Chizuk for Daf Yomi – The Special Significance of Gemara Study: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Shavuous Maamar 17)

Chizuk for Daf Yomi – The Special Significance of Gemara Study: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Shavuous Maamar 17)

Adapted By Eliakim Willner

Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. He is currently working on a continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.

Section 1 – Laying the Groundwork

The Rambam writes the following in Hilchos Talmud Torah 1:11:

“A person is obligated to divide his study time into three: one third should be devoted to the Written Torah; one third to the Oral Torah; and one third to understanding and conceptualizing the ultimate derivation of a concept from its roots, inferring one concept from another and comparing concepts and understanding the principles by which laws are derived from the Torah’s verses, until he appreciates the essence of those principles and how they are used to determine what is prohibited and what is permitted, and the other laws which were received according to the oral tradition. The latter topic is called Gemara.”

In the next halacha, the Rambam continues:

“The above applies in the early stages of a person’s study. However, once a person increases his knowledge… he should focus his attention on the Gemara alone for his entire life, according to his ambition and his ability to concentrate.”

This Rambam conveys an innovative insight. We know that there is a distinction between laying the groundwork for sanctity and sanctity itself, as well as between laying the groundwork for a mitzva and the mitzva itself. But the Rambam is teaching us that there are similar relationships even when it comes to actual Torah; there are aspects of Torah that play a laying-the-groundwork-for-Torah role, and aspects that play a Torah-itself role.

This is clear from the Rambam’s presentation. The Rambam discusses all three of the Torah branches only in the context of the early stages of a person’s study. Once a person has graduated from those stages, however, the Rambam says that he should focus his attention on Gemara alone. In other words, only the study of Gemara constitutes Torah-itself, the other branches of Torah study are merely means to an end.

This, as we said, is an innovative insight. When we speak of the study of Torah-itself, the three branches do not have equal footing; each branch has its own role and its own relationship to the other branches. Specifically, these relationships are set up such that each of the branches of Torah study except the study of Gemara play a laying-the-groundwork role.

Section 2 – The Seemingly Redundant Bridge

It behooves us to find a basis for this insight. We know that there are two hekesh “bridges” that connect Torah study through the generations to the Torah study of the first-generation Torah recipients at Sinai. The first connection is via the “study it now just as we got it then” bridge – as the Gemara (Brachos 22a) puts it, Just as when the Torah was given, it was with reverence and fear and trembling and quaking, so must in be when studying it now, as well. The second connection takes the form of, “Just as I teach you for free, so too you also shall teach for free”. Figuratively speaking, Hashem is making that statement to Moshe, telling him that just as when Hashem taught Moshe the Torah, there was no quid pro quo, so also, when Moshe teaches the Torah to Yisroel, he may not take any form of payment.

The basis for the first bridge is the juxtaposition of the verses, “And you shall impart them to your children and your children’s children” (Devarim 4:9) which speaks of present-tense Torah study, and the following verse, “The day that you stood before Hashem, your G-d at Chorev”, which is a reference to the giving of the Torah at Sinai. Based on that bridge the Gemara declares, “Just as there it was with reverence and fear and trembling and quaking, so in this case too  it must be with reverence and fear and trembling and quaking.

The basis for the second bridge is the verse (Devarim 4:5), “Behold, I have taught you statutes and laws, as Hashem my G-d commanded me”, on which the Gemara declares, “Just as I teach you for free, so too you also shall teach for free”. In this verse Moshe is telling Yisroel that he is teaching them Torah in the same no-cost manner that Hashem taught it to him.

The practical outcome of the halacha that emerges from the first bridge is that one may not study Torah when not in a state of “reverence and fear and trembling and quaking”. This is the basis for tevilas Ezra (Ezra decreed, on the basis of the first bridge, that a baal keri may not learn Torah until he purifies himself by immersion in a mikva). But it is worth asking why the second bridge is necessary at all. Why does the first bridge not suffice, to derive the prohibition against receiving payment for teaching Torah, as well, since any number of specifics can be transferred from one topic to another using a hekesh? It would teach us that just as the giving of the Torah was without pay, so too should the teaching of Torah today be without pay! Why is a separate bridge necessary to teach us this halacha?

Section 3 – The Justification for the Second Bridge

The key to answering this question lies in the words of Rav Yosi (Brachos 22a), who says that tevilas Ezra is not required when one is reviewing superficially, which Rashi explains to mean that he is reviewing Mishnayos that roll off his tongue as a result of his familiarity with them – with rigilus. Thus we see that the first bridge is limited-application because it does not preclude review by rote Torah study. However it is obvious that the distinction between superficial and non-superficial Torah does not apply with respect to teaching Torah for payment, because the prohibition against taking payment applies to other mitzvos, not just to teaching Torah. Since accepting payment is a blanket prohibition that spans all mitzvos it would not make sense to differentiate between different forms of the mitzva of Torah study. Therefore, we require the second bridge to derive the payment prohibition: “Just as I teach you for free, so too you also shall teach for free”. Since any imperative derived from the first bridge will be limited to non-rote situations, we must find another source for the payment prohibition that does not carry along with it that limitation.

Section 4 – The Significance of Torah Study with Toil

The words of Rav Yosi provide a new perspective on the significance of ameilus, toil, when studying Torah. What is it that characterizes the superficial study that is exempt from the requirements imposed by “study it now just as we got it then”? It is that superficial study is the antithesis of study with toil. We see, then, that toil when applied to Torah study does not merely produce a more praiseworthy, or more exalted, form of study, because failure to achieve what is merely a non-obligatory level of study would not create an exemption from the requirement of “study it now just as we got it then”.

It is clear that the “reverence and fear and trembling and quaking” of Sinai pertains only study with toil, and only study with toil carries the obligation of “study it now just as we got it then”.

Section 5 – Gemara – The Ultimate Level of Torah Study

We are now in a position to better understand the words of the Rambam cited in section 1 about non-Gemara Torah study being a preparation for the ultimate goal, the study of Gemara .

The Rambam describes the study of Gemara as understanding and conceptualizing the ultimate derivation of a concept from its roots, inferring one concept from another and comparing concepts and understanding the principles by which laws are derived from the Torah’s verses, etc. Certainly, the study of Gemara is the natural habitat of an intellect that toils to get to the essence and the scope of a matter, and that labors to infer one concept from another.

Rav Yosi’s rigilus terminology is meant to refer to the bottom rung of Torah study, since that level of study involves the least amount of ameilus. When the Rambam discussed ameilus in connection with the study of Gemara he is attempting to put as much distance as possible between that and rigilus; they are at opposite ends of the exertion spectrum.

The study of Mishna falls somewhere in the middle of that spectrum, since it does not rise to the level of Gemara study, but some elements of Gemara study (such as “understanding and conceptualizing the ultimate derivation of a concept from its roots, etc.” which are the elements of the study of Gemara as the Rambam defines them) will always be present when studying Mishna; when the mind grapples to understand Mishna it is engaging in a mental activity that is akin to the study of Gemara.

In the same way, it is impossible to study the Written Torah without reference to Oral Torah – that is, to Mishna and Gemara – since the Written Torah is not understandable without external explanation, and external explanation constitutes Oral Torah, as the Rambam explicitly states.

