Kiddushin – In-Depth Lecture on the Sugya by Rabbi Dr. Michael Abraham – Steinsaltz Center Channel

Table of Contents

• The lecture framework and YaAL KGaM
• The four cases and narrowing it down to the third case
• The Talmudic passage on page 51 and the verses
• “You shall not take a woman together with her sister as a rival” and the principle of “anything that does not work one after the other does not work even simultaneously”
• Tosafot on those liable only for prohibitions and a new definition of “not fit for intercourse”
• The meaning of the concept: an act that connects versus an act that blocks
• Difficulties with cases two and three and with Abaye’s view
• Rabbi Shimon Shkop: this is not an ordinary doubt
• Ambiguity in halakhic reality and the parallel to quantum theory
• Parallel legal effects: a condition in a bill of divorce and married woman/divorced woman status
• Conclusion

Summary

General Overview

This lecture, within the YaAL KGaM series, deals with the rule of “betrothal that is not fit for intercourse,” where Jewish law is ruled in accordance with Abaye in his dispute with Rava. Abaye holds that such betrothal is valid even though it cannot be realized through intercourse, while Rava holds that it is not valid, and the Talmud links this to the verse, “When a man takes a woman and lives with her.” Over the course of the discussion it becomes clear that the dispute is narrowed mainly to the case of someone who betroths one of two sisters without specifying which one. Tosafot and the Rashba redefine the problem as a problem in the act of betrothal itself, when it creates a blockage instead of paving the way for married life. Later, Rabbi Shimon Shkop is brought in; he challenges the understanding of the case as an ordinary doubt and argues that the ambiguity lies in halakhic reality itself, and the speaker compares this to superposition in quantum theory and expands on a model of parallel “legal effects” also in the laws of conditions in bills of divorce.

The lecture framework and YaAL KGaM

The lecture was given as part of the YaAL KGaM series on the six laws in which the Talmud rules in accordance with Abaye in his disputes with Rava, contrary to the majority of their other disputes. The topic here is the letter kuf: betrothal not fit for intercourse, and here too there is a dispute between Abaye and Rava, with Jewish law following Abaye. The dispute was presented as a meeting point between the plane of prohibition and the plane of legal acquisition through betrothal: according to Rava, prohibition entails non-effectiveness, while according to Abaye, prohibition does not prevent effectiveness.

The four cases and narrowing it down to the third case

Four situations were presented: betrothal to a forbidden relative who is already prohibited to him, such as his wife’s sister after he has already married the sister; betrothing two sisters at the same time; betrothing one of two sisters without specifying which one; and betrothing a woman prohibited only by a negative commandment, such as a priest and a divorced woman. It was argued that the dispute between Abaye and Rava in practice concerns only the third case, while the other cases do not straightforwardly fit the definition of “betrothal not fit for intercourse,” even though at first glance all of them involve a barrier to intercourse. Later in the discussion it was acknowledged that the second case is indeed connected in the Talmudic discussion to the question of “fit for intercourse,” at least according to Rava.

The Talmudic passage on page 51 and the verses

On page 51 in tractate Kiddushin it says: “It was stated: betrothal not fit for intercourse—Abaye said it is valid betrothal; Rava said it is not valid betrothal.” Rava cites Bar Ahina, who derives from the verse “When a man takes a woman and lives with her” that betrothal fit for intercourse is valid betrothal, and betrothal not fit for intercourse is not valid betrothal. Later the Mishnah is brought: “If one betroths a woman and her daughter, or a woman and her sister, simultaneously, they are not betrothed,” and also the incident involving five women, among them two sisters, in which “the Sages said: the sisters are not betrothed,” and the source of that law is discussed.

“You shall not take a woman together with her sister as a rival” and the principle of “anything that does not work one after the other does not work even simultaneously”

Rami bar Hama connects the law of the Mishnah to the verse, “You shall not take a woman together with her sister as a rival,” and formulates it this way: at the moment they became rivals to one another, he should not have any act of taking even with one of them. Rava rejects the fit between the verse and the case in the Mishnah and argues that the verse deals with “one after the other,” meaning someone who married one and then tried to betroth her sister, and he grounds the law of the Mishnah in Rabbah’s statement: “Anything that does not work one after the other does not work even simultaneously.” The Talmud discusses whether Rava even needed this principle, and asks why he could not have explained the Mishnah on the basis of his own view that betrothal not fit for intercourse is not valid betrothal, and it answers that he said this “speaking according to Rami bar Hama’s view.”

Tosafot on those liable only for prohibitions and a new definition of “not fit for intercourse”

Tosafot (51a) raises a difficulty with Rashi’s explanation, which understands the derivation from “and lives with her” as a general requirement of suitability for intercourse, because “those prohibited only by negative commandments are not fit for intercourse, yet betrothal does take effect with them,” and the law is indeed that betrothal takes effect in such cases. Tosafot therefore redefines “betrothal not fit for intercourse” as a case in which “the prohibition of intercourse came about through the betrothal,” meaning that the betrothal itself created the prohibition, and he places this especially in the case of “where he betrothed one of the two sisters without specification,” where previously both were permitted and now, through the betrothal, both have become forbidden. Tosafot distinguishes the case of a priest and a divorced woman, because there “the prohibition of intercourse did not come through the betrothal,” but already existed even before the betrothal.

The meaning of the concept: an act that connects versus an act that blocks

It was explained that according to Tosafot and the Rashba, the problem is not the mere inability to realize the betrothal, but a flaw in the act of betrothal when it operates in the opposite way from its role. Proper betrothal is meant to permit the woman to the husband and pave the way for married life, and if the betrothal itself creates the blockage, then “it cannot be that this is a proper act of betrothal.” An analogy was brought from divorce with a condition that prevents severance, such as “on condition that you be forbidden to the whole world,” or a continuing condition that leaves an ongoing bond, in which case “there is no severance in it,” and therefore it is not a valid bill of divorce.

Difficulties with cases two and three and with Abaye’s view

A question was raised as to why betrothing one of two sisters without specifying which one is considered betrothal not fit for intercourse according to this substantive definition, since in principle the woman who is actually betrothed is herself permitted, and the problem seems to be only lack of knowledge. Another question was raised: if betrothing two sisters simultaneously was defined in the Talmud as connected to “not fit for intercourse,” then Abaye, who validates such betrothal, ought also to validate the betrothal in the Mishnah, whereas the Mishnah invalidates it unequivocally. The Rashba asks against Abaye that if “betrothal not fit for intercourse” is valid betrothal, then betrothing two sisters should have taken effect, and it was also said that even in Rava’s opinion there is some distinction between the straightforward case of the Mishnah and the case of “one of two sisters.”

Rabbi Shimon Shkop: this is not an ordinary doubt

Rabbi Shimon Shkop, in Shaarei Yosher, raises an inquiry into how the legal effect takes hold when someone betroths one of five women without clarifying who is to be designated for the betrothal, and he asks, “For what reason and cause would Heaven single out one particular woman to be the one betrothed?” He determines that here it is impossible to say that if Elijah were to come, he would reveal who is betrothed, because in “the true reality no particular woman was designated for betrothal.” He explains that the statement that each one is forbidden “because of doubt” is not like an ordinary doubt that stems from lack of knowledge about an existing truth; rather, the prohibition arises “because of the act and not because we are in doubt,” because the act creates a legal effect that is not singled out to a defined woman.

