Rabbi Yisrael Salanter: Law and Justice, Lesson 2
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
🔗 Link to the original lecture
🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI
Table of Contents
- Pilpul as a medium and modern homiletics
- The status of rabbinic homilies, errors, and disputes about facts
- The dispute between Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam, responsa from Heaven, and Maggid Meisharim
- Rabbi Israel Salanter’s ideology: intellectual challenge and the article on law and judgment
- Evaluating actions: act versus actor, and “everything is according to the God of knowledge”
- The reversal between fulfillment and negation: positive commandment and prohibition, and being held accountable for what is easier
- Reconciling the wording of the verses: “you shall do” and “you shall keep,” and the order of judgment and statute
- Character refinement: anger, human reason, and law as a practical engine
- State law as a parable: obedience, a traffic light, and love for the rulers of the state
- Torah as study: statute and judgment, the stubborn and rebellious son, and the blessing over Torah
- “They did not bless over Torah first” and “expound and receive reward” as closing the circle
Summary
General Overview
The text presents a lecture that summarizes and continues an article by Rabbi Israel Salanter on the relationship between statute and judgment, arguing that pilpul and the grounding of ideas in midrashim and verses are a rhetorical means of conveying correct distinctions and not necessarily a binding interpretation of the sources. It opens with a critique of homiletics that inserts ideas into verses and midrashim in order to create authority and persuasion, and it wrestles with how far the rabbinic homilies themselves are interpretation or rather a literary-ideational tool. From there it moves to the core of the article: evaluating an act from the standpoint of the action and from the standpoint of the actor, the reversal between the importance of fulfillment and the importance of non-violation, and an explanation of the changes in the verses about statute and judgment. Later it develops a view in which law as command strengthens a person’s ability actually to reach the judgments, especially in character work, and finally it interprets the matter of “expound and receive reward” as a principle teaching that Torah study is also an independent legal commandment and not merely a means to action. From here it also explains the statement that the destruction came because “they did not bless over Torah first.”
Pilpul as a medium and modern homiletics
The speaker draws a distinction between pilpul as an essence and pilpul as a medium, and argues that Rabbi Israel Salanter’s writing uses pilpul as a medium to convey a correct claim even if the interpretive route to the verse or midrash is not compelling. He describes “ordinary pilpul” as a correct-looking method that leads to incorrect results, whereas with Rabbi Israel the conclusion is correct and the argument is only about the route. He suggests that preachers sometimes force midrashim and verses into unconvincing interpretations in order to appear as “Torah” and as the word of God, because grounding something in sources is perceived as more authentic and persuasive than stating an idea directly. He says he has a similar feeling regarding Maharal and Hasidic quips, and illustrates this with a saying in the name of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda on “How beautiful is this tree,” as a reading that is not the plain meaning of the Mishnah but formulates a worldview.
The status of rabbinic homilies, errors, and disputes about facts
The text wrestles with whether one may relate to aggadic passages and homilies as interpretive techniques not aimed at the plain meaning, and if so asks whether studying them becomes “a waste of time.” It places the discussion in the broader context of whether sages can make mistakes, arguing that they presumably always could have erred, and therefore there is no reason to assume that “non-literal” homilies began only in later generations. It raises the difficulty of factual disputes, such as details about chambers in Tractate Yoma or the dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel about how to light Hanukkah candles, and asks how details were forgotten over not such a long period of time, proposing simply that people forget and that this is how disputes arise. It says that factual dispute is troubling because one side must necessarily be wrong, so it is hard to say “these and those are both the words of the living God,” but from his perspective, “so fine, one side was wrong—what happened?” He adds that the deeper concern is damage to the reliability of tradition.
The dispute between Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam, responsa from Heaven, and Maggid Meisharim
The text gives the example that Rabbeinu Tam, Rashi’s grandson, disagreed with his grandfather, and sees in this a lesson about willingness to disagree with earlier generations. It mentions the responsa from Heaven of Rabbi Yaakov of Marvege and his question about who is right in the dispute over tefillin, and the answer, “As there is dispute below, so there is dispute above,” presenting this as Delphic-oracle-style ambiguity and as a problematic text. It adds to this the Maggid Meisharim of the author of the Shulchan Arukh, describing it as a bizarre book, and asks about the tension with “It is not in heaven” and the systematic problem of relying on heavenly sources for Jewish law.
Rabbi Israel Salanter’s ideology: intellectual challenge and the article on law and judgment
The text formulates an explicit ideology of Rabbi Israel Salanter according to which the public thirsts for intellectual challenges, and therefore ideas should be presented in a way that requires mental effort as an alternative to the Enlightenment and to outside influences. It presents all the quotations from midrashim and verses as a pilpulistic introduction that is “like a motto” and not the core of the article, and argues that the article itself begins with the distinction “according to the action and according to the actor.” It opens with the midrash about the stubborn and rebellious son—“there never was and never will be”—and asks what “expound and receive reward” means. It then brings the verses “You shall do My judgments and keep My statutes” as against “You shall keep My statutes and My judgments” in order to ground the discussion in shifts of wording, negation and obligation, and reversal of order.
Evaluating actions: act versus actor, and “everything is according to the God of knowledge”
The text presents a distinction between evaluating an act from the side of its “fruits” and results, and evaluating the person from the side of the effort and difficulty required of him. It argues that in both of these respects a person cannot fully calculate the value of actions, and from this it explains Maimonides on “everything is according to the God of knowledge” and the inability to know how commandments and transgressions are weighed in order to determine who is righteous, wicked, or intermediate. It notes that the discussion will continue toward the distinction between statute and judgment as “more important and less important” and toward the reversed relation between them.
The reversal between fulfillment and negation: positive commandment and prohibition, and being held accountable for what is easier
The text brings the idea of an inverse relation between the level of something in obligation and its level in negation, illustrating this through Nachmanides on the portion of Yitro regarding the Sabbath: positive commandments are connected to love, prohibitions to fear. It argues that from the side of fulfillment, doing a positive commandment is “greater” than refraining from a prohibition, but from the side of transgression a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment, so “the relationship reverses” between fulfillment and non-fulfillment. It cites a midrash about two servants sent to bring a seal of clay and a seal of gold, where the king is angrier at the one who did not bring the clay, because that was the easier and more basic requirement. From this it formulates a rule that things that are easy to do generate a greater claim against a person when he does not do them.
Reconciling the wording of the verses: “you shall do” and “you shall keep,” and the order of judgment and statute
The text explains that Rabbi Israel reconciles the difference between “you shall do” and “you shall keep” by saying that “keep” is the language of prohibition and negation, so one combines in a single line the obligation of the greater thing with the negation of the lesser thing, and vice versa, in order to create value equivalence. It says that the verse “You shall do My judgments and keep My statutes” goes “according to the order of the levels,” where judgment is considered easier than statute in terms of novelty, because doing something rational is less of a novelty than doing a statute. It then explains the opposite verse, in which statute precedes judgment, through the idea that the statutes are “rungs by which to climb to the ladders of the judgments,” meaning that command and lawfulness are the mechanism that actually leads to fulfillment of the judgments.
Character refinement: anger, human reason, and law as a practical engine
The text presents “matters of character” as judgments in the sense of reason, but argues that intellectual understanding alone does not repair character, because at the moment of an outburst “his heart is not with him and he then becomes another person,” and the person forgets sayings of the Sages such as “Whoever gets angry is ruled by all kinds of Gehenna.” It says that the remedy is digging into the roots of the heart and identifying the forces activated by a small arousal, and pouring out “the waters of his understanding” in order to slow them until one can “be a man who restrains his spirit.” It determines that the main foundation that arouses a person to labor on character refinement is law, because anger is “a severe transgression,” and concern for fulfilling the command “will sharpen a person’s mind” and generate systematic reflection that will repair character traits and lead to “the judgment-level of their true boundaries.”
State law as a parable: obedience, a traffic light, and love for the rulers of the state
The text uses keeping the laws of the state as an example showing that even when human reason understands the judgments, “the aspect of law” in the obligation to obey and the warning to fulfill “all that proceeds from the government in its exalted glory” adds force to banish desire and strengthen the vision of reason. It quotes language that leads one to “love the rulers of the state and give one’s life to fulfill its role,” and frames this as part of the rationale in which law creates discipline that enables reason to illuminate “the truth in its truest sense.”
Torah as study: statute and judgment, the stubborn and rebellious son, and the blessing over Torah
The text asks whether Torah study is a statute or a judgment, and argues that studying the Torah of statute is a “judgment” because reason requires study in order to know how to fulfill, supporting this with the words of Tosafot in the name of Rabbeinu Tam in Bava Kamma on “this one fulfilled what is written in that one” and the principle that “study leads to action.” It adds that even study of the Torah of judgment emerges into “the category of statute,” because study itself is a commandment even without practical result, and proves this from the principle that one studies the stubborn and rebellious son even though “there never was and never will be” such a case. It interprets the Mishnah “one who learns in order to do” as meaning that study must be accompanied by a legal consciousness of the self-standing value of study, provided that “the action will be born from it.”
