Overview of Mishneh Torah Books 5-9

In our previous post we began examining the thematic principles of the fourteen books of the Mishneh Torah, which represent the Rambam's understanding of the broad outlines of the "mitsvah program" and how the laws of the Torah ultimately find their meaning in an interconnected framework of goals and objectives that address the entire range of individual and communal developmental needs. We continue that analysis where we left off:


5. SEFER KEDUSHA: THE BOOK OF HOLINESS

This book includes the mitsvot that pertain to forbidden sexual activities and prohibited foods. The sexual and appetitive drives are powerful forces in the human organism that have the potential to interfere with and even replace spiritual strivings, substituting the base enjoyments for closeness to Hashem, hijacking the energies that would otherwise be channeled by the values articulated in the Book of Knowledge. The mitsvot in this book teach us how to moderate and balance our physical and intellectual enjoyments in a healthy and fulfilling manner.


6. SEFER HAFLAAH: THE BOOK OF EXPRESSION

This book includes the mitsvot that pertain to vows and oaths. Certain individuals may chose to accept additional restrictions upon themselves because they feel – due to some deficiency in their character or make up - that the laws of the Torah are not sufficient for them to achieve holiness. Thus, like a student with special needs who receives individualized instructional support, these individuals need a personalized holiness plan. These individualized plans supplement the program of development that the Torah prescribes for the entire community.

7. SEFER ZERAIM: THE BOOK OF SEEDS

This book includes the mitsvot that pertain to land and agriculture, such as the prohibition of sowing diverse seeds, the laws of charity and gifts to the Kohanim, and the laws of Shemitta. Human society is situated within the natural environment and is ultimately a component of it. Though we dominate our environment to a certain extent, we are, at the same time, small parts of a Divinely created system. The prohibition of sowing diverse seeds reminds us of the scientific order of Nature that transcends all of our “meddling” with it, as does Shemitta. The commandment to give of our produce to the poor, as well as to the Kohanim and Levites, prevents us from relishing our possessions egotistically and encourages us to use our material resources to support the spiritual growth of our nation. All in all, this book addresses the question of how we can replace the fantastic illusion that we are the true masters of our physical environment with a humble, realistic perspective on our position in the universe.

At this point we observe a key transition in the Mishneh Torah, from a focus on individuals and families to a focus on the nation as a whole. Even if Adam and Eve had never reproduced, they would still have had to balance work, biological drives, agricultural development, etc., with spiritual growth. So the first seven books of the Mishneh Torah would have applied to them fully. Now, however, the Rambam shifts to address mitsvot and themes that are national in character and that are relevant to Jewish society as a whole.

8. SEFER AVODAH: THE BOOK OF DIVINE SERVICE

This book includes the laws related to the construction of the Holy Temple and the performance of the communal sacrifices. Sefer Avodah should be seen as the first installment of a new series. Sefer Avodah is, in a sense, the symbolic counterpart to Sefer Hamada. The ideas in Sefer Hamada comprise the intellectual foundation for all of our spiritual growth. What the Bet Hamikdash does is translate these profound concepts into symbolic and metaphoric terms that are universally accessible to human beings at all levels. The Temple structure, its Kohanim and its services provide a symbolic picture of Jewish philosophy and ethics as outlined in Sefer Hamada. The Torah recognizes that our individual levels of knowledge and perfection all differ, and that each person’s process of spiritual growth is unique, private and constantly in flux. By contrast, national service of G-d must take place in the public arena, and thus be concrete, formal, measurable and consistent.

In reality, all societies must have their “Sefer Hamada” and their “Sefer Avodah”. At the core of our culture is a set of beliefs, values and ideals that consciously or unconsciously guide our thought and behavior. Our schools and universities transmit these beliefs and values directly to children via the lessons they teach. However, the communication of our cultural ideals in the abstract has a limited impact on our citizens. What the vast majority of people are inspired by is the experience of seeing the embodiment of these values “in the flesh”. As an example, let us consider the tremendous significance our society attaches to wealth, glamour and fame. It is one thing to speak about our striving for the “American Dream” in the abstract; it is quite another thing to watch the Academy Awards on television, where we are given the opportunity to ogle living examples of the “good life” that are showcased before our very eyes. Movies and Awards Shows are powerful sources of inspiration for people because they renew their impetus to continue pursuing the American dream in the context of their own lives. Obviously, Torah values share little in common with the American dream, but the psychological mechanism adopted in Jewish society is the same – in the Bet Hamikdash, our “Hollywood”, we showcase concrete examples of the ideal state of human existence (knowledge of and devotion to Hashem) in order to inspire citizens to move closer to it.


9. SEFER KORBANOT: THE BOOK OF SACRIFICES

This book includes the laws that pertain to individual sacrifices. If Sefer Avodah is best understood through comparison to our fascination with celebrities, then Sefer Korbanot is best appreciated by drawing from our experience with “fan clubs.” These are forums that afford us the opportunity to participate in “stardom” at our own level, through establishing a feeling of personal identification and connection with the stars we worship. This desire to affiliate oneself with the Divine, most obviously displayed by “groupies”, often expresses itself in the form of “korbanot” of sorts, including fan mail and other outrageous behaviors that are performed with the hope of receiving some kind of positive response or approval from the recipients of the “worship.” In Jewish terms, individual korbanot are our reactions to Sefer Avodah. In Sefer Avodah we are presented with an ideal vision of Hashem’s providence, the creation, and the highest form of excellence in human conduct. Having witnessed this spectacle, it is incumbent upon us to take a step in the direction of those ideals; the offering of korbanot represents our constant striving toward the “stardom” personified by the kohanim – their knowledge of Hashem and imitation of His ways. We thereby seek our own “niche” within the communal service of G-d.

Overview of the Books of Mishneh Torah

After counting the mitsvot and clarifying the place of Rabbinic legislation in the framework of Torah, the Rambam proceeds to outline the broad thematic structure of the Mishneh Torah. As mentioned in earlier installments of this series, one of the primary thrusts of the Rambam's organizational scheme is the presentation of mitsvot in their proper conceptual context. In addition to articulating the overarching purpose of the Torah system as a whole, the Rambam identifies fourteen distinct developmental objectives that the mitsvot are designed to achieve and which serve, in turn, as instruments to that purpose. These fourteen objectives are crystallized in the names and "crowning" verses of the fourteen volumes that comprise the Mishneh Torah.

The Fourteen Books of the Mishneh Torah

In essence, the Fourteen Books of the Mishneh Torah represent fourteen areas of human existence to which Hashem’s wisdom must be rigorously applied in order for individuals and societies to enjoy true success and fulfillment. After listing the 613 commandments, the Rambam introduces the fourteen domains within which they will be grouped and organized. He gives us the title of each book and a brief synopsis of its theme, because the full force of its message can only be grasped after we see the mitsvot contained within it and how they are elucidated.

At this point, we will suffice ourselves with an overview of the basic thematic elements of each book. And for the sake of brevity and readability, I will divide the discussion of the books over two or three blog posts.


1. SEFER HAMADA: THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

This book identifies and elaborates upon the core values or principles that we use to orient ourselves to the world and that help us define our own identities. It contains mitsvot that pertain to Hashem’s existence and Unity, the prohibitions against idol worship, etc.

2. SEFER AHAVA: THE BOOK OF LOVE

This book includes mitsvot designed to help us “love Hashem and remember Him always”, such as reading the Shema, prayer, tefillin, etc. In our lives, the most powerful experience of love is the love of family and friends. Building upon that analogy, these mitsvot are similar to the placement of family photos in our offices, or phone calls to loved ones that we make throughout the day, simply to “touch base”. We do these things to maintain a connection with the people we value most, even as the pressures of our workaday existence threaten to completely vanquish our attention and energy. In the case of the Book of Love, the beloved being is Hashem rather than another person. Everyday life causes us to lose sight of what is most important, we need to incorporate rituals into our routine that remind us, lest we become disconnected from our core values.


