Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT KEDOSHIM

Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Kedoshim includes the famous prohibition of lifnei iver lo titein mikhshol – "Do not place a stumbling block before a blind person" (19:14). Chazal, in Torat Kohanim and elsewhere, famously interpret the term iver ("blind person") here as a reference not to visual blindness, but rather intellectual blindness. This verse forbids misleading someone in a matter regarding which he lacks sufficient knowledge to chart his course independently. Torat Kohanim mentions several examples: falsely recommending to a kohen a woman unsuitable for marriage to a kohen; suggesting to someone that he leave town at a certain time, knowing full well that leaving at that time will likely cause him harm, and encouraging one to make a bad transaction. In all these situations, one capitalizes on his victim's insufficient knowledge or deductive reasoning abilities to bring him harm.

Later writers have offered numerous different approaches to explain why Chazal opted for a non-literal reading of this verse. Why didn't they interpret this prohibition according to its simple meaning, as forbidding placing a rock or some other obstacle in the path of a visually impaired person?

The Malbim suggests that Chazal's interpretation stems from an important distinction between two Hebrew terms – la-sim and la-tet. La-sim, the Malbim explains, which literally translates as "placing," refers to the act of placing or setting an object, independent of any intended recipient or otherwise relevant party. La-tet, by contrast, means "giving," an act integrally bound to the other party. Thus, la-tet always implies an act of transfer with the relevant party's knowledge. As opposed to la-sim, which does not relate at all to any of the people involved, la-tet necessarily entails the direct involvement of the recipient.

In our verse, the Malbim notes, the Torah employs the term la-tet – "lo titein mikhshol." Had the Torah here referred to placing an actual stumbling block in the path of a blind man, it would have employed the term la-sim, which denotes the act of placement itself, without the involvement of any relevant parties. For example, when the Torah speaks of the case of the motzi shem ra – the husband who falsely accuses his new bride of infidelity during the betrothal period – it describes, "ve-sam la alilot devarim" – literally, "he places charges about her" (Devarim 22:14). Here, too, the husband "places" words without the wife's involvement, and thus the verb la-sim is used. Another, perhaps more compelling, example, as noted by the Malbim, is a verse towards the beginning of Sefer Iyov (1:17), where Iyov is informed of three groups of assailants that were "placed" – "samu" – in ambush to kill his children and seize his property. Here, too, the ambushes were set in secret, without the knowledge of the intended victims. Thus, if the Torah would speak of placing an actual stumbling block before a blind person, it would employ the term la-sim, rather than la-tet. The fact that the Torah here writes, "lo titein mikhshol" indicates that we deal here with "giving," rather than "placing," with a situation where one presents something with the recipient's knowledge, rather than "placing" an item entirely independent of the person involved. Hence, Chazal deduced that the Torah here speaks of "giving" fallacious advice, rather than "placing" a stumbling block.

Beyond the intriguing linguistic theory developed here by the Malbim, his approach may shed light on the broader implications of this prohibition. Causing one harm by offering misleading advice is perhaps easier on the conscience than inflicting damage directly. A culprit might excuse himself with the claim that the victim's deficient reasoning is partly to blame for the consequences. All the violator did was make a suggestion; he simply "placed" an idea on the table for the victim's consideration, without forcing him to accept it. The Torah therefore describes this scenario with the term titein, underscoring the fact that offering advice is considered "giving," rather than "placing." The Torah draws no distinction between directly causing harm and harm caused through intentional deception. We are held accountable for all consequences of our treatment of others, even those that evolve only indirectly from what we say or do.

******

Parashat Kedoshim presents many different mitzvot, ranging from the ethical (e.g. "love your fellow as yourself") to the ritual (e.g. "You shall observe My Sabbaths") to the theological (e.g. "Do not resort to [other] deities"). One unique feature about this parasha is the oft-repeated refrain, "Ani Hashem" – "I am the Lord," which the Torah adds many times after concluding its discussion of a law or set of laws in this parasha. Why is this declaration so repeatedly emphasized throughout this parasha?

Rav Gavriel Zev Margolis, in his Torat Gavriel, suggests that this refrain serves as the Almighty's insignia, as it were, on the mitzvot mentioned in this parasha. He draws an analogy to a manufacturer, who places his unique emblem or insignia on his products so that consumers can differentiate between his products and cheap imitations by inferior competitors. Similarly, Rav Margolis suggests, many of the mitzvot in Parashat Kedoshim, particularly those involving interpersonal relations, business ethics, concern for the underprivileged, and sexual morality, have parallels in other religions and cultures. God therefore sought to append His "signature," if you will, to this parasha, in the form of the refrain, Ani Hashem. In this way, we are reminded that even if we find a variation of a given mitzva in some other religious or moral system, only the Torah's laws are the authentic, superior "product" of the Almighty Himself.