Thus both Written Torah and Mishna do qualify as “training grounds” for the study of Gemara.

Now, the Torah was given at Sinai in a state of “reverence and fear and trembling and quaking”, as we discussed in section 2, and the epitome of that state can only be reached post-Sinai through the study of Gemara with ameilus, which takes us as far as possible from the level of rigilus – for which “reverence and fear and trembling and quaking” are irrelevant. This is the basis for the Rambam’s conclusion that the other realms of Torah study serve as preliminaries for the study of Gemara and therefore their place is  the early stages of a person’s study.

Section 6 – The Significant Absence

The question we must now address is, “Why?”. Why is the quality of ameilus when studying Torah so significant that its absence permits Torah study even in circumstances when Torah study is ordinarily prohibited? Clearly, the absence of the quality of ameilus creates a fundamental change in the nature of Torah studied in that state. Why does not the absence of ameilus create a similar fundamental change in other mitzvos, when they are performed without ameilus?

Section 7 – The Priceless Intellect

Our journey to discovering the answer to this question begins with the well-known halacha that if someone sells medicinal herbs to a sick person for more than market value, the buyer must pay no more than market value. If, on the other hand, a doctor sets a high price for his services, the buyer must pay the full price quoted. The Shulchan Aruch in Yoreh Daiya 336 explains that the rationale for this distinction is that the doctor is selling his sagacity, which has no set market value.

We explained elsewhere that the reason that wisdom, in general, has no set value is because each learned person’s wisdom is unique, and since it is unique there are no like items that it can be lumped together with to arrive at consensus value. Only when items are similar enough to fit together in a single category can the market establish a value for those items. Each person’s wisdom is unique, however, and is therefore not susceptible to having a “standard” price assigned to it. In other words, commodities have market values because the prices charged by individual sellers will tend to converge toward a narrow range. Sellers that charge more than the going rate will have a hard time finding buyers. Sellers that charge considerably less will arouse the suspicion that their product is of inferior quality. Most stores will sell an apple for about the same price, for example. But the owner of a rare and unique diamond can set his own price because there is no diamond similar enough to his, to assess whether his is over or underpriced.

Thus only when it comes to wisdom may the seller set his own price, and must the buyer pay that price. If a tradesman were to attempt to set a high price for his services, however, his customer would not be obligated to pay any more than market value for those services.

Now, it might be argued that since every one of man’s capabilities is unique to him alone, and the fruit of Reuven’s labors will of necessity be different from those of Shimon’s, why should not even the common tradesman be able to set and collect a high price for his services? Why should their unique capabilities be treated any differently from wisdom?

This is not a valid argument, however, because wisdom is fundamentally different from man’s other capabilities. Wisdom is what separates man from other life forms, and thus wisdom is the “true-man”, within “man-as-a-composite-of-his-various-capabilities”. In fact, wisdom is to man’s other capabilities, what mankind itself is, to the animal kingdom, within which there is no individuality. (The Torah uses the word, l’mino, “after its species” when speaking of animals. See, for example, Vayikra 11:15. As our early Sages put it, only with respect to man is there a concept of individuality. Men are provided divine sustenance as individuals, not in the composite, as a breed.)

The bottom line is that although a person may have multiple capabilities that theoretically differ from the parallel capabilities of his fellows, it is only with respect to the intellect that the differences in the capabilities between one person and another have any practical significance – to the extent that there is no set market value to a person’s wisdom. Man’s other capabilities may be individual to him, but they are not fundamentally different from the capabilities of other species, and therefore they are not significant enough for the variations between the capabilities of one person and another to have a financial value.

Section 8 – The Inventive Power of the Intellect

Individuality is ingrained in the intellect as a trait, and that means that in its very essence the intellect is an innovator. If it were not the case that every intellect, by virtue of its nature, carves out its own innovative path, it could not possess the trait of individuality. One intellect would be a cookie-cutter image of another intellect.

Intellectual individuality is only possible because each intellect creates something unique, something that no other intellect could have come up with. Thus the unique identity of an intellect is formed by its originative power. That is the meaning of the phrase (Chagigah 3a), “there is no Bais Medrash session without innovation”. The Bais Medrash is where the intellect shines most brightly; where its true nature comes to the fore. The statement that “there is no Bais Medrash session without innovation” is thus a statement that innovation is the hallmark of the intellect; more, that it is impossible for an active intellect not to be innovative.

The intellect exists to create; its toil is entirely dedicated to originating something that did not exist before. When the intellect contemplates a matter, it is laboring to discover a fresh outlook on that matter. Before the contemplation the matter appeared one way. Afterwards it appears in an entirely different light. This change in outlook is what we mean when we speak of the intellect’s creative power. We call the intellectual process of focusing on a matter to see it in a more clarified way “ameilus of the intellect”. Thus, to speak of the intellect divorced from ameilus is akin to speaking of the fatherhood of someone who is sterile – an impossible contradiction in terms.

When the intellect’s immersion in Torah leads to a fresh understanding of a Torah matter – that is ameilus in Torah. We refer to Torah study with this kind of ameilus as “Gemara-level study”.

We are now prepared to understand why the absence of ameilus creates a fundamental change with respect to the study of Torah, but does not create a similar fundamental change with respect to other mitzvos.

The study of Torah is an intellect-bound mitzva and as such it is primarily an act of innovation, and that innovation is achieved, as we have discussed, through ameilus. Ameilus, then, has the power to uplift Torah study to Gemara-level heights, the optimum level of Torah study, and to purge it from the superficiality of rigilus, which stands at the opposite end of the spectrum from Gemara study – so much so, that Ezra’s decree prohibiting Torah study when in a certain state does not even include rigilus-level study.

All this is true, however, only of Torah study, which is accomplished through the intellect. However, ameilus is not critical to other paths of service to Hashem, which are not necessarily tied to the intellect and therefore do not rise and fall on the basis of innovation. For those paths ameilus is beneficial and praiseworthy but it is not indispensable. The presence or absence of ameilus does not draw a firm line of demarcation between two distinct categories of that particular form of service, as it does for Torah study, where the categories are Gemara on the one hand, rigilus, on the other.

Section 9 – The Unique Association of Ameilus with Torah Study

With the concepts developed in this Maamar we can understand the words of the Maharal at the beginning of parshas Bechukosai. On the verse (Vayikra 26:3), “If you travel the path of My statutes…” Rashi comments, “what is the meaning of ‘If you travel the path of My statutes’? It means that you must toil in the study of Torah”. The Maharal explains that Rashi derives this interpretation from the verse’s choice of words, “if you travel…”; just as traveling a path transports a person from one place to another, so too does ameilus, toiling in Torah, transport a person from echelon to ever-rising echelon in his journey to increase the depth of his Torah understanding. The word tailaichu, literally means to travel a path; the simple understanding of its usage here is that it is merely a metaphorical way of saying, “If you follow My statutes” but the Maharal understood that Rashi derived his interpretation, “you must toil in the study of Torah”, from this precise choice of words.