“They did not bless over Torah first” and “expound and receive reward” as closing the circle
The text raises the difficulty of why the punishment of destruction is linked to the fact that “they did not bless over Torah first,” and brings in the name of Ran citing Rabbeinu Yonah that the problem was that Torah was not important in their eyes and they occupied themselves with it “not for its own sake.” It proposes an interpretation based on the distinction between study as judgment and study as statute: it compares study to the rule in Menachot that every commandment whose “performance is the completion of the commandment” requires a blessing, whereas a preparatory act for a commandment does not require a blessing. Therefore, if they saw study only as a means to action, they did not see it as “completion of a commandment” and did not bless over it. It concludes with a new explanation of “expound and receive reward” regarding the stubborn and rebellious son, according to which the passage was written to teach that there is reward for study in the aspect of statute alone—that is, for study as an independent commandment even when it does not lead to action—and in this way the circle closes with the opening question about the meaning of “expound and receive reward.”
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yesterday we started—we actually finished, more or less, half of Rabbi Israel Salanter’s article. I gave a kind of introduction; I’ll just remind you. I gave a bit of an introduction about his way, his general approach, about the relation between pilpul as an essence and pilpul as a medium. Right? Sometimes correct ideas are conveyed by way of the medium of pilpul. And I think that’s what characterizes Rabbi Israel Salanter’s writing. Sometimes it looks like some clever, intricate explanation of one midrash or another verse, so it’s not so important whether we were convinced that this really is the plain meaning of the midrash or the verse. Through that, Rabbi Israel is trying to present a claim or a distinction that is correct in itself. As opposed to—or it’s almost the opposite of—ordinary pilpul. Ordinary pilpul is usually reaching incorrect results by a correct method. Meaning, by a method that looks correct. In other words, you can’t put your finger on what exactly is wrong here. It looks terrific, everything is fine, every stage is built on the previous one, but somehow it’s obvious that no, that’s not what comes out of it; something here just isn’t logical. And my feeling in Rabbi Israel Salanter’s writings is exactly the opposite. Meaning, he arrives at the right result. About the route, you can argue a little—whether this really is the correct explanation of one midrash or another, or of one verse or another, I’m not sure. But the distinctions, I think, are definitely worth thinking about.
[Speaker B] What bothered him? Like any philosopher or thinker, why not just present an idea? Like Rabbi Soloveitchik, for example, right?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It wouldn’t have been accepted, right—or at least in his estimation it wouldn’t have been accepted. I’m not sure he was right, but that’s how he understood it. You know, what bothers modern-day preachers about just saying what they want to say without forcing all sorts of midrashim and interpreting them with ridiculous explanations in order to make the claim? A lot of times a preacher uses that kind of technique. He says something correct, he gives interpretations that don’t even begin to fit all kinds of midrashim, and we forgive him because the result is correct. The only question that comes up for me is: so why do you need to explain the midrashim? Just say what you have to say. I agree with that feeling, but somehow there are people who feel—and apparently at least once this was true, today it’s less true, depends where, depends on which public—but once it was true. Meaning, you had to introduce things by explaining that this is the intention of a verse or a midrash or whatever, because then somehow it was supposed to persuade the public more. Never mind that I really don’t quite understand why.
[Speaker C] The public? Because the public won’t critique him, and it’ll understand that it’s not really…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Could be, I don’t know. It somehow looks more like this is Torah, not just my own invention.
[Speaker C] Because people want to present it as though it’s the word of God, that it’s correct, that this is what the Holy One, blessed be He, means. Okay, study—by the way, there are sources, meaning…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, exactly, after all there are sources. I mean, the way a lecture is structured—forget the pilpulim—how is a lecture structured? You want to say something? Then say it. No, no, I’ll bring you this Maimonides, and that Sefer Ha-Ikkarim, and a midrash here, and a little… and wait, none of these things are connected to the context. If you have something to say, then say it. What difference does it make now whether the author of Sefer Ha-Ikkarim also said it, and Ramchal, and this one, and that one? There’s some feeling that when it’s rooted in sources it’s somehow more authentic, right? More the word of God, more Torah. Maybe there’s even something to that, I don’t know. No, it’s just the pleasure—there’s a feeling that if it’s rooted in sources then it’s more the word of God… No, and as a result now people try to root things in sources even in ways that are not always convincing that they’re really there. I don’t know, that’s always my feeling when I read Maharal. Meaning, I don’t always agree with the results, but usually I don’t agree with the route to them. There are all kinds of forced readings there, taking midrashim and putting interpretations into them where it’s clear the whole thing is rigged. Good thing I said that before Shmuel came in, otherwise he’d hang me. So in short, my feeling there is always that… I don’t know, I’m not convinced. If you want to say something logical, then say it. Leave it—don’t force it into all the Talmudic passages and midrashim and all that, which I don’t know, just doesn’t…
[Speaker B] It could be less so among the Hasidim.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Among Hasidim it’s very much like that.
[Speaker B] But they do it with humor.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, fine, humor is always good, but still—Hasidic quips. What’s the meaning of Hasidic quips, right? I mean all the time… I don’t know. I got to Yeruham; on the first day I arrived at Yeshivat Yeruham, in the bench in front of me sat two Jews, okay, students of mine, from the yeshiva’s first class. And I hear one of them telling the other some quip in the name of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda. He says to him: it says, it says… It was the journalist Elishiv Reichner, who’s known today, doesn’t matter. So he said to his study partner something in the name of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda, that he said like this: “Anyone who is walking on the road and reviewing his learning, and interrupts his learning and says, ‘How beautiful is this tree,’ is considered as though he bears guilt for his life.” So Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda says: anyone who walks on the road and thinks that saying “How beautiful is this tree” counts as interrupting his learning—he bears guilt for his life. Now obviously that is not an explanation of the midrash. If someone thinks it is, he needs hospitalization. Meaning, so what are you trying to do now by saying this quip? Maybe it’s true. No, there’s a worldview here that’s worth thinking about. It’s not absurd, it’s beautiful, there’s something interesting in it. Harmonious. Why are you stuffing it into Pirkei Avot? So just say what you want to say and that’s it. Say that in your opinion, when people are walking on the road they don’t have to be reciting Psalms all the time; they can also enjoy the scenery. Perfectly fine, excellent. You can even make that into service of God—“How manifold are Your works, O Lord”—not just enjoying the scenery. You can even be righteous. Okay. But it’s not the midrash, it’s not the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot. Why are you forcing it in there? Meaning, what does that help? So part of it is a sense of humor, part of it is—I don’t know what—because it sounds terribly convincing if it comes from Pirkei Avot. I don’t know exactly.
[Speaker B] Some of the midrashim are like what the tannaim and amoraim did. You’re defending Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda—that’s what they always did.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m very conflicted about that. Is that really how one can, how one should, relate to the midrashim of the Sages in the Talmud? Or to aggadic midrash in Midrash Rabbah or something like that? If that’s so, then really it’s a waste of time. Meaning, it’s just wasting Torah study to learn it. I don’t know—that’s how it seems to me. So if that’s the case—I don’t know whether that’s true or not, by the way. It really could be.
[Speaker B] But it’s not wasting Torah study.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Just because it’s written in the Talmud doesn’t mean—they weren’t preachers like today’s preachers.
[Speaker B] You’re arguing with the form of transmission. He says something correct, so there’s no problem; it gets taught.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why do I care what he does with the verse and what he does with these stories and those stories? Tell me what you want to say. I got it, fine, let’s move on. There’s no point starting to grind away at whether this is the interpretation and how he learned the verse and how the other one learned the verse, because you understand—we scrutinize that more than if we just said, okay, what’s your quip? What’s the bottom line?
[Speaker C] With aggadah people usually don’t speak that way.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously not. Usually people do try to understand aggadah seriously, and on the contrary, someone who doesn’t feels he has to apologize, as if, okay, we don’t understand enough, we don’t have the tools, whatever. I don’t know anyone, at least in the mainstream, who’ll say: no, this is Hasidic-style homiletics, leave it, let’s move on to the serious passages. Listen, I need to occupy myself with this homiletics. Now I don’t know—I can’t decide yes or no—but sometimes I have the feeling that actually it’s true. I don’t know what to say. It’s the same question as in a lot of contexts. You know, when people always tell me that the amoraim didn’t make mistakes and couldn’t make mistakes, because they had divine inspiration and all kinds of things like that. So I ask: and sages in our day apparently—I don’t know—they can make mistakes, and they even do every now and then. Right. And sages in the eighteenth century? I assume yes, because there’s no essential difference between the eighteenth century and today. Exactly. So when did the possibility begin that sages could make mistakes? I don’t know.
[Speaker C] So that’s the sorites paradox.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay. So I’m saying it’s not even the sorites paradox. I’m saying: why assume there’s any second side at all? Meaning, most likely they could always make mistakes. Okay. So I’m saying my assumption is that they were human beings like us, and all the bugs we have, they probably had too, and maybe even a few more. So now, just like the matter of error—when did non-genuine homiletics begin? Today there certainly is such a thing. In the sixteenth century there was too. In the twelfth century too.
[Speaker E] So…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So why say that in the fourth century there wasn’t? From when did people start making these kinds of homiletic readings that are just, for the reason I said earlier, to seem more authentic, but not really because you think that’s what the verse means? If people do it today and did it in earlier generations too, then maybe they did it in the Talmud as well. I don’t know.
[Speaker C] To say there were also some homilies like that—I don’t think…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And that it entered the Talmud?
[Speaker C] No, and that it entered the Talmud too—I don’t think so. A lot of commentators already said this explicitly.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Really? I’m not sure. Maimonides, Maimonides—no, Maimonides didn’t say that.
[Speaker C] What do you mean? That it’s like poetic expression, very beautiful.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, “like poetic expression, very beautiful,” but definitely not—not that one shouldn’t be precise there. Using parables, or wrapping things in literary form, that’s perfectly fine. That’s not what I’m talking about.