Ambiguity in halakhic reality and the parallel to quantum theory

It was argued that the case creates an ambiguity that is not in the person but in reality itself. Therefore this is not “doubt” in the sense of lack of knowledge, but a state in which two possibilities stand together. A comparison was brought from quantum theory and the idea of superposition, where the ambiguity is attributed to reality rather than to the observer, and it was emphasized that in the legal world it is easier to understand the creation of this kind of ambiguity through a halakhic act. A reading was proposed according to which chapter 22 of section 3 of Shaarei Yosher, understood on the basis of principles of quantum logic, resolves various difficulties, although it was said that Rabbi Shimon Shkop himself “does not quite succeed in escaping the language of doubt.”

Parallel legal effects: a condition in a bill of divorce and married woman/divorced woman status

An example was brought from Kuntres HaTna’im at the end of Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s novellae to Gittin, about a bill of divorce given on condition that she not drink wine for ten years, as a possibility that the woman is “both divorced and not divorced” until the matter is clarified, together with the idea that “it will become clarified retroactively.” An intuitive difficulty was explained in saying that a woman is both a married woman and a divorced woman, and the response was that the contradiction exists when one thinks in terms of status as a single property, but not when one thinks in terms of two “legal effects” resting upon her as two separate entities, like “salt and sugar.” It was said that the normative questions are decided stringently, because the mere existence of a prohibiting legal effect is enough to create prohibition, and that this resembles the laws of doubts but is not identical to them, including the claim that even in rabbinic matters the principle “in a rabbinic doubt one may be lenient” would not help, because this is not a doubt but two existing legal effects.

Conclusion

The summary concluded by presenting the case of betrothing one of two women as a halakhic “quantum doubt” created by the act itself, and with the claim that the legal parallel gives a clear intuition for a state of ambiguity in reality. The remarks ended with thanks to the audience.

All right, let’s begin. Is this thing working? Yes. Okay. It usually swivels around, so if when I turn you can’t hear me, then I’ll have to stay attached after all to this instrument of destruction. So just let me know. Okay. This lecture is part of the YaAL KeGaM series. These are six halakhic rulings where the Talmud says that Jewish law follows Abaye in his dispute with Rava, contrary to most of their other disputes. Now we’re at the letter kuf. Kuf stands for kiddushin she’einan mesurin le-bi’ah, betrothal that is not fit for sexual relations. Here too there’s a dispute between Abaye and Rava, and here too the ruling follows Abaye.

Now, I don’t know exactly how continuous attendance has been, who was here for the previous lectures and who wasn’t, so I’ll briefly summarize what comes out of the passage, just so we can build on it. Basically, the focal point of the passage is a dispute between amoraim on page 51 in tractate Kiddushin. The Talmud says like this: “It was stated: betrothal that is not fit for sexual relations—Abaye said it is valid betrothal, Rava said it is not valid betrothal.” So there’s a dispute about what happens with kiddushin where you can’t realize their physical dimension. Usually—well, not usually, always—it’s because of a prohibition, and the question is whether in such a case the kiddushin take effect.

Do they also film this? Wow, so you’ve really trapped me. Fine. There’s actually a certain connection between two different planes. One plane is the plane of prohibition, and the second plane is the plane of whether the kiddushin take hold. And the Talmud is basically bringing a dispute here as to whether there’s a connection between those two planes. According to Rava, if there is a prohibition, then there also won’t be valid kiddushin. And according to Abaye, even though there is a prohibition—he doesn’t dispute the prohibition—but nevertheless that does not interfere with the kiddushin taking hold. Meaning, if a man betroths a woman who is not fit for sexual relations with him, the kiddushin are valid according to Abaye, and as I said earlier, the Jewish law follows Abaye.

From this simple formulation, it would seem that the dispute is some very broad, principled dispute: any kiddushin that cannot be realized—or whose physical side cannot be realized—are not kiddushin according to Rava, and are kiddushin according to Abaye. But when you look a little more closely at the passage, you see that this very, very general formulation ultimately shrinks down to one esoteric case. That’s it. In other words, all the other cases, at least on the face of it, aren’t connected to this dispute at all.

So when I speak about all the other cases, I may as well present them already, because we’ll move among them a bit later. There are basically four cases worth keeping in mind, four different types. The first case is one where a man betrothed a woman—let’s call them Rachel and Leah for the sake of discussion, the two sisters. A man betroths Rachel, and Rachel is his wife. After that he comes and betroths Leah, her sister. The kiddushin do not take effect. They do not take effect because she is forbidden to him as his wife’s sister. A wife’s sister is forbidden to him as an ervah, a forbidden sexual relation, and the kiddushin do not take effect. That’s the first case.

This case is entirely parallel to just anyone who betroths a woman forbidden to him as an ervah. For example, someone who goes and tries to betroth his sister or his mother. It’s the same thing. In practice there’s no difference. His wife’s sister, his own sister, his mother—all these are forbidden relations, and for our purposes the first case is someone who comes and betroths a woman forbidden to him as an ervah.

The second case is where a man comes and betroths two women at once. Rachel and Leah, both daughters of someone—their father, yes—and a man comes, gives the kiddushin money to their father, and betroths both of them together. That’s the second case. There is some problem here in that he is married to two sisters. Really this is also a case of a wife’s sister, but the situation is different. In the previous case, it was simply someone coming and betrothing someone forbidden to him. In this situation, neither one has yet become forbidden to him. The two of them are now becoming somehow… the kiddushin as… there’s some internal contradiction within the act of kiddushin, because one is the sister of the other. So if one is betrothed, the other is forbidden to him, and vice versa. That’s the second case.

The third case is even more amusing. A man once again goes to the same father, for the sake of discussion, who has two daughters, Rachel and Leah, and he gives him kiddushin money and says: I am betrothing one of them. One of them. Which one? Doesn’t matter—what difference does it make? One of them. They’re wonderful, both of them are attractive to me, but I don’t have enough money to support two wives; one is enough for me. I want one. So he betroths one woman but does not specify which. That’s the third case.

In that case, as the Talmud explains—and I’ll get to that in a moment—Abaye and Rava disagree. This is what is called “betrothal not fit for sexual relations.” The fourth case, which I’ll deal with less, but I’m mentioning for completeness, is a situation where a man betroths a woman who is forbidden to him not as an ervah but by a lighter prohibition, a simple prohibition. For example, a kohen who comes and betroths a divorcee. So a divorcee is not an ervah to a kohen; she is only forbidden by a simple prohibition. In such a case too, one might have said that when he gives kiddushin to the woman, she is in fact not fit for sexual relations with him, he cannot realize the kiddushin because there is a prohibition, and therefore it would also make sense to connect this to the topic of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. That’s the fourth case.

All right, so once again I’ll mention the four cases, because it’s important to me that this be in your heads. The first case is when a man betroths a woman who is forbidden to him as an ervah. For example, if her sister is already married to him and now he comes and betroths the second sister, or if he betroths his own sister, his mother, or whoever it may be. That’s the first case. The second case is when a man betroths two sisters at once, or a woman and her daughter—I’m not going into all the examples now, let’s take one representative example—and betroths two sisters at once. The third case is when he betroths one of the two sisters without specifying which one. The fourth case is when he betroths someone forbidden to him, but by a simple prohibition, not as an ervah.