Rav Margolis refers in this context to a famous remark by Rav Ovadya Bartenura in his commentary to the opening mishna of Pirkei Avot, which many communities have the practice of studying this week. This mishna traces the mesora, or oral tradition, from Moshe Rabbenu down to the period of the Tanna'im. Many different explanations have ben given as to why this essentially historical outline introduces Pirkei Avot. Rav Ovadya Bartenura suggests that this introduction seeks to dispel the mistaken notion that our tradition includes only the specific, technical laws of the Torah. In truth, even the broader values and general guidelines for day-to-day conduct, which is the subject of Masekhet Avot, have come to us through tradition originating from Sinai. Though many other cultures and faiths also feature systems of ethical guidelines, only the Torah's originates from the Almighty Himself.

Parashat Kedoshim, as its name reflects, opens with the obligation of Kedoshim tihyu – to be holy. Apparently, the laws presented in this parasha are geared towards this end – to elevate our lives and lend a special dimension of sanctity to our very existence. The refrain of Ani Hashem reminds us that although many other nations claim to hold the key to sanctity, to more effectively lead one to a "holy" existence, only the Torah represents God's own instructions how to realize this goal. If we seek a more sacred and meaningful life, we should look only to our tradition for the means of achieving it.

******

The Ramban's comments to the first verse of Parashat Kedoshim constitute perhaps the most famous passage in all his writings. In explaining the Torah's obligation of "kedoshim tihyu" – "You shall be holy" – the Ramban writes that the Torah here refers to those areas of life that are not directly proscribed by Torah law, but must nevertheless conform with the general values and ideals of the Torah. Beyond the particular do's and don'ts, the Torah demands a certain overarching quality of sanctity in our lives, to which it refers with the words, kedoshim tihyu.

We will focus today on the very first, far less known sentences of this otherwise celebrated passage in the Ramban's commentary. Before proceeding to define the imperative of kedoshim tihyu, the Ramban first addresses the unusual phraseology in this verse: "Speak to the entire congregation of the Israelites, and say to them: You shall be holy." In Torat Kohanim, Chazal interpret this expression – "daber el kol adat Benei Yisrael" ("speak to the entire congregation of the Israelites") – as implying that Moshe was to present this parasha be-hakhel, in an assembly of the entire nation. As opposed to the rest of the Torah, which Moshe initially presented to only select individuals, this parasha, upon which, as Chazal comment, "most of the principles of the Torah hinge," was to be presented before the nation in its entirety.

The Ramban cites this passage from Torat Kohanim and then makes the following, ambiguous remark: "But it [this parasha] was mentioned here, in Torat Kohanim [an alternate name for Sefer Vayikra], because it [the Torah] discusses in it the thanksgiving offering, and because it mentions in it the punishment commanded to be carried out for those who commit the specified abominations." The Ramban here finds it necessary to justify the inclusion of Parashat Kedoshim within Sefer Vayikra. He explains that it was placed in this sefer because it presents a law relevant to the consumption of sacrificial meat (19:6-8), a topic clearly relevant to the theme of Sefer Vayikra, and because it specifies the punishments for the various sexual offenses (chapter 20) outlined earlier in the sefer. The question arises, why was the Ramban bothered in the first place by the location of this parasha? The fact that he raises this issue immediately after citing the passage from Torat Kohanim implies that somehow, the presentation of this parasha be-hakhel, in a nationwide assembly, renders it, at first glance, out of place here in Sefer Vayikra. Why?

Rav Menachem Kasher, in his notes to Torah Sheleima (Shemot 12:3), raises the possibility that Ramban read this passage in Torat Kohanim much differently. Rather than explaining the word be-hakhel to mean that this parasha was presented to Benei Yisrael in a nationwide assembly, the Ramban perhaps understood that it is to read at hakhel – the national gathering conducted every seven years at the Temple. Towards the end of Sefer Devarim (31:10-13), Moshe introduces the mitzva for the entire nation to gather on the festival of Sukkot once in seven years to hear the reading of the Torah. According to tradition, it was specifically the book of Devarim that was read during the hakhel ceremony. The Ramban, however, may have understood the Torat Kohanim to mean that Parashat Kedoshim, too, was to be read at hakhel. Thus, he naturally wondered why Parashat Kedoshim was included in Sefer Vayikra, rather than in Sefer Devarim, where it belongs, as evidenced by its required reading at hakhel. Rav Kasher notes that although we do not find in the mishna or Gemara any reference to the required reading of other sections of the Torah at hakhel, the Meiri (Sanhedrin 22) cites a view that according to some Tanna'im, the entire Torah was read at hakhel. Perhaps, Rav Kasher speculates, the Ramban followed this position but understood it to mean not that the entire Torah was actually read, but rather that other sections besides Sefer Devarim were read.