[Speaker C] Well, he says that when the tannaim—as I remember learning at the time as a quotation—when the tannaim said, say, “Do not read it this way, but rather that way,” or things like that, that’s poetic expression.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, fine, okay, with “do not read… but rather…” that could be. I’m talking about the more systematic aggadot, about clarification of a verse.
[Speaker C] The aggadot, all these pilpulim, one measure this, two measures that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no, at the moment I’m talking about aggadic midrash. Midrash of Jewish law I really hope isn’t like that. But you know, if there too it’s like that, then truly you can shut down the whole store.
[Speaker D] There are explanations too that appear—this way and that way and this way and that way—disputes, and in the end the Talmud says: okay, “to magnify Torah and glorify it.”
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, “to magnify Torah and glorify it” means there’s no practical implication. So I’m saying: to magnify Torah and glorify it…
[Speaker D] How is there already a dispute in Yoma about whether the chamber of this one was on the right and that one on the left and this over there—what, how long after the Temple was destroyed was that written? How much time passed already that there are disputes? So I don’t know, then I automatically answer myself in my heart why blah blah blah…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Blah blah. Why “to magnify Torah and glorify it”? But he didn’t really think that that’s how it was—a chamber here and a chamber there. He invented it so he could engage in pilpul?
[Speaker D] So how?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So I’m saying that apparently it was forgotten and they disputed it. What’s the problem?
[Speaker D] What was forgotten about something so minor in such a short time after the destruction of the Temple? What about the Mishnah?
[Speaker C] What about…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What about the increasing-and-going versus decreasing-and-going of Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel? How long after the Hasmoneans were Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel? What—they didn’t remember?
[Speaker C] That’s lack of memory, but there it’s an enactment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So that’s the solution I suggested. But usually most commentators don’t explain it that way. I even infer this from Maimonides. But most commentators say the authentic enactment was to increase or decrease the candles, and Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disputed what the enactment had been. What happened? And how long was it—two hundred years? Less? So what’s the story?
[Speaker C] They forgot what the enactment for the mehadrin was?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, meaning…
[Speaker C] That they also enacted an enactment of…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Eight days, but they also enacted the three levels.
[Speaker B] Again, two hundred years is a long time.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, and therefore I’m saying: what’s the problem? They forgot, and that’s the dispute. There are people who are very troubled by that kind of dispute because it’s a factual dispute. And a factual dispute means that certainly one is right and one is wrong. It can’t be that both are right when dealing with facts. When dealing with ideas maybe you can say, “These and those are both the words of the living God.” When dealing with facts, either that chamber was there or it was here. So one side is wrong. And that really troubles people—how can there be factual disputes? It means you can’t say of them, “These and those are both the words of the living God.” Fine, that doesn’t trouble me either. So okay, one side was wrong—what happened? And that’s not nothing, but it’s a different kind of problem around such a dispute. But not: how did they forget? They forgot. People forget in abundance. Sometimes that’s even a blessing.
[Speaker C] No, and it also seems to me that “they forgot” troubles people for a similar reason. Meaning, you damage the credibility of the Torah tradition when you say they forgot.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, fine.
[Speaker D] Rashbam and Rabbeinu Tam—he didn’t know what his grandfather said?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he knew; he disagreed with him.
[Speaker D] It’s a matter of continuity. If there’s no continuity…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] He knew; he disagreed with him. He knew perfectly well. What, is it forbidden to disagree? Rabbeinu Tam disagreed with his grandfather. He didn’t claim that his grandfather did the opposite. So it’s obvious—he disagreed with him, what? Anyway, that too is an important lesson for our purposes. People today tend not to disagree with earlier generations. Rabbeinu Tam was Rashi’s grandson, and all the same he disagreed with him—didn’t agree. Against the tradition, against what everyone did, against everything. Fine, but it didn’t seem right to him.
[Speaker C] No, but that’s not the usual case. Meaning, that says…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That there was another tradition transmitted to him. Yes, I’ve heard those stories.
[Speaker C] No, not in the context of Rabbeinu Tam specifically. I meant that it wasn’t the norm, and usually the medieval authorities (Rishonim) each tried to fight for his own tradition.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] When he had one. And when he didn’t, then he could also disagree.
[Speaker B] And they’ve already found tefillin like Rashi’s too.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, I know. No, I’m not saying Rabbeinu Tam was wrong. I’m only saying that Rabbeinu Tam did not continue his fathers’ tradition. He disagreed with his fathers. Yes, no—whether he was ultimately right may be, that’s a different question, who is right in that dispute, if anyone. You know there’s a responsa from Heaven on this. Rabbi Yaakov of Marvege—really from the Tosafists. It’s a responsa from Heaven in which he would ask dream-questions above about various problems and receive an answer. There’s a very long introduction by Rabbi Margaliot where he explains how this can be permitted, since after all “It is not in heaven,” and so on—“a prophet may no longer introduce anything new.” But he asked there who is right, Rashi or Rabbeinu Tam. So they told him: “As there is dispute below, so there is dispute above.” Of course that’s like the Oracle of Delphi. Meaning, with these questions you always end up getting nowhere. You see the ambiguity of the answers—they’re always answers that you can in fact interpret in several ways. It’s really the Oracle of Delphi. To my mind this is a very problematic text, this responsa.
[Speaker E] But do people use it for Jewish law, to issue a ruling in cases of doubt?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I haven’t checked how much it’s quoted. Let’s say it certainly isn’t central. I don’t know. I assume Rabbi Margaliot talks about that too—who cites it and who relies on it. It’s not some major halakhic decisor. But yes, it’s treated as legitimate. I don’t know how central, but legitimate. I don’t know—a problematic text. There are all kinds of things. What about the Maggid Meisharim of the author—the author of the Shulchan Arukh? A completely rational man, a man of Jewish law through all 248 limbs, with this bizarre book, Maggid Meisharim, that tells you stories there, bringing things from dreams, including Jewish law, including all kinds of strange and wondrous things.
[Speaker C] Why is it bizarre? Meaning, what’s bizarre about it?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s bizarre! What about “It is not in heaven”? What are you doing dealing with these things?
[Speaker C] What’s the…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The problem—no, wait—the problem with it is that it’s not…
[Speaker C] “It is not in heaven” means there’s a methodological problem.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine. In short, I don’t know how we got expanded into this. All I was trying to do was summarize the three sentences I said last time about Rabbi Israel Salanter’s approach to pilpul. Right? About the fact that pilpul is basically a medium through which he tries to convey his ideas, because his feeling is that the crowd is thirsty for intellectual challenges. So if you just tell them correct things, it doesn’t interest them. You have to present it in a way that requires some intellectual effort, as an alternative to the Enlightenment, as an alternative to the various winds blowing outside. He writes this—that’s his explicit ideology; no interpretation is needed here. So therefore this is only an introduction in order to understand that this article, which comes to clarify the relationship between statute and judgment, hangs itself on all sorts of midrashim and explains them—some better, some less well—but that’s basically what… that’s the genre. Now, he opens with this midrash about the stubborn and rebellious son, that there never was and never will be, and why was it written? “Expound and receive reward.” He asks: what does “expound and receive reward” mean? Take out those three verses; let’s just learn the rest of the Torah. We still haven’t finished all the rest, so what’s the idea here? Then after that with Aaron—“the iniquity of fathers upon children,” right—the question of who is preferable to whom, Aaron or Israel. Then he moves to two verses. It says, “You shall do My judgments and keep My statutes,” right, in the fourth section. “In this one can explain the verse,” right, “You shall do My judgments and keep My statutes,” in which one must pay attention to the change in this verse, warning about judgment from the standpoint of obligation and statute from the standpoint of negation. Right, “to keep” is negation, it’s a prohibition. So he says that the statute is phrased in the language of prohibition, while the judgment is from the standpoint of positive obligation. After that he brings an opposite verse in which the statute appears first and then the judgment. Where does it appear? Here, he brings it later.