So as I said before, what emerges from the Talmud is that the dispute between Abaye and Rava deals only with the third case. The other cases are not connected to the topic of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations, even though it’s not really clear why not. Why not? “Kiddushin not fit for sexual relations” is when I betroth a woman and there is a prohibition against having sexual relations with her. So why don’t all four of these cases fall under that category? Why only the third? So that’s the overall picture, with a question mark at the end.

A few more details from the Talmud that will help us later. As I said, on page 51 the Talmud brings the dispute between Abaye and Rava regarding kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Right afterward, the Talmud discusses the question of where this comes from: why really, according to Rava, are kiddushin not fit for sexual relations not valid kiddushin? Abaye disagrees, but according to Rava they are not. Rava said: Bar Ahina explained it to me. “When a man takes a woman and has relations with her”—valid kiddushin are kiddushin fit for sexual relations; kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are not valid kiddushin. In other words, we’re dealing with the verse “when a man takes a woman and has relations with her.” They derive from here that kiddushin must be of the kind that can continue into an act of intercourse, sexual relations. If they cannot continue into sexual relations, then he did not truly “take” her, and the kiddushin are not kiddushin.

Then the Talmud brings the Mishnah. The Mishnah is on the previous page, and two cases appear there. I won’t now go into the details of the Mishnah. One case, the opening clause—it’s a Mishnah on page 50a—the Mishnah says: “One who betroths a woman and her daughter, or a woman and her sister, at the same time—they are not betrothed.” Someone betroths two women at once—they are not betrothed. As a reminder, this is our case number two. Someone betrothed two women at once. How many perutot did he give there? It doesn’t say here. Simply speaking, it seems he should have to give two perutot, but it doesn’t say.

“And there was an incident involving five women, among them two sisters, and one man gathered a basket of figs—and they belonged to the women, and they were produce of the Sabbatical year.” All those details we won’t deal with. “And he said: Behold, all of you are betrothed to me with this basket, and one of them accepted it on behalf of all of them. The sages said: the sisters are not betrothed.” Seemingly this is the same case. He also tried to betroth two out of five. About the other three there is a dispute among the medieval authorities (Rishonim) what their status is; but these two are not betrothed.

And the Torah forbids it! I can’t hear. In all 28 cases where it’s forbidden, or what? What? Two sisters? Yes. Right, and that’s why they are not betrothed. The Torah says so explicitly. Okay. In a moment we’ll see that it’s not quite that precise, but at least right now there’s no problem, because the Mishnah does indeed say that they are not betrothed.

So the Talmud asks: From where are these words derived? How do we know that two sisters are not betrothed? What is the source of the law? Rami bar Hama said that the verse says: “A woman in addition to her sister you shall not take, to make them rivals.” The Torah said: at the moment they become rivals to each other, he may have no “taking,” meaning no kiddushin, even with one of them. This is derived from a verse. When they become rivals to one another—that is, of course, two sisters—then there is no “taking,” meaning the kiddushin do not take effect with either one of them.

Rava said to him: If so, then this is why it is written, “And the persons who do so shall be cut off from among their people”—never mind that for now, that belongs to another interesting topic. Rather, said Rava, the verse refers to “one after another,” and the Mishnah accords with Rabbah. The verse that says “a woman in addition to her sister you shall not take, to make them rivals” deals with the first of the four cases I mentioned earlier: when someone betrothed one woman and she is his wife, and afterward he comes and betroths her sister so that she will become a rival to the first sister who is his wife. There, the kiddushin do not take effect. So that is learned from the verse.

But where does the law come from in the case of taking two women, two sisters, at once? And here we see that this is not explicitly written in the verse. What the verse says is only when I betroth one and afterward betroth the sister, and then the sister is already forbidden to me, so the kiddushin do not take effect. But here I’m speaking of betrothing both at once. To that, Rava says: this is not learned from the verse. So from where does it come? Rather, said Rava—the verse refers to one after another, and the Mishnah follows Rabbah, for Rabbah said: anything that cannot take effect one after another cannot take effect even simultaneously.

There is such a principle in the Talmud: anything that cannot be done one after another cannot be done even at the same time. What does that mean? If there are two actions that I cannot do sequentially, then even if I try to get around the problem by doing them simultaneously, it still won’t work. Whatever doesn’t work one after another also doesn’t work simultaneously. So if I cannot betroth two sisters sequentially—first the first one and then the second—then I also cannot do it simultaneously. But that is basically what the verse says: do not take her. So what do you mean? The principle that anything that cannot be done sequentially also cannot be done simultaneously is a principle, an internal logic. If that’s an internal logic embedded in the prohibition against taking one woman and then taking her sister, then it is automatically also embedded in the prohibition against taking both at once. One can debate that—I’m not sure of it at all—especially since the principle that anything that cannot be done sequentially cannot be done simultaneously is not universally accepted. So presumably it is not just a logical necessity. If it were pure logic, you couldn’t really argue with logic. But in any case, for our purposes I don’t care in the end whether this goes back to the verse or not. What Rava says is that the law of the Mishnah—that one cannot betroth two sisters at once, not sequentially and not simultaneously—essentially comes from the principle that whatever cannot be done one after another cannot be done even at once. That is the principle.

Later the Talmud discusses this question: is this principle really correct, that when we align the two acts and do them together they still cannot be done? Abaye challenges Rava, rejects his words, and so on. In the end, the Talmud says: Why did Rava need to explain it in accordance with Rabbah? Rava explained the law of the Mishnah, about betrothing two sisters, on the basis of Rabbah’s principle—Rabbah with an h. Rabbah’s principle says that whatever cannot be done one after another cannot be done even simultaneously. The Talmud asks: Why did Rava need that argument? He could understand the Mishnah even without it. How? Because what does Rava himself hold? Let it simply emerge from the fact that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are invalid. After all, betrothing two sisters is kiddushin that cannot be realized; it is not fit for sexual relations. And Rava’s own view—that’s why I put this Talmudic source first even though it comes later—is that such kiddushin are not kiddushin. So in order to explain the law of the Mishnah, that when one betroths two sisters the kiddushin do not take effect, he does not need to invoke the principle that whatever cannot be done sequentially cannot be done simultaneously. It is enough for him to say that this is not fit for sexual relations; and since it is not fit for sexual relations, the kiddushin do not take effect.

Then the Talmud says: He stated it according to the view of Rami bar Hama. In other words, he says it according to another amora’s position; he himself does not really need it.

What does that actually mean for us? It means there is a certain qualification to what I said earlier in my opening summary. I said there are four cases. The first case is betrothing one woman and then betrothing her sister. There the kiddushin do not take effect according to everyone; no one gives the impression that this is tied to the question of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. The second case… the second case is the case of betrothing the two sisters simultaneously. That is the case in the Mishnah. I said that, simply speaking, this too is not linked to kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Here in the Talmud we see that this is not entirely precise. At least Rava does link it. In fact, Rava explains that law on the basis of the principle of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. As for Abaye, there is room to discuss it. The third case, according to everyone, is the case on which Abaye and Rava disagree: the case where he betroths one of the two sisters.

What about the fourth case? The fourth case—where a man betroths a woman forbidden to him by a simple prohibition, not by karet, not as an ervah—is discussed by Tosafot. Tosafot there, on 51a, says as follows: “Betrothal that is not fit for sexual relations—Rava said it is not valid kiddushin.” Rashi explains: because it says “and has relations with her,” we require that they be fit for intercourse. That is, Tosafot brings Rashi’s explanation that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations is learned from the verse “and has relations with her.” What does it mean, basically, if we derive it from the verse? That whenever it is impossible—or prohibited—to physically realize the kiddushin, then the kiddushin do not take effect.

