presumptions, and that is exactly the point. “We stone and burn based on presumptions,” as the Talmud says in tractate Kiddushin. What does that mean? Of course, we cannot enter into a person’s innards, but there is an ability to assess. How do we assess a convert when he converts? We have to assess whether he is seriously accepting the commandments or not. How can you know what is in his heart? Well, what can we do—the judges have to assess. There are situations where we cannot do that—one moment—but the task is to do our best.

Okay. In the time of the Sages I assume there were also genuine heretics who truly didn’t believe. But the presumption was that an ordinary person understands that this is the correct thing to do, and if he doesn’t do it, it is only because of temptation. Today I think the presumption has reversed. Meaning, someone who doesn’t do it probably truly doesn’t believe. Few are those who don’t do it simply because they don’t feel like it—although sometimes they say that. They say: “Yes, I believe in everything, but it doesn’t suit me now.” I think I once told this story: there’s a one-man theater by some rabbi, Haggai Luber. I don’t remember what his theater is called, but he does solo performances. I once saw it—he was in Elkana once—and he did a performance about some formerly religious fellow driving for the first time on Friday night from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. And after the performance he held a discussion with the audience. The performance is a platform for discussion. He wanted to discuss this phenomenon with people.

And there he said: look, I was an instructor at Midreshet Ofra. Maybe he still was an instructor there then, but he was already saying something like eight years or so, so by then he was already an instructor. He said: you can’t imagine what a difference there was in those seven or eight years between the groups that came. Meaning, eight years earlier groups would come and there was electricity in the air. We’d sit around the campfire and either I would prove to them that there is a God, and then they would all go straight to yeshiva and become religious, or else… they would prove to me that there is no God, and then I’d have to leave everything and go to the beach with them on the Sabbath. Okay?

Not many years passed—seven, eight years, something like that, I don’t remember exactly. He says: we sit around the same campfire with kids the same age, and I tell them: look, there was a revelation at Sinai, there is a God. They say: yeah, could be. He says: and there really was a revelation at Sinai. Right, right, right. And at Sinai commandments were given. Of course—what else happened there? He says: and these commandments obligate all of us. Right. Then he pauses for a second: so what now? What’s missing? It doesn’t suit us now.

Meaning, this is a very big change our society has undergone. Meaning, society today is much less ideological, much less… Today you do more what your heart wants, what suits you, and not exactly what your philosophical or ideological principles have led you to. And therefore today too it is hard to judge people according to the sharp categories I’m presenting here. I am presenting sharp categories, but reality is often not so sharp. Still, I think it’s important to understand the principled theoretical typology, and then in practice, well, decisions have to be made in practice and we have to see how it works.

That person in the story about Rabbi Yannai, the first time he crossed the orchard and sinned, he at least came with the horse to the synagogue, to the study hall, and spoke. Right. Today, the first time he sins, he goes to the beach or something. On the contrary—I think today he would come back with the horse to the synagogue. Twenty years ago he would leave the synagogue and go to the beach. Today, no—he’ll come with the horse to the synagogue. That’s exactly this phenomenon. He has no problem. Meaning, today—yes, to keep doing it and it’s fine, it’s legitimate today. I don’t believe, but it suits me. Someone else does believe, but it doesn’t suit him. He doesn’t believe, but it does suit him. So what’s the problem? We do what suits us.

No, it’s a real phenomenon. I think many times—I know people who believe in nothing and fine, they come to synagogue because why not? It’s pleasant for them, it’s what they’re used to. They even pray from a prayer book from time to time, and fine. Today it’s much less ideological in the sense of: what do you believe, and therefore that determines what you do. Proofs today don’t play such a role. You can’t prove things to people; they’re not interested in the proofs. It’s not measured in terms of true and false. It’s measured in terms of what does it for me and what doesn’t do it for me.

So you’re lying to yourself. What? You’re lying to yourself. Fine, you can call it that. You know—you’re old-fashioned. So am I. We grew up together. For us it was the period I described before: if they prove it to us or don’t prove it to us—back then for us it was… We’re not that old, but today it’s no longer like that. Today the question is whether it does it for me or not. Sometimes you’re helpless, you know. Sometimes you’re helpless because you can prove whatever you want, and in the end they tell you: it just doesn’t suit me. And what do you do with that? Meaning, when things worked through the intellect, even if you were a heretic, at least you could try talking. Maybe you’d succeed and maybe not, but at least you knew what tools to use to attack the problem. But today you have to dance with him and hug him, and that’s how it works today. So you need to learn Hasidism with him and all kinds of things like that, and somehow—I don’t know—turn him around somehow. My feeling is that I’m repelled by these things, but I don’t know, that’s the generation. Sometimes I feel outdated, but that’s how it works today.