[Speaker C] “You shall keep My statutes and My judgments”—first statute and then judgment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, where is that? In section… yes, in the second verse there, “You shall keep My statutes and My judgments,” first statute and then judgment, right, exactly. So he says that first of all there’s an assignment of negation to one and obligation to the other—it always comes in opposite situations—and the order also reverses in the two verses. So that’s really the beginning of the matter. And then he starts his discussion. Meaning, this whole introduction is a pilpulistic introduction; it’s simply irrelevant, it doesn’t matter at all. The article really begins with the next section: “Every matter is divided according to the action and according to the actor.” He’ll return to the question of statute and judgment, and that’s really what he wants to say. And how he resolves all the midrashim in which… it’s like mottos in books. Sometimes a book brings some motto, some nice saying or some interesting midrash, and maybe he’ll explain it inside the book, or maybe the goal isn’t to explain the midrash—it’s just some anecdote that gives flavor to the matter. He really comes to say what he writes in the chapter, not to explain the midrash. So he divides things according to the action and according to the actor. He says that according to… when we evaluate a person’s action, it’s also according to the fruits of the action—that’s the evaluation of the act in itself—and there’s the evaluation of the person doing the act, which is according to the degree of effort it required of him and the like. Therefore he says that in both these aspects we can’t fully understand how to evaluate a person’s action, both from the standpoint of the actor and from the standpoint of the action. And with this he explains Maimonides, that everything is according to the God of knowledge, right, that one cannot know the weighting of every act or transgression or commandment, and therefore with the intermediate person, the righteous person, and the wicked person, no one knows how to calculate this matter. And with that, more or less, I finished. We move to the next page. Then he explains—yes, maybe just… we actually finished on the second page, at the end of the second section, “Now judgment is the first level”—that’s really as far as we got. But just the ending: so he says that between statute and judgment there are things that are more important and less important—we’ll still see later exactly how that comes out. But he says there’s some inverse relation between important things and less important things. For example, I think I brought in this connection Nachmanides in the portion of Yitro on the Sabbath, where Nachmanides says there that positive commandments are love and prohibitions are fear. Didn’t I bring that? I think I did. That positive commandments are love and prohibitions are fear, and therefore fulfillment—from the standpoint of fulfilling the commandment—a positive commandment is greater than a prohibition. From the standpoint of someone who violates the command against God’s will, the prohibition is more severe than the positive commandment. Now this is not surprising; these are two sides of the same coin. Since the positive commandment tells you: be righteous, right? That’s a demand beyond the standard. Okay, so if you do it, you’re much more righteous than someone who simply didn’t commit a transgression. Not committing a transgression is the standard, it’s the minimum. If you do a commandment, then you’re really righteous. So from the side of fulfillment, the commandment is much more important than not committing a transgression. Okay, but from the side of neglect, the relation reverses. Meaning, when you commit a transgression you’re much more wicked than when you fail to fulfill a commandment, because failing to fulfill a commandment—fine, you’re not so righteous, but you’re intermediate. But if you commit a transgression, then you’re wicked. And this relation is very often—not very often, but usually—with every smaller and greater thing, there are always these two relations. When you do a small thing, it’s a small thing; it’s not as important as doing a big thing. But when you don’t do a small thing, the claim against you is much greater. Such a small thing and you didn’t do it? It’s something basic—why didn’t you do it? Therefore many times—not many times, but generally—the relation of fulfillment reverses when we come to non-fulfillment.
[Speaker C] Yes, meaning things that are small—that is, they’re less important.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All right, let’s talk about things that are easy to do—not that they’re less important. Things that are easy to do are less important if you did them, but the claim against you is greater if you didn’t do them. That’s what he says: a parable about a king who went to tell two of his servants. This is a midrash. Things that a person tramples with his heel—a parable about a king who sent two servants, one to bring a seal of clay and one to bring a seal of gold. They didn’t bring them. At whom is he angrier? At the one who didn’t bring the clay seal. Fine, a gold seal—you might not have found one. But a clay seal? You’re just lazy. You don’t care about what I asked of you. So the claim is much greater even though the original demand was smaller. All right, that’s basically his point here, like we talked about, because I spoke about a positive commandment overriding a prohibition, and afterward Nachmanides says that based on this he explains why a positive commandment overrides a prohibition. So he says: “And in general there are two levels in merits and sins, in obligation and negation; and that which comes on a higher level in terms of obligation, regarding reward, likewise its counterpart comes on a lower level in terms of negation, regarding punishment.” Exactly what I said before in the name of Nachmanides. “And that which comes on a lower level in terms of obligation, regarding reward, likewise its counterpart comes on a higher level regarding punishment in terms of negation. Therefore, doing justice in the mode of obligation and guarding the statute in the mode of negation come on one string and one line.” Here he explains the two verses he brought—why one says “you shall guard” and the other “you shall do.” “You shall guard” is a prohibition, right? “Take heed” is a prohibition. So he says: “My ordinances”—not transgressing the ordinance—is like positively fulfilling the statute; they come on one string. It’s the same thing. Why? Because if one is great and the other is small, then not doing the small one is like positively doing the great one. Both are things of high weight. And likewise, doing the small one and not doing the great one are also two things on one string; both are low. Okay, that’s basically his point.
“And behold, justice is one level, and the second level is statute. And this is what Scripture says”—Leviticus 18—“You shall do My ordinances and you shall guard My statutes,” in the order of the levels. So the first verse he brought—“You shall do My ordinances and guard My statutes.” Up to here he explained why here it says “guard” and there it says “do.” So he says: in order for this to be on one string—the great thing and the small thing—we speak about the negation of the small together with the obligation of the great, and vice versa. Okay. Now he explains the change in order in the verse. One verse puts ordinance before statute; the second puts statute before ordinance. So the first verse, which puts ordinance before statute—he says that’s according to the order of the levels. Because “ordinance” is smaller than “statute,” essentially. Why is ordinance smaller than statute? Because doing rational things is less of a novelty than doing things that are a statute. Okay? And therefore ordinance is less than statute, and that verse follows the order of the levels. Okay, of course according to his own logic you could flip the picture in the second verse and say that not doing the greater thing reverses it, and therefore that’s the second verse. He doesn’t say that, because again, this interpretation of the verses is hair-splitting. I mean, but never mind, I already talked about that.
“Indeed, each of these matters according to its form, value, and function is almost the opposite.” Here you understand that he is now starting to move toward explaining the second verse—the verse that puts statute before ordinance. All right? Up to now he explained only this verse. So he says: “Indeed, each of these matters according to its form, value, and function is almost the opposite. The statutes are the rungs by which one ascends the ladders of the ordinances.” Meaning, the statute is like steps on a ladder in order to climb to the ordinances. “And especially in the matter of character traits, these are ordinances.” Human character traits—traits of the soul—he says those are ordinances. Meaning, it is something rational that one needs to repair one’s traits. “And all of a person’s labor will not avail to correct them and straighten them properly unless he turns his mind toward human reason, to love uprightness and hate crookedness by his nature, even without the warning of the Torah, through much reflection on the ways of human reason. For a human being is a human being. Will it help a man prone to excessive anger, when some small provocation quickly inflames him, even if he repeats many times the saying of our Sages in Nedarim: ‘Whoever gets angry—all kinds of Gehinnom rule over him,’ until that saying shines before him constantly? Even so, when the spirit of anger rises in him, his heart is no longer with him and he becomes a different person. Very quickly all the fine images he acquired through toil fly away from him. And he has no cure.”
So you can understand very well why it’s forbidden to be hot-tempered, because when you get angry you do foolish things, so it’s very rational not to be hot-tempered. But that rationality won’t help at all. Meaning, you can study the saying of the Sages—“Whoever gets angry is as though he worships idols”—a hundred thousand times, and place it upon the tablet of your heart so it stands before your eyes; the moment you actually get angry, you forget the sayings of the Sages. Therefore the advised remedy, he says—“And he has no cure unless he turns the eye of his understanding to dig into the depths of the roots of his heart: what are the general powers within him that are liable to be seized by a slight external provocation, and to pour the waters of his understanding over them to extinguish them somewhat, so that they will not run with such tremendous haste, until he acquires the power to be a person who restrains his spirit.” And in principle he says: you have to work on your character traits, just to be less hot-tempered. It won’t help to understand that it’s terribly rational not to get angry. Reason is frozen—that’s the nature of anger: when you’re angry, you don’t work with reason. So what does it help that with your reason you understand that it’s not worthwhile to get angry? The very nature of anger freezes reason.
[Speaker D] No, but he needs the model.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean?
[Speaker D] The hot-tempered person has to dig into why, for him, he shouldn’t be hot-tempered.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Obviously. And will that help him in practice? Will it really prevent his anger?
[Speaker D] If he has no model?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if he has a model, is that enough? Obviously you need a model. It helps. But that’s what he says: the model is certainly a model; the model is the ordinances. It’s very rational not to be hot-tempered. “Whoever gets angry is as though he worships idols”; you can reach terrible things through that anger, so it’s very rational. And the moment I understand that it’s rational, I understand what I should aspire to. But that understanding by itself won’t bring me there. How do I make sure that it actually happens? So he says: for that you need the statute. That’s what he says. “But from where will a person gain the understanding, and what will arouse him to curb his free desire and bind himself under the labor of refining character, which is so great? The primary foundation is the statute—the commandments of the Torah of God—for anger is a grave transgression, and all kinds of Gehinnom rule over the angry person. This concern, in proportion to its value, has the power to sharpen a person’s intellect according to his state, by reflecting on what cannot be imagined at the outset.”
Meaning—wait, I’ll continue—but what is he basically saying? The statute, the command, is the thing that can do the work that intellect, that reason, does not do. Yes? For example, we know this also from state law—he’ll get there in a moment. If the law did not forbid going through a red light, obviously many people would not be careful not to go through a red light, even though the logic that it’s wrong to go through a red light still exists. Meaning, in practice you won’t get yourself to do it just because you understand it; you need a command that turns it into law. Now notice: “statute” here has apparently changed meaning relative to the statute and ordinance from the first part of the essay. Earlier he spoke of statute and ordinance in the sense that statute means things that are not rational, ordinance means things that are rational. Here he’s talking about command versus content. That’s not the same distinction; it’s not two kinds of commands. Earlier it was two kinds of commands—the rational and the non-rational. Here he’s talking about two dimensions within the rational things themselves. Rational things have a dimension that is simply their inner logic—that’s the ordinance—and they have a dimension that is the statute that commands you to do them. So ostensibly this is a change of meaning; in other words, a distinction between statute and ordinance in a different sense from what he said earlier. But that’s not exact. There is a connection between the two. Because when I ask myself: why not go through a red light? I can explain to myself: because it’s not rational, it’s dangerous, I’m putting myself at risk—that’s the ordinance explanation. Now in addition to that, there is the command: one must obey the law. I ask myself: why obey the law? So what if there’s a law? If there is no logic in itself—the intrinsic logic is not to go through a red light, that’s the ordinance explanation—but what does the law add beyond the ordinance explanation? Put differently: suppose there were no rational explanation here, but there was a law—why would I keep it? By force of the law. Meaning, here there is some kind of action that really is not rational. So yes—what? And because of the punishment? No, no, there is something beyond that. It’s not just fear of punishment. There is some sense of obligation to obey the law; otherwise there wouldn’t be punishment either. Punishment is given for not obeying the law, while we expect you to obey the law. Without a basis for expecting that from you, why would punishment be imposed on you? Meaning, the assumption is that a person is supposed to understand that he must obey the law. But obeying the law is “statute” in the first sense from the earlier part—it’s something that is, as it were, not rational. It appeals to the obedient part of us, not to the rational part—the part that understands, that acts according to understanding. Therefore there is a connection between—this is not exactly the same thing—the distinction between statute and ordinance made until now and the distinction he is making now. But there is a connection between them; it isn’t moving to something entirely different. Rather, now it really narrows down: within the world of ordinances themselves, there is statute within ordinance and ordinance within ordinance. Meaning, now within every rational matter there is also both statute and ordinance.