Tosafot says: If that really is the explanation, then this is difficult. Those forbidden by simple prohibitions are not fit for intercourse, yet kiddushin does take effect with them. After all, a simple prohibition—like a kohen who betroths a divorcee—is only a simple prohibition. The kiddushin do take effect. There is a tannaitic dispute at the end of tractate Yevamot, but the Jewish law is that kiddushin takes effect with those forbidden by simple prohibitions. Once kiddushin does take effect in such cases, the obvious question arises: how does Rava deal with that? Rava does not disagree with it. It is a tannaitic dispute and that is how the law is ruled. No one hangs that on the dispute between Abaye and Rava. But Rava should have said that such kiddushin do not take effect, because after all these are kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. To have intercourse afterward would involve a prohibition. So why does Rava also agree that these kiddushin do take effect? They are not fit for sexual relations. That is Tosafot’s difficulty on Rashi.

And how does Tosafot answer? He gives a very interesting answer: “Therefore it seems proper to explain: kiddushin not fit for sexual relations means that the prohibition on sexual relations comes about through the kiddushin. And that is where he betrothed one of two sisters without specification, where before the kiddushin each one of them was permitted, and now by means of the kiddushin both have become prohibited. But in the case of those forbidden by simple prohibitions, the prohibition on sexual relations did not come about through the kiddushin, since even before the kiddushin they were just as prohibited with respect to intercourse as they are after the kiddushin.”

Tosafot gives a very interesting interpretation here. When a kohen gives a ring to a divorcee and wants to betroth her, what made her forbidden to him was not the act of kiddushin. She was already forbidden to him beforehand. In such a case, says Tosafot, no—that is not the case of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. That is not what the passage is talking about. That is called kiddushin fit for sexual relations. Kiddushin not fit for sexual relations is only what I earlier called case three: when a person comes and betroths one of the two sisters. That is a case of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Why? Because here, before the kiddushin, there was no problem. He could have betrothed either one of them. This is not like a kohen and a divorcee. Only because of the act of kiddushin is there now a problem. He cannot realize the kiddushin; they are not fit for sexual relations. When the act of kiddushin itself creates the problem, then the dispute between Abaye and Rava arises. That is the case of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations.

I think we should stop for a moment and think what Tosafot’s words actually mean. In the straightforward reading, how do we understand this? We understand that kiddushin are supposed to be realized also in their physical dimension. And if that cannot happen, then it means the kiddushin did not take effect, because they cannot be realized. Here the problem is slightly different. On the conceptual level—after all, there is one woman who is betrothed, and I just don’t know which one she is. Fine? That woman in practice can indeed have sexual relations with him. I just don’t know which of the two is the betrothed woman, right? So in fact, what created the prohibition here was not the act of kiddushin—it was not the act of kiddushin—but my lack of knowledge. When I betrothed, I betrothed one woman. That woman is certainly permitted to me; her sister is forbidden to me. Except that since I did not specify which woman, it somehow turns out that because of my uncertainty I cannot have sexual relations with either of them. This is not exactly a case where the act of kiddushin created a prohibition. The act of kiddushin did not create a prohibition. I betrothed a woman; that woman is permitted to me. The whole problem is that a tangle has been created here because I don’t know which of the two women is betrothed.

What happens when he betroths two women at once—case number two, the case of the Mishnah? What happens there? When he betroths two women at once, what do you say—does that belong under kiddushin not fit for sexual relations? There it’s clear that the problem is in the kiddushin themselves, and it’s not because of uncertainty. Why? Because the act itself is the problematic act. But I’m not sure, because all he really did was two acts of kiddushin at the same time. The act of kiddushin with Rachel forbade Leah to him, but not Rachel. Rachel it permitted. The act of kiddushin with Leah forbade Rachel to him, but Leah it permitted. The fact that he did both at once created a knot. But each act of kiddushin by itself created no prohibition here. So the question is whether we look at the kiddushin as two individual acts or as one act. Right?

And in fact in the Talmud—after all, not fit for sexual relations. What? I can’t hear. If it’s kiddushin to two women at once, then it’s not fit for sexual relations? The question is whether that is one act or two acts. Did I give two perutot and perform two acts of kiddushin, or is this one act? Here maybe we can understand the Talmud’s dilemma. At first the Talmud thought that the case in the Mishnah was not connected to the law of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. And then we needed the principle that whatever cannot be done one after another cannot be done simultaneously. Then the Talmud says: why? But this actually is connected to kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. And then it says: true. Because in fact there’s some shift here in perspective, between viewing the kiddushin as two acts of kiddushin carried out simultaneously on two women, and viewing them as one act that betroths two women. It’s a bit strange how that happens. I assume you would still need two perutot here, but there is one act of kiddushin that betroths two women, and maybe that is how one can view the act as an act that forbids the women to him.

But what exactly is Tosafot saying in terms of the idea of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations? Tosafot says that in cases of simple prohibitions, for example, this won’t apply. Those cases have nothing to do with kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Even Rava agrees that if a kohen betroths a divorcee, she is his wife. Why? But this too is kiddushin that cannot be realized through intercourse. Tosafot says: so what? That is not the definition of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. That is not the definition. Tosafot completely changes the way we understand kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. If we understand that any kiddushin that cannot be realized counts as kiddushin not fit for sexual relations, then all four cases fall under that category. All four. Tosafot excludes case number four. Earlier I said case number one is definitely out; no one even asks about it. Why are they really out? After all, that too is kiddushin that cannot be realized. When I betroth a woman and then I betroth her sister—the first case, yes, I betrothed one woman, she is my wife, and now I betroth her sister. The second kiddushin cannot be realized. Why is that not under the category of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations? That too is kiddushin that cannot be realized. Or in the case of a simple prohibition. The procedure was valid, and one after another, the kiddushin themselves, the process itself, created the prohibition, and then there is also something in the kiddushin themselves. Meaning no. The problem came about as a result of the… it did not come about as a result of the procedure. And that is what Tosafot says.

In other words, in the case of a kohen who betroths a divorcee, the prohibition of the divorcee to the kohen has nothing to do with whether he betrothed her or not. She was forbidden to him from the moment she was divorced. Right? So the act of kiddushin did not create the problematic aspect between them. That is not called kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Only kiddushin where the act of kiddushin itself creates the problem are called kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. How can we understand this idea? What is the significance of this idea?

In the case of the kohen, the problem is that according to Jewish law she is forbidden; a kohen may not take a divorcee. Okay. The kiddushin themselves don’t add or subtract anything, this… Of course. I’m only asking: why does that matter? Why does it matter that the kiddushin don’t add or subtract anything? The simple idea—this is usually how people understand it—kiddushin not fit for sexual relations means kiddushin that cannot be realized. That’s all. But in all these cases the kiddushin cannot be realized. Why, for Tosafot, is it important that the act of kiddushin is what creates the problem, and only then does Rava say it is not kiddushin? Otherwise, it is not our issue at all.