However, this explanation of the Maharal is puzzling. After all, toil in any avenue of service to Hashem also transports a person from echelon to higher echelon. Why does Rashi conclude, according to the Maharal, that this stepwise elevation must be a specific reference to ameilus in the study of Torah?

The answer lies in what we have been saying. It is only with respect to Torah study that ameilus creates an entirely different category of the mitzva, for ameilus takes Torah study out of the category of rigilus and catapults it into the category of Gemara. As the Rambam writes, Gemara is to the other areas of Torah, as an end is, to a means toward that end. With respect to other areas of service to Hashem, ameilus creates an enhanced form of service but it does not create a different category of service. It does not transport a person to a distinctly different place. And because the Torah uses language indicating that kind of transport, Rashi infers, explains the Maharal, that “If you travel the path of My statutes…” is a specific reference to Torah study.

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This article is dedicated in honor of my three grandsons for whom this is the year of hascholoas ha’gemara: To Efraim Willner and his classmates at Yeshivas Toras Aharon, Lakewood; to Efraim Meir Willner and his classmates at Yeshivas Rabbeinu Chaim Berlin, Brooklyn; and to Shmuel Wulliger and his classmates at Yeshiva Tiferes Torah, Lakewood. May you all shteig in your learning and grow to become great talmidei chachamim!

An adaptation into English of the full text of Pachad Yitzchok, Shavuous Maamar 17 can be obtained from the author at eli@eliwillner.com.

Question 2 Answer: Section 6

Torah Wisdom Versus Secular Wisdom – As Seen by the Light of the Menorah: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Chanukah Maamar 9)

Torah Wisdom Versus Secular Wisdom – As Seen by the Light of the Menorah: Adapted from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Chanukah Maamar 9)

Adapted By Eliakim Willner

Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. He is currently working on a continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.

Section 1 – A seemingly unnecessary license

“Haneiros Halalu: These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them” (Sofrim 20:6, recited while lighting the Menorah.)

This statement contains two inferences, both of which are presented as consequences of the assertion that the Chanukah lights are holy: 1) making use of the Chanukah lights is prohibited, and 2) viewing the Chanukah lights is permitted. Now, it is clear how a prohibition against making use of the Chanukah lights follows as a result of their sanctity, in accordance with the general principle that one may not derive benefit from objects designated for sacred purposes, but how does the right to view the Chanukah lights follow as a result of their sanctity? It seems obvious that we may view the Chanukah lights because viewing does not constitute “use”, not because sanctity specifically implies a license to view. Why, then, does this statement, which speaks of the consequences of the sanctity of the Chanukah lights, mention that we are permitted to view them at all?

Section 2 – A Jewish “master of science”: no blessing

“Upon seeing a Jewish scholar one should recite the blessing, ‘Blessed are You... Who has apportioned from His wisdom to those who revere Him’. Upon seeing a non-Jewish scholar one should recite the blessing, ‘Blessed are You... Who has given of His wisdom to a flesh-and-blood being’” (A Braiso in Brachos 58a, cited in Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 224:6-7).

The difference in the wording of these two blessings is apparently based on a distinction between the two different forms of wisdom they deal with, since the focus of the Braiso is on why the phrase, “Who has apportioned from”, is appropriate to one who is versed in the wisdom of the Torah, while the phrase, “Who has given of”, is appropriate to one who is versed in the wisdom of the natural sciences. But the Braiso adds a stipulation that extends the criteria for each blessing beyond form of wisdom alone: the person versed in Torah wisdom must be Jewish, in order to create an obligation to recite the first blessing, and the person versed in the natural sciences must be non-Jewish, in order to create an obligation to recite the second blessing.

The reason for the first part of this stipulation is obvious: Torah wisdom, when embodied in a non-Jew, counts for nothing, and engenders no obligation at all, since the Torah describes itself as “an inheritance of the congregation of Yaakov” (Devarim 33:4. The phrase, “The congregation of Yaakov”, explicitly excludes non-Jews, as explained by the Gemara in Sanhedrin 59a). The second part of the stipulation, however - that natural sciences, when embodied in a Jew, also engender no obligation, and there are no grounds whatever for reciting a blessing in this case - is an astonishing revelation. In effect the Braiso is saying that despite the fact that the natural sciences, in and of themselves, generate an obligation to recite a blessing, if the person who has mastered those sciences happens to be Jewish, his identity disqualifies his knowledge from blessing! What are the underlying factors giving rise to this disqualification?

Section 3 – No definitive proofs in Torah study

Our quest for the answer to this question will yield a treasure trove in the form of a keen appreciation of the difference between Torah wisdom and secular wisdom. The key to the treasure trove lies in the words of the Ramban, in his introduction to Sefer HaMilchamos: “As every student of Torah knows, in our discipline there is no concept of definitive proof analogous to the procedural proofs of geometry or the empirical proofs of astronomy”. Let us clearly articulate the full implications of the statement that in the discipline of Torah study there is no concept of definitive proof, as there is in the other disciplines mentioned above.

Section 4 – The covenant of preservation and the covenant of origination

All the covenants mentioned in the Torah are without term, and remain in effect “eternally, forever and to the end of time” (netazch, selah vo’ed; a phrase borrowed from the Ahava Rabbah prayer). The Torah tells us this explicitly with respect to Noach’s covenant of the rainbow (Beraishis 9:8-17) and Avrohom’s covenant of circumcision (Beraishis 17). Different terminology is used, however, in describing the eternal nature of each of these two covenants. We are told that the covenant of the rainbow is eternal with the phrase l’doros olam, “for generations eternal”, while the phrase bris olam, “an eternal covenant” is used to inform us of the eternal nature of the circumcision covenant. To appreciate why the Torah makes this distinction we must again review a recurrent theme in our Bais Medrash, noting that even if we were to go over it one-hundred and one times, we would still not have plumbed its depths nor grasped its full extent.

“Behold, I have set before you today life [- if you follow the good course -] and death [- if you follow the bad course -] ... you should choose life” (Devarim 30:15-19).

Now, the Torah as a whole was imparted to the Jews and only to the Jews, so “...before you” must be directed at the Jewish people, to the exclusion of everyone else. And this is astounding. The ability to choose freely between good and bad - between life and death - does not belong solely to Jews. Just as Jews are able to exercise free choice with respect to their six-hundred and thirteen commandments, so are non-Jews able to exercise free choice with respect to their seven commandments, the seven Noachide laws. Thus the ability to choose between two alternatives is equally applicable to all of Noach’s descendants - to Jew and non-Jew alike. How, then, are we to understand the words of the verse, “I have set [free choice] before you” - which means before you and no one else?

We now describe an approach that will lead us to the correct interpretation of the verse.

The Torah conveys in detail how, prior to the events at Sinai, there was a dialogue between the Jewish nation and Hashem regarding whether or not the Jews would be willing to accept the obligations of the Torah and the commandments upon themselves (Shmos 19:1-8). We find no such exchange recorded in connection with the obligations of the seven Noachide laws. It is fair to conclude, then, that the Noachide laws were imposed independent of any desire for them or any consent to their imposition. In this the seven mitzvos differ from the six-hundred and thirteen, where the very fact that the obligations exist is built upon the foundation of the give-and-take that preceded their imposition. With respect to the six-hundred and thirteen, there were two available alternatives: to accept them, or not to accept them, as described in Shabbos 88a. There were no alternatives when the seven commandments were imposed.