And really, if I widen the scope a bit, this is much broader than what he is merely hinting at here. Because really, say regarding commandments—especially commandments—there is a commandment, say, not to murder. It is forbidden to murder. Or a commandment to give charity. These are, let’s say, rational, moral things, all right? So why is a command needed there? He says: because without the command, reason alone would not do the job. We also need some commanding system. By the way, he is not necessarily talking about punishment that accompanies the command. There is something in the command itself that does work beyond rational understanding—that’s how it seems to me at least. Meaning, there is something in people’s sense that this is the law—not just the fear that if I transgress I’ll be punished.
[Speaker F] Do you need to believe in the command?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, yes, obviously. There has to be some trust in the source of the law, that’s clear. But once I have that trust, there is some power in the law not only because of the punishment attached to it. All right? So in the context of serving God there is something far beyond that. I think I’ve mentioned this more than once already—the essay by Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman on repentance, where he says, in the name of the Ramchal, that in every commandment-act or sin-act there are two aspects. There is the aspect of the content—what he calls here the ordinance—and there is the aspect of responding to, or rebelling against, the command. When I perform a commandment—say, I give charity to a poor person—first of all there is the benefit that the poor person is in a better state. Beyond that, there is the response to God’s command, the divine service in it. Okay? So there are two aspects. The same with sins. In a sin, when I eat pork, there is the spiritual damage—whatever that is supposed to be—and therefore it was forbidden; and there is rebellion against the command of the Holy One, blessed be He. That is an additional negative aspect in committing sins. Okay? Now really, when you look at this through the lens of serving God, it takes us back somewhat to Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed. Maimonides brings people who dislike giving reasons for the commandments, because then it turns the commandments into something human, not divine—because then anyone could have commanded me; any person could have commanded me. Maimonides comes out against this idea. What logic underlies it? It’s not only the question whether it is divine or human; rather, the point is that if commandments have reasons, that lowers the dimension of serving God within them. In that sense this is indeed a genuine approach. Since if I do it because of the logic in it, then I am doing it simply because it is logical. In what sense is there here a dimension of serving God? Serving God is here only if I do it as a result of obligation or in response to a command; otherwise I can simply do it because it is logical. That is what Maimonides himself writes regarding anyone who does things because reason compels him—about a resident alien—I also mentioned this more than once—he is one of the wise among the nations, but not one of their pious. All right? What does that mean? It means the act has no religious value. It has human value, moral value; he is a good person. But that is not the religious value. Because religious value is when you perform the act as someone obligated by a command, by a commandment.
So in that sense, in the context of serving God, the command has some standing that is not just that it succeeds in doing work that the rational content does not do. He presents the command only as a means that will lead us safely to the goal, where reason alone may not be sure to succeed. Okay? Because if I understand that one must not get angry, that is not enough—I will still get angry. But if the Holy One, blessed be He, forbids me to get angry, then I will no longer get angry. All right? So it turns out that the whole purpose of the command is only to make sure that I do what is right—it’s just that without it, it won’t happen. I think that’s a very partial description, because there is something in the command that also introduces the whole dimension of serving God into not getting angry, not only the human dimension. Yes, exactly, exactly. So what Maimonides says in the Guide for the Perplexed is only: don’t think there is no logic in what God commanded; don’t think the Holy One, blessed be He, commands arbitrary things with no logic. There is logic in it. But Maimonides does not mean to say—because in the Laws of Kings he says otherwise—that when I fulfill it, I should do it only because of the logic and not because of the command. That’s nonsense. On the contrary, Maimonides says that without doing it because of the command, I am not serving God. I am simply doing logical things. Maybe I am a good person, but I am not serving God. Two different things.
The same is also true—we’ve spoken more than once as well—about Kantian ethics. Yes? Kant says: how do we measure an action… like Reuven also said earlier—by the action and by the actor. So how do we measure the morality of an action? We measure the morality of an action not only by what you did and what results it brought. That is measuring by the action—that was the introduction he gave here on the first page. But what is measuring by the actor? Measuring by the actor is really the question why you did it. Did you do it because you respond to the moral command, the categorical imperative, and only because of obligation did you do this thing? Or did you do it because, if you have a good heart, it is simply pleasant for you to do it? A moral person, according to Kant, is the person of the first kind. But if it is the command of the Holy One, blessed be He—
[Speaker D] If you would have done it anyway, you can’t do it because of God’s command.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because you would have done it anyway.
[Speaker D] I can’t say, okay, you know what, I wouldn’t have done it, but I’m doing it because God—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t agree with that, I don’t agree with that. Although there is a dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) in Ketubot. They discuss there the law of someone who commits a transgression under coercion, where he would have done it anyway—whether he is considered coerced or not. A dispute among later authorities (Acharonim), sorry. They bring proofs there from modest women and promiscuous women, and there’s the Pnei Yehoshua and Chelkat Yoav… You can look in the Talmudic Encyclopedia under the entry “coercion.” The question is: if you are coerced to do something but really you would have done it anyway, are you considered coerced or not? Fine, that is a question of how to define coercion. But here it’s a very similar question. Meaning: when I do something that I would have done anyway, like the moral commandments—after all, the commandments, as Maimonides himself… Maimonides, chapter six of Shemonah Perakim, says that in moral, rational commandments there is specifically value in a person internalizing them. He doesn’t do it as “I do not desire.” “Do not say, ‘I do not desire to eat pork’; rather, ‘I do desire and I do desire—but what can I do? My Father in Heaven decreed it upon me.’” That’s with the non-rational commandments. But with rational commandments there is specifically an idea of internalizing them. That doesn’t contradict the Maimonides I mentioned earlier. Maimonides says there is value in internalizing, and that nevertheless, also in my own character I should want to do the right thing. But that does not mean that when I do it, I do it because that’s just how I’m built. Not only because that’s how I’m built, but also because of responding to the command.
[Speaker B] It’s like with the one who suppresses his inclination versus the upright person, or like the righteous person in Tanya. Meaning, after you’ve reached that level where you really aren’t suppressing anything—meaning, you have no struggle.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The fact that I have no struggle does not mean that I am not doing it because of that. Where is the choice? Choice is in relation to something; you can’t choose not in relation to something. That’s not true, not true. “I have no struggle” does not mean I am not choosing, only that I have no struggle. Meaning, I can… In other words, where will it be measured, the fact that really I am also doing it because of the command? Suppose I woke up one morning in a bad mood—or angry, jealous, okay? Now the question is whether I will still do it. If I still do it, then even in a case where I’m not jealous and I do it because I’ve already worked on my traits and I’m no longer jealous, it’s there too. So they ask there: at the very point itself, how can one know? How can one know—that’s a diagnostic question. The Holy One, blessed be He, can know; maybe I can’t know. What difference does it make? I ask… You asked earlier, you made a different claim—not “how can one know,” but “it’s not true.”
[Speaker B] That’s another question. Because there was nothing there. There was no decision, there was no choice.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s not true. I’m saying: if I do it… like I’ve also brought a few times the introduction to the Eglei Tal, where he says that some people say it’s not good to study with joy or to enjoy study, because that is study not for its own sake—you’re supposed to suffer. So he says that’s nonsense. But he continues and says: however, if you study because of the enjoyment, then it really is study not for its own sake. Now what does that mean—like you ask—after all, I enjoy and I study, and I also enjoy it, so does that automatically mean that I study because of the enjoyment? So he says no, no. Where will it be measured? It will be measured when I wake up one morning in a bad mood and have no desire to study. If I nevertheless sit down to study, that means I also study because of responding to the command. Once that is so—it’s like Maimonides’ penitent—when do you measure it? When he is in the same situation and does not repeat his sin. In such a case you understand that even when he is not in that situation, if he doesn’t repeat the sin, then that is perfectly fine and he is a penitent. True, in other situations I as a human being won’t be able to measure it—that I agree with, that’s your second question: how do you know. But your first question I don’t agree with. That really, if so, then it isn’t done from the right motive. That I don’t agree with. I do agree that it’s hard to see. All right? The Holy One, blessed be He, will see it. Yes.
