Torah and Torah Study, Lesson 2

Table of Contents

• Kindness and judgment as an abstract structure, not simple morality
• Halakhic examples that illustrate kindness and judgment
• The three lines in the ten sefirot and their appearance on different planes
• The unfolding of reality: Infinite Light, contraction, line, and Primordial Man
• Wisdom, understanding, and knowledge: logic, axioms, and the limits of pure judgment
• Kindness, restraint, and harmony: impulse, control, and channeling instead of extinguishing
• Modesty, the sexual impulse, Freud, and the experience that “there is no creativity without impulse”
• Criticism of extinguishing impulse in the yeshiva world and the story of the journal “Meisharim”
• The author of the Tanya and the righteous person: doubt about “slaughtering the evil inclination”
• Chatam Sofer, Pri Chadash, adding to the Torah, and Lag BaOmer as adding a festival
• Hod within Hod, “a religious court all of whose members convict,” and “judgment within judgment” as hidden kindness
• A logical demonstration: you cannot justify the rules of inference from within inference itself
• Purim, breaking rules, and rabbinic-level forbidden mixtures as an example of deviating from judgment
• Rema of Fano: a fortiori reasoning, Keter, and Dayo as genuine learning from the lenient to the stringent

Summary

General Overview

The speaker completes the discussion of the relationship between the hidden and the revealed through a basic kabbalistic distinction between kindness and judgment, presenting them not as good versus obligation but as fundamental movements: action according to deterministic rules versus action outside the rules. He argues that neither pole can stand on its own, not in thought, not in character traits, and not in action, and maps this onto the structure of the three lines within the ten sefirot. From there he brings two sources, one from the responsa of the Chatam Sofer and one from the Rema of Fano, to show how halakhic concepts such as a fortiori reasoning and Dayo reflect kabbalistic structures, and how Lag BaOmer is tied to the idea of “judgment within judgment,” which leads to the revelation of a hidden point of kindness within the system of judgment.

Kindness and Judgment as an Abstract Structure, Not Simple Morality

The speaker defines judgment as operating according to rules of cause and effect that dictate a path of development, and kindness as action not according to rules, against the rules, or outside the rules. He connects this to parallel distinctions in other mystical teachings, like yin and yang and male and female, and sees these as spiritual intuitions that grasp something real even if they did not “come down from Sinai.” He emphasizes that kindness is not necessarily good, and notes that kindness can also be action that is unreasonable relative to ordinary human rules, so it includes deviation that is not necessarily in a positive direction.

Halakhic Examples that Illustrate Kindness and Judgment

The speaker presents repayment of a debt as an example of judgment and giving charity as an example of kindness, because the giving is not required by the rules of monetary entitlement even though there is a commandment of charity. He stresses that these are not definitions but examples of more abstract processes: action according to rules versus action outside the rules. He cites the statement, “He created the world with the attribute of judgment and saw that it could not endure, so He combined it with the attribute of mercy,” in order to argue that pure judgment cannot hold up, but kindness by itself also cannot hold up. He illustrates this with an economic analogy in which communism and capitalism cannot exist on their own and a combination is needed.

The Three Lines in the Ten Sefirot and Their Appearance on Different Planes

The speaker describes the ten sefirot and presents an alternative description of three lines: right, left, and middle. The right line is kindness, the left line is judgment, and the middle is the combination. He maps this onto three domains: in the intellectual world, wisdom is kindness, understanding is judgment, and knowledge is the combination; in the world of character traits, kindness and restraint combine into harmony; and in the world of powers, Netzach and Hod combine into Yesod, with Malkhut gathering them all. He argues that the same logical structure repeats itself on all these planes: rules versus deviation from rules, with the middle as the form of stable existence.

The Unfolding of Reality: Infinite Light, Contraction, Line, and Primordial Man

The speaker brings the description of the Ari as he understands it, and as Leshem describes it, according to which at first “the Infinite Light filled all of reality,” then the light withdrew and an empty space was formed, and into it entered a line of light from above that does not touch the bottom so as not to nullify the contraction. He presents a stage of a “world of line and contraction,” in which the sefirot are arranged one above the other, and then a stage of “Primordial Man,” in which the form of a human being and the structure of three lines appear for the first time. From there the structures of the three lines also develop in the worlds of Atzilut, Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah. He explains that the right side is named after the sefirah of kindness because it is the highest on the right side, and connects this as well to the structure of the counting of the Omer, where one counts the lower seven.

Wisdom, Understanding, and Knowledge: Logic, Axioms, and the Limits of Pure Judgment

The speaker identifies understanding with “understanding one thing from another” and with logical rules of inference, and argues that logic deals with conditional relations between propositions and does not determine the truth or falsehood of propositions in themselves, and therefore it is an “empty structure.” He argues that pure judgment on the intellectual plane leads to skepticism and emptiness, because every conclusion is derived from assumptions that cannot themselves be derived logically without getting stuck in an infinite regress. He defines wisdom as the power of mah and as things that are “true in and of themselves,” which provide the foundational points, and he defines knowledge as the combination of assumptions, rules of derivation, and conclusions. He gives the example of axiomatization in fields such as biology and physics in Tarski to illustrate the structure.

Kindness, Restraint, and Harmony: Impulse, Control, and Channeling Instead of Extinguishing

The speaker defines restraint as self-control and as controlled action according to rules, and cites “Who is mighty? One who conquers his impulse” as a kind of strength that is not physical power but control. He argues that kindness is “the prime mover” that drives action, and without a motor there is nothing to control, but without control kindness leads to catastrophes, and therefore harmony is the combination of kindness and restraint. He cites the stories of Rebecca giving water to the camels and Abraham slaughtering three calves and serving “three tongues with mustard” as disproportionate actions that illustrate uncalculated kindness, and declares that Abraham and Rebecca here are not models to imitate but markers of a pure pole that has to be combined with restraint.

Modesty, the Sexual Impulse, Freud, and the Experience that “There Is No Creativity Without Impulse”

The speaker describes a conversation with a secular friend who argued that excessive preoccupation with modesty inflames impulse, and he responds that the goal of modesty is not “to extinguish the impulse” but to channel it and control it. He cites the words of the Talmud about the Men of the Great Assembly, who nullified the sexual impulse, and then “they could not find a chicken egg in all the Land of Israel,” in order to argue that without impulse there is no creativity. He mentions Freud and the idea of libido as a basic engine of human activity even beyond reproduction, and argues that the wisdom is to use impulses constructively and moderate them.

Criticism of Extinguishing Impulse in the Yeshiva World and the Story of the Journal “Meisharim”

The speaker recounts a statement he heard in the name of Rabbi Steinsaltz that in Yeruham “it is a yeshiva without an evil inclination,” and he interprets that as something extinguished, leading to the result that “nothing was created there.” He describes how for years he pushed to produce a journal called “Meisharim,” and when he tried to understand why people were not writing articles, he was told there was a modesty problem because writing would be perceived as arrogance. He describes his reaction as anger at the attempt to extinguish the impulse instead of channeling it, and concludes that without it people come out as “nobodies,” because there is no drive for creativity and composition.

The Author of the Tanya and the Righteous Person: Doubt About “Slaughtering the Evil Inclination”

The speaker is asked about “the righteous person of the Tanya,” who supposedly killed or slaughtered the evil inclination, and he says he has no idea whether such a thing exists and suggests that maybe this is a theoretical type rather than a concrete figure. He adds the possibility that some of the amoraim were completely righteous while others were intermediates, but he does not decide.

Chatam Sofer, Pri Chadash, Adding to the Torah, and Lag BaOmer as Adding a Festival

The speaker brings a passage from the responsa of the Chatam Sofer in which the Chatam Sofer writes that he heard that “the generation has become fit,” and that from afar people come to Safed on Lag BaOmer for the celebration of Rashbi, may his memory be a blessing. He acknowledges that their intention is for the sake of Heaven and their reward is great, but says that he is “among the separatists” and did not want to associate himself with the custom. He explains that the Chatam Sofer cites the criticism of the Pri Chadash of communities that establish a “Jewish holiday on the day when a miracle was done for them,” and raises the question of adding to the Torah and the need for authority and for a determination that is not Torah-level. He emphasizes that the Chatam Sofer himself is willing to justify establishing a day of thanksgiving in a place where a miracle occurred by force of the Talmud’s a fortiori reasoning in tractate Megillah: “If from slavery to freedom we recite song, then from death to life all the more so.” But he argues that establishing a festival “on a day on which no miracle occurred and which is not mentioned in the Talmud and halakhic decisors,” like Lag BaOmer, is something he cannot understand, and he does not join it.