Even in the case of two women, two sisters, the first case is… The first case does not belong to kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Those are valid kiddushin. No, they are not valid; they are invalid kiddushin independently of your view about kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. The kiddushin there do not take effect independently of this dispute. Her sister—then it is completely invalid. Yes. So why? I think, or at least it seems to me, that what Tosafot means to say is really to change entirely the concept of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. Tosafot means to say that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations—the problem according to Rava, the fact that there is a problem—the problem is not the fact that the kiddushin cannot be realized. The problem is in the act of kiddushin itself. The role of kiddushin is to permit the woman to the husband. If the kiddushin produce the opposite result, that is not a good act of kiddushin. Proper kiddushin are kiddushin whose purpose is to pave the way for marital relations. If the kiddushin themselves block the way, then that cannot be a proper act of kiddushin. Okay? That is what Tosafot is saying.

As an example, I’ll give a case that I think is quite similar, even though I haven’t seen anyone mention it in this context. We know of an explicit principle in the Talmud regarding divorce. When a man divorces a woman, fine, but he says to her: you are divorced on condition that you remain forbidden—or on condition that you be forbidden—to everyone in the world. He imposes conditions on the divorce. So he imposes conditions in such a way that the woman will not be permitted to anyone else to marry afterward. According to Jewish law, that is not a divorce. Why is it not a divorce? Because an act of divorce that does not do what it is supposed to do—which in the language of the Talmud is called “it lacks severance,” there is no severance in it—it does not sever between the husband and the wife. It still leaves a bond between them, for because of him she remains forbidden to everyone in the world even after the divorce. So it turns out that in practice he did not sever the connection between husband and wife, and the role of an act of divorce is to create a severance. If the act of divorce does not create a severance but interferes with severance, then it is not a divorce. Or if someone divorces a woman on condition that she never drinks wine again, for the rest of her life, that too is not a divorce, because in effect he is keeping her bond to him alive the whole time. The purpose of divorce is to sever a bond. If the divorce does not sever the bond, then it is not divorce.

It seems to me that according to Tosafot, what the Talmud is saying here, when Rava says that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are not kiddushin, is the same principle with regard to kiddushin. That in kiddushin too, if the kiddushin do not pave the way for sexual relations, but on the contrary cut off—or fail to allow—the realization of marital intimacy, then it is not an act of kiddushin. The problem is not that they cannot be realized in general. A kohen and a divorcee also cannot realize the kiddushin. And still, it is kiddushin. The problem is not that the kiddushin cannot be realized. The problem is that this is not an act of kiddushin. An act of kiddushin is an act whose function is to create the bond, not to interfere with the bond. Exactly as an act of divorce is supposed to dissolve the bond, not preserve it. Okay?

Yes. And also in the case of a kohen and a divorcee, the kiddushin themselves didn’t do anything—well, maybe it exists with the kohen’s kiddushin—but the kiddushin didn’t repair what was already forbidden before. Before they were… basically then… They’ll be disqualified children—that’s because of the prohibition on a kohen—but because of the prohibition of an unmarried woman, insofar as there is such a prohibition, that prohibition they did permit. They didn’t solve every problem, but they did solve part of the problem. The direction, what this act did, was solve the problem that kiddushin are supposed to solve. True, there is still another problem here, but that has nothing to do with whether or not the act of kiddushin was done correctly. It solved the problems that kiddushin are meant to solve. Okay?

If you’re talking in general terms, clearly that is what blocks the kiddushin, but the point is we run into the problem of other cases punishable by karet, where we saw that there too it is not kiddushin even though the act of kiddushin itself is fine. That is the distinction between those liable for… It’s not because of the principle of… We still haven’t solved the problem, or rather the problem becomes even sharper, between cases of simple prohibitions and cases punishable by karet, where the issue is not in the kiddushin. No, no, no. Because the whole reason we asked why there is a difference between cases punishable by karet and cases of simple prohibitions is because we assumed the issue was kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. And what Tosafot is claiming is that this is not the issue at all. When there is a prohibition that is not connected to the kiddushin themselves, that is not the problem of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. It is simply that kiddushin do not take effect with forbidden relations for other reasons, unrelated to kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. It is not because there was something flawed in the act of kiddushin, but because such a woman cannot be betrothed. We are speaking about a case of someone who in principle can be betrothed, but the act that you did is not a good act of kiddushin. In the case of forbidden relations, the act of kiddushin may be excellent, but they are not the kind of women whom one can betroth at all. That is the problem there. By contrast, in the case of simple prohibitions there is no such problem. They can be betrothed in principle, the act of kiddushin is a good act, and therefore the kiddushin takes effect.

Tosafot may work out nicely in the case of the kohen and the divorcee, but the plain meaning of the phrase “kiddushin not fit for sexual relations” sounds much more like Rashi’s explanation: kiddushin that cannot be realized. All the nice conceptual ideas about what kiddushin contain, that’s lovely, but it is not what the term says. That’s exactly why I made all those introductions. I agree that the plain reading of “kiddushin not fit for sexual relations” is Rashi’s reading. But that raises all sorts of difficulties. What about simple prohibitions? What about various other things? What about cases punishable by karet? Why don’t they challenge Rava from there? Or Abaye, sorry. Cases punishable by karet—there kiddushin do not take effect. So that should be a challenge to Abaye. After all, Abaye says kiddushin not fit for sexual relations do take effect. Yet no one asks this; no one is bothered by it at all. You can see that the Talmud did not mean that.

Now with Rashi one can explain this separately—I don’t want to get into that—but this is the view of most of the medieval authorities (Rishonim). Most of the medieval authorities understand kiddushin not fit for sexual relations—the Rashba writes here—that this is a problem in the act of kiddushin. It is not a problem in the relationship between husband and wife being unrealizable; it is a problem in the act of kiddushin itself, which is not a connecting act but a disconnecting act. The very thing that leads you to explain it this way is the cases in the Talmud; it is not the plain meaning of the expression. Okay, but the cases in the Talmud tell us what the expression means, and if you want, it is an interpretive reading rather than the plain meaning.

All right, I want to move on a bit because this has taken me longer than I wanted. In light of this conception, as I’ve now presented it, the conception of most of the medieval authorities, the question I hinted at earlier now arises even more forcefully. Why really are cases two and three—case two probably, case three certainly—the cases over which Abaye and Rava disagree? Why is it that if someone betroths one of two sisters, this is called kiddushin not fit for sexual relations? If we had taken Rashi’s view, that the problem is simply that the kiddushin cannot actually be realized, then I understand. Right? Because in practice, true, it’s only because of uncertainty, but in practice the kiddushin cannot be realized because with regard to each woman I must worry that perhaps she is my wife’s sister. Okay, so that makes sense.

But after the correction made by the Rashba and Tosafot, who explain to us that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are not kiddushin that cannot be realized—that’s not the point—the point is that this is an act of kiddushin that created an obstacle instead of paving the way, opening the way—if so, I do not understand why cases two and three really are cases of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. The act of kiddushin created no obstacle at all. In the act of kiddushin, I betrothed one woman and she is permitted to me; it forbade her sister to me. But every act of kiddushin forbids the wife’s sister. When I betroth a woman, automatically her sister becomes forbidden to me. That certainly does not prevent the act from being considered an act of kiddushin, as long as the woman whom I betrothed is permitted to me. It forbade me her sister, or her mother, or her relatives. So here too basically the same thing happened. The act of kiddushin I performed permitted one woman to me and forbade her sister to me; I just don’t know which is which.

If the conception were like Rashi’s—the simple, straightforward reading, what you called earlier the plain meaning—that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are kiddushin that cannot be realized, then yes, here too in practice it cannot be realized. But if the conception is a substantive one about the act of kiddushin, then it is really not clear why this counts as kiddushin not fit for sexual relations. That is the first question.