3. SEFER ZEMANIM: THE BOOK OF TIMES

This book includes laws that pertain to Shabbat, Holidays, Fast Days, etc. The main thing that interferes with our ability to grow as human beings is time. We are constantly subject to the demands of the physical world, the need to work and provide for ourselves and our families, etc. As a result, people always seek opportunities for leisure – that is, opportunities to immerse themselves in whatever activity they consider most valuable and desirable. The best example of this is the concept of a vacation – a period of time dedicated to immersion in our choice of pleasures; whether it is sightseeing, drinking, partying, gambling, etc. The essence of a vacation is the removal of the distraction of work in order to facilitate a total involvement with one’s favorite source of enjoyment. Similarly, holidays all have the prohibition of work in common – they all require us to step out of our daily routine and fully devote ourselves to spirituality and the pursuit of deeper understanding for a distinct period of time. Having pictures of a wife and children at the office is no substitute for spending evenings, weekends and holidays with them. In the same way, the periodic reminders of God that are legislated in the Book of Love are necessary for maintaining our connection to Him, but are no substitute for setting aside time to further develop that relationship. We need some quality time with our Beloved.


4. SEFER NASHIM: THE BOOK OF WOMEN

This book includes the mitsvot that pertain to marriage and divorce. Marriage is oftentimes approached from a selfish standpoint and is misconstrued as an institution designed to provide each partner with physical/emotional satisfaction, financial security, etc. This leads to unhealthy marital relationships for the following reason: Since each member of the couple is out for his or her own benefit, interactions between spouses end up consisting of a series of battles to gain control of the household and shape it in accordance with a particular personal agenda.

This is the meaning of the Midrash that states that the word for “man” in Hebrew (Ish) and the word for “woman” (Isha) each contain one letter of the Divine name (yud and heh, respectively). If you remove the letters yud and the heh, you are left with “fire” (Esh). The Rabbis teach us that when a marriage is based upon a common spiritual mission, when it is a partnership designed to realize a shared vision of truth and to transmit it to the next generation through raising children – simply, if Hashem is found in the marriage – then it will be a successful one. Spouses in such a relationship are not seeking to overpower one another for selfish ends. They are working together for a higher purpose.

On the other hand, once such a transcendent motivation is lost – once Hashem is taken out of the marriage – we are left with fire, a substance that consumes and destroys. The “raging flames” of unceasing battles for control and dominance will no doubt devour the household. This is why the Book of Women begins with a discussion of the sanctity of marriage – the Jewish union is not a fly-by-night relationship, it is consecrated to a holy objective and cannot be easily created or dissolved.

An obvious question that presents itself is why this book precedes the Book of Holiness, which deals with sexual prohibitions and forbidden foods. After all, from a chronological perspective, the laws of holiness come into effect sooner, as they apply to us even before marriage. We see from this another proof that the Rambam follows a conceptual, and not necessarily a practical or chronological order in the Mishneh Torah. The Torah deems a human being’s existence incomplete without companionship. We are social animals by nature; therefore, the complete “human entity” is a man and a woman united. The first three books of the Mishneh Torah address a person’s internal intellectual and spiritual development, a matter that is totally private and individualistic. In the fourth book, the Mishneh Torah begins to discuss the physical existence of human beings, something that they share. Once we look at the material side of humanity, we find ourselves dealing with partnerships, not individuals, for “it is not good for man to be alone.” As such, the book which focuses on the creation of the marriage relationship precedes the book that speaks of particular areas of biological function.

This discussion will be continued in the next installment with an examination of books 5-9....

The Concept of Rabbinic “Mitsvot”

We continue our examination of the introduction to the Mishneh Torah. After counting the 613 commandments, the Rambam proceeds to discuss the status of laws and practices that are not included in the 613 but the observance of which is nonetheless binding on the Jewish people. The Rambam notes that the comprehensiveness of the Mishneh Torah demands that it include the Rabbinic mitsvot and customs as well as Biblical laws. Rabbinic commandments, like their Biblical counterparts, require a great deal of elucidation and clarification, and the Rambam promises to provide this in his “textbook”.

At this point, the Rambam addresses the apparent contradiction between the prohibition of adding onto the Torah and the concept of Rabbinic commandments. If we are forbidden to formulate new commandments, how can the Rabbis enact new laws?

The Rambam introduces an important distinction to resolve this problem. He states that it all depends upon the way in which the Rabbinic institutions are presented to the people. Were the Prophets or Rabbis to claim that the laws they promulgate – such as the reading of the Megillah or washing hands before eating bread - have a Biblical source and that they had been revealed by G-d Himself, they would be guilty of violating the injunction against adding to the commandments of the Torah. However, since they honestly admit that these commandments are of Rabbinic origin and that the force of these laws derives from rabbinic authority alone, they are considered to be adding onto the mitsvot at all.

Finally, the Rambam concludes with a fascinating paragraph:

“…Rather, we say that the Prophets, together with the Court, instituted and commanded that the Megillah be read in its proper time – in order to make mention of the praises of the Holy One, Blessed is He, and the salvation he wrought for us, and the fact that He was near when we called out to Him – so that we should bless and thank Him, and in order to make known to future generations that the Torah was accurate when it promised that ‘what other great nation is there, to whom G-d is close, whenever we call out to Him.’ And along the same lines should we understand every Rabbinical commandment, whether it is positive or negative.”


Three fundamental difficulties must be addressed here:

First, why does the Rambam incorporate this discussion – i.e., the resolution of the apparent conflict between the creation of Rabbinic mitsvot and the prohibition of adding to the Torah - into his Introduction? Shouldn’t this kind of abstruse discussion be located somewhere else in the Mishneh Torah? (In fact, the Rambam revisits this issue in the Mishneh Torah when he addresses the authority of the Bet Din in the Book of Judges).

Second, it seems as if the Rambam is using doubletalk to resolve the contradiction he identifies. After all, what difference does it make whether the Rabbis characterize their commandments as Biblical or not; the fact is that they are increasing the number of laws that we are religiously required to observe, thereby adding onto the corpus of Torah legislation. The honesty and forthrightness of the Rabbis in presenting their commandments, although important, does not seem to be relevant to the question of whether they should be viewed as adding to the Torah or not.

Lastly, the Rambam’s final description of the reason for “All Rabbinical commandments, whether positive or negative”, doesn’t seem to be correct. Clearly, not all of the rabbinic laws are related to the idea that G-d responds to us in times of trouble. Laws like the requirement to wash our hands before consuming bread, or make an eruv tavshilin before a holiday, have nothing at all to do with G-d’s providential intercession on our behalf throughout history.

In order to resolve these problems, we must revisit and reflect upon an essential aspect of the Rambam's approach to mitsvot in general. One of the key messages that the Rambam is trying to convey to the readership of the Mishneh Torah is that the mitsvot are meant to be understood in the context of a principle-based conceptual framework and not in superficial or purely concrete terms. This requires looking beyond the practical implications and sensible manifestations of halakhic thought that preoccupy most Jews and considering the abstract structure that is accessible to the mind's eye alone.

Just as the Rambam felt compelled to formulate the lines of demarcation between individual commandments among the 613 in order to preserve the conceptual clarity of the mitsvah system, so too must he emphasize that there is a fundamental difference between rabbinical and biblical mitsvot – the rabbinical mitsvot are not components of the 613 at all, and must not be confused with them. Although they add more material to our religious lives, rabbinical injunctions and commandments are not part of the conceptual structure of the Torah’s legislation – they must be understood separately from it.

Herein lies the Rambam’s unique approach to the problem of “adding on” to the Torah. In his view, this prohibition relates to the study and comprehension of the commandments, not to our practical observance of them. As long as the purity and clarity of the 613 mitsvot is preserved, the additional of countless rabbinical commandments will not impact it. Only when the rabbinical commandments are not clearly identified, and begin to confound and distort our picture of the biblical laws, does their existence become an issue. Provided that they are introduced as rabbinic legislation and are distinguished from the laws of the Torah, they do not come under the rubric of “addition” to Torah law.

(The issue of the Rambam's understanding of the prohibitions of adding to and subtracting from the Torah is an intriguing one that deserves its own post in the future. However, the discerning reader may discover that in the previous paragraph lies the roots of a more elaborate explanation of the Rambam's view and his disagreement with the position advocated by most other Rishonim; see his treatment of these subjects in Hilkhot Mamrim and the commentary of the Raavad for more details.)