But according to what you’re saying, you too dance with him and learn Hasidism with him and so on. No—it may be that sometimes this actually brings him back to being a believer. The human psyche is very twisted; sometimes some experience can do for us what philosophical arguments cannot. I think that’s a real phenomenon. Right, but precisely according to your line, it could also be that he keeps it because it does it for him. Right—he didn’t really return, but that criterion, the criterion of what does it for him, is no longer the criterion you say should be examined. Agreed. Right—not what should be, but what does it for me. But according to your line, where you measure whether a person believes or doesn’t believe, then right now that very criterion is no longer relevant. No—it’s relevant, just rarer. You mean people… right. And if they do it like that, I don’t count them for a prayer quorum. No—I don’t know how to distinguish among people; I have no idea what goes on in their souls. But if he tells me: look, this does it for me but I don’t believe in anything—say he tells me this himself—then I don’t count him for a prayer quorum. He can be the eleventh if he wants. Yes. And you don’t study with him? Huh? And you don’t study with him? Of course I do. Study with every Jew—what do you mean? Why not? So what’s the practical difference? What is the strongest practical implication? I don’t have a leaflet. I don’t have a leaflet, by the way—what are you getting out of this right now? I told you: “do not place a stumbling block”—telling him to turn on the light on the Sabbath. No—that’s a different discussion. For practice, I’m getting to that in the next chapter. For practice, I’m getting to that now.

You wanted to ask? Yes. Like my friend Alan, I want to tell you something that isn’t exactly a question. Okay. But first, part of it is a question. First of all, if I’m not mistaken, the Sages say: “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except fear of Heaven.” It follows that what is not in the hands of Heaven is in the hands of man. But you say he is coerced because he doesn’t believe. So that too is not in man’s hands. In whose hands exactly is it? No, it is in… that is what is called in man’s hands. This is a mistaken conception of free choice. That’s what is called in man’s hands. He chooses—certainly he chooses—but “chooses” does not mean he does whatever he wants detached from what he thinks is right. He chooses whether yes or no, but in the end if he chose not… What does “coerced” mean if he chose? Not coerced—let’s return to the whole issue of free choice; it’s really this week’s Torah portion. But I think this is mistaken by 180 degrees. Let’s set that aside. Okay.

There’s something more serious. If I am coerced in that I don’t believe, and by that I’m exempt from all punishment—wonderful, bravo. What kind of justice system is that? “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do justice?” One person racks his brain, strives and strives and strives, and believes, and sometimes falls—he has a sea of transgressions. Another one just doesn’t believe, and suddenly everything’s fine. Yes, we spoke about this either last time or the time before. I asked whether this is really an advantage—the privilege of getting to convert, yes, the idea that a religious court converts a minor because one may act beneficially on behalf of a person. No, but it’s the same thing. So I’ll explain.

When we talk there in tractate Ketubot, at the end of the first chapter, that a religious court converts a minor convert because it is a benefit—then the question is whether it is a benefit or not. They discuss it there—after all, he is entering the yoke of commandments. Fine, they discuss it: until now he was a gentile, so what was wrong? “Among the dead, free.” So this is exactly the question that arises here too. The question is whether you prefer—“Happy are you, Israel, before whom are you purified and before whom are you destined to give judgment and accounting.” It’s a matter of attitude. If you observe commandments, you disrupt the whole thing. No, I’m speaking about someone who doesn’t observe commandments and receives neither reward nor punishment. He’ll be like a gentile. So the question is whether you prefer to be like that or like this. That’s the question.

You’re comparing a Jew who keeps commandments to one who has no belief. A Jew who doesn’t believe. I’m comparing two people who behave the same way, one believes and one doesn’t believe. Right—and I made exactly that comparison, didn’t I? I don’t understand. That is precisely the comparison I made. Someone who doesn’t believe is like a gentile. He is a gentile in every respect; it doesn’t matter what he does. He can have fringes on his garment and phylacteries on his head day and night—even at night when one need not wear them. It doesn’t matter; he is a gentile. A gentile not in the ethnic sense, and also not in the sense that I have no interpersonal obligations toward him—I do have obligations. That is exactly what I spoke about. I do, because he is not wicked; on the contrary. Socially he is not a gentile. One second—no, obviously.