Hod within Hod, “A Religious Court All of Whose Members Convict,” and “Judgment within Judgment” as Hidden Kindness

The speaker cites in the name of the Chida, based on Mahari Yaavetz, that Lag BaOmer is “Hod within Hod,” and it is similar to “a religious court all of whose members convict, in which case the defendant is acquitted.” He adds that this logic should also have led to establishing joy on the “ninth day in the counting of the children of Israel,” except that this falls within the days of Nisan, when eulogies are omitted anyway. He interprets Hod within Hod as judgment within judgment, and argues that in the very place where one searches for the foundation of judgment itself, a point of kindness is revealed that does not need ordinary halakhic justification. He explains that a fortiori reasoning is “judgment,” and therefore festivals established by force of a fortiori reasoning are festivals of judgment. But on a day that is “judgment within judgment,” it becomes clear that judgment rests on a point of “just because” that cannot be logically justified, and therefore celebration becomes possible “without a reason,” revealing that kindness is present also at the foundation of judgment and not only beyond it.

A Logical Demonstration: You Cannot Justify the Rules of Inference from Within Inference Itself

The speaker demonstrates with a simple logical argument that if someone accepts the premises but asks, “Why is the logical rule correct?” there is no way to prove the process of proof without circularity or regress, and therefore “there is no answer” in the terms of understanding. He uses the example of adding the rule of inference itself as yet another premise, and then the need to justify that one as well, in order to show that “judgment within judgment is by definition kindness,” meaning a foundational point that is not explained by the rules of judgment but accepted as a given.

Purim, Breaking Rules, and Rabbinic-Level Forbidden Mixtures as an Example of Deviating from Judgment

The speaker argues that there are times in the calendar when “the rules are broken,” and gives as an example laws brought by halakhic decisors regarding unusual behaviors on Purim, including a description that people used to wear rabbinic-level forbidden mixtures on Purim. He connects this to the idea that “when wine enters, a secret comes out,” and to the pattern in which, in extreme states of judgment, a deviation appears that does not fit the ordinary rules, similar to the idea established by Mahari Yaavetz and the Chida regarding Lag BaOmer.

Rema of Fano: A Fortiori Reasoning, Keter, and Dayo as Genuine Learning from the Lenient to the Stringent

The speaker quotes from the Rema of Fano in “Maamar HaMiddot,” where he draws a parallel between the thirteen hermeneutic principles by which the Torah is expounded and the structure of the sefirot, and presents a fortiori reasoning as hinting to the supreme Keter “in its relation to the Cause of Causes.” He explains that Keter is “light” and “dark” in relation to its cause, and therefore the relation to the Cause of Causes is made by way of a fortiori reasoning. But he emphasizes that the learning depends on the rule “Dayo for what comes from a legal inference to be like that from which it is inferred,” which is learned from the law of Miriam: “And if her father had but spit in her face.” He understands from the Rema of Fano that Dayo is not a technical limitation but a principle that makes it possible to derive real content from the lenient to the stringent, and in that way create a correspondence between “the revealed and hidden reasons of the Torah,” so that “they may be aligned together on our lips.”