The difference between the two modes of obligation-imposition is predicated on two fundamentally different states of mind. We can best understand this difference by considering, as an example, the contrast between the state of mind that functions to create a debt and the state of mind that functions to pay a debt. The state of mind that functions to create a debt is capable of originating something new - since, without an affirmative desire to create a debt, there is no debt. It is precisely the state of mind - this type of state of mind - which brings the obligation into existence. On the other hand, the state of mind that functions to pay a debt is merely going along with a situation not of its own making. It is possible, after all, to collect a debt from a person against his will and without his knowledge, so, even when a person willingly pays a debt, his mind is merely acknowledging the reality of a situation external to it. In no way can his mind be said to be originating a situation of payment.

This example illustrates that the state of mind at play when an obligation is created and the state of mind at play when an obligation is discharged involve two distinct aspects of the intellect. We will refer to them as the Originative Intellect and the Consentive Intellect. The distinction between these two forms of intellect is precisely what differentiates between the state of mind that functions in the realm of the seven Noachide laws and the state of mind that functions in the realm of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments.

The state of mind that functions in the realm of the seven Noachide laws represents the Consentive Intellect. It does no more than rubber-stamp a pre-existing situation, since the intellect played no role in originating the obligations of the seven Noachide laws - they were not conditioned on any prior dialogue between Hashem, who gave them, and mankind, upon whom they were imposed. The state of mind that functions in the realm of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, however, represents the Originative Intellect, since it was only by virtue of the mind’s power that the imperatives and obligations of the commandments were put into place. They could not have come to be without a prior affirmative decision to accept the commandments.

To appreciate the full implications of the difference between these two forms of intellect we must reflect on how each conforms to the system of commandments to which it corresponds. Let us explain.

Our Sages teach (Kiddushin 39b), with respect to the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, that “there is not a single commandment in the Torah... whose effects are not felt during the era of the resuscitation of the dead”. The true reward for performing the commandments is not in this world, but in the world-to-come; the world after the dead are resuscitated. A Jew’s status in the world to come is determined by the extent and quality of his performance of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments, thus these commandments bring the universe into the era of the world-to-come, and shape its form. See Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 9. Thus, the covenant of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments is the covenant of the world-to-come.

It is impossible, however, to advance the world into the era of the resuscitation of the dead through fulfillment of the seven Noachide laws. Hashem’s covenant with Noach guarantees only to preserve the status quo: there will never be a repeat of the flood, there will never be another world-wide purge; never again will the laws that maintain nature be suspended. The difference between the function of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments and that of the seven Noachide laws is that the six-hundred and thirteen bring into being a new world order based on life without death, whereas the seven Noachide laws serve merely to perpetuate the prevailing state of affairs.

This is how, as we said, each of the two forms of intellect conforms to the system of commandments to which it corresponds. Since the purpose of the six-hundred and thirteen is to establish a new world order, this system of commandments is contingent on the Originative Intellect and could not have been imposed without its involvement - without the involvement of the state of mind that creates a new state of affairs. But since the purpose of the seven Noachide laws is to preserve that which already exists, this system of commandments is not contingent on the Originative Intellect - the seven Noachide laws were not prefaced by an affirmative decision to accept them. These commandments are contingent rather on the Consentive Intellect, which comes into play after the commandments are imposed, since the only decision in the domain of the Consentive Intellect is whether or not to carry out an existing obligation after the fact of its imposition, not whether or not to be bound by the obligation in the first place. The opportunity to decide whether or not to accept the seven Noachide laws was never offered.

It should be obvious that the relationship between the system consisting of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments and the Originative Intellect applies not only to the covenant of Sinai - where the role of the Originative Intellect is explicit - but to every covenant associated with the Torah and its commandments. We speak here in terms of the covenant of Sinai since it is the starting point of all such covenants and thus serves as the paradigm for all subsequent, related covenants. Each of these covenants, in its own way, is a product of the Originative Intellect, and none of these covenants could have come to be without a prior affirmative decision to be bound by it, on the part of those destined to be bound by it. For, each of these covenants, in its own way, further cements the association, created at Sinai, between the Jewish nation and the Torah. And the basis of this association is the fact that, as noted earlier, “there is not a single commandment in the Torah whose effects are not felt during the era of the resuscitation of the dead”. The defining characteristic of the association between the Jewish nation and the Torah is the ability to originate the new world order of the era of the resuscitation of the dead and the world-to-come. It is therefore essential that the aspect of the intellect functioning in the realm of this association be originative, not merely acquiescent and consentive.

The upshot of the foregoing discussion is that there is a direct correspondence between a covenental bond and the aspect of the intellect that pertains to the bond. Since the distinctive feature of Noach’s seven-commandments bond is staving off destruction and preserving the status quo it pertains to the aspect of the intellect that deals with reactive decisions. This aspect of the intellect can react to the bond either by submitting to its demands and agreeing to carry them out, or by opposing its demands and failing to carry them out. But in no way can it be claimed, in this case, that the intellect engendered the bond, since the nature of the bond itself is merely preservative, not creative. The distinctive feature of the Jewish nation’s Torah bond, on the other hand, is to originate a new world order. So it pertains to the aspect of the intellect that deals with proactive decisions - the aspect of the intellect without which that covenental bond could not originally have come into existence.

This principle is a cornerstone of Jewish philosophical and ethical thought.

Now we are prepared to understand the simple meaning of the verse which proclaims, “Behold, I have set before you... the good... and the bad”. “Before you”. Specifically, “Before you” - the Jewish nation. We found this astounding; the ability to choose freely between good and evil is in no way limited to the Jewish nation. The correct interpretation of this verse, however, lies in what we are saying. The verse must be understood not as a reference to simple free choice but as an exhortation with accompanying explanation: the exhortation is in the form of a reminder of the exalted and awesome status attached to fulfillment of the Torah and its commandments (“life... death”). The explanation - the reason we are well-advised to heed the exhortation - is contained in the words, “I have set before you”. The verse does not refer to the alternatives of fulfilling the commandments on the one hand and violating them, on the other, as we might have thought. Rather, the reference is to the fact that the Torah and commandments themselves became binding as a result of an intellectual decision. In other words, the reference in the verse is to the initial choice set before the Jewish nation regarding whether or not to permit themselves to become bound by the Torah in the first place, not to a choice - after the Torah was accepted - regarding whether or not to fulfill already-binding commandments.

Entry into the covenant of the commandments was by way of an intellectual decision portending the entry. And since the covenant of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments was engendered by the intellect, fulfillment of those commandments must itself possess the power to engender a new world order based on a new set of premises and with new modes of thought. The verse is in effect saying, “Your actions have life-and-death repercussions in the new world order, because they stem from the Originative Intellect, with which you bound yourself to the Torah and commandments (I have set before you...). Be sure to act in a manner such that the repercussions are positive! (Choose life)”

This choice is truly, exclusively, before you - the Jewish nation. The intent is to explicitly exclude the covenental bond of Noach and the seven commandments, since only the covenental bond that originated through the intellect has the power to itself originate new modes of thought; to bring into existence the new modes of thought appropriate to the world-to-come. The covenant of the seven Noachide laws is powerless to bring into existence new modes of thought because it was imposed independent of the intellect.