My claim is a lenient one toward him, not a stringent one. Meaning, I am now turning him into someone who is not wicked. All the halakhic interpersonal obligations toward him remain. But his commandments are not commandments, and his transgressions are not transgressions. Two different things. You have to detach the gut reaction for a moment. The gut reacts against this, but this is simply discussing things as they are. There’s another question, whether a person receives reward, for example—and I don’t know whether this can be included here—if there is reward such as: I believe this is good and I help another person. That’s what Maimonides says: if it is because of rational conviction, then he is among the wise of the nations of the world but not among their pious. Yes, but regarding reward. So I say: he will have the reward of a good person, but not the reward of one who performs a commandment. Okay. Being a good person is also important. The Holy One, blessed be He, expects us to be good people too, but commandment—there is none here. I opened with that; it’s Maimonides in chapter 8 of the Laws of Kings.

Indeed, many times—for example, just as an aside, because I want to move already to the chapter of practice—people discuss how much secularization there is in different educational systems. Haredim often attack, say, non-Haredi educational systems: look how much secularization there is there. How much secularization is there in the Haredi systems? There is not a little—I don’t know, I haven’t checked, it’s very hard to check—but there is not a little. It’s just secularization under the garter. Meaning, the question is what you define as secularization. Does secularization mean stopping religious practice, or does secularization mean stopping being a believer? That’s something else.

Again, there may be people—I haven’t checked, I have no idea what the scope of the phenomenon is. By nature I meet all those who are there, but I don’t know their percentage in the population. So I can’t say. But the only thing I want to say is that you can’t measure this thing so simply. Meaning, if you look at it through those glasses, I’m not at all sure which system is more successful. Practically, meaning by a religious index—not in the sense of how useful it is or what education you get, but on a religious index—I don’t know which system is more successful. Is it the system that coerces people into being captured infants among religious Jews—not among gentiles, but among religious Jews—captured infants among the religious? That’s also how they relate to themselves: as a captured infant among the religious. A captured infant among the religious, who keeps commandments only because he is in religious or Haredi society. Or is it better to say to a person: listen, if you don’t believe, then to some degree—and this also varies by society—to some degree there is more legitimacy: okay, so behave as you believe. You don’t know what is better, what is more… I myself tend toward the second model, but it is certainly not simple to decide what here is better and what is worse.

No, obviously it’s the second, because at least there is no deception; you are not deceiving others. It could be—again, though right now I am not talking from the standpoint of what it does socially. As for what it does socially, I don’t know. But regarding the person himself, I ask: who is the more successful product of the educational system? A person who left, or a person who stayed and believes in nothing but does everything? He prays, he sends his child to religious school. Right—and that’s why I said, that’s what I told him: the social impact or broader significance of the matter is a different story. Here there is definitely room for the argument: listen, it’s worth preserving him even in some external form, because his child will start over; he’ll go to religious school and start over. Fine, that is certainly a consideration I hear.

But right now I am speaking about how I judge the person himself. Is this fruit a more successful fruit or not, in itself, as he stands before the Holy One, blessed be He—not what is the right way to build a society. That is another question, okay? Also not a simple one. But certainly here there are already additional considerations. So this is a consequence, let’s call it a non-halakhic consequence, of this way of looking at things—how you judge, what you are aiming at. Are you aiming for a person truly to believe, or are you aiming for him to perform practices? That is the question.

So I say: to truly believe does not mean to believe and not perform the practice; I already said that too is worthless. What I said is to perform the practice out of belief. Now if you educate toward that, the price is that someone who does not believe will also leave the practice, or someone who believes only partially. To do things from a motivation that really identifies with them, and not through some kind of coercive preaching, forcing the matter, forcing people to behave in that way.

Okay, in any event, that’s up to here. Let’s think a bit about Spinoza. According to your definition he was coerced. Basically he had intellectual honesty and didn’t accept it, and they excommunicated him. Yes, obviously, I do not agree with that at all. What do you mean? Obviously. So everyone who is intellectually coerced should now be excommunicated? Of course not. You’re saying the opposite. Certainly. But the rabbis then did excommunicate him. I don’t agree with them—a great mistake. And that is a mistake, a great mistake. But I’ll tell you: I don’t know. Certainly. I just don’t know whether had I been there I would have acted differently—and why? Because Spinoza… I once took part in a conference, “Spinoza: the First Secular Jew,” that was the name of the conference at Tel Aviv University. It was an amazing religious conference. The secular religion there was… a fascinating conference; maybe one day I’ll tell about it.