The Rambam, however, did not want to leave us with the impression that Rabbinical legislation is promulgated in a vacuum and that, as long as they are honest, the Rabbis can arbitrarily generate as many new laws as they wish. This is why the Rambam makes reference to the “reason” for some of the rabbinic mitsvot. He wishes to illustrate and thus to emphasize that the rabbinic mitsvot are developed based upon Biblical themes that the Rabbis believe need to be underscored, expanded on, etc.

The Rambam exemplifies this with the case of the Rabbinic holidays, which are based upon the Biblical concept of recognizing G-d’s response to prayer in times of national distress. So too, Rambam states, with all of the Rabbinical legislation – it is rooted in the philosophical ideas and directives contained in the Torah itself. Put simply, Rabbinic mitsvot are based upon Biblical themes but are not themselves “Biblical.”

Organization of the Mishneh Torah

This post is a continuation of the ongoing series of introductory posts on the Mishneh Torah of the Rambam. It goes without saying that, in order to understand this installment, one should be familiar with those that preceded it. Unfortunately, the last post was published several months ago, but in reality most of the material is already prepared and, with a bit of dilligence, a more consistent pace of posting can be maintained from hereon in.

Rather than following the order of the Talmud or even his own list of mitsvot, the Rambam organized the Mishneh Torah conceptually or topically. He divided the entirety of the Oral Torah into fourteen books, each of which addresses a broad theme. Within each book are subdivisions or “Halakhot” that discuss component parts of the broad theme in question. Finally, each subdivision is further broken down into chapters and individual laws. A given subdivision may include any number of mitsvot, provided that those mitsvot tie into its specific motif.

By way of example, Rambam mentions that under the heading of “Laws of Idolatry”, which is included in the Book of Knowledge, he has categorized commandments related not only to the actual worship of idols but also to magic, superstition, shaving of the corners of the beard, etc., since all of these commandments are conceptually related to the subject of removing idolatry from our midst. Each one of these commandments, in its own right, targets a highly specific aspect of our attachment to the idolatrous worldview. However, the objective of eliminating idolatry is not an end in and of itself. Ultimately, the purpose of efforts to distance ourselves from materialism, primitivism and supersition is to replace such distorted notions with the true intellectual paradigm of the Torah – hence, the Laws of Idolatry form a part of the Book of Knowledge.

We see, then, that a mitzvah can be “explained” on a number of levels. We can discuss a mitzvah and its interpretation separately from any other commandment. For this, we simply need to know that it is one of the 613 commandments (ex., not shaving the corners of the beard), not a part of one or more than one, so we are sure that we are addressing a complete topic.

The second level is “explaining” the mitzvah in terms of a more general theme into which it fits (ex., the uprooting of idolatrous tendencies, the Laws of Idolatry), together with other mitsvot.

The third level is seeing how those themes are themselves only instruments that operate harmoniously toward the achievement of a grander objective (ex., the establishment of the knowledge-based worldview as the foundation of society, the Book of Knowledge).

Finally, the fourth level is perceiving how the book in question is really only one of the fourteen components of the overall system of Torah and Mitsvot which aims at demonstrating the unity of God's design throughout Creation and enabling mankind to live in accordance with the Divine plan. This overarching goal is articulated most clearly and elegantly in the crowning verses of the Mishneh Torah, which represent the purpose of the 14-Volume work as a whole and were elucidated in great detail in the first installment of this series.

An analogy to the design of the Mishneh Torah can be found in the area of physical wellness. Let us imagine that a doctor provided us with a set of orders encompassed all kinds of different activities: various exercises, specific foods to consume and to avoid, types of music to listen to, books to read, etc. If we wanted to organize this regimen into a “Mishneh Torah” of good living, we would need to analyze the prescribed activities on a variety of levels.

One level of understanding the orders would be grasping the meaning of each individual instruction in its own right. For example, we may examine a particular physical exercise and see that it is designed to increase muscle tone in our biceps (this is analogous to studying a specific mitzvah).

The second level would be seeing how this exercise, together with other routines and proper diet, fits into the broader category of “establishing and/or maintaining physical health” (this is analogous to viewing mitsvot from the vantage point of an “inyan”, or subject, like Laws of Idolatry).

The third level would be understanding how physical health combines with emotional health (which has its own subdivisions and “mitsvot”) to generate “wellness” in the holistic sense of the term (this is analogous to viewing mitsvot from the level of a “sefer” or book, like the Book of Knowledge).

The fourth and final level would be seeing how achieving and maintaining wellness is really only one of the many components of a satisfying human life. There also need to be routines that develop intellectual potential, social skills, etc. (This is analogous to viewing mitsvot from the perspective of the Mishneh Torah as a unified whole).

As we have seen in previous posts and can perceive even more clearly now, the purpose of Mishneh Torah is to explain the mitsvot, not simply catalogue the specific rules and regulations of Judaism. Therefore, before the Mishneh Torah can be understood, one must be able to identify the mitsvot clearly and accurately. Once this has been accomplished, the process of interpretation and classification at all four ‘levels’ can begin. The result of thorough understanding of the mitsvot will be consistent, meaningful and valid halachic practice.

When I finally started posting on this blog last year, I began by presenting a series of mini-lectures on the Mishneh Torah in which I discussed its importance and distinctiveness as a guide to understanding the Oral Torah. With gratitude to Hashem, I continue that series with the current post.

I would encourage interested readers who are unfamiliar with the three posts from 2007 to take a few minutes to explore them. I would also encourage those who did read the initial posts to review them, since much of what will be discussed here and in future installments will be building upon that foundation.


What's In A Count?

In order to ensure that the Mishneh Torah would be comprehensive, the Rambam needed to compile a list of the 613 commandments of the Torah. This would enable him to incorporate each and every mitzvah into the Mishneh Torah in its proper place. When he approached the task of listing the mitsvot, though, he revisited a subject that had greatly pained him for a long time; namely, that all of the popular books that claimed to present the 613 mitsvot had done a terrible job of counting them!

In particular, he criticizes the methods of the Baal Halachot Gedolot (“Bahag”), who committed blatant and grievous errors in his count but was nonetheless followed, more or less, by all subsequent authors on the subject. Rambam laments the failure of the Bahag to count the mitsvot properly, characterizing it as a fulfillment of the prophecy that one day “a book will be given to a knowledgeable person and he will be told ‘please read this’ but he will respond “I cannot, for it is sealed’.

Since the incorrect view of the Bahag was so popular, the Rambam could not simply present his own list. Therefore, he composed the Sefer Hamitsvot, in which he describes, proves and applies his own method of counting the mitsvot.

The key question to deal with is this - what difference does it make how we count the mitsvot? As long as we have a catalogue of all of the laws and regulations we must observe, and we can differentiate between laws that carry Biblical authority and those that are Rabbinical, what significance does identifying the 613 commandments really have?

The Uniqueness of Rambam’s Approach

Here we find an aspect of the Rambam’s work as an expositor that is truly unique. As he states in the very beginning of the Introduction to Mishneh Torah, the Oral Torah is an explanation of the mitsvot. When we study Torah, our objective is to comprehend the commandments fully and accurately. For this purpose, it is not sufficient to have the right practical conclusions if our conceptual knowledge remains incomplete.

In order to explain the mitsvot, we must first identify them. If we group several activities together as one “mitzvah” when they are in reality more than one, or, conversely, if we separate one mitzvah into multiple ones, then our understanding of the principles of the mitsvot in question will necessarily be flawed.

By way of analogy, imagine you were presented with a box full of puzzle pieces and instructed to put them together. Unbeknownst to you, the box actually contains pieces from two different puzzles, or perhaps one whole puzzle and half of another one. Your attempt to fit the various pieces together will either be very forced or totally futile. The same insurmountable challenge would face you if only a half or three quarters of the puzzle pieces were available and you assumed that you had all of them in front of you.