If so, then this would mark a particularly novel and fascinating position of the Ramban, that – at least according to Torat Kohanim – the hakhel Torah reading ceremony included the reading of Parashat Kedoshim.

******

Yesterday, we discussed the unusual phraseology employed by the Torah in the second verse of Parashat Kedoshim, when God commands Moshe to present the laws introduced in this parasha "to the entire congregation of the Israelites" ("el kol adat Benei Yisrael"). As we saw, Torat Kohanim understood this to mean that Moshe was to present this parasha to the people be-hakhel, in the presence of the entire nation.

Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch notes that in only one other instance in the Torah does God use this description when ordering Moshe to present a set laws to Benei Yisrael: in the section of Chumash known as Parashat Hachodesh (Shemot, chapter 12). There God tells Moshe to convey to Benei Yisrael the instructions relevant to the night of the Exodus – the preparation of a sheep for the paschal offering, the slaughtering of the sheep on the 14^th of Nissan, the placement of blood on the doorposts, and so on. In this context, too, God tells Moshe to present these laws to "the entire congregation of the Israelites." Wherein lies the connection between that context and Parashat Kedoshim with respect to the particular emphasis on the "entire congregation" of the people?

We might suggest that in both instances, the laws conveyed to the people involved their ascension to a new status, of which many elements of the nation would consider themselves unworthy. In Shemot, Benei Yisrael are called upon to establish an eternal covenant with God. The paschal sacrifice marked a berit into which God entered together with Benei Yisrael. They demonstrated their devotion to Him through the offering of the sacrifice, and He, in turn, took them as His people by "passing over" their homes during the plague of the firstborn and rescuing them from Egypt. For this reason, circumcision – the physical sign of this covenant – was required before the offering of the korban pesach. We could easily imagine that many among Benei Yisrael entertained doubts as to whether they truly earned this distinction, of joining an eternal bond with the Almighty. For this reason, perhaps, God emphasized that Moshe must present these laws to "the entire congregation of the Israelites." Indeed, this covenant is the destiny of each and every member of the nation, without exception.

Similarly, Parashat Kedoshim, which outlines the obligations and prohibitions through whose observance Benei Yisrael become "kedoshim" – "holy," was to be presented specifically to "kol adat Benei Yisrael." The laws of this parasha are intended to fundamentally transform the nation, to elevate their lives to a unique status of holiness. It must therefore be emphasized that this responsibility is charged upon the nation in its entirety, without exception. Even those who might deem themselves unworthy of becoming "holy" must pursue this goal. In this parasha, we are guaranteed that through the observance of these mitzvot we can indeed reach this status, and once such an achievement is possible, it becomes a binding obligation cast upon every member of kol adat Benei Yisrael.

******

Parashat Kedoshim introduces the prohibition, "You shall not curse a deaf man" (19:14). On the level of peshat – the straightforward interpretation – the Torah here warns against unfairly capitalizing on the disadvantaged condition of the handicapped to cause them harm; hence, the Torah immediately thereafter admonishes, "and you shall not place a stumbling block before a blind man." The Gemara, however, in Masekhet Sanhedrin (66b), based on other verses, claims that this prohibition actually includes all people; the Torah here forbids one from uttering maledictions against any fellow Jew.

The question, of course, arises as to why the Torah specified the deaf if this prohibition in fact applies to all people. One explanation, offered by the Rashbam and Ramban, is that the Torah chose the most common example of cursing, or the situation where improper conduct of this sort is most likely to occur. Since a deaf man is unaware of the imprecation uttered against him and thus has no opportunity to respond or defend himself, he is most vulnerable to this kind of verbal assault. Therefore, although this prohibition refers to all members of society, the Torah spoke specifically of this situation, where people are particularly tempted to utter harsh expletives against their fellow.