By the way, I asked this question about fifty years ago to my rabbi, and he said that the ban was not because of Jewish law, but because of the danger to the Jewish community. Okay. In any event, I’m saying: obviously people saw him—and to this day those who don’t really understand changes in reality still draw on the Talmudic outlook and apply it today. Now in Spinoza’s time there was not yet such a thing as a secular Jew. There were Jews, of course; there were heretics all along. But as a strong, simple phenomenon of a person who really doesn’t believe—what do you want from him? Why don’t they place all secular Jews today under ban? They are worse than Spinoza. They don’t even have the connection Spinoza had. Spinoza at least dealt with biblical criticism; he still had some relation to biblical sources. Why isn’t everyone under ban? That’s the question. People will tell you: practically, you can’t ban 70 percent of the public—or I don’t know, 60 percent of the public. But that’s not true. It’s not that you can’t ban them; you don’t need to ban them. Because today you understand a phenomenon that then was just budding, just beginning. At that time people did not understand the phenomenon. Spinoza was one of the creators of that phenomenon, or among its creators. So they did not yet have the tools to understand it.

Okay, they just released a recording of Rabbi Ovadia, what he said about Spinoza. Fine, good for him. In any event, that’s regarding the map of deniers. Up to now I gave a kind of map of beliefs and opinions, or of types of practice and how one relates to people. The second chapter is supposed to be the map of prohibitions, or acts, or forms of transgression. Here we need to talk about causing someone to stumble. But if I cause him to stumble—when I want to discuss whether causing him to stumble in a transgression is forbidden or not—then first I need to understand who the “him” is. Second, I need to understand what “causing someone to stumble” is.

Right. So there are several… up to now I dealt with who the “him” is; now I’m dealing with what causing someone to stumble is. I’m saying that causing someone to stumble has several branches. There is the obligation of “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood,” to save a person from a transgression; “you shall surely rebuke your fellow,” or “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood,” to save a person from a transgression. That’s not causing him to stumble—that’s the most extreme point on the opposite side. Meaning, I bear no blame at all for what he does, but I have an obligation to make sure he does not commit a transgression. That is mutual responsibility perhaps, or “you shall surely rebuke,” it doesn’t matter what source it comes from; that is a story in itself. But the assumption is that it exists. So that is one question: is there mutual responsibility with respect to such a person—do I have to make sure he does the right thing?

The second question is causing someone to stumble. And here too there are two levels, though it is less important for our purposes: “two sides of the river” and “one side of the river.” “Two sides of the river” means a case where without me he could not have committed the transgression—for example, a Nazirite to whom I extend a cup of wine from the other side of the river; he cannot reach it without me. Or he is on the same side of the river, and I merely assist him, but he could do it anyway. So that is aiding versus “do not place a stumbling block,” but let’s call it generally causing someone to stumble: I help him commit a transgression. Okay? Then there is the third level: causing him to transgress directly, by one’s own hands—giving him a prohibition directly with one’s own hands. Meaning, telling him “do such-and-such,” or giving him pork to eat—well, giving him pork to eat is still “do not place a stumbling block.” But say I render him impure, if he is a priest. Okay? With my own hands I render him impure; I’m not merely causing him to stumble regarding impurity. Okay, so that is what is called direct imposition by one’s own hands. There are these three levels. At each such level, we can now discuss, with regard to the people on the map I described until now, whether there is a prohibition, whether there is an obligation, and so on.

So I’ll do it this way. What? Asking a gentile to do something on the Sabbath is like telling a person to commit a transgression, right? That too belongs here. Yes, certainly. Meaning, does my benefit not enter into the classification here? That is called causing someone to stumble. Now the question is whether causing someone to stumble is forbidden with respect to such a person. So that’s what I’m now going to discuss.

So I say: here several things need to be discussed. Regarding the obligation of “you shall surely rebuke” and “your fellow in the observance of your people” and all these definitions, where there are no interpersonal obligations toward someone who does not act as “your fellow in the observance of your people”—it seems to me that precisely my argument is, I don’t know whether to call it lenient or stringent, but there is an obligation. Because if we do not view someone who does not act as “your fellow in the observance of your people” as wicked but as coerced, no one would say that there is no obligation toward a captured infant to bring him back, to try to have him observe commandments and be obligated to the Torah, right? That certainly is not called someone who does not act as “your fellow in the observance of your people.” So if I understand—and I broaden the concept of captured infant also to formerly religious people, or whatever, everything we described earlier—same thing. So in that sense, I don’t know whether to call this stricter than the accepted approach, because the accepted approach says: he’s wicked; I owe him nothing. He desecrates the Sabbath, he’s not obligated in commandments, nothing matters. And I say: not true—depends, depends why. If he is a captured infant, if he truly believes this, then he is coerced.