The second question appears—I won’t now read the Rashba inside, the passage that appears on your sheet because I see I’m not going to have time—but it is sharpened in the two passages from the Rashba that I brought on the sheet. Hey, can I ask a side question—is that possible? If all these things are blocked—for example by the Rabbinate. What? There’s a block here—if the Rabbinate is a block, you go register for marriage. No, no, let’s not get into current events. I’m speaking now about the passage itself. Yes. Certainly not the Rabbinate—don’t remind me of them.

So we have a first question: why are case two and case three—again, to remind you, betrothing two sisters at once, or betrothing one unspecified sister out of two sisters—why are those considered kiddushin not fit for sexual relations? According to the definition of Tosafot and the Rashba, the definition is basically that the act of kiddushin must create some kind of problem. In these two cases, on the face of it, the act of kiddushin did not create a problem.

The second question: if they really are both considered kiddushin not fit for sexual relations, does Abaye agree that one who betroths two sisters—the kiddushin do not take effect? That is the law of the Mishnah. Certainly yes; Abaye also agrees to that. It is the law of the Mishnah. Right? But if this is kiddushin not fit for sexual relations, then Abaye holds that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations do take effect. That is what the Rashba asks here in the second passage. The Rashba asks regarding Abaye: if you really say that kiddushin not fit for sexual relations are valid kiddushin, no problem, that is what Abaye says, and to betroth two sisters—the Talmud above says this is a case of kiddushin not fit for sexual relations; that is how it explains it in Rava’s view—well then according to Abaye it should have taken effect. In fact the kiddushin should have taken effect with the two sisters. Why doesn’t it? That is the Rashba’s question.

In fact the Rashba asks another question too, and again I won’t get into the details. It’s the first Rashba passage. He says that even in Rava’s view one sees a similar phenomenon. Not exactly the same as in Abaye’s view, but something similar. What did we see in Abaye’s view? In Abaye’s view, if someone betroths two women at once, it is not kiddushin. Even Abaye agrees it is not kiddushin. Right? But if someone betroths one woman out of two sisters—not two women, two sisters—if someone betroths one woman out of two sisters, Abaye says: that is kiddushin. It is kiddushin not fit for sexual relations, and Abaye holds that such kiddushin are valid. What is the difference between them? My first question was: why are both of these called kiddushin not fit for sexual relations at all? The second question is: even if I accept that, why is there a difference between them?

Now this second question also exists according to Rava, because with Rava too, as one sees in the course of the Talmud—anyone who wants can later look in the Rashba in the first passage—even in Rava’s view one sees that the case of betrothing two sisters at once is simpler. He holds that in both cases the kiddushin do not take effect, in accordance with Rava. But still, even he agrees that the case of betrothing two sisters at once is a more obvious case of kiddushin not taking effect than the case of someone who betrothed one sister out of the two. And the question is: why? In other words, you basically see a similar phenomenon as with Abaye, and the question is why.

So here I’ll move directly to the third passage on your sheet. It is a section from Rabbi Shimon Shkop in Sha’arei Yosher, in the source packet, the last long passage. “It further appears to me, in my humble opinion, that where one betrothed one of five women, and likewise in the case of exchange for a dog”—never mind that now, I won’t get into it—second line: “there is here a deep inquiry as to in what way the legal effect applies to one of them. For behold, when one betroths one woman out of five women, and neither the man betrothing nor the woman being betrothed specified which one of them is to be designated for the kiddushin, how can we say that in objective reality one particular woman has been designated for kiddushin? For what reason and cause should Heaven designate one particular woman to be the one betrothed and singled out more than the other women?”

What is he basically saying? He is saying: what is the ordinary case of uncertainty? The medieval authorities seem to have treated one who betroths one of two women as a case of doubt. Either Rachel is betrothed, in which case Leah counts as his wife’s sister and is forbidden to him; or Leah is betrothed, in which case Rachel is his wife’s sister and is forbidden to him. But Rabbi Shimon Shkop says: what uncertainty is there here? There is no uncertainty here at all. A case of uncertainty is when there is one clear truth that I do not know. For example, I betrothed one of the two women—one specific one—I gave her the ring, but then it slipped my mind which one. I forgot which one. Don’t remember. It was a long time ago. I don’t remember which one of them. Fine? In such a situation this really is a case of doubt, because there is one who is truly betrothed. The Holy One, blessed be He, knows who she is; I do not know. In the language of the Talmud: it is revealed before Heaven. The Holy One knows who is betrothed; I do not know which one. So I am in doubt. Like any situation of uncertainty—there is a piece of meat and I do not know whether it is kosher or non-kosher. So I am in doubt.

But our case is not that case. When he betroths one woman out of two women—or five women, as in the case discussed here—there is no single real woman who is truly betrothed and I just do not know who she is. None of them is truly betrothed. Even if we were to ask the Holy One to reveal to us, please, which woman is truly betrothed, He would tell us: honored gentlemen, I don’t know either. There is no one woman who is truly betrothed. It is not that I don’t know who the truly betrothed woman is; there is no such woman. There is no such woman. Therefore, Rabbi Shimon Shkop says, this is not really a case of uncertainty at all. So what is it?

“Rather, it seems”—that is in the sixth line—“that it is more plausible to say that in every such case, even in objective reality, no particular woman was designated for kiddushin. And in such a case it is not relevant to say: if Elijah were to come”—that’s a note, yes—“that if Elijah were to come he would tell me whether the betrothed woman is Rachel or Leah. Here even Elijah could not say that. And what we said, that each one is forbidden because of doubt”—what we said, that each of the two women is forbidden because this is a doubt—“this is not like ordinary cases of doubt. For the nature of ordinary doubt is: perhaps this is the certain reality, perhaps that is the certain reality. But one of them is certain; I just don’t know which. That is my lack of knowledge. Here, however, the matter is that the whole legal effect comes about because of a cause that generates it, and the cause of the legal effect of kiddushin is the act of kiddushin, the giving of the money and the declaration. Since he gave the money and said, ‘One of these five women shall be betrothed to me,’ such that by this act one of them ought to become, as a matter of law, a married woman, because of that each one is forbidden by virtue of the act and not because we are uncertain.”

Who forbade this woman to me? It is not because we are uncertain, because we are not uncertain. The act forbade the woman. If I now betroth a woman—there is Rachel and Leah, fine, two women, not necessarily sisters. Well, no, let’s say sisters actually. I betroth one of them, one specific one—I went and gave kiddushin to Rachel. Fine? Two years later I come back there wanting to take my wife home, but I forgot which one of them I betrothed, and apparently they forgot too. Fine? I forgot which one of them I betrothed. That is an uncertainty created in my knowledge. There is one woman who is truly betrothed; I just don’t know which of the two she is. The Holy One does know, right? That is the law of doubt.

Here, what forbids the woman to me, Rabbi Shimon Shkop says, is not my lack of knowledge. It is not my uncertainty that forbids her to me. Right? Sorry—not the act of kiddushin, but my lack of knowledge is what forbids the woman to me in the ordinary case, which is ordinary doubt. In our case, when he betroths one woman out of two without specifying which one, here Rabbi Shimon Shkop says there is no missing knowledge at all. Missing knowledge means that the information exists, I just do not know it. Here the information does not exist; it is not that I do not know it. This is not doubt. So why is the woman forbidden? Because I am uncertain? I am not uncertain. I know everything there is to know about the situation. The uncertainty exists in the situation itself, not because of my lack of knowledge, not because I am missing some item of information.