Last time I spoke a bit about—I’d like to finish up this whole issue of the hidden and the revealed, and Lag BaOmer. I talked a little about the relationship between the hidden and the revealed, if anyone sees parallel explanations, yes, and topological defects, everything I was trying to show—the meaning of that relationship, whether it’s a local relationship or a global relationship between the hidden and the revealed. After that I started to illustrate one of the fundamental distinctions in this whole world of the hidden, and that is the distinction between kindness and judgment. And I said there that in this context these concepts take on some meaning in the kabbalistic framework that is broader than the usual meaning we give these two concepts. We’re generally used to giving some meaning like: judgment is, so to speak, what Jewish law says, and kindness is doing good to another person, I don’t know, something like that. But in the kabbalistic world they see this as two psychological movements, or two fundamental movements in the world, in thought, everywhere. One of them is operating according to rules of cause and effect, or rules, or something that dictates exactly the path of development—deterministic, you could say—and that’s judgment. And kindness is action not according to rules, action against the rules or outside the rules—that is the action of kindness. I said that in parallel mystical traditions too you can see yin and yang and male and female and all those things, which are all basically parallel divisions. So I said these are spiritual intuitions that I think capture something real. Not necessarily that it came down from Sinai specifically, but there are people here who have spiritual intuition that grasps something worth listening to. Meaning, people who have some good spiritual intuition. And also—inside and outside the line of the law—that’s considered kindness too? What do you mean? If kindness is some kind of domain such that within it you’re beyond the letter of the law, and outside it you’re outside the line of law. Judgment is the domain. Yes. Ah, it’s like, say, when you act self-righteously. So I said—in the Talmud it says, what? You said that kindness isn’t necessarily good. Right, exactly. The Talmud speaks about kindness regarding sleeping with his sister, with an animal—I don’t remember which of the two. In the Talmud? In the Torah—what did I say? The Talmud. Ah, no no, in the Torah, yes. So there it’s explicitly not beneficence. Rather, kindness is some action that is simply unreasonable according to the normal forms of relation, according to ordinary human rules. I think that’s the meaning of the concept of kindness in this context. And indeed here it doesn’t necessarily point in a positive direction. When you deviate from the rule, when you do something unreasonable, illogical—that’s kindness, basically. Of course beneficence is also an example, but the point is precisely that these concepts undergo an expansion in kabbalistic terminology: beneficence is an example of kindness; it is not the definition of kindness. Because what is beneficence? Beneficence is giving something to someone when I don’t owe it to him. Meaning, unlike someone repaying a debt—that’s judgment. So that’s clear. But someone who gives charity or does kindness for someone else—there’s no law that obligates him. I said there is an obligation in terms of the commandment of charity, but the other person has no right to receive that money. That’s not Choshen Mishpat; that’s Yoreh De’ah. So in that case the giving is not required by the rules. Therefore it’s not judgment but kindness. Paying a debt is judgment, and giving charity is kindness. But from the kabbalistic point of view, those are only examples. They are not definitions. They are examples of two much more abstract processes: acting according to rules, and acting outside the rules. That, basically, is judgment and kindness. Now, this division is a division that appears on several levels. When we—I mean, maybe first I’ll just remind you of what I said last time. I said that pure judgment basically can’t endure. The Holy One, blessed be He, saw—He created the world with the attribute of judgment and saw that it could not stand, so He joined to it the attribute of mercy. Meaning, judgment alone cannot hold up. Meaning, something that can exist is only some kind of combination of kindness and judgment. And I said that kindness alone also can’t exist. Like in economic terms, say: communism cannot exist and capitalism cannot exist—where perhaps contrary to what people usually think, communism is judgment, not kindness. Capitalism is kindness. So the claim is that both of these really cannot exist; some kind of social democracy or some kind of combination of these two poles is necessary. Where exactly the line is drawn—fine, there are arguments about that. Some draw the line here or there, but there are arguments about that. But there has to be some combination of judgment and kindness for the whole thing to endure. That’s what I talked about last time. Now I want to continue. The claim is basically that this distinction between kindness and judgment exists on several planes in parallel, or on several levels. And in the usual kabbalistic description we speak of ten sefirot. We usually describe them one above the other: Keter, Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at—or Keter and Da’at, Chokhmah, Binah; depending on which of the two descriptions one chooses—Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet, Netzach, Hod, Yesod, and Kingship. Usually this is described as a line, but in truth there is an alternative description in the form of three lines: a right line, a left line, and a middle one. There is Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at—right, I’m starting from my right—Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at; Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet; Netzach, Hod, Yesod; and Kingship below. The middle line contains four, and the two side lines contain three and three. The right line is kindness and the left line is judgment. Now, where does this division show itself? In the world of thought—which is what’s in the head in the kabbalistic description—Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at. Meaning, Chokhmah is kindness, Binah is judgment, and Da’at is the combination of the two. Like kindness, judgment, and mercy—all these structures are kindness, judgment, and mercy. In the intellectual domain it’s Chokhmah and Binah combining into Da’at. In the emotional-character domain it’s Kindness and Gevurah combining into Tiferet. In the domain of physical movement or powers it’s Netzach and Hod combining into Yesod. And beneath that there is Kingship, which gathers them all. But this whole pattern, this tripartite pattern of right, left, and middle that exists on the intellectual plane, on the character plane, and on the physical plane, is basically the same logical structure: one of them is operating by rules—that’s judgment; kindness is what lies outside the rules on the right side; and the combination of the two is the middle. It’s just that here it’s in the intellectual realm, there in the character realm, and there in the practical realm. And therefore the distinction between kindness and judgment is perhaps the most fundamental distinction. What is the connection between Chokhmah and kindness? I’ll explain in a moment—that’s exactly what I mean to explain. What do these things actually mean? Maybe first I’ll just explain where this tripartite structure stands in the standard kabbalistic view—as the Leshem at least describes it. There are several layers in which one can see the unfolding of reality. It begins—at first the infinite light filled all of reality, that’s how the Etz Chaim of the Ari begins. Then the infinite light withdrew, creating a circular empty space in the middle of the infinite light, some circle in the middle was vacated, and into it a line entered from the infinite light from above down to below—but it did not reach all the way down; it does not touch. Because if it touched, it would nullify everything. In a moment I’ll explain why. It does not touch the bottom of the circle. It enters from above but does not touch the bottom of the circle. If you have infinite light covering everything and a circle in the middle, now a line enters into the circle, into the vacated space enters a line—a line of light. It enters, penetrates, penetrates, penetrates, but does not reach the other end, it doesn’t complete itself to the other side of the light, it doesn’t divide the circle into two parts. Because otherwise, as it says in the Ari, if it reached all the way then it would be nullified, meaning the whole contraction would be canceled. I’ll explain in a moment. And that is the first stage, which is called the world of line and contraction. There is the world of infinite light, and there is the world of line and contraction. Along this line the sefirot are arranged, all ten sefirot one above the other, and the form is that of a line. The third stage: around the line worlds begin to form one after another. The first world is Adam Kadmon, AK as it’s called—Adam Kadmon—which basically envelops this infinite light in a kind of shell arranged in a hierarchy of sefirot, meaning Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at; Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet; Netzach, Hod, Yesod, and Kingship. There the division begins. In the world of line and contraction there is not yet a division of the line into levels. In Adam Kadmon—that’s why it’s called Adam Kadmon—it’s the first time some form appears. But that form, says the Leshem, in that form there is already also the alternative arrangement of the sefirot, because the sefirot already move from potential to actual. And then it is basically divided into three lines because it is the form of a human being. A human being is three lines: there is the body and the two arms at the sides. So this is the right line, this is the left line, and this is the middle. Say this is Chokhmah. Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at; in the character traits it’s Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet; Netzach, Hod, Yesod—the reproductive organ—and Kingship; Kingship below, beneath the human body. So that is why it is also called the world of Adam Kadmon, because it is the earliest stage in which the human form appears. Therefore it is called the world of Adam Kadmon. After that there is Atzilut, Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah, where these are already structures of three lines and everything, everything as described below. Now, at each such stage, really—or at each such level of three sefirot—there is this structure of right, left, and middle. Kindness, Gevurah, and kindness and judgment, let’s call it that. Kindness is also the name of a sefirah and also the name of the whole right side. Okay? I think it is called that because in the Omer count we count the seven lower sefirot, which are seven times seven, so it’s Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet, Netzach, Hod, Yesod, and Kingship. Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at are not counted. And Kindness is the upper part of the right side, so the right side is named after kindness. Now, what is really the meaning of this structure? In the intellectual world, what are Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at? So Binah—our sages tell us—is to understand one thing מתוך another thing. That is why it is called Binah. You understand one thing from another thing. What does it mean to understand one thing from another thing? To make some logical inference. If you have a premise, you derive a conclusion from it. Mathematics, basically—or logic—that is Binah. That is why Binah is on the left side, because there are rules of inference. How do we work? How do we derive a conclusion? Right? Mathematics, which deals with the rules of thought—that is mathematics that tells us how to infer conclusions. The premises do not belong to mathematics; let your premises be whatever you want. Mathematics tells us what to do assuming those are your premises—what conclusions and how you can derive them. Okay? Therefore mathematics at base is empty, just as logic is basically empty. Because logic cannot tell me of any proposition whether it is true or false. Logic can tell me whether one proposition follows from other propositions or does not follow from them. Meaning, it deals only with a conditional relation between propositions; it does not deal with the truth or falsity of propositions in themselves. And in a certain sense this is only an empty structure. Therefore pure judgment is empty. It cannot teach us anything. I said that the world cannot stand on judgment alone. On the intellectual plane, the intellectual world cannot stand on pure judgment. Because pure judgment means accepting only things that are logically valid—what I called in my books analytic thought, meaning only things that are logically valid. Now when you accept only things that are logically valid, you accept nothing. Because something that is logically valid means that it is derived from fundamental premises by a logical argument. But where did you derive the premises from? If you derive them from other premises, then I’ll ask: where did you derive those other premises from? And in the end you’ll have to remain with some premises that are not the product of a logical argument. If you won’t accept them, then all the rest makes no difference. Meaning, in the end, if you work with judgment alone you are left with nothing. Meaning, if you work only with logic you remain a skeptic, empty of claims or content. That’s the meaning of saying judgment alone cannot stand. What is kindness? Kindness is basically what turns judgment into something. You can see this in two ways, both from below and from above, as you asked—both from inside and from outside. Kindness is both the basis of judgment and what fills judgment once it exists. Kindness—or Chokhmah, sorry, not kindness; I’m dealing now with the upper level—Chokhmah is the right side. Chokhmah, what the Ari writes, is koach mah, roughly speaking—things that are true in themselves, not from something else; that’s not Binah. You have Chokhmah that gives you the foundational points, the fundamental premises, and Binah derives conclusions from those premises—understanding one thing from another. Who gives you the fundamental premises? Chokhmah. Therefore Chokhmah is what fills Binah with content. Without it there is nothing at all. But on the other hand Chokhmah alone is of no use to us. Meaning, you can say, well, it seems this way to me, and to him it seems otherwise—there is no way to talk, no way to infer conclusions, no way to build a coherent picture. Meaning, Chokhmah alone also says nothing. You need some combination of Chokhmah and Binah, and that is what is called Da’at. Da’at is created when we have knowledge, some field of knowledge—when we have succeeded in defining in that field premises and rules of inference and consequently also conclusions. Then we have completed that field of information. For example, Tarski has a book in logic that ends with chapters, one of which gives an axiomatization of biology and in the second an axiomatization of physics, where he shows that biology and physics can basically be set up as an axiomatic structure. There are premises, there are rules of inference, and there are conclusions. Fine—for certain domains, not all biology and all physics; he is only trying to show the structure. And of course—of course then one can ask: so what then, are physics and biology not sciences? Are they logic? Are they only logic? That can’t be. Obviously not. After you understand from observation what the correct premises are, or what the correct laws of nature are, now you can formulate this as an axiomatic system. But where did you get the premises from? The premises you get—that is Chokhmah. It does not derive from anything: observation, inference, I don’t know, various insights, intuitions—exactly. But it is not something derived from something else. And therefore, in order for the structure of Da’at to have meaning, for it to tell me something, there must be some infrastructure of Chokhmah at the base. Then Binah can produce from that all kinds of things—like axioms in geometry. We posit axioms simply because they seem true to us. They are not derived from anything. Now when we begin to apply logical rules to the axioms, we can derive all kinds of theorems from them, and we’ll have a great deal of information. But the moment we decide that the axioms are arbitrary because they don’t emerge logically from anything, then they are arbitrary. The moment we decide that, we have nothing. Meaning, if we give up Chokhmah then nothing remains, because Binah is an empty structure. It’s if-then, but it doesn’t tell you anything. If this is true, then that is true; and if the opposite is true, then the opposite follows from it. Okay, but now the question is: what is true? Can I know something in that way? No, I can’t. I need Chokhmah and I need Binah. And the combination of these two is what is called Da’at. That’s in the intellectual realm. And Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet is in the realm of character traits. Meaning, Gevurah is basically restraint, or controlled action—yes, operating according to rules. “Who is mighty? One who conquers his inclination.” Meaning, you decide what you do and you don’t let the business just flow by itself. You’re calculating, exactly; you don’t let things—yes—it’s not the concept of might as in Hercules; it’s the concept of might as restraint. Which says that basically you act according to rules, you decide what you act upon. You don’t let reality carry you away. Okay, so that’s the—yet on the other hand it’s clear that if all you do is restrain yourself and you don’t have anything to restrain, then again there is nothing here. Meaning, you can say: I have an inclination to do this and I regulate it; I’ll do it but under these conditions or at this intensity—then yes. But first of all you need some engine, some initial drive. Then you can say, okay, I’m calculating, I regulate it, and I decide how and what to do and when. But if you don’t have the basic drive, what good is it that you’re calculating? Therefore kindness is the initial datum that starts the process. But kindness by itself cannot endure. You need to regulate it by means of judgment. And that is what creates Tiferet. Kindness—the combination of Kindness and Gevurah together—that is what creates Tiferet. I mentioned the two stories of Eliezer and Rebecca, and of Abraham with the angels and the tongues in mustard, as actions that are disproportionate. Rebecca, a three-year-old girl, drawing water for camels and all that—and Eliezer there, let him also carry the jug with all that water and give drink to the camels—a three-year-old girl, a crazy girl, says the midrash of our sages at least. And Abraham, slaughtering three calves in order to give three Arabs who came to visit him—the angels, whom he thought were Arabs—three tongues in mustard. Very nice, but you can also give them a chicken leg. You don’t have to give them tongues in mustard. And when there are no refrigerators, obviously the whole thing goes to waste—”do not waste,” it’s forbidden to do that. Not only is there no need, it is forbidden to do such a thing. Meaning, Abraham and Rebecca are not models for imitation. We’re not supposed to behave like that. Rather, these are models that show us what kindness is. Kindness is action without regulation by rules, meaning just doing what I—there, that’s it, with no level of being calculating and being controlled. But we are not required to be like that. In that sense these are theoretical texts such that it is not right to behave like them. They only mark out some pure pole that needs to be combined with Gevurah. And then together you arrive at a behavior that is Tiferet. The combination of lovingkindness with common sense—not going wild—that is what is called Tiferet, meaning the complete person. So Abraham and Rebecca in those stories are not models for imitation; it’s a mistake to see them that way. Still, you need kindness. What? Gevurah is enough. No, because as you heard before—what will you regulate? In what will you restrain yourself? You first need something to move you to action, a first engine without a prior cause. And then you say yes yes, but wait, there are reasons and constraints and rules that tell me, hold on, I’ll do it but within limits, at certain intensities, in certain directions. But if I don’t have the initial engine—if I’m only calculating—what comes of that? I’ll be calculating—no, I’ll be calculating and do nothing, just be a robot. Meaning I’ll do only what the circumstances dictate. Fine, you can manufacture robots. The assumption is that the Holy One, blessed be He, did not want us to conduct ourselves like robots. What does it mean to conquer the inclination—meaning that we need to have an inclination and need… Certainly, yes. Meaning, obviously. I think I once talked about this. I have a good secular friend who once told me he doesn’t understand your obsession, you religious people, with modesty. You’re only inflaming the inclination that way. Meaning, because you’re constantly dealing with it. Meaning it’s like that guy who runs away from honor, yes, and asks the Kotzker why honor isn’t chasing after him. So he tells him: because you’re looking backward. To make sure it’s chasing you—when you’re fleeing from it, you’re looking backward. Same thing here. Meaning, this excessive preoccupation with modesty inflames the impulses; it isn’t healthy. Meaning, there is something immodest in an excessive preoccupation with modesty. So he told me: forget it—what do you need all these obsessions for? On the contrary, the Scandinavian policy is the healthiest: do it freely and everything will be fine; no need to create all sorts of complications. I told him that even if he’s right—and I’m not sure he is right—even if he’s right, that’s not the goal. The goal of modesty is not to extinguish the inclination; the goal of modesty is to channel it. To control it, basically. Yes, exactly—to regulate it, control it, control