Now “coerced,” as I said last time too, does not mean he is truly exempt. He is obligated, only he cannot fulfill his obligation and avoid violating it. Every Jew is obligated in commandments, but he cannot fulfill his obligation or violate it. So he has no possibility either of performing commandments or of committing transgressions. But since he is obligated, then certainly I have a mission or role to try to bring him to realize that obligation. But perhaps there is a difference between bringing someone back to repentance and a captured infant in the sense of someone who received no education. Someone who received no education—perhaps you have some chance of influencing him. Fine, but that is already practice. Here these are practical considerations: will you succeed or not. “You shall surely rebuke” isn’t relevant, right? No—not that it is irrelevant, but that the chances are lower. But I’m saying: no chance? He was perfectly fine already and didn’t accept it, and maybe you’re more successful than his parents. Maybe you are more successful than his parents. His parents failed, but maybe you know how to talk to him better. Hasn’t that happened? It certainly has. Don’t be so deterministic. True, you can say the odds are lower, but I’m not discussing practice. Practice is something else. Obviously if there’s no chance, then there’s no chance. But I’m talking about whether in principle I am obligated to do it. So I say: in principle I am obligated to do it here too.

To do what—to say “Sabbath, Sabbath”? No, that won’t help, so why? It’s really not that he’ll perform some commandment-act because you say it. That’s just bringing out the ark into the city square. For him, what would really be good is for him to understand the… Yes, of course. To say “Sabbath” is to bring out the ark into the city square—that is not the purpose of Sabbath desecration. Those who shout “Sabbath, Sabbath” there do not really think this will stop someone from desecrating the Sabbath. They think there is some duty of protest upon them before Heaven—that if something terrible happens religiously, we go out to the city square and protest. Fine, there are sources for that among the Sages; one can discuss it. But that is not rebuke. What I’m saying is: it is not rebuke. Not rebuke? Of course not. I didn’t say it was rebuke. We don’t do it in order to rebuke. We do it to show Heaven that we protest; we are not in favor of these actions. This is not aimed at achieving some practical purpose. Maybe it’s more for the Chabad person who puts phylacteries on someone and has him wear the… Yes, and in imagination, if it helps, I don’t know. It depends whom he caught. If he caught someone who isn’t obligated, it doesn’t help. But maybe it helps in the sense that it brings him to become obligated. If it has some influence, I don’t know. We said the human psyche is complicated, and that is exactly their way of fulfilling the obligation you spoke about. Fine, fine. I’m saying: if it really influences, then all right. But that act in itself is not a commandment unless the person is in fact obligated and just doesn’t do it because he can’t be bothered—then it’s a commandment too. So I’m saying exactly—that’s the map I described earlier, and every such question has to be discussed according to who the person is. And you don’t always know who that person is. So the question is also what to do in doubtful cases. You have a person and you don’t know whether he is type A, B, or C. Fine, then we’re already entering the laws of doubt, presumptions, and so on.

So regarding the obligation to bring them back to the firmness of the Torah, Maimonides writes about a captured infant that we have an obligation to bring them back to the firmness of the Torah. Meaning, clearly all interpersonal obligations and religious obligations exist with respect to such a person, because he is not wicked. Meaning, by taking him out of the Jewish collective, as it were, in the sense of the possibility of performing commandments or transgressions, I have brought him into the Jewish collective in the sense of the moral, social, and halakhic obligations toward him. Meaning, that is the other side of the same coin.

Now regarding speech—telling him to do a transgression—in my humble opinion that is like asking a gentile, from a halakhic standpoint. And asking a gentile is forbidden according to most opinions; rabbinically. There is the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol that says it is from the Torah, but that is a solitary view, not likely. The Beit Yosef brings it—“You shall not do any labor” on the Sabbath. “You” shall not do means even if it is done without me. So he learns it from the verse—it’s in the Mekhilta—but he understands that the Mekhilta is an actual derivation and that it is a Torah prohibition. But according to most opinions, asking a gentile is a rabbinic prohibition. And here too, in my humble opinion, it would be like asking a gentile. Meaning, it would be a rabbinic prohibition. Therefore it is forbidden to tell him to commit a transgression, and I also need to prevent him from doing it because—prevent him meaning persuade him—not because of the transgression itself, but because of the previous argument I made: that I have an obligation toward him to ensure that he fulfills his obligation.