When it comes to mitsvot, the same is the case. We all know that it is forbidden to perform creative activity (melacha) on Shabbat, and that there are thirty-nine distinct categories of behavior that are classified as melacha. If we were to suppose that the prohibition of work on Shabbat is in fact 39 separate commandments rather than one commandment with 39 categories of violation, then we would end up trying to explain each one of the melachot independently of the others as its own system of law with its own principles and objectives. This would lead to a complete misunderstanding of how the laws of Shabbat actually work. The same would be true if we tried to explain each one of the four species of Sukkot as an independent commandment rather than viewing all four as component parts of a single performance.

Combining separate mitsvot is also an error because it blurs the distinction between different commandments. This would be the case if we, for example, adopted the view that the teffilin of the arm and the teffilin of the head are two parts of the same mitzvah rather than two separate commandments. In summary, our understanding of how a mitzvah works and what its purpose is will be impaired if we fail to count the mitsvot properly.

(We see analogies to this situation in the world of science all the time. Scientists often discover that forces, entities, etc., that they once believed to be unrelated are in fact two aspects or dimensions of one thing. Alternatively, they may realize that a phenomenon they thought was simple is in fact the product of multiple forces operating in a given set of circumstances. If we believe, as most did before Isaac Newton introduced his theory, that the principles of gravitation are unique to this planet and that the sun, stars, etc., follow different laws of physics, then we will be forced to devise two separate sets of scientific explanations: one for the motions observed in the heavens and another for those observed on earth. By contrast, when we study psychology, we find that one behavior can actually represent multiple ‘forces’ within a personality; in other words, what seems to be a unity is actually the result of the convergence and confluence of separate factors. Someone unaware of this fact might try to find a single motive that will explain a person’s actions rather than taking the time to consider the complex web of emotions and interests that might be at work below the surface. Put simply, the number of things we think we are explaining will influence the kinds of explanations we offer.)

The Difference Between Mishneh Torah and Shulhan Aruch

This attitude of the Rambam highlights the difference between his code and the Shulhan Aruch of R’ Yosef Karo. Both Rabbis, sensing the problem of the multiplicity of Jewish legal opinions, sought to simplify and systematize the laws of the Torah in a single text. The Rambam envisioned his objective as primarily conceptual – that is, he intended to present a complete understanding of the mitsvot in the Mishneh Torah. This required him to tackle philosophical and purely theoretical subjects with the same seriousness and care as issues of practical law. For the Rambam, consistent, correct practical application is a natural result of proper comprehension.

By contrast, R Yosef Karo aimed at providing an exclusively practical guide to Jewish observance. For this reason, he didn’t involve himself in issues such as counting the mitsvot or addressing areas of Torah that are not applicable in the modern world (ex., matters related to the Temple or sacrifices).

In the next installment of this series, we will explore the structure of the Mishneh Torah and what it reveals about the Rambam's approach to Torah study in general.

Rambam on Hametz III

We left off in our last post with the following difficulty:

If the Rambam indeed believes that the halakhot governing hametz on Passover require their own separate derivations from Scripture, why does he then see fit to learn two of these laws from the same verse?

As I mentioned in the conclusion of that post, this question is ultimately linked to another one:

We have offered reasons why the prohibition of hametz should be understood as starkly different from other Forbidden Food prohibitions, and why its regulations cannot be derived from the rules that apply to non-kosher items in general. We emphasized the distinctive nature of the hametz laws and explained that, without the special Scriptural derivations, we would have likely assumed that abstention from hametz did not involve restrictions on benefit, etc. So why is it that the Torah decided to impose such restrictions anyway? What insight can we glean from the ultimate inclusion of these additional rules in the context of hametz and matzah, despite compelling reasons to assume otherwise?

All of this confusion revolves around the peculiarities of a single phrase, "hametz shall not be eaten".What is the significance of this verse in the Rambam's treatment of the prohibition of hametz?

We have already established that, unlike other forbidden foods whose prohibition is designed to regulate or restrict the instinctual drives in human beings, hametz serves a totally different function - abstention from leaven is intended to remind us of the themes and lessons of the Exodus. While we understand the role of a prohibition on benefit or on consuming even minute quantities of forbidden foods when the goal is placing limitations on bodily impulse, it is harder to see the objective of these rules when we are dealing with hametz, which is prohibited not because it is enjoyable but because it represents a certain concept or idea.

The answer lies in the nuance of the verse, "it shall not be eaten". The Torah is teaching us that a prohibition of benefit need not be limited to cases in which physical enjoyment is the focus. Deriving benefit from a food is not only about the experience of sensual pleasure had by the beneficiary; it is also an activity that lends value and significance to the food itself.

When we utilize an object for a beneficial purpose, we demonstrate that the object is important to us, that we perceive it as a worthwhile possession. Hence, on Pesah, when we are commanded to repudiate and nullify hametz altogether, benefiting from it must also be prohibited. 'It shall not be eaten', written in the passive form, means that hametz as an object should not be related to as a source of pleasure, as an entity of value.

For the same reason, the Torah prohibits even the slightest amount of hametz from being consumed. True, from the perspective of the individual, eating such a small quantity of hametz would hardly interfere with his adoption of the "matzah framework" of Passover. Intellectually and emotionally, abstaining from the consumption of hametz in its most obvious forms might be sufficient to keep him engaged in the Pesah experience.

However, from the standpoint of totally rejecting hametz as an object of importance, it is necessary to avoid even a trace of the substance for the duration of the holiday. Anything less than an absolute withdrawal from hametz would, in this regard, be insufficient, since an attribution of any value the hametz whatsoever would thwart the ultimate purpose of the law. This is not about limiting enjoyment as per the laws of kashrut; it is about highlighting the essential principles of the Passover holiday through the repudiation of hametz.

Why does proper observance of Pesah hinge upon denying any significance to hametz? Why does the Torah formulate our commemoration of the Exodus in this unusual manner?

At the time that our ancestors first tasted freedom, the potential existed that the Jewish people might lapse into self-indulgent luxuriating and become yet another materialistic culture. Departing from Egypt in haste reminded the Jews that their liberation had a purpose - to transform them into a nation consecrated not to the pursuit of luxury and the worship of human power, but to the recognition and service of a transcendent God.

We work to internalize this lesson each year by adopting matzah, the bread of affliction and servitude, as our staple food, precisely as we reflect upon and express our gratitude for the blessing of freedom. By so doing, we demonstrate our desire to utilize our resources not for selfish gratification but in the service of the noble spiritual mission for which Hashem selected us.

In order to accomplish the transition to matzah, we must systematically rid ourselves and our domains of all hametz, separating ourselves from the bread of wealth and comfort that represents the central focus of the materialistic culture from which we struggle to be liberated. For matzah to become our staple food for the week, its arch competitor for our affections, hametz, must be put out of commission altogether. Withdrawing ourselves from any involvement with hametz is our way of preventing it from making its alluring presence felt throughout the holiday and compromising the relationship we establish with matzah.

If we truly mean to reject hametz for the duration of Pesah, it is not sufficient to abstain from consuming and owning it in its fully constituted form. We must also restrain ourselves from attributing any significance to it whatsoever. Halakhically, we accomplish this feat by disallowing the derivation of any benefit from hametz, and by prohibiting the consumption of even the slightest quantity of it on Passover. All of this is learned, as the Rambam teaches, from the words "hametz shall not be eaten".

Rambam on Hametz II

In the previous post, we identified several difficulties with the Rambam's formulation of the basic prohibitions of hametz on Pesah. At the conclusion of that post, we summarized our problems as follows:

1) Why does the Rambam treat the halakhot of hametz independently of the laws of Forbidden Foods in general, deriving the details of the laws of Passover from Torah verses rather than simply applying the preexistent laws of kashrut to the special case of hametz?

2) If the Rambam indeed believes that the halakhot governing hametz on Passover require their own separate derivations from Scripture, why does he then see fit to learn two of these laws from the same verse?

In this post, we will address the first of these challenges. Why doesn't the Rambam utilize the principles of the laws of kashrut with respect to hametz, rather than feeling compelled to derive the rules of hametz independently of other Forbidden Foods?

It would seem that the answer to this conundrum lies in a fundamental distinction between hametz and other non-kosher food items. The majority of prohibited foods are discussed in Sefer Qedusha, the Book of Holiness, which includes a section devoted to sexual prohibitions as well. The theme of the Book of Qedusha is the regulation and sublimation of instinctual forces to the higher purpose of serving Hashem and seeking knowledge of Him. This core principle is expressed in the Rambam's choice of "crowning verse" for the Book of Holiness:

"Guide my footsteps by Your word, and do not allow any wickedness to rule me."