it. Meaning, otherwise—the Talmud says that the Men of the Great Assembly abolished the inclination for sexual immorality, and then they couldn’t find a chicken egg anywhere in the Land of Israel. Because if there is no inclination, there is no creativity. Yes, even the same root, for those who like wordplay. Meaning, the claim is that some inclination is necessary to give you drive. That doesn’t mean you should act according to the inclination; you should regulate it—but you need it. Meaning, it’s the basic engine. Freud talks about this, yes—that libido, the sexual drive, is basically the basis of all our activities. And without it, nothing at all would happen in the world. Not only in the sense of reproduction, but also in the sense of artistic creation, scientific creation, everything. We know that people are driven by desires or needs that are not so theoretical. They want fame, they want honor, they want to appear smart—it doesn’t matter, everyone with his own desires—they want money, but that’s what produces things. Meaning, without that, nothing would be created here. Therefore the wisdom is not to extinguish these inclinations, but to use them constructively. Use them, but don’t let them take over. Meaning, moderate them. I once spoke about the fact that in Yerucham—Rabbi Steinsaltz once said, as it came to our knowledge, that in Yerucham it’s a yeshiva without an evil inclination. So Rabbi Blumentzweig was very insulted—the head of the yeshiva was very insulted—and I told him that I think Rabbi Steinsaltz read the map very accurately, in my opinion. There is something turned off in the whole business. Meaning there is no inclination, no evil inclination. Maybe that’s an aspiration to reach the level of kindness of Abraham and Rebecca, no? No, I don’t think so. Why not? Not at all, because that’s not the right thing, young man. But if I feel that it’s right for me and I think that I— If you feel it’s right for you, then you’re mistaken. It’s not right. It’s simply not right—not a question of right for you or not right for you. It’s not right, young man. No, a person is not supposed to do uncalculated kindness. No—we are not supposed to live that way. That’s my humble opinion anyway. At any rate, at a certain stage there, and I had been pushing for years to create a journal for articles called Meisharim, which eventually did come out, it took time because I felt the guys weren’t creating. In Gush already in second year there are guys writing articles—sometimes it’s a bit excessive—but in Yerucham, all in all, talented guys, it’s a yeshiva with a high-caliber population, and nothing. Meaning, nothing was being produced there by the students. There are three there, yes. Are they already grandchildren there now? Three. Wow. I still remember the son-in-law. Your son-in-law studied— What suddenly? Two of Meir’s and one— Two of Meir’s and the eldest of Shammai’s. Wow, Meir is local so it’s even more of a wonder that they stayed there. In any case, at a certain stage—fine, so I convinced Rabbi Blumentzweig and the yeshiva, and they decided to make the journal Meisharim. Nobody wrote articles. So I spoke with the fellow who worked with me there on the matter, the yeshiva student who worked with me on it. I asked him what the story was, why nobody was writing. So beyond the usual problems—yes, the regular creative blocks that always exist, it’s hard to begin something like that, to get it moving—there was a problem of modesty, he said. The guys feel that if I write an article they’ll say I’m some great luminary—I wrote an article. So they don’t feel it’s—it inflames the inclination too much. So I really got angry. And that’s what Rabbi Chaim felt… Yes, exactly. Although his perfectionism perhaps shows that maybe there was something like that in him. In any case, Rabbi Chaim hardly wrote anything. It’s all only things that were stolen from him. The books of novellae on Maimonides… Yes, only that. But his writings come out in various places. He himself didn’t publish them; his sons published the books of novellae on Maimonides, but he wrote them. I think Rabbi Chaim wrote his book on Maimonides and, if I remember correctly, it even came out in his lifetime—that’s what I think, though about this I’m no longer sure. In any event, no—there are all sorts of things, and there were thefts there and all kinds of arguments. The Briskers are perfectionists, so anything that wasn’t fully prepared for print they weren’t willing to let out; if it wasn’t perfect in their eyes then it was forbidden for it to come out. They are real perfectionists. In any case, I had a discussion there precisely on this issue. I told them: look, this inclination is going to kill you—your good inclination, your absence of inclination. You’re trying to extinguish the inclination instead of channeling it. Meaning, you’ll end up as nobodies—that’s what will come out of you. Meaning, in the end, if you produce nothing, you have no connection to the matter. We are built this way, it won’t help—you can’t change our nature. You need to take these inclinations, use them to create something, and try to regulate them so they don’t take over the whole map, or so you don’t do excessive things because of them. Try to control them, but let them advance you. “With all your heart”—with both your inclinations; “with all your might”—with both your inclinations. Okay, so let’s get back to our point. So in the end the claim is that both on the intellectual plane and on the character plane there is importance to the combination; neither side alone can endure. You need the basic engine that starts the matter, and you need the regulation that says when yes and when no. Without an engine you have regulation but nothing trying to move, so there is nothing. And if you have the engine and don’t regulate it, then again nothing good will come out—only catastrophes. If you take the engine and don’t extinguish it but channel it—that is the combination of kindness and judgment—then it can yield something both in the intellectual realm, in the character realm, and in the practical realm; everything works with the same logic. What about the righteous person in the Tanya, who supposedly killed the evil inclination, or slaughtered the evil inclination, something like that? Yes, I don’t know—you’d have to ask the author of the Tanya. It seems to me he understood a bit of Kabbalah; the author of the Tanya gets into Kabbalah there, doesn’t he? No, obviously he understood Kabbalah, but I don’t know, I have no idea. I don’t know if there is such a thing, because he speaks there about the Amoraim as beinonim. So if there were some completely righteous person like that, I have no idea—maybe there was someone like that and maybe not; maybe it’s just a theoretical type. In his eyes they were all the highest level of that generation. In his eyes, I guarantee you yes. No—and maybe some of the Amoraim were completely righteous and some were beinonim. Could be. Fine, let’s say maybe he is describing some typological figure, not really a concrete figure, only to show the idea or the map. I don’t know whether he is speaking about—I’m not sufficiently familiar with that issue either, but I don’t know. In any case, the claim is that basically there is some combination here between the right side and the left side, or between kindness and judgment, on all these planes: on the intellectual plane, on the character plane, and on the practical plane. And now what I want is to try to show two examples of this relationship between kindness and judgment on planes connected to Lag BaOmer—or one of them is connected to Lag BaOmer at least, and the second is not; the second is not connected to Lag BaOmer. Take the sources. Fine, I’ll begin with the responsa of the Chatam Sofer, famous passages. In truth it appears in two places in his responsa; I brought one of them, at least one of the two places. “Although I knew, for I heard that now the generation has become fit, and from afar they come to seek the Lord in the holy city of Safed on the day of Lag BaOmer, at the celebration of Rashbi, of blessed memory.” By the way, it seems to me this really was in Safed and not in Meron then; meaning, in the earliest incarnations it was in Safed, not in Meron. “And although all their intention is for the sake of Heaven, and their reward is certainly great, nevertheless for this very reason I was among those who separated themselves, like the members of my generation, so that I would not have to sit there and alter their custom in front of them, and so that I would not want to join them in this.” Meaning, he says: with all that, of course their reward is great and they have good intentions, everything is fine—I would not join this thing. Why? “For the Pri Chadash has already crowed greatly in Orach Chaim, section 496, in his pamphlet on prohibited customs, paragraph 14, about places that make a holiday on the day a miracle was done for them.” What does that mean? There is Purim Frankfurt, or Purim Casablanca, or all kinds of things like that. There are all kinds of such days where they celebrate a Purim because a miracle happened to the community on that day, and they establish some sort of holiday for generations, some kind of holiday for generations. And the Pri Chadash crows and crows—meaning, he criticizes this custom—because it is “do not add.” Why are you adding festivals that we were not commanded regarding? Again, if the Sanhedrin establishes it like Hanukkah and Purim, that’s something else. But if an unauthorized institution establishes it, then it is “do not add.” Why not? They are inventing a festival from their own hearts. He discusses this in a halakhic pamphlet in the Pri Chadash. He is speaking in Jewish law; he’s not speaking ideologically, about conceptual matters. As they understand it, does he understand “do not add” like the Kuzari perhaps explains? That’s a question. There is a dispute between Rashba and Maimonides in tractate Rosh Hashanah. There they discuss why we blow the shofar sitting and standing—to confuse the Satan. So Tosafot there already asks whether that is “do not add.” And there is a dispute there between Tosafot and Rashba about the answer. One of them says that a court is not subject to “do not add.” So it sounds like adding extra blasts counts as “do not add.” And it’s like saying adding another fringe to tzitzit or something like that. But there are positions that say that even if you add a commandment—say, some other additional commandment—that too is “do not add.” Okay? It isn’t clear; not according to all opinions is it so. Meaning, not to add. For example, from Maimonides it is fairly clear that this is so. He says there that every rabbinic enactment has to be announced as rabbinic, otherwise the court violates “do not add.” And that is certainly rabbinic. Here this holiday they make is certainly not a Torah obligation. What do you mean certainly? Of course it’s not a Torah obligation. The question is whether they make clear that it isn’t a Torah obligation. Every rabbinic enactment is obviously not a Torah obligation, but you have to make that clear. It’s not as though when they do Purim Frankfurt it’s a Torah obligation. It’s