But if I cause him to stumble in a transgression—here I say there is no prohibition. Do you understand? There’s a subtle difference here. Halakhically, asking a gentile is sometimes permitted. Right, right. Why not? Like asking a gentile. Asking a secular Jew—that is, an atheist—is like asking a gentile. Okay? That is if there is… yes? If you have a Jewish person who is fully obligated, fully religious, and another Jew who is not obligated, and you can desecrate the Sabbath in order to save a sick person through the Jew who is not obligated—do it with him. Meaning, all this halakhic discussion we… all that we’ve expanded on, say, in the army, where specifically… In the army—one second, I’m getting there. One second, I’m getting there. There is… it’s not the same case as the army. I’ll get to the army case in a second.

Now obviously, to desecrate the Sabbath in order to save someone—that’s not “overridden”; that’s permitted? Fine. That is my next sentence. My next sentence. After all, it says one should do it through prominent adults and not through women and not through minors and not through… True. In a place where you are not allowed to hesitate—and there is a dispute among the halakhic decisors how far this goes. The Maggid Mishneh is extreme; Rabbi Chaim of Brisk, as is well known, is very extreme in the laws of saving life, that one must never pause to think; do everything as usual. But most decisors do not go that far. So I say: in a place where there is room for judgment, yes, that is a consideration, just like with a gentile. In my view it’s like a gentile.

But why did you say that I still have an obligation toward him that he fulfill his obligation? In the same way, you’re saying that when he performs a commandment he is doing nothing. Do I only need to try to persuade him about belief, not about commandments? Of course! Of course! That’s what I was talking about! That’s why I said. You mean in the taxis? Yes. No. Commandments out of belief. The practice too. But to bring him to that—not to put phylacteries on him in the street. I said, not to put phylacteries on him in the street. Meaning, that is not relevant. Not relevant.

The practice—again, a doctor or the army or something where I can swap with… Wait, no. Swapping is a different issue; that’s what he asked before. Swapping is a different issue, I’m getting to it. I’m speaking right now: I am the commander. I’m not swapping. I now have a Jew and a gentile. On whom do I impose the mission? Here there is room to say: on the gentile. The question is if I myself received a mission, whether to ask the gentile to replace me—that in a second. Okay? So that is the second matter: asking a gentile.

The third matter is direct imposition by one’s own hands. This sugya is not so well known, but I think it’s important to know it. There is a Talmudic passage in tractate Yevamot 114. The Talmud there learns from the verse “Do not eat them” as “Do not feed them,” that it is forbidden to feed a minor a prohibited thing with one’s own hands. Now we are supposed… On the one hand, the Talmud says there that if a minor eats carrion, the religious court is not commanded to separate him from it. Meaning, if that minor eats carrion and I can stop him, I am not obligated to stop him. He can do the transgression; he is not subject to commandment-observance. The question is whether this applies to a Jewish non-believer as well: may I likewise leave him alone to do commandments—or rather transgressions? I think yes, but perhaps for a different reason. Maybe it is even the same reason I gave; I don’t know. It depends what the reason is there too, and there are disputes among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) about that as well. But for the reason that basically, even if I stop him, it changes nothing. If I persuade him—then yes. Meaning, that I do need to do: persuade him not to commit the transgression because it is a transgression. But to stop him physically from the transgression, say I can—there is no point, because in any event he is not committing a transgression.

And that is regarding a minor eating forbidden things. What is direct imposition by one’s own hands? The Talmud there says: if a minor eats forbidden things, the religious court is not commanded to stop him—that is the law. But if you feed him the prohibition with your own hands, then it is forbidden. According to most medieval authorities (Rishonim), this is a Torah prohibition. Meaning, if I take a two-year-old child and give him an olive’s bulk of pork, I have violated a Torah prohibition. Which prohibition? In a second, I’m getting there. But I have violated a Torah prohibition. Why? Because this is not merely causing him to stumble. Causing the minor to stumble means the minor asks and I give it to him, or something like that. That is causing someone to stumble, like a cup of wine to a Nazirite. But if I give it to him, or render him impure, let’s take something more extreme—I render him impure, and he is a priest, and I render him impure—then I have violated a Torah prohibition. Okay? Even though the minor is not obligated in commandments at all. Why? Apparently because this prohibition is my prohibition, not his.