As we said, this verse is an exhortation with accompanying explanation: “Behold, I have set before you today life and death; the good course and the bad course... you should choose life.”

The astute reader will appreciate how neatly the contrast between the physical manifestations of Noach’s and Avrohom’s covenants meshes with the distinction between Noach’s covenant, itself, and the Torah covenant, itself. The physical manifestation of Noach’s covenant is the rainbow (Beraishis 9:12); of Avrohom’s covenant, the rite of circumcision (Beraishis 17:11). Note that, as the Ramban explains, the rainbow was not specially created at the time the covenant of Noach was consummated, for the express purpose of serving as its symbol, but had been in existence since Creation. At the time of Noach’s covenant it was merely conscripted to symbolize that covenant. This fits beautifully with the substance of our present discussion.

The physical manifestations of the two covenants differ, in precisely the same manner as the covenants themselves differ in their essence. As we explained, the essential difference between the covenants is that Noach’s covenant represents no more than a preservation of the status quo, while Avrohom’s covenant represents an ongoing participation in the construction of a new world-in-formation (The reference is to the new world order of the world-to-come. The previous discussion related the Torah covenant to the formation of this new world order. However, Avrohom’s covenant laid the groundwork for the giving of the Torah to the Jewish nation, so it is considered a subsidiary of the Torah covenant even though it chronologically preceded it.). The difference between the two physical manifestations is along precisely the same lines. The physical manifestation of Noach’s covenant was borrowed from an existing aspect of creation - an aspect which was merely assigned the additional role of covenental symbol. But the physical manifestation of Avrohom’s covenant is the recasting of man into a new form, via circumcision.

In fact, this distinction between the covenant of Noach and that of Avrohom is not only apparent in each covenant’s physical manifestation, it is also explicit in the terminology used by the Torah to describe the respective covenants. The phrase “for generations eternal” is used to describe Noach’s covenant, while “an eternal covenant” is used with respect to Avrohom’s covenant. The word “generations” was deliberately omitted from the description of Avrohom’s covenant because of the originative nature of Avrohom’s covenant.

Noach’s covenant is a preservation of the status quo. It originates nothing and invokes no change in the world’s operation, so every generation relates to it in the same way. The status quo is either preserved or it is not; Noach’s covenant guarantees that it is, for all generations, so each generation has the same “degree” of status quo preservation. The phrase, “for generations eternal”, is appropriate to such a covenant, since the covenant functions on the identical level for each generation. The essence of Avrohom’s covenant, however, is the promise that, through the Jewish nation’s fulfillment of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments of the Torah, a new world order will be created. It is possible, therefore, for this covenant to function on different levels. At times, the full potency of this covenant’s promise is evident; at times, it is concealed. There are epochs of redemption; there are epochs of exile. There are various degrees of exile; there are various degrees of redemption. Different generations relate to the covenant of Avrohom in different ways.

Since by definition the process of creation is dynamic, it need not and does not function at the same level of intensity at all times. But status quo preservation is static; the status quo is an already-quantified entity and preserving it is a matter of preserving a steady state. Thus, the word “generations” was left out of the description of Avrohom’s covenant. It is described in terms of “an eternal covenant” to indicate that this covenant relates generally to the universe, but not individually to each generation. Avrohom’s covenant can only be referred to as “an eternal covenant”.

Section 5 – No definitive proofs: the Torah’s pride and glory

The stage has now been properly set for us to appreciate the full implications of the Ramban’s statement that, in the discipline of Torah study, there is no concept of definitive proof analogous to the procedural proofs of geometry or the empirical proofs of astronomy. This statement does not reflect, as might be thought, a shortcoming in the discipline of Torah study, requiring us to rationalize the absence of the sort of clear-cut evidence, and the conclusive demonstrations of fact, that the device of definitive proof permits to practitioners of disciplines like geometry and astronomy. Not at all; in fact, the most remarkable feature of the discipline of Torah study - its pride and glory - is the very absence of the concept of definitive proof from within its domain!

Let us explain. The distinction between the covenant of Noach and the covenant of Avrohom is brought into sharpest relief in the area of the disciplines of inquiry associated with each covenant - the discipline that deals with reality as viewed through the covenant-of-Noach lens, versus the discipline that deals with reality as viewed through the covenant-of-Avrohom lens. Noach’s covenant guarantees the continuity, as-is, of that which already exists. The discipline of inquiry associated with this facet of reality thus focuses on intellectually comprehending, to the extent possible, the as-is state of the universe. The covenant of Avrohom, on the other hand, deals not with preservation, but with the origination of a new world order. Thus, correspondingly, the discipline of inquiry associated with this covenant deals not with delving into the status quo but with exploring the ways and means of going about the process of originating the new reality that will fructify in the world-to-come, and with attempting to understand the forces at play in this process of origination.

Here we have zeroed in on the crux of “definitive proof” and its application. The character of every discipline’s definitive proof derives from the nature of the reality that the discipline deals with and explores. Each discipline deals with reality from a different angle, and on that basis each discipline gives rise to a specifically applicable proof-system. But all this applies only to disciplines that deal with the here-and-now. The entire concept of definitive proof is alien to the discipline of Torah study, which is distinguished in that it deals with the origination of a future world, and not with the here-and-now. The only “definitive proof”-type test the discipline of Torah study will ultimately be subject to awaits the as-yet nebulous world-to-come. But for the time being, it is impossible for the discipline of Torah study to employ the construct of definitive proof.

This inability, as we said, is its pride and glory. To grant that it is possible for the discipline of Torah study to employ the construct of definitive proof would be to relegate Torah study to the mere status of a discipline that investigates reality, rather than a discipline that originates reality. And the notion that the discipline of Torah study might actually fit into the role of an investigative discipline is a logical impossibility. In the same way it is impossible for the physical representation of the covenant guaranteeing the epoch of the world-to-come to be a rainbow, so, exactly, is it impossible for the construct of definitive proof to exist in the realm of the discipline of Torah study. We cannot symbolize a covenant whose reason for existence is the origination of a new world order, using an existing device, borrowed from the old world order, since this would contradict and thus subvert the very function the covenant is designed to perform.

Section 6 – A Jew masters science: wisdom misplaced

We have reached the point where we may return to, and fully appreciate, the significance of the momentous halachic ruling we spoke of in Section 2: Despite the fact that the presence of the natural sciences, in and of itself, generates an obligation to recite a blessing, if the person who has mastered those sciences happens to be Jewish, his identity disqualifies his knowledge from blessing. We will explain the underlying cause of this disqualification with an example.

There is a restriction that applies to the “spices” blessing, which was enacted to be recited upon encountering a pleasant fragrance: the blessing is recited only in the event that the spices are specifically designated for the purpose of providing olfactory pleasure. If the spices are not specifically designated for that purpose, then no blessing is recited, even if the spices do in fact emit a pleasurable aroma (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 217:2-3). Sensing a pleasant aroma does not generate a blessing obligation unless the aroma emanates from a source whose purpose it is to smell pleasant. The blessing obligation is engendered not by the pleasant aroma per se, but rather by its source’s specific designation for aroma production.