clear to you, but that’s exactly the concern Maimonides mentions—that the court’s role is to inform the public that it’s not Torah-level but rabbinic, and also only if an authorized court established it, in which case it’s valid. But if an unauthorized court or unauthorized person establishes it, then it’s “do not add” regardless, because he has no authority. It seems he didn’t present Maimonides. Maybe I didn’t understand, but at least from the midrash it seems to me there is a distinction between a court and not a court. No, that’s the dispute between Maimonides and Rashba. One of them says that with a court, “do not add” doesn’t apply at all—they’re exempt from “do not add.” And the other says no, even with a court it applies. And from Maimonides too it sounds like even with a court it applies; that’s why the court has to clarify, because otherwise what’s the problem? If the court did it then it isn’t “do not add.” Maimonides says no—if they don’t clarify, it will be “do not add.” So he too thinks that with a court, “do not add” applies. So the question is whether, according to him, without a court it would be “do not add” even when one doesn’t say it’s from the Torah. That depends on another dispute, the question whether adding a commandment is also “do not add.” Understand? The question is whether adding a commandment is “do not add,” or only adding a detail within an existing commandment. No, according to his view adding a commandment is also “do not add.” But if I’m not mistaken, I understood that according to Maimonides the problem in “do not add” is to claim that it’s from the Torah. If you claim—this I know only in Maimonides. Yes, according to Maimonides. No, I only brought Maimonides to show that “do not add” can apply to a court. Meaning, that he too thinks that even something a court does can involve “do not add,” in the dispute of Rashba and Tosafot. No, on the contrary, what I meant was: the statement that if one does it without a court then it is “do not add” even when one doesn’t say it’s from the Torah—that would only be according to the positions that disagree with Maimonides. Yes, could be. Fine. But simply speaking, adding a festival is “do not add.” Maimonides says perhaps that’s only if you don’t declare it as such. But simply speaking, if it’s unauthorized and you make this holiday, then it’s “do not add.” Yom HaAtzmaut? Yom HaAtzmaut? Same thing. So they say there is some law that if some miracle happens to all of the Jewish people then one does say Hallel, but then the question is whether it’s for all of the Jewish people or for every community. But never mind—for the overwhelming majority of halakhic decisors there is obviously no problem with Purim Frankfurt. The Pri Chadash challenged that matter. Is that connected to any holiday? With the joy itself, or if they decree work restrictions or things… No, so I don’t know; I’d have to see it there inside. It may be even the mere fixing of the day. Or perhaps they really said there should be cessation of labor. It could be that in those communities they also fixed a cessation of labor on that day; I don’t know exactly. In any case, it’s not a cessation of labor in the sense of the thirty-nine categories of forbidden labor, of course. It’s not opening shops or something like that. It’s not really the halakhic definition of a festival as we know it. And on Yom HaAtzmaut they also don’t open shops? What? Also on Yom HaAtzmaut they don’t open shops. Right, exactly. Obviously. It’s the same claim. But fine—at any rate the Chatam Sofer says: “As for what the Pri Chadash challenged regarding places that make a holiday on the day a miracle was done for them—” The Chatam Sofer continues—this is all somewhat skipping around—”in my humble opinion, for we say this from the following a fortiori argument: if from slavery to freedom we say song, then from death to life all the more so.” Yes, that’s the Talmud in tractate Megillah, which derives the obligation to say—well, to say Hallel on Purim—and it says it derives it by an a fortiori argument: if from slavery to freedom we say Hallel on Passover, then from death to life all the more so we should say Hallel. Fine? Now the Hallel on Passover—yes, “its reading is its Hallel.” We say Hallel; basically we read the Megillah, but the Talmud says “its reading is its Hallel,” meaning in principle this is—the Meiri even writes that someone who did not read the Megillah should say Hallel, because the Megillah there is in the category of Hallel. “But to establish a festival on a day on which no miracle was done, and which is not mentioned in the Talmud or the halakhic decisors anywhere, nor even by hint or allusion, save only the custom of refraining from eulogy and fasting—and I myself do not know the reason.” Meaning, taking this whole thing in a place where a miracle happened—where a miracle happened, and the court establishes it, then the place establishes for itself some holiday and it is not “do not add.” Why is it not “do not add”? Because we derive it from the a fortiori argument of the Talmud: if from slavery to freedom we say song, then from death to life all the more so. So it’s not “do not add” because it is included in this rule learned from the Talmud’s a fortiori argument. But in a place where that a fortiori argument doesn’t exist—meaning where no miracle took place and there is no reason to establish a special festival—there the Pri Chadash’s claim remains. So true, he himself doesn’t agree with the Pri Chadash regarding communities that make a holiday on the day a miracle happened to them. But in a place where no miracle happened, who would disagree with the Pri Chadash? It is certainly forbidden to do so. “And it was not mentioned in the Talmud or the halakhic decisors or anywhere at all,” some invention like Lag BaOmer. Therefore he says there is basically a case of “do not add” here. So yes, their intention is for the sake of Heaven, but I would not join, says the Chatam Sofer. “And in the prayer book of the Maharai Yaavetz it is written according to the hidden teaching”—not to mention several aspects of idolatry that appear there and all sorts of things like that—”and in the prayer book of the Maharai Yaavetz it is written according to the hidden teaching,” now this was written by the Chida, “that it is like a court all of whose members declare guilt, in which case he is found innocent; namely, Hod within Hod—see there. But according to this it would have been fitting to establish every good thing upon reaching Gevurot on the ninth day of the count of the children of Israel, except that in any event those are the days of Nisan, in which eulogies are not delivered.” So what is this Chida saying here? Let’s translate. “And in the prayer book of Maharai Yaavetz”—yes, the Yaavetz writes according to the hidden teaching; the Yaavetz, by the way, is the same one who criticized the Book of the Zohar, yet he also dealt extensively with Kabbalah—”that it is like a court all of whose members find guilt and he is therefore acquitted. Namely, Hod within Hod—see there.” What does “namely, Hod within Hod” mean? What is Hod within Hod? According to the context—ah, wait, Netzach, Hod—Hod is Gevurah, contraction. Hod is on the left side. Netzach, right, Hod is left. The side of contraction, as it were, judgment. The side of Gevurah, judgment. Meaning contraction within contraction then leads to—contraction of contraction leads to kindness, apparently, if one understands it. But how does that connect to us? And it’s the same principle that a court all of whose members are unanimous in guilt—but how does that connect to us? What does it have to do with Gevurah within Gevurah? How does this—he is talking about Lag BaOmer that we celebrate here. Lag BaOmer is Hod within Hod. Oh right, Lag BaOmer falls on Hod within Hod. That’s the counting, right. Now Hod within Hod is basically judgment within judgment, right? How many such days are there in the Omer count? Seven. Ah no, not seven, there are three. There are three entries into the matrix, not two. It’s a three-dimensional matrix. Because there is right, left, and middle. We said there are the seven lower sefirot in the Omer count; basically there are more, but two are primary. There are Kindness, Gevurah, Tiferet, Netzach, Hod, Yesod, and Kingship. So on each side there are two, because the upper three are not counted. Two, two, and in the middle—three in the middle. Right? Now who are the two on the left? The two of judgment. That’s Gevurah and Hod—the upper one and the second one, right? So if we want Gevurah within Gevurah, judgment within judgment, then it’s either Gevurah within Gevurah or Hod within Hod. In principle it could also be Hod within Gevurah and Gevurah within Hod. There are two more such days, but for some reason he assumes there are only two. Therefore he says Hod within Hod is Lag BaOmer, right? There are two days that are judgment within judgment: either Lag BaOmer, or who is the second? Come on, I said it. Gevurah within Gevurah, right. What number is that in the Omer count? The ninth, right? The second day of the second week. Gevurah is the second. Right? So let’s go back and read him. He says: “It is like a court all of whose members find guilt, and he is therefore acquitted; namely Hod within Hod.” Lag BaOmer is a day that is entirely—it is basically judgment within judgment, the essence of judgment, and therefore it is entirely acquittal, like a court all of whose members find guilt. I’ll explain this in a moment. “But according to this, it would have been fitting to establish every good thing when we reach Gevurot on the ninth day of the count of the children of Israel,” that is, when we reach Gevurah within Gevurah, right? Which is the ninth day of the Omer count. “Except that in any event those are the days of Nisan, in which no eulogies are delivered.” Yes? The ninth of the Omer—what is that? The twenty-fourth of Nisan, something like that. So the twenty-fourth of Nisan is during Nisan, when in any case no eulogies are given. So what are you going to establish there—a day on which no eulogies are given? A lamp in broad daylight—what good is it? You’re lighting a candle at noon. You want to forbid eulogies at a time when on all days eulogies are already forbidden. So you’re left with only one day, and that’s Lag BaOmer. Now what is the idea behind this? The idea—I’m saying it in kabbalistic language; I’m not now giving arguments for ordinary thought, but trying to show the mode of perception. The claim is basically that every festival we add is based on the Talmud’s a fortiori argument in Megillah, right? And what is an a fortiori argument called among our sages? Din—judgment. “But is it not logical?” right? “We do not derive punishments from logical inference.” An a fortiori argument is din. Okay? Meaning that every festival we establish has to be done according to din. By force of that a fortiori argument—from death to life—from slavery to freedom, then death to life all the more so. Okay? Therefore he says: if there are festivals for which a miracle occurred, then there is no problem—there is an a fortiori argument that justifies them. Therefore making a festival there has a