So what created the prohibition on the women here, says Rabbi Shimon Shkop? The act of kiddushin, not my uncertainty. The act of kiddushin forbade them, because this is an act of kiddushin that in effect applies to both, since no one woman was defined in the act of kiddushin. So it turns out that what forbade the women to me was the act of kiddushin, not my ignorance.

So remember what my question was: why, when I betroth one of two women, is that called kiddushin not fit for sexual relations according to Tosafot’s and the Rashba’s definition? After all, here it isn’t the act of kiddushin that forbade the woman to me, but my doubt, because I don’t know which one is betrothed. Rabbi Shimon Shkop tells us: that is true when the doubt is an ordinary doubt—when I betrothed a woman and just don’t remember whom. But if I betroth one of two women and she is not defined at all, then the act of kiddushin itself forbade both women to me. Not my lack of knowledge, because there is no lack of knowledge. I know everything that the Holy One knows; I know it too.

All the appendages around the kiddushin, there’s an appendix in it, obligations, forgetfulness—isn’t that the same ceremony? Not the same ceremony, and with all of them you can ask: who wrote the ketubah and for whom. Everything is perfect, so there’s no uncertainty. No, no, no. Kiddushin can take effect even without a ketubah; that’s something else. We are talking about kiddushin now. Yes, just money. Do they need a bill of divorce? Yes. If both were betrothed, both would need a bill of divorce. But according to the law, they are not both betrothed, so they don’t need a bill of divorce. Fine? According to Abaye—I am speaking now of Rava’s view. According to Abaye, the law is that both are betrothed, and therefore both need a bill of divorce, yes.

So if that is the case, Rabbi Shimon Shkop has incidentally solved for us the difficulties we discussed earlier. Rabbi Shimon Shkop is basically telling us that in the case where I betroth one woman out of two without specifying which, this is not an ordinary case of doubt. The reason I am now forbidden from having sexual relations with the two women is not my lack of knowledge. It is not uncertainty that forbids the women to me. What forbade the women to me was the act of kiddushin. It is an act of kiddushin that applies to both. I can’t say it differently; the wording is… But the wording is part of the act of kiddushin. The wording defines what the act of kiddushin did. But it is not correct. What do you mean it is not correct? That is what I did. There is no “correct” and “incorrect.” What I did is what I did. Now the question is what resulted from it. This act of kiddushin—this is the situation it created. Once an act of kiddushin creates a situation in which it itself forbids me from realizing the kiddushin, then as Tosafot and the Rashba said, that is not an act of kiddushin. That is exactly the explanation.

Now I want to expand a bit on this point, because this is a very interesting and rather rare case. Basically there is a phenomenon here that is not the ordinary state of doubt. There is no one real situation and I just don’t know which one it is. There is a reality that in its very essence contains a kind of ambiguity. The ambiguity is not in me; it is in reality itself. The reality itself exists between two possibilities, and both are on the table. Not because I don’t know, and not because no one else knows—this is the actual reality.

This exact phenomenon appears in quantum theory. In quantum theory there is uncertainty, right? I don’t know whether Schrödinger’s cat is alive or dead, or whether the particle has this velocity or another velocity. Quite a few people tried to claim, and still try to claim, that the whole issue is just a matter of uncertainty. Meaning: in reality there is one definite velocity for the particle, or the cat is either alive or dead, there is one state. I just do not know what that one state is. But it is becoming more and more clear that one by one more and more proposals of that kind are being ruled out, and today there is proof for quite a large portion of the options that this is not the situation. Therefore, the prevailing approach today in quantum theory—though there are still a few stubborn holdouts who haven’t surrendered—is that the ambiguity is in reality itself, not in the observer, not in me. That means the particle itself has this velocity and that velocity at the same time, and it is not that I don’t know which of the two velocities is the correct one. Rather, it itself is, as it were, in two different velocities. There is some reality here that contains a kind of ambiguity, what in the scientific context is called superposition. You are in a superposition of two states. Okay? That is exactly the state here.

Here it is simply a superposition of two states. True, with two women this is not two states of one woman, but the kiddushin applies to one of two women. It is an interesting superposition. It is like saying whether this particle has this velocity or that particle has that velocity—not what velocity the particle has. In any case, there is some situation here that basically shows us that on the legal plane something can happen quite easily, something that in the physical world is very hard to understand if it happens at all, and indeed there are those who do not even agree that it does happen. In the legal world it is completely clear that this is the case. I think you can’t really argue about such a thing. In the legal world, when I betroth one woman out of two women, I simply create with my own hands a quantum uncertainty.

Now anyone who understands a little what quantum uncertainty means, or who knows a little quantum logic, should learn this chapter of Rabbi Shimon Shkop in Sha’arei Yosher—and I can’t do that here—and he will see that Rabbi Shimon Shkop had an excellent intuition. By the way, this was almost at the same period as the initial crystallization of quantum theory. It’s the zeitgeist. Still, he has some misses throughout this chapter because he doesn’t take it all the way. And it turns out that if you take the quantum logic all the way, all the difficulties he raises there are resolved in a completely smooth way. Anyone who wants a challenge should study chapter 22 of section 3 in Sha’arei Yosher according to this principle, and you’ll see beautiful things there.

He doesn’t quite manage to escape the concepts of doubt. He says that now… I’d like to demonstrate this once more, in an even stronger way, this special kind of doubt, again on the legal plane, because there it is easier to grasp, and also to explain a bit how in the end this works. There are two opposite realities that take effect simultaneously, together.

And again I’ll take an example from Rabbi Shimon Shkop, a Jew with very sharp and powerful logical intuition. He writes in Kuntres HaTna’im at the end of tractate Gittin, at the end of his novellae on tractate Gittin, discussing the question of someone who divorced a woman conditionally. He divorced the woman on condition that she not drink wine for ten years. What is her status during those ten years, between the giving of the bill of divorce and the time when she fulfills or fails to fulfill the condition? One possibility he raises there is that the woman is both divorced and not divorced at the same time. Then, after ten years, if she drinks wine, it becomes clear that she was not divorced—it becomes clear retroactively, there is a collapse, if we want to continue the quantum terminology. And if she does not drink wine, then it becomes clear that she was divorced and always was. It’s a kind of collapse into one of the universes, in quantum language. That is what he wants to claim.

When I spoke about this in Yeruham, when I was teaching in the hesder yeshiva there and we were learning this passage, the guys stopped me in the middle of the lecture and said: Wait a second. What do you mean, a woman who is both a married woman and a divorcee? I’m used to saying that and then immediately moving on to the next issue; it never even occurred to me that there was anything problematic there. But sometimes it’s good when a few people who aren’t yet sufficiently polished in yeshiva-style thinking stop you for a moment so you can think about the nonsense you’re saying.

So they said to me: What do you mean? If she’s divorced, then she’s not a married woman. What do you mean by a woman who is both a married woman and a divorcee? So I told them a story. Once I was occupied with a certain issue—I sometimes like to deal with philosophical questions—and I was looking for something that has no opposite. Is there anything that has no opposite? And I couldn’t find anything. I spoke with a good friend of mine—maybe he had a good example for me. He’s a known collector of examples in all kinds of things. So I asked him whether he had a good example for me of something that has no opposite. He said: What’s the problem? A chair has no opposite, a wall, a bird, a cloud. And then suddenly I caught myself: I didn’t understand. So many things—how did I miss them? The answer is that I was looking in the domain of attributes, or characteristics. The relation of opposition is a relation that exists between properties. There’s spicy, sweet, salty and sweet—however you define the properties—dark and light. Those are properties. But light is not the opposite of darkness. Between objects there is no relation of opposition.