[Speaker C] Still, I think there is a difference between law—between state law, where you basically want to ensure…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, but that’s why I moved to serving God. In state law it is certainly not so. In state law—I also said, when we discussed that Maimonides—there is a Maimonides in the Commentary on the Mishnah on Hullin, and a Maimonides in the Laws of Kings. In the Commentary on the Mishnah on Hullin he says there, regarding the sciatic nerve and a limb taken from a living animal, that all the commandments we observe today are because of the command at Sinai, even though some commandments were commanded earlier too, but the reason we do them is because of the command at Sinai. In the Laws of Kings he says what I just said now: that anyone who does things because reason compels him and not because of the command at Sinai is one of the wise among the nations, but not one of their pious. Meaning, it has human moral value, but not religious value. That’s not the same statement. Two different statements. The statement in the Commentary on the Mishnah on Hullin is about the basic norm. It is a statement about where the source of force, the source of validity of the laws comes from. On what basis will they make claims against me when I transgress Jewish law? On the basis of the command at Sinai. Even if circumcision was already commanded to Abraham earlier, if I do not circumcise my son, the claim against me will not be by virtue of Abraham’s command, but by virtue of the command of Sinai. But that does not mean that when I circumcise my son, I have to think consciously that I am doing it because of the command at Sinai. That is an instruction to the judge, not to me. On what basis does the judge come to me with claims? On the basis of the command at Sinai. In the Laws of Kings Maimonides is talking about the motivation that must accompany me as the one doing the act. Commandments require intention. So I need to intend to fulfill my obligation, that obligation which we were commanded in at Sinai.
Now with law, you have the Maimonides in the Commentary on the Mishnah, but not the Maimonides in the Laws of Kings. When the law comes to someone with claims because he is a criminal, that is because the Knesset legislated it. That exists in law too; otherwise you have no basis to come to him with claims. So you need a basic norm also in the context of law. But the law makes absolutely no demand that when I stand at a red light and do not cross, I should do it for the sake of heavenly unification because the Knesset legislated it. And if I simply stand at the red light without these lofty intentions, am I considered a criminal? The legislator couldn’t care less, as long as you do what is required. So the legislator accepts the Maimonides in the Commentary on the Mishnah, the basic norm—Mount Sinai or Knesset legislation—as the basic norm. He does not accept it as a law of “commandments require intention,” meaning as something that is supposed to accompany the performance. Okay? That exists only in Jewish law. Therefore it was no accident that I moved from discussing law to discussing the context of serving God.
[Speaker D] How can a large system function if every detail in the large system acts according to its own logic or according to how it feels? Meaning, in order for the world—or for the beehive—to work, every single individual in the hive, or the ants—if suddenly one wants to sit and rest, then it delays all those coming after it. Right.
[Speaker C] Now—
[Speaker D] Whether it’s for the sake of a commandment or not a commandment, first of all I have to do it even if it’s uncomfortable for me, or even if it’s fun for me right now to go through the red light because I’m screwing over that guy crossing now from right to left on green.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, you’re saying—you—
[Speaker D] Basically you’re saying it’s not only the commandment that I personally need in order to receive reward, but it’s also a bonus so that the whole system will work, because otherwise the whole earth and the whole hive and the whole preparatory program with the ants won’t work.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re saying that in fact law has another role besides the role he mentions. The role he mentions is the possibility of compelling me to do something that my reason alone wouldn’t manage to do. You’re saying law has another role. The additional role is this: if there are conflicting rationalities. One person’s logic says yes, go through the red light, and another says no. Now what’s his fault that your logic is crooked? You’ll crash into him. So there is some problem here, and law has to synchronize people’s different understandings. Okay, he is not speaking about that aspect of law, but about another aspect. That doesn’t mean he denies the other aspects of law, but he is speaking about this one. Okay?
[Speaker C] But this point doesn’t necessarily matter only when it’s something that belongs to society or not. Even if it’s something that belongs only to me, there are situations in which I will err—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I won’t want to do the right thing.
[Speaker C] Yes, a thousand and one reasons that I’ll make a mistake.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No problem, it’s the same thing, the same issue. But he is not talking about that issue. All right? He is talking about the fact that you need the command even in order to do what you understand ought to be done. And we all know this; all in all, it’s human nature. So therefore he says that in this sense the statute is a means, or a ladder—the rungs of a ladder by which one climbs to the ordinance. Meaning, in order to fulfill the thing that is basically rational in my eyes, I need this dimension of obedience to law, because without that I won’t fulfill even the ordinance dimension. And therefore in that sense, the statute… comes before the ordinance, even though in the first verse ordinance appears before statute because that is according to the order of the levels. All right? But in terms of our inner chronology, statute has to appear before ordinance, because statute is what leads to the fulfillment of ordinance. And that is really what he wants; that’s how he explains the second verse. Okay? Now again, leave aside whether this is an explanation of the verses or not. What he says is true. What difference does it make whether it explains the verses or not? Maybe he doesn’t mean—
[Speaker C] He isn’t explaining the verse, but he’s taking the logic that’s in it. What—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] If that is the logic in the verse, then that’s an explanation of the verse, no?
[Speaker C] No, I know the idea. He says it could be that this wasn’t the intention for which the verse was written this way, but it could be that it fits with some other idea behind it. Maybe you can learn something else from it, but it also fits with—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, fine. I didn’t say it has to be the only interpretation. But whether it is an interpretation of the verse at all—that’s a question. The additional question is: even if it is an interpretation of the verse, can there be other interpretations in parallel? That’s a dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides in the second root. Maimonides says: can there be several interpretations of the same verse? Maimonides says no—the midrashic interpretation cannot be Torah-level; it is rabbinic teaching. Why? Because the Sages tell us: “A verse does not depart from its plain meaning.” Nachmanides attacks him and says: what do you mean, “A verse does not depart from its plain meaning”? It means that when you interpret by way of derash, don’t forget that there is also another interpretation, namely the plain meaning—the verse does not depart from its plain meaning. But “the verse does not depart from its plain meaning” does not mean that derash is not an interpretation. It only means that even when you interpret by way of derash, don’t forget the peshat. You know, it’s like “Do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” What the Minchat Chinukh, I think, wants to say is that there is no prohibition at all against placing an actual obstacle before a blind person. Rather, the prohibition is only against causing someone to sin and giving him bad advice. Those are the Sages’ midrashic readings of that verse. But the verse says something—the words “before the blind do not place”—that isn’t forbidden? And the Sages didn’t expound that? The meaning of “a verse does not depart from its plain meaning” is: don’t grab only the derash; there is also the peshat. Maimonides says no. “A verse does not depart from its plain meaning” means that the interpretation is only the peshat. Meaning, if there is a plain interpretation, the midrashic interpretation is not an interpretation of the verse. Rather it is some kind of extension, spirit of the matter, whatever you want. It is not an interpretation of the verse. Maimonides’ conception, in his theory of interpretation, is that a verse has only one interpretation. And Nachmanides attacks him on that and says: there are seventy faces to the Torah. What do you mean? We find in many places that there are many interpretations of the same verse. Here we are still discussing an earlier level: after I decide that this is an interpretation, then I can begin discussing whether it is the true interpretation or the only interpretation, sorry. I’m discussing whether this is an interpretation at all. Okay?
[Speaker C] Where does Maimonides say that?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In the second root. In the second root.
[Speaker C] But it seems to me those questions depend on one another. Because if I assume there is one interpretation, then I won’t be willing to accept this as the only interpretation; and if I assume there can be—that maybe there are supposed to be hints in the verse—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Could be. You can argue about that. You can argue about that. I’m not sure I agree; maybe. I’m not sure I agree. I examine each interpretation on its own merits—either it convinces me as an interpretation of the verse or it doesn’t. What was the only interpretation?
[Speaker B] What was the only interpretation?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of this verse?
[Speaker B] Of every verse.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know—each verse.
[Speaker B] “An eye for an eye.” What was the plain meaning?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The plain meaning is “an eye for an eye”—to remove an eye for an eye. That’s the plain meaning. And that’s not what we… Right, we do not operate with the plain meaning; we operate with the derash.
[Speaker B] The derash tells us not to operate with the plain meaning.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But Maimonides agrees… Yes, Maimonides didn’t say the derash is incorrect. Maimonides said that derash is not an interpretation of the verse; rather it is something outside the verse. It does not reveal the intent of the verse; rather it does something beyond the verse. He did not say the derash is incorrect. In fact that is his very next sentence there in the second root. He says: “And I do not say this because the derashot are untrue.” Don’t suspect me of thinking the derashot are untrue. I’m claiming that derash is not an interpretive tool—that’s what I’m saying. Not that derash is not a legitimate halakhic tool; of course it is. Okay? What does “true” mean? “True” means binding from a halakhic standpoint, authorized, valid. But it is not an interpretation of the verse. An interpretive method descended to us from Sinai, and the Holy One, blessed be He, told us that you can use these tools to derive laws, and that is legitimate, fine, that is what I want. But don’t think that in doing so you are interpreting the verse. The verse means its plain meaning. That’s what Maimonides claims. All right?
Yes, so basically when we always see in matters of commerce that through concern and necessity a person’s intellect rises to an exalted level—maybe “exalted” or maybe the text reads differently, could be “exalted”—beyond what one could imagine. Yes? If you’re under pressure and someone is pressuring you, you’ll bring out more from yourself. Meaning, when you understand something through the intellect, if there is law, your intellect will work better. And also in commerce, when you have constraints, you’ll manage to do things you can’t do without the constraints. “And so almost in all character traits, the entrance by which one enters them is the statute—the commandments of the Torah of God. For a bad trait is a lofty transgression,” meaning a great transgression, “as the Sages greatly expanded on its punishment. And a good trait is a great commandment, as the Sages assessed its greatness. And therefore, according to the magnitude of their consequences, one comes to rational reflection until they are repaired and attain the status of ordinance in their true definition. And this is the meaning of the second verse: ‘And you shall guard My statutes’ first, and from them, ‘and My ordinances you shall do.’” Yes, here he explains the second verse, the order—that the statutes are the rungs on the way to the ordinances.