basis according to din. It is a festival of din. So it’s legitimate. But if you add me a festival that has no basis in din—there is no din that can justify it—right? That’s judgment within judgment. And it is like a court all of whose members find guilt, and therefore he is acquitted. What does that mean? He says that judgment within judgment is basically kindness. Therefore, on an ordinary day when there is no din, it is forbidden to make a festival. But if there is a day that is judgment within judgment—one day in the whole count that is judgment within judgment—there one can make a festival even though there is no din obligating it. Because there something breaks through that is beyond din. What does that mean? I’ll illustrate with just some example—only for illustration. Suppose someone asks me—say I give him a logical argument. I say: if all shtenders are made of wood, this thing is a shtender, therefore this thing is made of wood. Fine? I proved to you that this thing is made of wood. He says: I accept the premises, but I don’t accept the conclusion. That’s what this person tells me. What can I do with such a person? Meaning, how can I nevertheless persuade him? So basically I tell him: there is a logical rule. If every X is Y and A is X, conclusion: A is Y. Right? He says yes yes, I accept that rule. But still I don’t understand why this shtender is made of wood. What do you mean you don’t understand? Because no—sorry—I don’t accept the rule; I’m asking why the rule is true. Who says this rule is true? Prove it. Can anyone prove that this rule is true? A proof relies, among other things, on that very rule. You can’t prove the process of proof. It doesn’t work. Right? That’s circular. In order to prove things you need to assume certain logical rules by which we construct proof. But if someone asks why the proof is valid, there is no answer to give him. That is judgment within judgment. And judgment is something that comes to explain a certain principle, a certain behavior, right? The a fortiori argument, for example. A fortiori means understanding one thing from another, yes? So that is basically the basic din. When you ask why din is valid, you’re basically looking for judgment within judgment. You’re asking: what is the explanation for explanations? Right? What is the principle that explains the principles of explanation themselves? There is no answer. The answer is: that’s just how it is. Why is it true? That’s how it is. What do you want me to explain to you? Judgment within judgment is kindness by definition. It’s something with no explanation. Meaning, if you want to understand the principles of explanation themselves, you won’t be able to understand that through Binah, through logic. Logic itself you will have to accept just like that, because it’s true—not because of some explanation. Therefore when you look for judgment within judgment, in the end you leave the domain of judgment. You’re left with kindness. And his claim is that—again, kabbalistically, without explanations of what it means and why it’s true, but on the level of kabbalistic terminology—if there is a day that is judgment within judgment, then one should celebrate without a reason. And that’s Lag BaOmer. Celebrate without a reason. Because judgment within judgment is what shows me that even at the foundation of judgment there stands kindness. Kindness is not only beyond judgment; it also lies at the foundation of judgment. On what basis is the logic of judgment itself founded? When I ask why judgment itself is valid—the answer is because of kindness. Just so. Not because of some principle that explains it, but that’s how it is. So kindness lies beyond judgment, but kindness is also the basis from which judgment draws its validity. Okay, when I—you know, I once saw in some logic book I read many, many years ago, by Avron Polakoff, some fellow from Ben-Gurion University—he gives there, say that you say, yes, as I said before, every X is Y, A is X, conclusion: A is Y. Then someone asks you: why? Why does the conclusion follow from the premises? You need to add—let’s call that rule itself A, okay? Basically modus ponens, but never mind, MP. So let’s call it MP, okay? And now I construct an argument with three premises: every X is Y, A is X, and MP. And now the conclusion is A is Y. Now that’s definitely correct. Then someone comes and says: not at all—show me now that this schema is valid. Ah, then you need an MP-prime. Meaning, now the rule that says that if there is MP plus those two, then—this appears in Gödel, Escher, Bach, doesn’t it? Yes? Could be, I don’t remember. Sounds like him. I don’t remember right now, but it sounds like him. In any event, this has no end. You will never find an explanation within din. Someone who doesn’t accept din, doesn’t accept it. You have no way to talk to him. I actually encounter this all the time, when people explain that there are things beyond logic and maybe logic is not correct. On the website this happens all the time. There is no way to explain to them the nonsense in what they are saying. What can you say? Will you prove it to them logically? They’ll say, yes, but we’re beyond logic. So what do you want me to do with that? Meaning, I don’t know what to do with such a thing. There is no way to explain it. There is no logical way to deal with logic itself. Therefore judgment within judgment is by definition kindness. Kindness is the fundamental thing, not judgment. Kindness is the fundamental thing; judgment can come only if you are prepared to accept kindness at a basic level. Therefore what he is saying here is that if every festival we establish is built according to the logic of an a fortiori argument, then in the place where I seek judgment within judgment, there I can make a festival even when there is no a fortiori argument. Even without din, because it is kindness. Judgment within judgment does not belong to judgment; it belongs to kindness. And in the end, why make a festival? In the end, why make a festival? You don’t need a reason. Because when you ask why, you’re looking for an explanation in din—that’s exactly the point. What’s the answer to why? Because there is such-and-such a reason, therefore we make a festival. No. That explanation is exactly an explanation of din. If you asked me, they are celebrating this very principle itself: the understanding that at the foundation of judgment stands kindness. That judgment too is not the whole picture. Judgment is some outer shell; behind it sits something more abstract, more infinite. So everything is founded on kindness? Yes, because without kindness there is no judgment either. Without judgment, kindness won’t endure, but without kindness there is no judgment. If you are unwilling to accept the answer “just because” regarding logical rules, you won’t be able to use logical rules. But the answer “just because” isn’t an explanation, as every parent tells his child, right? “Because” is not an answer. Meaning, it really isn’t an answer. There is no answer. And that’s exactly the point. So I think the point—yes, the festival of the hidden—why is it Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai? Because the hidden is exactly this point, the kindness hidden inside judgment. How do you reveal it? You don’t go beyond judgment; there’s no way around judgment. The only way to reveal it is to go with judgment itself all the way. Let me try—I want to show you that logic isn’t the whole picture. How can I show you that? With another argument? Not through logic? There’s no way to do that. What I can show you is that now I’ll ask you why logic is valid. What is judgment within judgment? You have no answer. So why do you accept logic? Because it’s obvious to you that it’s true. Ah, so you accept things simply because they are obviously true, not only because of logic. There is kindness. Or not kindness—there is Chokhmah, because we’re speaking now on the intellectual plane. Here is the way to reach Chokhmah. Our way of reaching Chokhmah is only through Binah. But how? If I apply Binah to itself, it vanishes. A court all of whose members find guilt is entirely guilty, and therefore he is acquitted. That’s basically his claim. Therefore I think the use of an a fortiori argument to found festivals is not accidental. A fortiori is what is called din. Therefore an a fortiori argument of an a fortiori argument—Lag BaOmer—so even though there is no basis of an a fortiori argument, you still make a festival there. And it’s not “do not add.” Because the rule of “do not add” is also din; it’s part of din. And there are situations in which—no—din disappears. Just as on Purim, as people sometimes say—not that people sometimes say, but the halakhic decisors bring it—that various laws are suspended on Purim. It’s unbelievable. There are responsa of Maharai Mintz and others that bring boys who caused damage in their running; there are explanations of this that maybe it’s because of damage in the course of a commandment. This appears elsewhere too, where people are exempt, like the Hanukkah lamp at the end of HaKones. But they had the custom to wear rabbinically forbidden mixtures on Purim, for example. Now when you read there it sounds not like they had a custom to permit it, but they had a custom to do it. Meaning, not that if someone did it they forgave him, but rather they had the custom to do it. They had a custom to do it, a custom to wear rabbinically forbidden mixtures. Yes, all festivals will be annulled except Purim; the books will be annulled, Jewish law will be annulled, Jewish law will be annulled in the future to come; commandments will be annulled in the future to come. So what is there in Purim? On Purim the rules break. “Wine entered, secret emerged.” It is judgment within judgment. And once the rules break, you do things not according to din. And there’s no problem, because when they tell you that according to din this is forbidden—it doesn’t matter. When we are in judgment within judgment, the rules are not there. The rules are the second stage; there is kindness that lies at the foundation of judgment. And there it reveals itself in those very, very specific places on the calendar. Yes, Purim and Lag BaOmer. A court all of whose members find guilt—no, I think here it’s only a linguistic borrowing. I don’t see that principle there. A court where everyone declares guilt and he is acquitted—I don’t think that’s because of this principle. I think it’s only a turn of phrase. A court all of whose members find guilt means if something is entirely judgment, because it’s a court, it’s judgment, yes. So if something is entirely guilty, as if something is all judgment, it cannot endure. Clearly the point of kindness peeks through there, because something that is all judgment does not exist. It evaporates, disappears. Okay. The non-deductive logic you spoke about—which is on the one hand logic, but not really logic—even there you can ask who says it’s true. Same thing. In that sense it’s a bit judgment. There is here a dimension of judgment. Maybe it isn’t completely judgment like ordinary logic, but still you can ask: who says this rule is true? Why don’t you see that as a combination of Chokhmah