A pleasant aroma that emanates from a source not specifically designated for that purpose is considered incidental. Blessings are required only when the characteristic of the source object that pertains to the blessing is essential. Characteristics that are incidental are not deemed sufficiently significant to require a blessing.

So much for our example. Now, the same principle we saw in connection with aromas, also applies with respect to manifestations of wisdom. The intellect of a Jew is specifically designated for the discipline that creates a new world order - for the study of Torah. If, instead, wisdom dealing with investigating the status quo emanates from a Jewish intellect, it is a case of wisdom misplaced. That form of wisdom, in that intellect, is not essential but incidental. And we have already established the principle that incidental characteristics are not sufficiently significant to require a blessing! It is exactly as if a Jew were to accept a creed based on a belief that there will be no repetition of the flood, instead of on a belief in resuscitation of the dead, and attempted to fulfill his religious obligations through the covenant of the rainbow instead of through the covenant of circumcision.

Section 7 – Relating to a source versus relating to a consequence

.rut vtrb lrutc ohhj ruen lng hf “For the source of life is in Your domain; with Your light, we see light (Tehillim 36:10).” Let us attentively reflect on the fundamental message of this pronouncement. It is possible to perceive light in two different ways - either by seeing objects that are illuminated by the light, or, not by seeing objects, but by beholding the light source itself. The first way, our perception of the light is oblique. The second way, our perception of the light is direct. The first way, we perceive the light as a by-product since all we actually see are the objects it illuminates. The second way, we perceive the light source first-hand.

The declaration that, “with Your light, we see light” is intended to exclude the first way from consideration. It teaches us that we must perceive Hashem’s light not via secondary indicators of its existence, but rather via first-hand encounter. In other words, the phrase should be understood as, “with [respect to] Your light, we [must] see [the] light”. Why? Because “the source of life is in Your domain”; since You are the source of life, our perception of Your light has to be source-oriented. Were we to perceive Your light by “seeing illuminated objects”, so to speak, our perception would be oblique and thus not suited to the Life-Source. Because “the source of life is in Your domain”, we must perceive Your light in a source-oriented manner.

It is important to realize that this principle forms the basis for the words, cited at the beginning of this Ma’amar, referring to the lights of the Chanukah Menorah: “These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”. The Sages who authored the HaNeiros HaLalu prayer did so with the verse, “with Your light, we see light”, in mind. The underlying meaning of the “These lights are sacred...” phrase is that the lights of the Chanukah Menorah burn in order that their light be perceived in its own right, as a source, not through the secondary effect of their illumination of the surrounding area. “We are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”.

Why were the lights of the Chanukah Menorah singled out to embody the message of the “with Your light, we see light” verse? Because the Chanukah lights commemorate our liberation from the Greek exile. The Greek exile is unique in that its primary objective is to subordinate the discipline of Torah study to the secular disciplines of inquiry. This attempt at subordination has many aspects - and one of them takes the form of an intense pressure to address the audacious charge that our discipline is inferior to theirs in that it lacks the device of definitive proof. The surest way to knock the underpinnings out from under this audacious charge, and thereby free ourselves from its pressure, is to clearly understand that the discipline of Torah study is not an outgrowth of the reality it deals with, as are the secular disciplines, but rather the source of a new, yet-to-be-realized reality. It is for this reason alone that definitive proofs are absent from the discipline of Torah study. In this light the discipline of Torah study is a wellspring, which must be perceived directly, and not second-hand, through its after-effects, which is essentially how “definitive proof” operates.

The premises which the natural sciences draw upon to construct “definitive proofs” are all based on observation of the physical world as it stands. This is because the natural sciences are no more than an attempt to understand the pre-existing laws of nature. Establishing laws of nature is outside the realm of natural science, and the very concept of “definitive proof” is inapplicable when a new world order is under construction and its laws of nature are in the process of first being defined. The exalted role of creating the new world order - the world order of the world-to-come - belongs exclusively to the discipline of Torah study. Thus, its lack of definitive proof is a badge of honor, to be worn with pride, not a badge of shame.

The purpose of the Chanukah lights is to reflect the “lights” of redemption - the redemption of the discipline of Torah study from its “exile”; its subordination to the secular disciplines. By definition, then, these lights of redemption are effective only to the extent that they cause us to sense the originative quality of the Torah.

“For the source of life is in Your domain; with Your light, we see light.”

[And therefore...]

“These lights are sacred, so we are not permitted to make use of them [to illuminate other objects]; we are only permitted to view them”.

Question 2 Answer: Section 6

Putting the Yetzer Horah In Its Place: An Exposition on Vidui from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17)

Putting the Yetzer Horah In Its Place: An Exposition on Vidui from the Torah of Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l (Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17)

Adapted By Eliakim Willner

Eliakim Willner is author of “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaTorah: An Appreciation of Torah Study”, a translation with commentary of a work by the Maharal of Prague, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. He is currently working on a continuation of the Nesivos Olam series, “Nesivos Olam – Nesiv HaAvodah: The Philosophy and Practice of Prayer”.

Vidui – A Return to Pre-Sin Odom

We know that vidui, confession, is a necessary component of the teshuva process; we learn this from the verse (Bamidbar 5:7), “they shall confess the sin they committed…”, which appears in the Torah section dealing with theft from a convert. [Someone who steals from a convert who has no descendants and who dies before the contrite thief can make restitution must confess his sin and pay back what he stole, plus a fine, to a kohen. This law serves as a paradigm for all baalei teshuva; to do a proper teshuva they must confess the sin that they committed as part of their teshuva process.]

There is, however, another form of vidui, which is not a part of a teshuva process and which also has a biblical source. The source for this form of vidui is the verse dealing with the vidui of the high priest, the kohen gadol, during the Yom Kippur service, which states (Vayikra 16:11), “and he shall atone, v’chiper, for himself and for his household”. The Gemara (Yoma 36b) explains that atonement in this context is accomplished not through animal sacrifice, which was the usual way of achieving atonement in the Bais HaMikdash, but through words – that is, through vidui, through a verbal confession.

We see from this Gemara that vidui has an innate power to trigger atonement even when it is not accompanied by the other accoutrements of the general teshuva process, and, moreover, this form of vidui has its own name, kaporas devarim – “verbal atonement” – and does not fall under the general rubric of “vidui”.

There is another remarkable aspect to verbal atonement, and that is, that although the function of “standard vidui” is to articulate the other teshuva components, such as a specification of the transgression for which forgiveness is sought, an expression of regret for committing it, and an undertaking never to repeat it; so as to draw them out of the heart, where they originate, into the open, verbal atonement is different in that it consists of nothing more than a bald statement of the transgression.