And indeed in Maimonides, in three places, there is a Maimonides that seemed to his commentators like a wondrous midrash. Maimonides writes at the end of the Laws of Diverse Kinds, for example: one who dresses another in a garment of mixed wool and linen. If the wearer is intentional, the wearer is flogged. If the wearer is unintentional and the dresser is intentional, the dresser is flogged. Now what does “flogged” mean? If this were just “do not place a stumbling block,” there is no flogging for “do not place a stumbling block.” “Flogged” means that the dresser violated the prohibition of mixed wool and linen. But the garment is not on him! He dressed someone else in it. If he is unintentional and I am intentional, then I am considered as though I wore the garment of mixed wool and linen. The same if I render a priest impure. Notice, the prohibition of priestly impurity—the Talmud says it is a prohibition not equally applicable to all. Incidentally, this comes up in a required conjunction: there are three sources for “Do not eat them” as “Do not feed them”; one of them is not to render a minor priest impure. Why do you need three sources? One of them is because the prohibition of priestly impurity is not equally applicable to all. It is considered lighter because only priests are prohibited from impurity. According to Maimonides, that isn’t true. There is a case where an Israelite can violate the prohibition of priestly impurity. How? If he renders a priest impure, and the priest is unintentional and he is intentional.

And also “You shall not round off”—“You shall not round off the corners of your heads”—Maimonides also… right, there are three such rulings in Maimonides. No, sorry—“You shall not round off,” there are others there because there they really derive from the Torah that there is a prohibition to perform the rounding. It’s a prohibition of making the rounding. Maimonides’ third case is the Nazirite. One who renders a Nazirite impure—and there Maimonides says this does not apply. But he brings a verse for why it does not apply, so basically it would have been expected to apply.

So this is the prohibition of feeding by one’s own hands. And it seems to me that at least according to Maimonides, feeding by one’s own hands to a minor is explicit in the Talmud. Feeding by one’s own hands to an adult who is unintentional is a novelty of Maimonides. And the Rosh disagrees with him, and they do not understand where his source is, but it is a novelty of Maimonides. And it seems to me that Maimonides is basically saying: it is like directly imposing a prohibition by one’s own hands on a minor. What difference is there? If the adult is unintentional—well, if when dealing directly with a minor by one’s own hands you violate the prohibition, then an unintentional adult is like a minor. So basically, if you are intentional, you yourself have violated the prohibition.

Now if indeed there is a prohibition—and maybe one more remark regarding the laws of the Sabbath—there is a law of “your son’s resting.” “Your son’s resting” means that I have an obligation that my son rest. If he does a prohibition, then I myself have violated a prohibition, even though he is a minor. Okay? But that is specific to the Sabbath, “your son’s resting,” and even that is only according to Rashba. I once wrote an article about this called “Uprooted Verses.” Uprooted, meaning verses from which nothing is derived. There is a verse: “So that your son and your daughter and your maidservant and all that is yours may rest.” The resting of one’s animal is explicit in the Talmud. What about the resting of one’s son? Nothing. There is no hint of it in the words of the Sages. Nothing is learned from it. There is no prohibition of your son’s resting. Your son can do whatever he wants; only your animal may not. Your animal’s resting is forbidden by Torah law. Your son’s resting—no problem.

So Rashba says—Rashba is the first, at the beginning of the chapter “One Who Was Overtaken by Darkness”—Rashba writes that your son’s resting is also forbidden by Torah law. It is written in the verse. There is no Talmudic discussion of it, nothing, but that is Rashba. What? Maybe it was obvious to the Sages? Maybe. Many things are obvious and still discussed in the Talmud. Fine, but the fact that it wasn’t discussed is no proof. Maybe the novelty is the animal, and if you say it about an animal then all the more so about… Could be. But practically that’s what Rashba writes, although there are contradictions even within Rashba himself, and the other medieval authorities (Rishonim) clearly thought there is no prohibition. Not only did they fail to think there was one. Because there is a place where it seems from the Talmud that it discusses this in tractate Shabbat 121: a minor who comes to extinguish. A minor and a gentile who come to extinguish—we do not tell the gentile “extinguish” or “don’t extinguish,” and to the minor we say “don’t extinguish” because his resting is upon you.

So the Talmud there asks what it means, “because his resting is upon you,” since if a minor eats forbidden things, the religious court is not commanded to separate him from them. So the Talmud gives some expression—I don’t remember the exact wording—it’s vague. Then all the medieval authorities discuss there: what do you mean? There is a prohibition of direct imposition by one’s own hands on a minor, so why doesn’t the Talmud mention that? They work around it and give answers and so on. And Rashba says: what do you mean? There is your son’s resting; it’s an explicit verse. Your son’s resting regarding the Sabbath specifically—not related to the prohibition of direct imposition by one’s own hands. Specifically regarding the Sabbath there is a law of your son’s resting. Fine. But the medieval authorities don’t have that. But the direct imposition by one’s own hands exists in all prohibitions.