and Binah? I do see it that way. But even that combination isn’t pure Chokhmah. It is a combination of Chokhmah with Binah, and you can ask why it is true. And the answer will not be given in terms of Binah. Fine? The second passage, I’m really already getting close to the end. The second passage is from Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano. There it’s really an interesting passage, because he speaks directly about this very issue: why an a fortiori argument is called din, or rather—not why an a fortiori argument is called din—but he speaks about how an a fortiori argument, what the analogy is between an a fortiori argument and judgment, which is what I used also in the first passage. Now there it’s very interesting. You know, whenever I look at this passage of Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano, I’m reminded of the Passover Haggadah. At the end of the Haggadah in the song “Who Knows One,” it says “thirteen who knows,” right? What is “thirteen who knows”? The thirteen attributes of mercy? “The Lord, the Lord, compassionate and gracious.” Agreed? Or the thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded? Right—the thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded. And these are thirteen principles, right? So in the Brisker Haggadah, what do you think they explained? The thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded. In Hasidic Haggadot you will find the thirteen attributes of mercy. Meaning, the very expression in the language of the sages of Israel—it could be, it could be—but I like the Briskers. I’m a Brisker. Not a Brisker—I like the Briskers. So Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano solves the dilemma for us. He makes an analogy between the thirteen attributes of mercy and the thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded. In that analogy, the a fortiori argument, which is the first principle, parallels Keter, which is the first sefirah. He basically makes an analogy and says as follows: “A fortiori”—incidentally, in his Ma’amar HaMiddot he has a section that goes through the principles and explains them. And Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano was among the Ari’s students in Ashkenaz, in Europe. Before the Ari arrived here in the Middle East, he spent a certain period in Europe. The early reception of the Ari’s Kabbalah is learned from his European students, among them Rabbi Menachem Azariah of Fano. Rabbi Chaim Vital is already his Land-of-Israel Kabbalah, what Rabbi Chaim Vital wrote. “A fortiori hints to the supernal Keter in its relation to the Cause of causes, for Keter is light and dim in relation to its Cause; and nevertheless contemplation of it is forbidden, all the more so that which is above it.” Okay? “The Lord, the Lord, compassionate and gracious” is the first attribute in the thirteen attributes, and this is the supernal Keter, and it parallels the a fortiori argument, which is the first principle among the thirteen principles by which the Torah is expounded. Why? So he says as follows: the supernal Keter relates to the Cause of causes. What is the Cause of causes? Here we need another brief introduction. The sefirot are arranged in an order, one above the other. Keter is the highest part. Or the infinite light—some identify it with Keter—in the language of the worlds. Now the question is what the infinite light is. There are kabbalists who held that the infinite light is the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. And the contraction is the beginning of the formation of reality, reality outside the Holy One, blessed be He. But many kabbalists, the Leshem among them, protest against this conception and say that the Holy One, blessed be He, is outside the game. Meaning, even the infinite light is not the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. For example, the Raavad, in his commentary to Sefer Yetzirah, writes there at the beginning in his introduction that the infinite light is the will to reveal. It is not revelation, but rather the will to reveal; it is the potential of the sefirot which later move from potential to actual, but it is not the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. So here he says that the supernal Keter relates to the Cause of causes—the Cause of causes is the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. He too says that the supernal Keter is not the Holy One, blessed be He, but what is its relation to the Cause of causes? Through an a fortiori argument. Therefore there is an analogy between Keter and an a fortiori argument. How so? How does it relate? “For Keter is light and dim”—that is, it is darker, more material, more coarse in relation to its Cause, in relation to the Holy One, blessed be He. Then this basically means that our way of learning about the Holy One, blessed be He, is to make an a fortiori argument from what we grasp in Keter. If Keter, which is the lighter case, is so abstract and has certain properties or characteristics, then in the Cause of causes all the more so that this is the case. Fine? Then it comes out that the role of Keter is to serve as the lighter case in the a fortiori discussion from which we learn about the Cause of causes. Therefore there is a connection between Keter and an a fortiori argument. And now he says as follows: similarly you say, “If her father had but spit in her face, would she not be shamed seven days?” The Talmud says in the second chapter of Bava Kamma: one might have thought, all the more so with respect to the Divine Presence, fourteen days. If her father spitting in Miriam’s face would mean seven days, then the Divine Presence—which is greater than her father—would mean fourteen days. So he says: Scripture says, “She shall be shut out seven days.” So even when the Divine Presence spits in her face, she is shut out only seven days and no more. And from here we learn the principle of dayo—”it is enough.” Right? “It is enough for that which comes from logical inference to be like the source case”—we do not learn that the stricter case is more than the lighter case. We identify it with the lighter case. Okay? Now one might have said this is only a technical point. That basically the stricter case should really be more, but we can’t know how much more, so we stop at the lighter case. Then the big question is whether the lighter case really teaches us something about the stricter case, or whether it merely gives us certain bounds. Okay? And because we have no choice, we stop at the boundary. The point he wants to make, I think, is that Keter teaches us about the Holy One, blessed be He. Meaning, unlike the philosophers, say, who say that we speak of negative attributes in relation to the Holy One, blessed be He, the kabbalists speak of positive attributes. And their claim is: when we look at the sefirot, and especially at Keter, which is the highest sefirah, we can learn from it about the Holy One, blessed be He. “From my flesh I behold God.” How can you learn? After all, it’s only dayo. Because dayo is a real thing; it’s not a technical rule. Dayo says that what exists in the lighter case exists also in the stricter case. You can learn it about the stricter case. Maybe there are other things too, or perhaps in a more abstract form, but you can learn from the lighter to the stricter. Therefore you can say positive things, positive attributes, about the Holy One, blessed be He. Therefore the meaning of the a fortiori argument is completed only with dayo. Because without dayo, the a fortiori argument only gives you bounds. You can’t really learn from the lighter to the stricter; it only gives bounds. But if you say there is a principle of dayo, and his claim is that it’s a real principle, then “real principle” means that Keter really can teach me about the Cause of causes. Therefore the role of Keter exists only because there is an a fortiori argument with dayo. That’s the claim. And then he says and explains: “And the reason is that ‘her father’ is said of the supernal Chokhmah.” This is the sefirah of Chokhmah. In the Ari this is called Abba and Imma: Binah is mother, Chokhmah is father, and Da’at is the son, yes—that is Ze’ir Anpin. “For it is existence from non-existence.” The supernal Keter, from which Chokhmah is formed, is existence from non-existence. “And wisdom shall be found from nothing,” right? That’s what the verse says. “And wisdom shall be found from nothing” is not a question in the kabbalistic view; rather, Chokhmah will be found from the ayin. The ayin brings it forth. Because the ayin exists and is not non-existent. The ayin is Keter. It is so abstract that in our eyes it appears as nothing, but in fact Chokhmah comes from it. And Binah, incidentally, comes from Chokhmah, just as we discussed earlier—that when you ask why judgment is valid, ultimately the answer will be an answer of kindness. Meaning, judgment emerges from kindness. Judgment cannot stand on its own feet. “And Binah too is existence from existence.” What we discussed: understanding one thing from another, that is existence from existence. “The Torah says that with Miriam both were turned into greenness. And this is ‘had but spit in her face,’ meaning that her face turned green because of what happened to her. And the verse speaks of them: ‘would she not be shamed seven days,’ corresponding to the attributes beneath them, which are affected through them.” Beneath Keter, Chokhmah, Binah—there is no Da’at when one uses Keter, right? Keter, Chokhmah, Binah, and then the others. Or Chokhmah, Binah, Da’at and then the others. Either Da’at or Keter, depending on whether one looks at it this way or that. And when Keter, Chokhmah, Binah are the top three, what is beneath them? The seven lower ones, which we also count in the Omer. That’s what “seven days” refers to. Her father spit—that is Chokhmah—and consequently the seven lower sefirot are affected by them and turned green. “Thus, there is here no a fortiori argument except in appearance, according to the tangible plain meaning, and in order that the reasons of the Torah in the revealed and in the hidden be equal in their law, they are designated together by our lips. The halakhah came and fixed dayo, and all rabbinic matters are fitting.” Meaning, in short, the claim is that once you say dayo, then you can learn about the upper thing from the lower thing. Meaning, the rule of dayo is what enables you to realize the a fortiori argument as something positive, as something that can teach you about the stricter case from the lighter case. Because otherwise you could only say that the stricter case lies somewhere above that, but you couldn’t say anything about it. But when they say dayo, that basically means that you can learn something about the stricter case from the lighter case. Therefore he says, thus there is here no a fortiori argument except in appearance, according to the tangible plain meaning, and in order that the reasons of the Torah in the revealed and in the hidden be equal in their law, therefore we say dayo. Meaning, dayo basically brings you to the right result—that’s his claim. Okay, this is just to get a taste of this mode of thought or this mode of perception.