Placing limitations on our physical gratification is the Torah's way of teaching us that instinctual pleasure should not be the ultimate objective of human life. The desire for physical satisfaction should not be allowed to dominate our psyches, shape our value systems or guide our actions. Enjoyment of the material world must be had in moderation, and appreciated as a means to more significant ends rather than as an end in itself. Our sense of purpose and the vision of good that we strive to realize must be drawn from our apprehension of God's wisdom and design and not from the ignoble recesses of our biological drives.

By contrast, the prohibition of hametz is found in Sefer Zemanim, the Book of Times, which deals days set aside - either by the Torah or the Rabbis - for reflection on important themes in Judaism. Once again, the verse chosen by the Rambam as the heading for this book speaks volumes:

"I shall inherit Your testimonies forever, for they are the joy of my heart."

In the case of Pesah, the emphasis is on recalling the event of the Exodus (Your testimonies) and the relevance of its lessons for the manner in which we conduct our lives (i.e., pursuit of true joy through the eschewing of materialism and the dedication of our resources to the service of Hashem). Abstaining from hametz is commanded not for the purpose of restricting our involvement in the instinctual, but for the purpose of highlighting key dimensions of the Exodus and its implications for our relationship to creature comforts and luxury.

With this in mind, we can appreciate why laws that hold in the context of Sefer Qedusha would not automatically be transferable to the context of Sefer Zemanim.

The notion that any prohibited food is also forbidden for benefit unless the Torah indicates otherwise makes perfect sense in the Book of Holiness. Since the goal of the mitsvot treated Sefer Qedusha is restricting our physical gratification, when an item is prohibited for consumption it stands to reason that all manner of deriving pleasure from the item should be similarly forbidden.

On the other hand, in the framework of Sefer Zemanim the logic of applying this rule is not immediately apparent. We abstain from hametz during Passover because of certain concepts that it represents, not because we are seeking to restrain our instincts to a greater degree. Thus, one might have quite rationally concluded that only eating and not benefiting from hametz would be prohibited.

Similarly, in the context of the Book of Holiness it is eminently reasonable to assume that even the slightest derivation of enjoyment from a forbidden food should be disallowed; hence the principle that forbidden food mixed into permitted food retains its prohibition as long as it is present in a certain of the final product, and the principle of "hatzi shiur", that the consumption of any quantity of a forbidden food item is prohibited.

However, in the context of Sefer Zemanim, we are not concerned with raw pleasure but with the philosophical significance of the entity of hametz. Thus, we might have easily assumed that only a legally substantial amount of hametz - hametz that exists independently of any mixture, and fully partakes of the form of bread and its properties both quantitatively and qualitatively - comes under the radar of halakha.

Because of the fundamental distinction between the thematic objectives of the Books of Times and Holiness, respectively, laws that are clearly established in one framework cannot necessarily be generalized and applied to the other. Thus, the Rambam saw fit to derive the prohibitions of benefiting from hametz, eating hametz in a mixture and consuming even a minute amount of hametz from verses in the Torah that deal with Pesah directly, and did not base these laws on the laws of kashrut.

One salient problem that remains is as follows:

We have offered reasons why the prohibition of hametz should be understood as starkly different from other Forbidden Food prohibitions, and why its regulations cannot be derived from the rules that apply to non-kosher items in general. We emphasized the distinctive nature of the hametz laws and explained that, without the special Scriptural derivations, we would have likely assumed that abstention from hametz did not involve restrictions on benefit, etc. So why is it that the Torah decided to impose such restrictions anyway? What insight can we glean from the ultimate inclusion of these additional rules in the context of hametz and matzah, despite compelling reasons to assume otherwise?

In a subsequent post, we will tackle the resolution of question #2 above and hopefully, in the course of discussing that issue, we will offer a response to this difficulty as well.

The Rambam on Hametz

In the first chapter of his Laws of Hametz and Matzah, the Rambam presents the various leaven-related prohibitions that apply during Passover. The Torah instructs us that we may not consume, benefit, or even possess hametz for the duration of the Pesah holiday.

I believe that the Rambam's formulation of the basic principles of these laws reveals a unique approach to the area of Hametz and Matzah that is worthy of recognition and reflection. In this regard, at least to my knowledge, the Rambam differed from many if not all other rabbinic thinkers, blazing an intellectual trail all his own. In this post, I hope to begin to demonstrate the creativity and depth of the Rambam's analysis of the nature of the hametz prohibition.

The second law in the first chapter of the Laws of Hametz and Matzah reads as follows:

"Hametz on Passover is prohibited to be a source of any benefit, as it is stated in the Torah, 'hametz shall not be eaten' (i.e., the verb is in the passive form)."

As the Aruch Hashulhan points out, the fact that Maimonides feels the need to bring a "prooftext" for the prohibition of benefiting from hametz poses a serious difficulty. After all, the Rambam himself rules in the Laws of Forbidden Foods that anytime a food is prohibited by the Torah it is automatically assumed to be prohibited for any kind of physical benefit unless proven otherwise. So, ostensibly, we would presume that hametz, by virtue of its being forbidden for consumption during Passover, is also forbidden for any benefit, since there is no indication to the contrary. Why does the Rambam bother citing a separate verse to establish that we are not allowed to benefit from hametz, when this would have been implicit in the statement that we may not eat it?

Similar problems abound in the first chapter in quick succession. For example, in Law #6, the Rambam writes:

"One is not liable for the penalty of excision [from the Jewish people] unless he consumes actual hametz. A mixture containing hametz, however, such as Babylonian dip, Median beer or anything else that has hametz mixed into it, if one eats them on Passover he receives lashes but not excision, as it is stated in the Torah, 'you shall not eat any leaven.' When is the law [that one is lashed for eating a hametz mixture] applicable? Only when, in the course of eating three egg-measures worth of the mixture he consumes an olive's bulk of hametz. However, if the mixture does not have a ratio of one olive's worth of hametz to every three eggs worth of mixture, then even though it is prohibited for consumption, if he eats it he only receives Rabbinically mandated lashes."

Furthermore, in Halakha #7 the Rambam adds:

"One who eats actual hametz on Passover of even the slightest quantity is violating a Torah prohibition, as it is stated in the Torah, 'hametz shall not be eaten'."

The Aruch Hashulhan objects to the Rambam's formulation of these halakhot for the same reason that he found fault with Halakha #2: namely, because these rules - the prohibition of benefit, the 'one olive for every three eggs' condition, and the notion that even the slightest quantity of hametz may not be eaten - are all explicitly laid out in the Rambam's general treatment of forbidden foods, and should not require separate Scriptural "prooftexts" related to hametz to support them.

Stated succinctly, then:

1) It is not because of any unique property of hametz that it is forbidden for benefit - this would be equally true of any non-kosher food that the Torah does not specifically exempt from that restriction.

2) Similarly, it is not because of some particular feature of hametz that it must be present in a mixture in certain quantities (i.e., an olive's worth in every three eggs-worth of foodstuff) in order to retain its identity - this is again true of all non-kosher substances that become intermingled with kosher foods.

3) Finally, it is not because of any special quality of hametz that the consumption of the slightest quantity thereof is considered a Torah violation - this is simply another application of a broad halachic principle known as 'hatzi shiur asur min haTorah', i.e., the consumption of less than the requisite amount (e.g., less than an olive's bulk) of any forbidden item is still considered a Torah offense, albeit not a Biblically punishable one.

Apparently, these three halakhic rulings of the Rambam are superfluous, since they are nothing more than applications of the general principles governing all Forbidden Foods. Why does the Rambam present these halakhot as if they are novel ideas only relevant to Passover?

Before we attempt to answer this problem, there is yet another anomaly in the halakhot that we should note. Let us return to Halakhot #2 and #7 once more:

(#2) "Hametz on Passover is prohibited to be a source of any benefit, as it is stated in the Torah, 'hametz shall not be eaten'."