Now here too there is room for a slight comment. When he speaks about repairing character traits, he says: it is very rational to repair character traits, because if you don’t repair them you won’t succeed; if you do not become non-hot-tempered by nature, then in practice you won’t succeed in not getting angry. That is basically his claim. Therefore you need some statute that will force you to work on your character so that eventually you will not be hot-tempered—not to get angry, sorry, not “not to be hot-tempered.” So it’s not the same thing. Repairing traits means changing the soul. Now he presents changing the soul as a means, while the goal is really changing behavior. Changing behavior is the ordinance, the logic; and changing the soul is the statute. And that you won’t do unless there is a statute, because why change the soul? All you need is to change behavior; you don’t need to change the soul. And that is an interesting point, because there is also—I think I mentioned this once—
[Speaker D] But doesn’t the vitality disappear? What? Doesn’t the vitality disappear? Why would the vitality disappear? Since I’ve turned into a different kind of person, no longer hot-tempered, now all my life I’m this easygoing, chill kind of guy. So that’s it, finished. So how do I now get to more? Why get to more? You got to more.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What? You got there—you’re now no longer hot-tempered.
[Speaker D] A basketball coach who’s always smiling and laughing and chewing gum—his team will look terrible.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he’s saying: don’t lose the energy. What? Don’t lose the energy.
[Speaker D] Don’t be hot-tempered, but be able to connect—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Hot-temperedness and motivation to do things are not the same thing. Hot-temperedness means dealing with the negative eruptions of emotion, not the positive energies you draw from emotion. Fine—how do you do that? That’s a psychological question, I’m not going into that now. That’s his claim. He is not claiming that we need to neutralize our inner engines. That’s true, that’s true.
[Speaker C] Well, the NBA can testify to that too: the best coaches in the NBA are the ones who don’t get angry. Okay, so we learned something new.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In any event, in any event, Rabbi Chaim Vital asks a question: why were we not commanded about character refinement? It’s a famous question. And he says that we were not commanded about character refinement because someone who doesn’t understand that he has to refine his character is in any case not subject to command—he’s not a human being; the Torah speaks to human beings.
[Speaker C] Not subject to command in general, or specifically with regard to this commandment?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I think in general even—so it seems to me. I’d have to look there again, but that’s how it seems to me. Rabbi Kook—I said, I already mentioned—that Rabbi Kook takes this one step further. He says more than that: a command here would have been destructive. Because if we had been commanded to work on our character, the example I always give in this context—and this will surely remind people of the fellow with the matchmaking. Yes? He meets women and rejects them all, and then the mashgiach sends him to work on his character for a year. He works with great enthusiasm, and after a year he meets the women again and once again rejects them all. The mashgiach says to him: tell me, didn’t you work on your character? He says: of course I did. A year ago, when I was arrogant, none of them suited me. Now that I’m humble too, of course none of them suits me—so even less. So this is basically the expression of someone who works on his character because there is a clause in the Shulchan Arukh saying you need to work on your character, not because he really understands that he needs to work on his character. And in that sense, that’s exactly the point. So Rabbi Kook says we were not commanded to work on our character because that would have ruined it. Because if we had been commanded, then we would have done it because of the command, and that would have turned us into people who do not truly have refined character. So in places where the command ruins things, the Torah is careful not to command. That is one step beyond Rabbi Chaim Vital.
What I don’t understand in this context—it’s like Rav Chaim always says: there is no such Tosafot. There is a command to work on your character; what are they talking about? It says to cleave to His attributes: just as He is merciful, so you should be merciful; just as He is gracious, so you should be gracious. What do you mean there is no command? To work on your traits—everyone engages in pilpul to reconcile how there is no command, but there is a command.
[Speaker B] Is working on character traits a commandment?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, of course. All the enumerators of the commandments.
[Speaker F] Maybe they held that it is just a pious practice.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All the enumerators of the commandments—to say it’s merely a pious practice? I don’t know. Maimonides writes it, all the books of Jewish law write it: “cleave to His attributes.” It appears as an explicit commandment, detailed in the Mishneh Torah, everything, every law book.
[Speaker C] Do the enumerators of the commandments count it too—even the Geonim?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All the enumerators of the commandments around Maimonides, certainly. I didn’t check them all, but that’s obvious.
[Speaker C] No, the question is whether there are ones before Maimonides—in the Baal Halakhot Gedolot.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It doesn’t matter. They don’t ask this question about those enumerators; they ask it about the halakhic mainstream. The halakhic mainstream counts it. So what’s the answer? I don’t know. Maybe they count it too, I don’t remember, I didn’t check.
[Speaker D] In Shtaimbach, Shtaimbach—only in the Lithuanian yeshivot did they climb onto a shtender and shout at the other guy: character traits! Character traits! Work on your character, character traits!
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So in any case, I once thought that maybe this question is based on the distinction we made here: that the command to cleave to the attributes of the Holy One, blessed be He, means to behave as He behaves. Because after all, even about the Holy One, blessed be He, we can’t really say that He is merciful. We can say that His conduct in the world is merciful, right? So we too need to cleave to His attributes and behave mercifully. The question is whether I have to work inwardly on my trait and become merciful in my soul—not just behave in practice like a merciful person. That there is no command for. So that is what they are asking: why did the Torah not command that? And then that is what they say: one must work on one’s character not because of the command, but simply work on one’s character. In terms of behavior—understand, this is peshat, not derash—from the standpoint of the command, that fellow with the matchmaking is fine; really everything is okay. What’s the problem? He behaves correctly according to the rules, right? So what’s problematic about him? It’s not the behavior. No, I mean—what’s the problem? He is completely humble and everything is fine; he thinks they aren’t suitable for him. Is it forbidden to think that? What’s the issue?
[Speaker C] The problem is apparently that his judgment is distorted.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he’s judging correctly. He’s now humble—no, no—
[Speaker C] There is something here beyond judgment.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s some claim here that says: you fixed the behavior, but maybe—if that’s the parable’s point, and I don’t want to get into too many fine distinctions right now—but if that’s the point, then in your heart you’re still just as arrogant as you were before; you didn’t fix anything. Meaning, really, you didn’t repair the soul, you didn’t truly work on your character traits. Maybe you arrived at the correct practice, maybe, but the fact is that we can see that in your heart that’s not really what’s there. I’ve talked about this more than once, also in connection with Hanukkah, with the cake divided into two parts: we want to make sure children divide the cake into two equal parts, so one child divides it and the other chooses first. That way we arrive at the correct practical result; the division will be exact. But the inner psychological correction of those children has definitely not happened—quite the opposite. Okay? So this is exactly the distinction he’s making here.
[Speaker D] It causes each one to remain an egoist.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. More than that—it actually encourages him to be an egoist. The more egoistic he is, the better practical results we’ll get. It even encourages egoism in an evolutionary process. But in this distinction he makes here between practice and law, he’s actually ignoring that distinction. He makes the distinction, but not in this way. He basically says that inner character work is really just a means so that in practice we’ll behave properly, because without it the practice won’t look right—it’ll burst out. And what I said just now is not that. What I said is the opposite: that repairing the soul has value in and of itself, not only as a means of ensuring correct practice, but the repair of the soul itself is a value. To be that kind of person. Yes, in order to be that kind of person. You could even go further and say that correct practice is required so that you’ll be a human being, and really that’s the goal. The practice is only the… because “hearts are drawn after actions.” So how do you treat the soul? I don’t know how to touch the soul directly; through the actions I perform, I somehow also manage to shape my soul, and perhaps maybe that’s even the goal—to shape my soul. Fine, you can debate that.
[Speaker C] But you also can’t analyze the soul except on the basis of the way a person behaves in practice.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, analyze. Again, I’m going back to the comment I heard earlier. But the question of whether it exists—that’s something the Holy One, blessed be He, will analyze, not me. But the question is whether it’s really there. Meaning… but even you yourself don’t always know.