So when I directly impose a prohibition on someone by my own hands—I give him the prohibition, not just hand it to him, because then it would only be “do not place a stumbling block,” but I perform the prohibition on him. I dress him in mixed wool and linen, I render him impure, yes? I do the prohibition through him. Or I feed a baby, someone who does not look after himself. In that situation I violate a Torah prohibition. Therefore here there is room to discuss: if I am in a situation where I am directly imposing a transgression by my own hands on such a Jew—not causing him to stumble. “Do not place a stumbling block,” I said—if he is not committing a transgression, then I have not violated “do not place a stumbling block.” But causing someone to stumble is not the problem on the interpersonal side, because “do not place a stumbling block,” according to the accepted understanding—and I think this is also the logic of the verse—is an interpersonal commandment. You need to take care not to cause him to stumble in transgressions, for his good. Now if in any case he is not stumbling into a transgression, then what is the problem? You didn’t do him any harm. Therefore there is no issue of “do not place a stumbling block.”

But direct imposition by one’s own hands is not an interpersonal commandment; it is a commandment between man and God. Because direct imposition by one’s own hands means that you committed the transgression. So the transgression is yours before the Holy One, blessed be He. It is not because you caused him to stumble; he did nothing. So here I say: even someone who is an atheist—meaning, even someone for whom what he does is neither a commandment nor a transgression—still, as long as he is obligated in commandments, there is room, and this depends on how one interprets Maimonides, at least there is room to view it as though if I commit a transgression through him by my own hands, then I myself have committed a transgression, and that is forbidden.

If I invite someone to my house for the Sabbath, is that considered as if I told him to desecrate the Sabbath? Of course not. But saying to him to desecrate the Sabbath is at most causing someone to stumble; it is not direct imposition by one’s own hands. You are not doing it on him directly. But if you told him to turn on the light, then what? Like asking a gentile. Yes, fine—so those are the practical questions. Is that considered asking a gentile? That’s chapter three. I told you, I divide the discussion into three chapters. Chapter one was the map of deniers. Chapter two was the map of situations: direct imposition, causing someone to stumble, Torah-level, rabbinic-level, “do not place a stumbling block,” “you shall surely rebuke,” speech, all that we just discussed. Okay? Now we need to take those two categories and go down to practice. Now we need to see what we do in practice with regard to these situations.

So asking—about that I already hinted. Regarding direct imposition, even if with a minor I understand, but if he is of sound mind? But he is unintentional. I know he is unintentional, but is there proof from the Talmud that this also… No, that is exactly what they wonder about in Maimonides, and that’s Maimonides. The medieval authorities ask Maimonides where he got this from; they don’t understand it, there is no clear source. The Vilna Gaon brought some source from the Tosefta, but he says it applies in every case. According to Maimonides it applies to every transgression, yes, every transgression. He brings it in three places, so presumably it is a general principle. I assume he learned it from direct imposition by one’s own hands on minors, and there it applies to every transgression. He says that even an adult who is unintentional is no better than a minor. So I think that is probably his reasoning.

And if so, now this is another clause. Now in all the situations we are talking about—asking a gentile to turn on a light, inviting him for the Sabbath so that he will drive on the Sabbath, not just for the Sabbath, or giving him food when he doesn’t recite a blessing, swapping shifts in the army with a secular soldier, or even with a gentile—that too is a question, but we are currently discussing a secular soldier—and so on. What is the law in all these cases? Here we need to apply the two previous chapters and see what we do with respect to these situations.

My benefit has nothing to do with it? Why? What does your benefit have to do with it? You just gave four examples: the first two are not about your benefit, the last two are. So what? Is it permitted to commit a transgression for your own benefit? Swapping a shift with him is for my benefit. But who said it is permitted to commit a transgression for your own benefit? That’s what I’m asking. I think that makes it more stringent. More stringent—maybe it’s forbidden if it is for my benefit, and maybe if not… You’re saying that if it’s for my benefit it should be more forbidden? Why? What is there in benefit more than in lack of benefit? What difference does it make? That’s what you learned from the issue of swapping shifts. Maybe my shift is permitted in any case, and therefore there is no reason… Fine. We’ll get into those considerations when we get into practice. That’s the next chapter. I see I’m not going to manage to get to it now. Next time we’ll talk about that.