(#7) "One who eats actual hametz on Passover of even the slightest quantity is violating a Torah prohibition, as it is stated in the Torah, 'hametz shall not be eaten'."

As the Aruch Hashulhan points out, the Rambam utilizes the same phrase - 'hametz shall not be eaten' - to derive two different halachot: the prohibition of benefiting from any hametz, as well as the prohibition of consuming even a minute amount of hametz.

Under normal circumstances, a separate verse would be adduced for each novel teaching; one for the prohibition of benefiting from hametz, and one for the prohibition of consuming even the slightest quantity of hametz. Assuming that the Rambam maintains that these laws need a special Scriptural source - a position about which we have already raised questions above - how can the Rambam justify learning both halakhot from the same source?

In the final analysis, then, we must deal with two fundamental problems in the Rambam's formulation of the basic "building blocks" of the prohibitions of hametz:

1) Why does the Rambam treat the halakhot of hametz independently of the laws of Forbidden Foods in general, deriving the details of the laws of Passover from Torah verses rather than simply applying the preexistent laws of kashrut to the special case of hametz?

2) If the Rambam indeed believes that the halakhot governing hametz on Passover require their own separate derivations from Scripture, why does he then see fit to learn two of these laws from the same verse?

In a follow-up post, I will present what I believe to be a compelling resolution to these difficulties. Stay tuned.

It’s A Shame

In the previous installment of this series on the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, we examined the first verse Maimonides uses to “crown” his compendium, “in the name of Hashem, God of the Universe.” We explained that this verse fragment makes reference to the link between the work of the Rambam and the mission of Avraham Avinu, who revolutionized mankind’s understanding of the material world and humanity’s place in it.

However, the Rambam was not satisfied with this introductory verse alone. He appended a second passuq, drawn from Psalm 119:

“Then I will no longer be ashamed – when I gaze upon all of your commandments.”

We must assume that the Rambam understood these two quotations as complementary – that somehow, their combination would provide the ideal bridge from the world of the Written Torah to the framework of the Mishneh Torah. We have already discussed the first verse, which beautifully articulates the overarching purpose of Torah in general. But what does the second verse add that was missing from the first?

A careful consideration of the verse from Psalms will lead us to the answer. The Psalmist describes an internal experience of shame, a painful state of existence that gazing upon all the commandments will ameliorate. On the surface, this inner turmoil is difficult to comprehend. The majority of Jews are very far from having an intellectual grasp of the entire system of mitsvot, yet they don’t seem to be possessed by feelings of inadequacy or inferiority as a result. On the contrary, we take pride in our progress and accomplishments in Torah, despite the fact that we have a great deal left to learn. The process of learning is, after all, a lifelong endeavor, and there is no shame in this. So what is the verse in Psalms getting at?

I believe that King David means to correct a misconception many harbor about Torah knowledge. We tend to approach Torah study as a luxury, a source of enjoyment and stimulation that enhances our lives. This is certainly accurate as far as it goes. However, it falls short of acknowledging the deficiencies within us that Torah and mitsvot are designed to rectify.

A person without Torah is not simply an individual who lacks some added benefit in life; absence of Torah is not merely “lack of a positive”, it is the presence of a negative! When we exercise our capacity for free choice, making decisions and selecting objectives to which to devote ourselves, we must make recourse to some set of values or principles to guide us. The average person is primarily motivated by desires for physical gratification, honor or accomplishment. His lifestyle and routines, reactions to disappointment, attitude toward diet and exercise, work ethic, etc., all derive from his constant strivings for the “good life” as he envisions it. The problem is that his “vision” is the product of his instincts, emotions and fantasies rather than true insight.

A person of Torah, on the other hand, is governed by the principles of God’s wisdom in every aspect of his existence – material, spiritual, social and practical. The deeper and more comprehensive his understanding of Torah principles, the more integrated, harmonious and wise his lifestyle choices become. As knowledge of Torah expands and illuminates one’s perspective on the world, it slowly replaces instinct and impulse as the guiding force in one’s life.

Thus, the Psalmist writes that one who has not yet developed a vision of the Torah system as a whole should experience shame – he should be keenly aware of the deficiency of his knowledge and therefore of the fact that many of his actions and reactions are still under the sway of his instinctual makeup. Until he can systematically apply principles of Torah insight to every area of his life, he realizes that his conduct will continue to be driven by the lower elements of his nature.

As we have noted in prior installments of this series, the Rambam’s objective in composing the Mishneh Torah was to provide a systematic and comprehensive presentation of the entire Oral Tradition. Hence, it is fitting that he should associate this project with a verse in Psalms that beckons the reader to seek just such a thorough and integrated understanding of the commandments. Our need to have Torah wisdom permeate every aspect of our lives irresistibly draws us to the Mishneh Torah.

Now we can better appreciate the connection between the first and second verses that Maimonides chose to introduce his work. The first verse speaks of the so-called macrocosm of existence – the Universe in its totality, including human beings, as reflections of the unfathomable wisdom of One Creator. When Torah teachings are put into practice in the real world, and the harmonious and lawful conduct of nature is paralleled by the harmonious and lawful behavior of mankind, then Avraham Avinu’s grand mission has reached its completion.

However, as long as our knowledge of Torah is still a work in progress, we look upon the rest of Creation and back at ourselves with a modicum of shame. Every entity in our world is governed by the magnificent design of God with breathtaking consistency, yet we are bundles of contradiction, overtaken by petty impulses and base instincts on a regular basis. So long as we lack knowledge, we blissfully allow our animalistic desires to hijack us for their satisfaction. This shameful situation will persist until we finally gaze upon all of the commandments and, through their wise counsel, systematically alter our perspectives on life.

The two verses selected by Maimonide reflect two complementary dimensions of our religious outlook. “In the name of Hashem, God of the Universe” refers to our attitude toward the “big picure” of the cosmos – that is, the principle that the existence of the world and its intricate order express Hashem’s wisdom and providence throughout.

The second verse “Then I will no longer be ashamed” speaks to our view of ourselves as deficient parts of Creation that have not yet come under the governance of Hashem’s design and need the educational system of the mitsvot to enable us to do so.

(This is reminiscent of the shift observed in the first two chapters of Genesis: In the first, the beautiful and idyllic universe is created in all of its majestic beauty. In the second, human beings come on the scene and begin grappling with the question of what values and lifestyle to adopt for themselves. Compare this to Psalm 19, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament tells of His handiwork…The Torah of Hashem is perfect, reviving the soul, the testimony of Hashem is trustworthy, making the simple one wise.” )

We can now fully grasp the relevance of these verses to the Mishneh Torah and its objectives. As the verses suggest, the purpose of the Book is to provide us with a proper outlook on the Universe in general, and to offer us a systematic understanding of the mitsvot that will help us remove the “shame” of unprincipled living in the human realm.

In our next article, we will explore the Rambam’s Introduction in detail. Our goal will be to better understand why Maimonides selected the format that he did for his masterpiece.

The Written Roots of the Oral Torah

In the first installment of this series on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, we concluded that the Rambam’s purpose in composing his magnum opus was to present the Oral Law in a textbook format rather than in the choppy, dialectical style of the Talmud. However, Maimonides did not simply reorganize the structure of the Oral Tradition. He also labored to provide a “bridge” between the poetic, intuitive, and concrete world of the Written Torah and the more abstract and conceptual realm of the Oral Law.

Nowadays, many people approach the Written and Oral Torahs as distinct fields of study. It is not uncommon for students with minimal knowledge of the Bible to be rushed into the advanced domain of Talmudic analysis. Indeed, more often than not, Yeshiva students first encounter many of the stories and passages of Tanach when they are cited in the course of a Talmudic debate. Since study of the Oral Law is prized as the highest form of Torah learning, time is allocated to it at the expense of the Written Law.

This approach, however, is seriously flawed. The Oral Torah is intended to serve as an explanation of the Written Law, and presupposes a relatively deep understanding of the various books of Tanach. The principles discussed in the Talmud cannot be fully appreciated unless they are seen as clarifications and refinements of our readings of the Torah, Prophets and Writings. Attempting to delve into the Oral Torah without a firm grounding in the Written Torah is akin to trying to master calculus without a thorough knowledge of arithmetic.