The Rambam, in his Sefer Ha-mitzvot (lo ta'aseh 317), explains differently. In his view, the Torah brings this specific example in order to emphasize that the prohibition against cursing one's fellow stands independent of any resulting emotional pain. The Torah's concern here, the Rambam writes, relates not so much to the person upon whom the curse is declared, but rather to the individual who declared it. As the Rambam describes, uttering a curse against somebody provides an outlet for venting anger and frustration. Often, a person who was wronged can satisfy his vengeful urge through verbal ranting, regardless of the tangible effect on the culprit, and even if he never hears what is said against him. We might suggest the modern-day example of shouting at reckless drivers on the road, even when all involved parties sit in their cars with the windows closed, unable to hear anything around them. According to the Rambam, even this type of cursing – when the subject cannot possibly hear or ever discover what was said – is forbidden. The Torah introduced this prohibition specifically with regard to the context of a deaf man in order to highlight the point that it does not depend upon the emotional harm caused to the person towards whom the curse is directed. Rather, the Torah urges us to curb our lust for vengeance, and to develop within ourselves the qualities of patience and forbearance. It is wrong to vent anger through inappropriate ranting, even in private, when nobody is present to hear the tirade.

The Sefer Ha-chinukh, though generally a loyal adherent to the Rambam's explanations, suggests two other approaches to understanding the prohibition of "You shall not curse a deaf man." First, he suggests that curses indeed yield a metaphysical effect upon the people to whom they are directed. While acknowledging that we cannot truly understand how and why curses yield such an effect, the Chinukh argues that the time-honored, universal belief in the power of curses provides sufficient evidence. The Chinukh then proceeds to suggest a philosophical approach to the practical effect of curses, based on the spiritual power of the faculty of human speech. In any event, the Chinukh's first approach to this prohibition involves the practical harm one can potentially cause by uttering a malediction. Presumably, according to this approach, the Torah speaks specifically of a deaf man in order to emphasize that curses can affect people regardless of whether or not they are aware of what has been said, and it is therefore forbidden to curse even a deaf person.

The Chinukh then suggests a much different explanation, claiming that this prohibition is intended to promote social harmony, by preventing people from speaking harshly against one another. And even if one utters his imprecation in private, or if he speaks about a deaf man, words have their way of making their way to the wrong ears. The Chinukh here makes reference to Shelomo Ha-melekh's famous comments in Sefer Kohelet (10:20) – "Don't malign a king even among your thoughts; don't malign a rich man even in your bedroom; for a bird of the air may carry the utterance… "

According to both approaches suggested by the Chinukh, this prohibition stems from the concern of the adverse practical effects of a curse, either metaphysical or social. The Rambam, by contrast, understood this prohibition as geared towards training us in the art of self-restraint and control, to accustom us to avoid feelings of anger, rather than allowing them to get the best of us and find expression through inappropriate means.

******

Yesterday, we looked at a debate among the Rishonim regarding the prohibition introduced in Parashat Kedoshim, "You shall not curse a deaf man" (19:14), which, as Rashi brings from Torat Kohanim, effectively establishes the prohibition against cursing any member of Am Yisrael. The Rambam, in his Sefer Ha-mitzvot (lo ta'aseh 317), explains this halakha as aimed at accustoming people to controlling their anger and suppressing their urge for reprisal. The Torah emphasized this point by singling out the case of cursing a deaf man. Even if the individual who arouses our ire will never hear our bitter ranting, we must nevertheless refrain from expressing ourselves inappropriately by uttering a malediction against him. The Sefer Ha-chinukh, by contrast, understands this prohibition in terms of the practical effects yielded by mean-spirited imprecations. He claims that curses uttered about others may, indeed, bring harm upon them, and, secondly, verbal hostility of this type is detrimental to societal life in general.

Rav Meir Simcha Ha-kohen of Dvinsk, in his Or Samei'ach (Hilkhot Sanhedrin 26), comments that the Rambam's position may perhaps shed some light on an otherwise enigmatic passage in the Gemara. In Masekhet Temura (3b-4a), the Gemara discusses the punishment of malkot (lashes) administered by the court to one who curses his fellow by invoking a Name of God. At one point in its discussion, the Gemara wonders why a violator in such a case deserves the possibility of atonement presented by corporal punishment. Cursing one's fellow with a divine Name constitutes a severe breach in both general categories of Torah law: an affront to the honor of God, and a disgraceful insult to a fellow Jew. Why, then, the Gemara asks, does the Beit-Din (court) administer malkot to this violator, thereby granting him the opportunity for expiation? The Gemara cryptically responds, "You cannot say so, for it is written: 'You shall not curse a deaf man'." Somehow, this verse dispels the notion that this two-tiered violation renders one undeserving of the possibility of atonement through corporal punishment. The Gemara does not explain, however, how this verse responds to the question posed.