[Speaker C] Right, except when you reach a test point.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] “And so too regarding keeping the laws of the state, although they fall under the category of rational laws, and human reason judges that they should be observed completely without deficiency even when no one sees”—yes, like going through a red light in the middle of the night when no one is around—“even so, from the aspect of law as decree, they are commandments of the Torah of God, from Scripture and tradition, which strongly warn us to be careful and to fulfill whatever issues forth from the government, may its glory be exalted. This will give abundant strength to drive away all the thorns of desire so that the eyes of reason may be enlightened to see the truth as it truly is, to love…” This is really a pamphlet—“to love the rulers of the state, and to devote one’s life to fulfilling its role.” Fine? So we’ve satisfied the censor, and now we can keep going. “Now let us return to examine the commandment of Torah study: is it a decree or a rational law? Reason would suggest that even the study of the Torah of decrees is considered a rational law.” What is Torah study—is it a decree or a rational law? He says even the study of decrees counts as a rational law. “For as we say in the Talmud, tractate Bava Kamma”—again, this is the contemporary pilpul to convey this simple idea—“for as we say in the Talmud, Bava Kamma 17b: ‘And they did him honor in his death’—this refers to Hezekiah king of Judah, for they placed a Torah scroll on his bier after he died and said: ‘This one fulfilled what is written in this.’ And nowadays… even ‘he fulfilled’ we say, but ‘he taught’ we do not say”—fine, the Talmud’s line of thought there isn’t important right now. “But didn’t the master say: Great is Torah study, for study leads to action,” etc. “And Tosafot wrote, and Rabbenu Tam says that this is the explanation: ‘But didn’t the master say that study leads to action’—and since we say ‘he fulfilled,’ we are thereby saying that he studied, for if he did not study, how did he fulfill? For study leads to action.’ End quote. So even if the fulfillment is a decree, still the obligation of study is a rational law, something human reason obligates us to do, for if he does not study, how will he fulfill?” Let’s say there’s a Jewish law that’s a decree, with no apparent logic. Studying that law is a rational law. Why? Because if you don’t study it, how will you fulfill it? Now, to say this, do you need this Tosafot and this Talmudic passage? It’s obvious that you have to study in order to know what to do. Fine, again—that’s the genre, it doesn’t matter. It’s like Tosafot that proves that there are many stars in the sky because it says, “Go out and see the stars, whether they can be counted,” said to Abraham our father. So now I know there are lots of stars in the sky; before that I wouldn’t have known. How Abraham knew—that’s the interesting question. He didn’t have the verse; he just went outside, looked, and saw it. There I can’t see it.
[Speaker B] He says God commanded him. Okay, but the proof here also isn’t one hundred percent airtight, right? It doesn’t prove only study. He supposedly proved it because of study, that if they said he fulfilled it, that’s a sign he studied. But that’s not proof that only study leads to action. It’s not proof that…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not only study leads to action—that’s not a proof that… no. If action can happen without study, then the fact that you acted does not show that you studied.
[Speaker B] Right, exactly… it’s not a proof. It does show that you studied.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Tosafot says it does; the Talmud says it does. So…
[Speaker B] It’s not valid logical proof. It would be valid if they had said that only study leads to action.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Talmud’s proof isn’t valid, or the proof not from the Talmud?
[Speaker B] The one not from the Talmud.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? It’s completely a proof. The Talmud says that if he fulfilled it, that means he studied. But that’s the Talmud itself—leave it, that’s another issue. But the proof not from the Talmud is just a simple principle—why do you need to prove it from the Talmud? What he says is obvious. So what does he want to say? That the study of a decree is itself a rational law—there is logic in it. Okay, so even in the study of something non-rational, there’s logic in that. “Indeed, from the category of decree there also emerges the study of the Torah of rational law.” There’s an element of rational law within decree, and there’s an element of decree within rational law. Why? Because study itself is a commandment, even if it did not lead to action. So in the dimension of study—even the study of rational matters—there is a dimension that is decree. Why? There is value in studying them not only so that it leads to action; there is also value in studying them in their own right. This is a little connected, I think, to what you remarked about the Talmud. Okay? So that’s what he says. There’s also a dimension of decree in the study of rational law. What’s the proof? “Just as there is a commandment to expound the law of the stubborn and rebellious son, according to the one who says it never was and never will be, and human reason opposes it—here, God decreed it. And so too in all parts of Torah, in their study there is also a decretal commandment that cannot be divided except in thought.” Yes, human reason opposes the law of the stubborn and rebellious son—why should you study the stubborn and rebellious son if it will never come to practical application? You see from here that there is a decree of Torah study, not only the rational principle that says you need to study in order to fulfill. Because regarding the stubborn and rebellious son, they told us it never was and never will be. So why study it? You have to study it because there is a decree to study. So even in rational study there is decree, and in decretal study there is rationality. And that’s his claim. “Perhaps this is what the Mishnah hints at in Avot, chapter 4: ‘One who studies in order to do’—and it did not say, ‘one who studies in order to do’ in the purely instrumental sense, but rather ‘with the intention to do.’ For study itself is good when it is approached with the mentality of decree, even if no action would emerge from it.” When you study, even if you study with the intention to do, you need to study in a way that also attributes value to the study itself. Even if you really think you’re studying in order to fulfill, there is value in studying just for the learning itself. Learning as an end. “It is a more exalted mode than rational study. Yet on condition that action be generated from it.” Okay, I would put it a little differently: “Great is study, for it leads to action.” You need to study in such a way that it leads you to the practical conclusion. But that doesn’t mean the purpose of study is fulfillment. It only defines the proper form of study. Proper study is study that ends with a practical conclusion. But that doesn’t mean study in itself is not an independent value—an intellectual or spiritual value of its own, independently, not merely as a means of knowing what to fulfill. So again, that’s a different discussion. “And in light of what we have said, the words of our Sages of blessed memory in Nedarim, chapter 1, will be illuminated: ‘They did not listen to My voice’—that means ‘they did not walk in it.’ Rav Yehudah said in the name of Rav: because they did not recite the blessing over Torah first.” And they explained—this is Rashi’s explanation—that they did not recite the blessing over Torah when they rose to study Torah, see there. “And every person is astonished at this strange desire: that regarding Torah study, which saps a person’s strength, the issue was only that they did not bless over it first.” What kind of strange evil inclination is this? Torah scholars devote their lives to Torah study, which is hard—they study constantly, day and night—but when it comes to the blessing over Torah, there they cut corners? What’s the problem? Say a blessing beforehand. Is that what broke you? You wear yourself out all day over Torah study, and at the beginning you have this strange evil inclination and you don’t recite the blessing over Torah. “And the Ran wrote in the name of Rabbenu Yonah: they were constantly occupied with Torah, but they did not recite the blessing over Torah first, meaning that Torah was not important enough in their eyes to warrant a blessing over it. For they were not engaged in it for its own sake. And because of that, they belittled the blessing.” And this is very puzzling—to say that because of that they would belittle the blessing over Torah, which is Torah-level at least according to Maimonides; the blessing over Torah is Torah-level. And there is no desire that should interfere—what kind of thing is that? “However, according to what we explained, it can be interpreted as follows. For we say in Menachot 42a: every commandment whose performance constitutes the completion of the commandment, such as circumcision, requires a blessing; and every commandment whose performance is not the completion of the commandment, such as tefillin—their making is not the completion of the commandment until one ties them on—does not require a blessing.” Meaning: you don’t recite blessings over preparatory acts for a commandment. You don’t bless over means; you bless only over ends. Only over a commandment that completes the matter do you recite a blessing. But over making tefillin you do not recite a blessing, because making tefillin is merely preparation for the commandment; only when you tie them on the arm is the commandment completed, so over the tying you recite the blessing, but not over the making. And then he says: according to this, over the rational aspect of Torah study one should not recite a blessing. Since Torah study is a means to know what to do, one should not recite a blessing, because it is only a means. You recite a blessing only when you do. “And the basis of the blessing over Torah was established on the commandment of Torah study from the aspect of decree”—meaning that study itself is a commandment, not study as a means to fulfill. “Therefore it could be that desire ruled over them, and they wanted only to study within the category of rational law, because human reason obligates it; but to study from the aspect of decree, since reason opposes it and the inclination rejects it, their soul recoiled from this.” This is what he said at the beginning—that decree is harder to fulfill because it’s not logical. That was the inclination of those Torah scholars. Their inclination was: we fulfill only the things that make sense. What does that mean? That we study only where there is real logic in it—you need to study in order to know what to do. But to study for the sake of study itself—that’s not logical. So they conceived of study as a means, and therefore they understood that there was no need to recite the blessing over Torah, because the blessing over Torah is recited only over ends and not over means. For some reason they forgot to study that there is a law requiring the blessing over Torah. They didn’t stop studying. This pilpul is very charming, but let’s say that to see it as an interpretation of the Talmud is a little problematic.
[Speaker D] They never stopped studying; they missed it once in cheder and that was it.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You have to do it every day—what can you do, those are the halakhic definitions; every day. That was their mistake because of that. “So long as they were engaged in Torah, their intention was only in the mode of rational law, and it was not the completion of the commandment, and therefore they did not bless over it. It follows, then, that the reward for Torah study is not in the aspect of rational law, but in that aspect which also participates with it as decree. And in its desired intention is the statement with which he set the opening of our discussion.” Here he closes the circle, and I think it’s a very beautiful idea—and it’s even true, it seems to me, at least. Sanhedrin 71a: “The stubborn and rebellious son never was and never will be. Why was it written? Expound it and receive reward.” That is, reward for the aspect of decree alone, which is higher in level in this respect, although reduced in practical value since it does not lead to action. See Kiddushin 40b. What is he actually saying? He explains the Talmud beautifully. The stubborn and rebellious son never existed and never will—so why was it taught? Expound it and receive reward. What did he ask at the beginning—right at the beginning? What did he ask? What, without those three verses I had mastered all the rest of Torah? He says: you’re not reading the Talmud correctly. Precisely because of this. The principle taught here is the principle of “expound and receive reward.” The passage of the stubborn and rebellious son was written not in order to study the passage of the stubborn and rebellious son, but in order to teach the principle of “expound and receive reward.” What is that principle? That there is value in expounding, in learning, not because of the goal, but that one receives reward for the learning itself. Learning is decree, not only rational law. And that is what the passage of the stubborn and rebellious son teaches. When it says in the Talmud, “expound and receive reward,” it does not mean that those three verses were written so that you would receive reward for them, but so that you would learn from them the principle that when one studies, one studies for the reward—not for the practical goal; that is, the decree and not the rational law. Okay. Good.