The Missing Link

Throughout his writings, the Rambam continually emphasizes the connection between the Written and Oral Torahs, and their intrinsic interdependency. One must begin with a solid foundation in Biblical study – a clear and well-organized understanding of the narratives and commandments presented to us in the texts of Tanach – before one can explore the principles of the Oral Tradition and fathom them. The first stage of learning is more experiential, intuitive and literary. It prepares the groundwork for the more nuanced and abstract analyses of the Oral Law.

An example will illustrate this point. Study of the laws of Shabbat should not begin with a reading of the Talmudic Tractate called “Shabbat”. It should first be rooted in an exploration of the Written Torah’s treatment of this area - the very first “Divine” Shabbat at the end of the Genesis narrative, the introduction of the Jews to the concept of Shabbat in the Wilderness, the presentation of Shabbat in the Ten Commandments and in the context of the civil laws of Mishpatim, the role of the Shabbat in the laws of the Mishkan, and the discussions of Shabbat observance in the Prophetic Books.

This provides the student with a more general, experientially-based sense of the purpose, method and legal principles of Shabbat, a foundation he can build upon as his knowledge progresses. He will gain an understanding of the various objectives embodied in Shabbat – social and theological – and why performance of “melacha” (i.e., creative activity) would undermine the achievement of these objectives. Deeper reflection upon the meaning of “melacha” and its interconnection with the other aspects of Shabbat observance will transition, smoothly and naturally, to more rigorous definitions and more precise legal formulas – the realm of the Oral Law itself.

(Ideally, individual commandments should not be studied in isolation as described. On the level of the Written Torah, the commandments are embedded in narratives and juxtaposed with descriptions of other mitsvot. The process of Written Torah study should be dedicated to perceiving the thematic unity of the text as a whole and understanding how the system of mitsvot emerges naturally from it.)

Because of the Rambam’s desire to underscore the interrelationship of Written and Oral Torah, he explicitly rested his presentation of the Oral Tradition upon the foundation of Tanach. One of the key methods he used to achieve this was crowning each of his books with a signature verse from the Bible. The chosen verses exemplify the Biblical themes that are going to be elaborated upon, expanded and explained in the associated segment of the Oral Torah. Understanding the message of the verses that adorn the Rambam’s books is a necessary prerequisite to understanding the content of the books themselves.


The Introductory Verses

The Rambam “crowns” the introduction to the Mishneh Torah with not one but two verses from the Tanach. The first is a fragment of a verse from the Book of Genesis that was a personal favorite of Maimonides’; he placed it atop all of his works – the Mishneh Torah, Moreh Nevuchim and Commentary to the Mishnah.

We will devote the remainder of this discussion to an analysis of this verse-fragment:

“In the name of Hashem, God of the Universe.” (Gen. 21:33)

In its original context, this phrase describes the activity of Avraham our forefather, who traveled throughout Mesopotamia, built altars in various locations and “called out there in the name of Hashem.” In the Guide for the Perplexed (3:29), Maimonides explains the activities of Avraham in greater detail:

“When Abraham, the Pillar of the World, appeared, he became convinced that there is a spiritual Divine Being, which is not a body, nor a force residing in a body, but is the Creator of the spheres and the stars; and he saw the absurdity of the traditions with which he had been raised. He therefore began to attack the beliefs of the Sabeans (i.e., idolaters) to expose the falsehood of their opinions, and to proclaim publicly in opposition to them, ‘the name of Hashem, God of the Universe’ – which proclamation affirmed both the Existence of God and the Creation of the Universe by God.”

Avraham dedicated his life to demonstrating the unity of Hashem and teaching people that His infinite wisdom is manifest in all of creation. His passion for truth moved him to reach out to individuals and communities, sharing his unique – and, at that time in history, shockingly radical – idea of monotheism wherever he went. Avraham’s primary message was clear and simple; namely, that everything in the Universe is an elegant and lawful reflection of God’s unified, supreme design.

Avraham’s vision had moral implications as well. Logically speaking, his view should lead us to expect that mankind too will reflect the Divine plan in his values and behavior. After all, the human species is a component part of the created order and should be governed by God’s wisdom like the rest of it.

However, as the first narrative in Genesis teaches us, Adam and Eve set a tragic precedent of non-compliance with God’s will that formed the basis for human culture as we know it today. Rather than pursue the divinely determined “good” for humanity – the pursuit of knowledge of God and emulation of His ways - they chose to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and to establish their own artificial, instinctually driven definition of “goodness”. This was the first step in the evolution of a society that viewed the entire world as nothing more than material for its own domination and enjoyment – a far cry from admiring it as the handiwork of an omniscient Creator, a Being to whom we should look for intellectual enlightenment and moral guidance!

The materialistic and self-serving orientation to the universe that ultimately took shape enabled human beings to feel comfortable with their position as the lords of all of creation and the epicenters of the cosmic drama. Values, goals, and strivings were determined by human sentiment and desire, without reference to any objective standards.

Even the idolatrous ‘gods’ – feared and dutifully worshipped by the masses – were never thought of as arbiters of truth or sources of ethical principles. In fact, these figments of human imagination actually served to further empower humanity in its pursuit of instinctual and egotistic gratification. Rather than be intimidated by the harsh and indifferent forces of nature, people were comforted by the notion that they could negotiate with the environment through prayer and sacrifice. This allowed them to feel secure as they went about their hedonistic lifestyles.

Avraham battled against the prevalent mentality and taught that human beings are mere creations of a transcendent God. They are part of the created order and should therefore seek to live in harmony with true principles rather than the impulses and fantasies of their hearts. By revolutionizing our concept of the universe, then, Abraham also sparked a revolution in our understanding of man’s position in the world.


The Mission of Maimonides

Maimonides’ choice of this verse-fragment as the header for all of his books gives us an insight into the way in which he perceived his own “mission”. He saw himself as an Abrahamic figure who sought to liberate human beings from a materialistic worldview and help them appreciate the Divine wisdom that permeates all reality, including its human component.

The Rambam’s efforts in this regard took two forms. In the Guide for the Perplexed, he attempted to formulate a coherent vision of the “macrocosm” of Hashem’s design – metaphysics, physics and providence - with mankind occupying a small but noteworthy place in the universe as a whole. The objective of the Guide was to demonstrate that all of the glorious elements of the cosmos - from its vast expanses to its tiniest molecules, and from its animals and plants through its homo sapiens – point to the existence of the Creator who designed and sustains them.

In the Mishneh Torah, the Rambam is again occupied with “calling out in the name of Hashem, God of the Universe.” However, in this case the field he is working with is the field of Torah in particular, i.e., the Divine principles that apply to the realm of human existence in all its complexity.

As we mentioned in the previous installment of this series, exposure to the Talmud could mislead a person into thinking that the system of mitsvot is nothing more than an incoherent, disorganized and haphazardly arranged group of rules. On a superficial level, the Torah – like nature – does not immediately reveal its intellectual beauty, subtlety and harmony.

Neglect of the underlying conceptual unity of Torah is another, even more insidious form of materialism; it causes us to relate to specific regulations and laws as mechanical prescriptions for behavior to be implemented by the body rather than general principles for enlightened living that are to be apprehended by, and to uplift, the soul. This in turn disconnects us from the overarching purpose of mitzvah observance, which is to transform us into a wise and discerning nation dedicated to sanctifying God’s name in the world.

By presenting the Oral Law in a comprehensive, systematic and integrated fashion, Maimonides shows us how the Torah – just like the material world – is an exquisitely designed work of profound wisdom that bears witness to its transcendent, Divine Source.

In the next installment of this series, we will consider the second verse that the Rambam affixed to the Mishneh Torah’s Preface. We will discover how the second epigraph complements the message of the first, and how the two, in tandem, help us to better understand Maimonides’ Introduction and his magnum opus as a whole.

Introduction to the Mishneh Torah: Its Structure and Purpose

Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah is undoubtedly the most significant addition to Torah literature since the completion of the Talmud. A presentation of the entirety of the Oral Tradition in a single volume, formulated by one of the greatest halachic and philosophical minds of all time, the Mishneh Torah revolutionized the manner in which Torah was taught and studied world over. Authors of subsequent works of Jewish Law could imitate or attempt to criticize Maimonides’ contributions, but no one could ignore the decisive impact he had on the world of Jewish learning at large.