In truth, though, the characteristics of this unique form of vidui teach us something that is applicable to vidui in general as well. To understand what this is and how it works, we have to first understand what it is about vidui that enables it to achieve atonement at all, keeping in mind that its sometimes has the power to achieve atonement even when it is standalone and none of the other components of repentance are present. (Indeed, the Gemara referenced earlier gives verbal atonement the same status as sacrificial atonement. Normally when the Torah uses the word v’chiper, “and he shall atone”, it refers to animal sacrifice, but the Gemara does not hesitate to define the v’chiper in the context of the verse in Vayikra 16:11 as verbal atonement. By allowing the substitution the Gemara is implicitly saying that the effect of the two forms of v’chiper are the same.)

So, how does vidui, a mere verbal articulation of an offense, achieve atonement?

Our Sages taught us that the original sin of Odom and Chava caused the forces of evil to infiltrate man’s psyche and insinuate themselves into the very root of his soul, fundamentally changing man’s nature, and his relationship to the forces of evil, from their creation-original state. Our Sages (Shabbos 146b) describe this change of state with the phrase, “the primordial snake violated Chava and contaminated her with foulness”.

Sages versed in the hidden aspects of Torah (See Nefesh HaChaim, 1:6 in the first note) explain that this contamination with foulness marked the beginning of a new stage in the history of man, characterized by the muddling of good and evil. Evil existed before this, but it was sharply defined and easily recognized, since it was external to man; our Sages compared it to a dog, confined to the outdoors and howling at the people indoors. No one would confuse the dog with the people inside the house and similarly, no one, pre-primordial sin, would have confused the advice of the evil inclination, the yetzer horah, with the advice of the good inclination, the yetzer hatov.

After the sin, however, evil lives in man like a cancerous growth whose cells are intermingled with, and often hard to distinguish from, healthy cells. To the extent, then, that man does manage to isolate evil, forcibly eject it from himself, and externalize it, to that extent man moves himself closer to the state of Odom before he tasted sin. In other words, he moves himself closer to Hashem’s original plan for the optimum state of man, since the original sin was not “supposed” to happen. Vidui is no more or less than an ejection of, and an externalization, of sin! Vidui is a bald statement of the transgression; that statement is an “outing” of evil; an exorcism that, in a certain sense, extracts the evil of that sin from the person, exposing it to the cold light of day, and moving the person that much closer to the state of Odom pre-sin, when all evil was external.

This is the source of vidui’s power to achieve atonement. Forcing sin from the depths of the soul, where it had been hiding, to the openness of verbal expression, is akin to sifting out evil from the mishmash with holiness where it had been hiding, and vomiting it out to stand in isolation.

Exposure and Expulsion

We know that part of teshuva is expunging evil and separating it from the oneself from the words of a Tanna in the Gemara (Yoma 86b) who says that one should not re-confess sins next year that have already been confessed this year. Rabbeinu Yonah declared this to be the halacha, (Shaarei Teshuva 4:21) on the grounds that re-confessing gives the appearance of a lack of faith in the power of teshuva to eradicate sin – why would a person confess a second time if he truly believed that the first confession was effective?

However, the aforementioned Gemara characterizes re-confessing as being comparable to, “As a dog returns to his vomit, so does a fool repeat his folly” (Mishlei 26:11). The idea is that someone who returns to his confession is like a dog returning to his vomit; like a fool returning to his folly. The comparison does not make sense according to Rabbeinu Yonah’s understanding of the Gemara. According to Rabbeinu Yonah the reason re-confessing is prohibited is because it shows a lack of faith in the power of teshuva. However the comparison to the verse in Mishlei implies that the problem has to do with the returning itself, not with what the returning shows. Thus this Maamar presents an alternative understanding of the problem with re-confessing that fits better with the Mishlei verse.

In light of our understanding that vidui is an expulsion of sin, though, it makes a lot of sense. As we explained, the purpose of vidui is to transfer the sin from inside the person to outside him; an uprooting of the evil of the sin from its parasitic existence within a person’s soul. In that sense vidui is similar to taking food that has already been enjoyed and digested, and regurgitating it. The sinner enjoyed the “forbidden fruit” of sin while he was “eating” it – that is, while he was engaged in the act of sinning – and the evil of the sin was “digested” into his being. Afterwards, though, he felt remorseful, so he “regurgitated” the sin from himself through vidui, analogous to the vomiting out referenced in the verse.

The Gemara’s comparison of vidui to the regurgitation of food is a clear indication that vidui itself is a process of expunging something hidden inside him into the light of day.

A further indication that points to our definition of vidui: The antithesis of vidui is called mechaseh p’sha’av, “concealment of transgression” derived from the verse in Mishlei 28:13. To conceal is the opposite of to expose. Thus exposure is the factor in vidui that achieves atonement. And why is this? It is because exposure disentangles the sin-induced mélange of good and evil, and places the sin in isolation; in essence it is, to a degree, a reversal of the contamination of Chava with foulness. Vidui expunges that contamination from the body, and that brings a person closer to the ideal state of man, before Odom ate from the Tree of Knowledge, when he was free of the freeloading yetzer horah residing in his person.

This, then, is how the power of exposure achieves atonement. Exposing sin by confessing it aloud – vidui – is deemed an expulsion of the evil of sin from its embedment within a person’s psyche.

The Enemy Inside, and the Enemy Outside

This provides us a starting point for understanding the difference between the approach to sin avoidance of the penitent, the baal teshuva, and that of those who are righteous-from-the-start (for a particular aveira). The baal teshuva relates to his yetzer horah as one would relate to a hostile opponent, intent on swallowing him up. He calls on Hashem to be his witness that will not sin, much as a plaintiff would call on a witness in a dispute with a second party. This is clear from the Rambam (Hilchos Teshuva 2:2) who writes “What constitutes teshuva, repentance?  … And He who knows the hidden, will testify concerning him that he will never return to this sin again”, and the Kesef Mishna explains, “He must call upon Hashem to bear witness that he will never repeat this sin…”.

However the righteous-from-the-start relates to the yetzer horah as a person engaged in a struggle with himself. To fortify himself against sinning he takes an oath to his Creator, per the Gemara in Nedarim 8b, that he will not succumb to temptation. This is a mechanism that does not involve a second party at all.

Again, the baal teshuva relates to his yetzer horah as one would relate to an outside hostile opponent, intent on swallowing him up, whereas the righteous-from-the-start relates to the yetzer horah as a person engaged in a struggle with himself.

The reason for the difference, we now understand, is that someone who is righteous-from-the-start has never tasted vidui and therefore has never had the opportunity to banish the yetzer horah embedded in him to the outside. Since the transgression of Odom, everyone, even someone righteous-from-the-start, has an yetzer horah embedded in their psyche. Nonetheless, someone who is righteous-from-the-start has never had an opportunity to recite vidui since vidui can only be done after a person actually sins – since it is a confession of sin – and this person has never actually sinned. Thus the yetzer horah remains bottled up inside him and he must relate to it as a part of himself.

The yetzer horah started out within the recesses of his soul and remained there. His battle with it is a battle between one part of his self – the part that wants to resist sin – and another part of his self – the yetzer horah, that wants to draw him to sin.

This is not the case with the baal teshuva, who has experienced vidui, and who has, as the Gemara said, spat out the evil from within himself. His battle is now, in a manner of speaking with something external to him. The enemy he must attack has an independent existence; it is like the howling dog mentioned earlier.