Rav Meir Simcha suggests reading this exchange in light of the Rambam's position. Recall that according to the Rambam, the fact that the Torah introduces this prohibition by discussing the case of cursing a deaf man reflects the prohibition's underlying nature and purpose – to train a person in the art of self-restraint. By emphasizing that one may not curse even a person who cannot hear the words uttered against him, the Torah indicates that this prohibition exists independent of the malediction's effects on its subject, as it is concerned primarily with the spiritual character of the individual uttering the curse. Thus, the Gemara answers its question by taking note of the context within which the Torah forbids cursing one's fellow. Since this prohibition is aimed at accustoming people to control their tempers, rather than avoiding the infliction of harm on others, it is not a two-tiered prohibition, as the Gemara had originally assumed. In truth, this law does not belong at all to the realm of interpersonal relations, and should be seen only in terms of the spiritual development it is intended to engender. Thus, this violation, severe as it may be, should not deny the transgressor the opportunity of atonement through corporal punishment.

******

Parashat Kedoshim features the prohibition of lifnei iver lo titein mikhshol – "you shall not place a stumbling block before a blind man" (19:14). Chazal famously interpret this verse to mean that one may not mislead a person through poor advice, including assisting or encouraging him to violate the Torah.

An interesting debate exists among the Acharonim concerning the scope of this prohibition. According to most authorities, lifnei iver applies to assisting in any kind of halakhic violation, regardless of its origin and nature. One transgresses lifnei iver even if the violation he facilitates is an issur de-rabanan – a prohibition ordained by Chazal, rather than a Torah violation. This is the position of the Minchat Chinukh and Yad Malakhi, among others, and appears very compelling. After all, the Torah does not directly forbid assisting one in committing a violation. Rather, it prohibits "placing a stumbling block before a blind man," which Chazal understand as including misleading a person in religious matters. Presumably, then, the gravity or origin of the violation in question should be of no consequence; the moment a person helps another commit a halakhic wrong, he has violated the Torah prohibition of lifnei iver.

The Radbaz, however, in one of his responsa, disagrees, and limits the application of lifnei iver to cases involving Torah transgressions. Facilitating an act forbidden by Chazal does not, in the Radbaz's view, constitute a violation of lifnei iver. Later writers challenged this position, based on the argument mentioned above. Why does assisting in a rabbinic violation not qualify as placing a spiritual "stumbling block" before another Jew?

A clever answer to this question is cited from the work, Mishmeret Chayim. In a very famous passage, the Netivot (the classic work of Rav Yaakov of Lisa on Choshen Mishpat – 234:3) claims that an inadvertent violation of a rabbinic ordinance does not require atonement. When it comes to Torah law, one must undergo the process of teshuva (repentance) to achieve atonement even for violations committed inadvertently, as a result of insufficient knowledge and the like. (We will not deal here with the separate issue of violations committed due to circumstances entirely beyond one's control, such as the famous situation of leaning against a wall on Shabbat and turning the light switch.) The Torah holds one responsible even for inadvertent violations, and thus in these situations the transgressor must perform teshuva. However, according to the Netivot, no atonement is necessary for inadvertent violations of laws enacted by Chazal. He explains that Torah violations are objectively and inherently acts of sin, and thus demand a process of repentance even when they occur without willful intent (again, provided that the situation could have been avoided). Laws enacted by Chazal, by contrast, simply demand obedience and compliance; the Sages were not empowered to make an act inherently sinful, regardless of intent. Thus, one who unknowingly violates a rabbinic ordinance does not require atonement for this violation; since he did not willfully disobey the Rabbis, he has not committed a violation at all.

In light of this distinction, the Mishmeret Chayim suggests, we can perhaps understand the position of the Radbaz, limiting lifnei iver to situations of facilitating a Torah violation. In the Radbaz's view, lifnei iver means facilitating or encouraging the performance of an inherently detrimental act, such as recommending a bad purchase, or helping one to commit a Torah violation. It does not apply when the act facilitated is not inherently harmful, but rather may at some point yield negative effects. In a situation of an issur de-rabanan, the act itself is not inherently sinful; its significance lies only in the broader issue of disobedience towards Chazal. Hence, facilitating a violation of this sort does not qualify for lifnei iver, which relates only to assisting in the performance of inherently problematic actions.

Of course, this distinction requires further clarification. At first glance, one may argue that recommending the purchase of a poor-quality vehicle, for example, also does not involve an inherently detrimental act. It is only the long-term effects of the purchase – e.g. the poor performance of the vehicle at various points over the next several years – which cause harm to the victim. Seemingly, this should be no different than an issur de-rabanan according to the Netivot, where the broader implications of the action, rather than action itself, are negative. Hence, the Radbaz's position remains somewhat difficult to understand.

(Sources taken from Rav Matis Blum's Torah La-da'at)