No one could deny the sheer breadth and depth of the Mishneh Torah, and these factors alone earned it a place in the vast library of Rabbinic literature. The opinions of the Rambam on halachic matters had to be reckoned with – and indeed, they were discussed, debated, analyzed and used as a lens through which the words of the Talmud could be better comprehended. The Mishneh Torah became an essential “companion” to the study of Mishnah and Gemara, a new and powerful tool in the hands of traditional Rabbinic scholars. Yet despite the fact that the influence of the Mishneh Torah on the world of Jewish learning was immeasurable, I would argue that the work ultimately failed to achieve the goals for which the Rambam composed it in the first place. What leads me to make such a bold statement?

Simply put, even a cursory examination of the format of the Mishneh Torah reveals that it was not meant to be used as an aid to Talmud study. Unlike any exposition of the Oral Torah that existed previously, the Rambam’s work is a “hibbur” – a free-standing, independent text designed to be studied on its own terms and without reference to or reliance upon other Rabbinic source materials. It is organized into books, subsections and chapters that do not mirror the divisions found in the Talmud. These features of the Mishneh Torah point to the fact that it was never intended to serve as a commentary on earlier Rabbinic volumes. Its purpose was far more radical – to completely revolutionize our approach to learning and teaching the Oral Torah.

From the Talmud to the Rambam

Anyone who has some familiarity with the Talmud knows that it is a daunting work. Aside from its sheer volume and complexity – themselves quite intimidating – the Talmud presupposes that its students possess vast amounts of background knowledge even before opening it. No introduction is provided. Premises are not spelled out in an explicit fashion. Advanced theoretical questions are raised and debates ensue, yet the importance of the issues involved is generally taken for granted. Anyone seeking an elementary Torah education will be seriously disappointed by the Talmud, which invariably seems to the newcomer like a disorganized hodgepodge of rather trivial arguments.


I have often observed in the past that reading the Talmud is like perusing the pages of an academic journal. One who has a foundation in the discipline treated by the journal will appreciate the meaning and significance of its articles, their context and purpose. He or she will leave further edified and maybe even enlightened. On the other hand, an uninitiated individual will be rebuffed by the abundance of technical jargon, unfamiliar topics, obscure references and technical methodology. He will close the journal more confused and frustrated than he was before opening it.

The reason for the difference in reactions is that professional journals are not the appropriate place to begin one’s education; they are published for people who have already established themselves as scholars and experts in their respective fields. Students who wish to become experts must start with a healthy diet of comprehensive and clearly organized textbooks. Such books are designed to introduce readers to the basic principles of a given area of inquiry in a more explicit manner. Only after traversing this elementary stage of training can they hope to explore the more abstruse and challenging aspects of their fields of interest – namely, the kinds of questions and problems that experts grapple with in prestigious journals.

The target audience of the Talmud is similar to that of an academic journal. It is intended for people who have already mastered the Written Torah – i.e., the Bible – and who have a well-developed grasp of the fundamentals of the Oral Torah. Indeed, even the Mishnah, which is widely regarded as a simpler, more basic presentation of the Oral Law, is only really accessible to a person who has elementary knowledge of its subject matter from the outset. The Mishnah deals with the application of Jewish legal principles to highly specific and sometimes very complex cases. Its arguments are far less extensive and confusing than those of the Gemara, so in a certain sense it is less intimidating. But the Mishnah rarely provides us with any context or background information before entering into abstruse discussions of difficult material. It is by no means a self-sufficient source of knowledge of the Oral Torah, and was certainly not designed to be an introductory work on the subject.

A brief example will clarify this point. The first Mishnah in the Talmud dives into a discussion of the official deadline for reciting the Shema in the evening. Three rabbinic opinions on this issue are cited, and one of them is illustrated with an anecdote. Yet the Mishnah never bothers to establish the existence of a mitzvah to read the Shema in the evening to begin with! How are we supposed to know that we are commanded to recite Shema at night, and that this commandment has a specific deadline? Apparently, the Mishnah was composed with the assumption that its readers would already be well aware of such basic facts, and therefore goes about the business of dealing with unusual cases that demand more intense analysis and lend themselves to scholarly debate. In summary, then, the resemblance of the Talmud’s style and content to those of an academic journal is striking.

The similarity of the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah to a textbook is equally remarkable. It is sequentially ordered, beginning with the most fundamental principles in the Oral Torah and then proceeding to build upon them. It is organized around clearly identifiable themes derived from the Written Law – embodied in the names of its Books and the Biblical verses linked to each of them – and structured in a way that enables every student to perceive the logical consistency, coherence and beauty of the Oral Tradition.

Maimonides’ Mission

Maimonides saw that many Jews, and even some scholars, had lost their sense of the unity and cohesiveness of the Oral Torah. They studied the principles of halacha as if those principles were random, arbitrary rules rather than components of a comprehensive system. They were no longer guided by a vision of the overarching harmony of the Oral Law – a core vision which was taken for granted by the authors of the Mishnah and Gemara and which silently informed and shaped their scholarly discussions. The external features of the Talmud – its apparent disorganization, free associative style and focus on minutiae – had tragically begun to obscure the true nature of the Oral Law in the minds of its practitioners. The forest was slowly receding from view on account of the trees.

In light of our analogy to professional journals, we can appreciate the reason why this problem emerged in the first place. Imagine a world in which textbooks did not exist. With only libraries of academic periodicals to read from, how many students would form a comprehensive grasp of their fields of study? How many of them would be able to reconstruct the intellectual context in which the scholarly debates they read made sense? Without a doubt, most students would wind up with a hodgepodge of information and ideas about their discipline, but with little or no appreciation for the underlying unity of the field in question. This library collection of professional journals is exactly the kind of thing we are presented with in the Talmud and its commentaries – documents written for scholars by scholars, and in which the underlying conceptual framework is presupposed but never articulated.

As long as the Oral Tradition still existed in its original form, this phenomenon didn’t pose any problem – the fundamental principles of halacha were communicated verbally, from teacher to student, for generations, and the texts were looked upon as nothing more than erudite notes for reference and discussion. The difficulty started to foment when the process of oral transmission began to break down. People became overly reliant on the texts for guidance, and were forced to try and “reconstruct” the field of Oral Torah from the pages of the “professional journals” they had received from their predecessors. It should come as no surprise that an educational crisis ensued – and indeed, we continue to feel the effects of this disaster in the world of Torah learning today.

One illustration of the lamentable effects of this calamity will suffice. More people have completed study of the Talmud in our generation than ever before, thanks to the Daf Yomi movement. Yet for most of these individuals, the debates in the Gemara remain isolated “sugyot” – topics for discussion and analysis – and are never placed in any broader, more intuitive conceptual framework. The collection of details they have amassed is not transformed into a systematic understanding of any particular mitzvah, let alone an integrated vision of the Oral Torah as a whole. And this leads to a diminishing of the honor due to Torah – it is dismissed as somehow less majestic, intellectually impressive or coherent than other fields of knowledge, when, in reality, the opposite is the case!

The Sagacious Solution

Maimonides, in his Mishneh Torah, provides us with the solution to this dilemma. The textbook paradigm he employs serves to introduce the student to the vast world of halachic study in a pedagogically sound manner, before exposing him to the abstruse nuances and advanced technicalities of the Mishnah and Gemara. By presenting the entire Oral Torah as a unified system of thought – rooted in the intuitive wisdom of the Written Law, founded on clear theoretical principles, refined and synthesized into a comprehensive program for learning and life – the Rambam teaches our minds to swim gracefully and thus saves us from drowning in the Sea of the Talmud.

This is the first in a series of Mishneh Torah studies dedicated to using Maimonides’ magnum opus as the introductory textbook of Jewish Thought. By so doing, we hope to clarify and deepen our understanding of Judaism on multiple levels. In the next installment of our course, we will begin an in-depth examination of the Rambam’s preface. Specifically, we will focus on the verses from the Bible that Maimonides selected as epigraphs for the Mishneh Torah, and what they teach us about the philosophy behind Jewish Law in general.