Shma and the Baal Teshuva

“Listen, Yisroel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is one” (Devarim 6:4). Our Sages teach us (Yerushalmi Brachos 1:5) that this verse contains affirmations of the first two of the aseres hadibros (Devarim 5:6). When we say, “Hashem is our G-d” we are affirming the first commandment, which begins, “I am Hashem, your G-d”. When we say, “Hashem is one” we are affirming the second commandment, which begins, “You shall not have other gods…”.

It is worth looking into why the affirmations of the Shma verse appear in Parshas V’eschanan, after the contents of the second luchos are presented in the Torah. This implies that an affirmation was only necessary after the second set of luchos was presented. Why delay the affirmation until the second set?

Here too, though, the concept that we have been developing in this Maamar comes into play.

The difference between the first and second set of the aseres hadibros is that, while the first set was imparted on the basis of the nation having the status of righteous-from-the-start, the second set was imparted on the basis of the nation being in a state of repentance; in fact, the second set was first and foremost an instrument of solace for the nation, in recognition of their repentance.

Prior to the giving of the first set of luchos the nation was cleansed of sin and uplifted to the status of Odom before primordial sin. They were given a fresh start, and therefore had the status of righteous-from-the-start. They maintained that rarefied state until the sin of the golden calf, the egel, after which the first set of luchos were destroyed. The second set of luchos were given only after the nation repented.

Now, the words, “Listen, Yisroel” form an imperative statement expressed in second person – that is, directed at an outside party. But immediately, the tense switches to first person, as the verse continues with the words, “Hashem is our G-d”. In other words, the Shma verse is couched in terms of someone who is interacting with himself as one would interact with someone else – with an outside party. This is the signature “baal teshuva” mode of behavior. And that is why Shma is an affirmation of the second set of luchos, in particular.

The Perceptive Nazir

We can see how meticulous our Sages were in their choice of words, in the incident of the Nazir from the south (Nedarim 9b) of whose asham sacrifice Shimon HaTzadik partook, and whom he blessed with the words, “May there be more Nezirim like you in Yisroel!” When the Gemara relates this incident it takes pains to precisely quote the response of this Nazir when he was asked why he accepted Nezirus on himself, as follows:

“I was a shepherd for my father in my city and I went to the spring to draw water. I gazed upon my reflection and my yetzer horah rushed over to me and sought to banish me from the world. I said to him, ‘Evil one! Why are you giving yourself airs by tempting me to sin…?’ [A Nazir must shave his head at the conclusion of his period of Nezirus and the shepherd intended to thereby spoil his good looks and attenuate his temptation to sin.] Upon hearing this, Shimon HaTzadik arose and kissed him on his head and declared, ‘May there be more Nezirim like you in Yisroel!’”

Anyone with an ear attuned to the nuances of the words of our Sages will realize that the kiss and blessing of Shimon HaTzadik were directed not only at the actions of the Nazir, but also at the Nazir’s turn of phrase, which teaches us something new about tactics to use against the yetzer horah. The Nazir emphasized that in the heat of the moment when the yetzer horah threatened to overcome him, at the beginning of his “dialog” with the yetzer horah, he addressed him in the second person, and he continued in this vein when he related the event to Shimon the Righteous, using the words, “I told him…”

He was careful not to say, “I told myself…”. And he continued in this manner when he related the rest of his conversation with the yetzer horah. When he burst out in anger at the yetzer horah, he said, “Evil one! Why are you giving yourself airs in a world that is not yours”. In other words, he continued to deal with the yetzer horah as one would deal with another person, standing opposite him – not in an inward-facing manner, as someone making a personal decision. This mode of interaction with the yetzer horah was part of what impressed Shimon HaTzadik and what impelled Shimon HaTzadik to kiss and bless the shepherd.

A Borrowed Reality

We learned in this Maamar how a baal teshuva and how a righteous-from-the-start person relate to their yetzer horah, and we learned that relating to him as to an outside party is reserved for the baal teshuva. However, it seems that we may have to revise our thinking on this in light of the words of the Nazir. Those words teach us an extraordinary thing. Realize that the Nazir is not a baal teshuva; his battle with the yetzer horah is that of someone who is righteous-from-the-start and who has never indulged in this sin. [From his reaction to the yetzer horah it is apparent that this Nazir never committed the particular sin that the yetzer horah was tempting him with.] Yet his response to the yetzer horah makes it abundantly clear that even someone who is sin-free can relate to the yetzer horah in this way!

We see, then, that, in planning a strategy to defeat the yetzer horah, there is an advantage, even for someone who is righteous-from-the-start, to addressing it as if it were an external party that one can turn to and address as “you”. Otherwise why would the Nazir, who was righteous-from-the-start, address him in this way, rather than in the introspective manner that is more natural for someone in that category?

The key difference between this strategy in the hands of a baal teshuva and in the hands of a righteous-from-the-start person, is that for the baal teshuva, this strategy is reality, since the baal teshuva took an action that actually ejected, expelled and spat the yetzer horah out and away from himself. But the righteous-from-the-start has to visualize the yetzer horah outside himself, since he never took an action to make that expulsion a reality.

Nonetheless, there is value to using the imagination in this way, just as there is value to “always visualize oneself as hanging in the balance between conviction in the Heavenly court and acquittal” (Kiddushin 40b). If a person continually views his fate as hanging in the balance he will realize that a single good action could tip the balance in his favor while a single bad action could tip the balance in the other direction. Now, most people are not actually hanging in the balance, but they are being advised to imagine themselves in this state as motivation to seek out mitzvos and avoid transgressions.

In the same way, it is legitimate to visualize the yetzer horah as being outside oneself, even if he is not, since that makes it easier to “talk your way out of” transgressing.

Moreover, while it is true that this visualization is imaginary, for the righteous-from-the-start – unlike the situation of the baal teshuva, for whom relating to the yetzer horah as something external is very real – it is not, strictly speaking, a lie, because when man was first created, the yetzer horah was, in fact, external to him. This is the natural state of man, and it changed only because of the original sin. Therefore, when man is at the pinnacle of his greatness – when he is in the throes of subduing his yetzer horah, and can visualize it as being external to himself – he is throwing himself back to man’s originally intended state, where the yetzer horah really was external to him. There is imagination at play here, but no falsehood.

In fact, we can go so far as to say that just as, per our Sages (Yoma 29b), fantasizing about sin is worse, in a sense, than actually sinning, so might we also say that at times, dreams of holiness are better than acts of holiness.

Reality generally falls short of the dream. When we dream, whether for good or for bad, the object of our desire is perfect and without blemish and our ardor is never dampened, as it might be when we are faced with the reality of an imperfect world. In this sense, the righteous-from-the-start, who is visualizing his third-party confrontation with the yetzer horah, may actually has an advantage over the baal teshuva, who has to deal with him in reality.

May we all merit dreaming of holiness in these yimai hadin, and may we all merit achieving it!

An adaptation into English of the full text of Pachad Yitzchok, Yom Kippur Maamar 17 can be obtained from the author at eli@eliwillner.com.