When I say that a certain dish is salty—let’s say completely salty, for simplicity—then it is not sweet. Because those are properties of the dish. It cannot have two opposite properties at the same time. Either it is salty or it is sweet. But if I say that in the dish there is both salt and sugar, there is no problem with that. Right? When there are two objects, objects with opposite properties can coexist just fine. There is no problem. When I speak about a property of something, it cannot be characterized by two opposite properties at the same time.

When we talk about a woman who is both a married woman and a divorcee, why does this bother us? Because we understand that being a married woman and being a divorcee is a property. A legal property, in this case—a legal status. There is a legal status, and if her legal status is that she is a married woman, then her legal status cannot be that she is a divorcee, and vice versa. Because those are legal properties of the woman. So if she is a divorcee she is not a married woman, and if she is a married woman she is not a divorcee.

But that is not true. When I say that a woman is both a divorcee and a married woman, I am not talking about her legal status. I am talking about her meta-legal status. I am claiming that two legal effects rest on the woman, in halakhic language: the legal effect of a married woman and the legal effect of a divorcee. Those legal effects are a kind of entities, like salt and sugar. Salt and sugar are two entities. Salt, that entity, has the property of being salty. Sugar has the property of being sweet. Salt and sugar are two entities that have opposite properties. There is no problem saying that the dish contains both salt and sugar. The only problem would be to say that the dish itself is both salty and sweet—both completely salty and completely sweet, for the sake of discussion. In other words, properties cannot… a thing cannot have two opposite properties at the same time.

Just one more second—I want to finish the point so as not to interrupt the flow. The claim is basically this: when we say that a woman has both the legal effect of being a married woman and the legal effect of being a divorcee, we are not saying something self-contradictory. If we say a woman is both a married woman and a divorcee, that really is an internal contradiction, because one legal entity cannot have two opposite, contradictory statuses simultaneously. But if I say that two legal effects rest on the woman—the legal effect of a married woman and the legal effect of a divorcee—there is no problem. The dish contains both salt and sugar.

The problem only arises with regard to what norms will derive from such a situation. In other words, what will be the legal status of that woman? Here a situation arises that is very similar to the laws of doubt. If I ask whether that woman—let’s say a woman who is both a divorcee and a married woman—if I ask: may she marry someone else? The answer is no, right? If I ask now: may she marry a kohen? Also no. So first I used the fact that she is a married woman, and now I use the fact that she is a divorcee. So decide already—is she a married woman or a divorcee? The answer is: she is both. The legal effect of a married woman and the legal effect of a divorcee rest on her.

But with respect to every question of status, there will be only one answer. When I ask whether she is forbidden to a kohen, I make the following calculation: from the standpoint of her being a married woman—assuming of course that the husband has died by now—there is no problem; she is a widow, she may marry a kohen. She doesn’t have to marry a kohen, but there is no obstacle to her marrying one. From the standpoint of her being a divorcee, there is a legal effect of divorcee resting on her, so she may not marry a kohen. Clearly that overrides the permission. Because if there is a prohibition on marrying a kohen and along with it something that merely says “permitted,” meaning there is no prohibition, then the bottom line is that she is forbidden.

But if I ask whether she may marry someone else, then the exact same calculation yields the opposite result. Since her being a married woman forbids her to marry someone else, whereas her being a divorcee does not forbid that. It doesn’t become a commandment to marry someone else; it just means there is no prohibition. But from the other side there is a prohibition. So in the bottom line, it is enough that from one side there is a prohibition for her to be forbidden.

Rabbi Shimon Shkop there calls this “doubts.” He says we always go stringently; it is like the laws of doubt. She is possibly divorced, possibly a married woman, and we always go stringently: she may not marry a kohen and may not marry anyone else. But that is mistaken. This is not the law of doubt. What if, for example, we are speaking about a rabbinic law? Let’s say there is a married woman and divorcee on the rabbinic level, fine? If this were the law of doubt, then she would be permitted to marry someone else and she would also be permitted to marry a kohen, because with rabbinic-level doubt we rule leniently. But that is not right. Here too, even on the rabbinic level, she would be forbidden to marry someone else and forbidden to marry a kohen. And the reason is that she is both a married woman and a divorcee, not that she is uncertainly a married woman and uncertainly a divorcee. She is both a married woman and a divorcee. So from the aspect of the married woman within her, she is forbidden to marry someone else, even if this is rabbinic. This is not doubt.

Exactly what we saw here too: the medieval authorities relate to this as doubt, and Rabbi Shimon Shkop a little as well. But it is not doubt. In terms of the analysis of the legal status—the normative analysis, not the ontological one, yes? Not what lies in the background, the legal effects themselves, but the legal consequences—in terms of legal analysis, this is very similar to the laws of doubt. Not identical, as I said before, but very similar. Yet in essence it is not really a state of doubt. It is a state of quantum uncertainty. It is both this and that. And on the plane of the… since legal effects are a kind of entities, there is no problem. Because entities can both rest on the same woman, even if the properties of those entities are opposite properties.

By the way, I think this is also the explanation in quantum theory. Usually our intuition resists seeing two different velocities or a cat that is both alive and dead. I claim that the cat has resting on it a legal effect—or let’s call it a status—of alive and a status of dead. It is not itself both alive and dead; that is not its state. Rather, some sort of effect—here a scientific one, not a legal one—rests upon it: a status of alive and a status of dead. And there is no problem with that. Because entities with contradictory properties can exist together. Usually when only the status of dead rests on it, it will also be dead in practice. And when the status of alive rests on it, it will also be alive in practice. But when both statuses rest on it together, then it is in a quantum uncertainty. Then measurement decides.

And incidentally, Rabbi Shimon Shkop here in section 3, chapter 22, what I mentioned earlier, goes on to discuss what happens if he then marries one of the two women—that is, after having betrothed one of two women. The question is whether afterward, if he decides to take one of them, does that clarify retroactively that she is the one who had been betrothed? He asks why not, and he brings various proofs from the law of retroactive clarification, from the Talmudic discussions of retroactive clarification. But this is really nothing more than an extension of the same quantum way of thinking. When he takes one of the women, he is basically causing what is called there a collapse—of the wave function, the collapse. This pair of states, this superposition, in effect chooses retroactively to be one of the possibilities and erases the other.

Now here that conclusion is not accepted, for various reasons—just as in the discussion of retroactive clarification, it is exactly the same debate—but basically this really seems to me to be the legal parallel to the physical situation found in quantum theory. And the advantage of the legal parallel is that here you can understand it in the simplest and most intuitive way. Any child with common sense can tell us that when a person betroths one woman out of two women without specifying which, if you sharpen for him what he’s saying, he’ll tell us that this is quantum uncertainty. Something that in the physical world no one would ever dream of saying is some kind of possible state. So we have here a very simple realization of the logic of quantum theory in the legal world, very simple and very understandable. It is highly intuitive. This is how it has to be. It does not contradict intuition. And it seems to me this can also illuminate the problems there, but of course that is out of scope.

All right, thank you. Thank you very much.