Mishneh Torah as a Mirror of Self-reflection

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Artwork: Extraplanar Lens, by Noah Bradley

Mishneh Torah as a Mirror of Self-reflection

Background Info: The Uniqueness of the Mishneh Torah

The Mishneh Torah is a one-of-a-kind work. The Rambam did something that none of his predecessors even attempted: he compiled, organized, and codified ALL of the halachos for ALL of Taryag (613 mitzvos). The Rambam first mentioned this project in his introduction to the Sefer ha'Mitzvos:

I deemed it advisable to compile a compendium which would include all the laws of the Torah and its regulations, nothing missing in it ... so that this compendium would embrace all the laws of the Torah of Moshe our teacher, whether they have a bearing in the time of the exile or not ...

And I would include in it everything of the Torah that has been established and confirmed, omitting no question which might arise, or at least I would mention the principle by means of which that question can easily be resolved without too deep reflection.

Such was my goal to be in this work: brevity with completeness - so that the reader thereof might encompass all that is found in the Mishnah and the Talmud, Sifra, Sifre, and Tosefta, and more than that, all decrees and ordinances of the later Geonim, of blessed memory, as well as all that they have explained and commented upon concerning the prohibited and permissible, unclean and clean, invalid and valid, liable and free, pay and not pay, swear and free from swearing.

In short, outside of this work there was to be no need for another book to learn anything whatsoever that is required in the whole Torah, whether it be a law of the Scriptures or of the Rabbis.

The Mishneh Torah was revolutionary not only in its scope, but in its structure and organization. The Rambam describes his decision-making progress:

As I directed my attention toward this goal, I began thinking about how the division of this work, and the arrangement of its parts, were to be done. Should I divide it in accordance with the divisions of the Mishnah and follow in its footsteps, or should I divide it in some other way, arranging the subjects at the beginning or at the end of the work as logic will dictate, since this is the proper and easier way for learning? 

Then it became clear to me that in place of the tractates of the Mishnah, it would be best to arrange this work in groups of halachos, so that it would read: Hilchos Sukkah, Hilchos Lulav, Hilchos Mezuzah, Hilchos Tzitzis, and that I should divide every group of halachos into chapters and paragraphs, even as the Mishnah has done, so that, for example, in Hilchos Tefilin there would be chapters one, two, three, four, and each chapter would be subdivided into various laws, so that knowledge of it by heart should render it easy for one who wishes to learn something from it by memory. 

The Mishneh Torah is comprised of 1,000 chapters grouped into 83 topical sections ("Hilchos _____"), the contents of which are all arranged conceptual order. These 83 sections further grouped into fourteen "books" - each of which is devoted to a thematic supercategory which encompasses all of the mitzvos therein.

The ingenuity of the Rambam's achievement cannot be understated. R' Isadore Twersky, in his Introduction to the Code of Maimonides, is effusive in his praise:

This syntopic presentation reveals, with immediacy and force, the innovative character of Maimonides' classification. There is novelty in the grouping of laws. There is novelty in the creation and delimitation of certain sections. There is novelty in the nomeclature, rather imaginative and often felicitous. There is novelty in the interpretations which inform and validate the juxtaposition of sections as there is in the entire sequential order, starting with the theoretical-ethical foundations of Torah, moving through the varied realms of ritual, and culminating in an imaginatively conceived presentation of civil and criminal, and we might add, constitutional, law. There is novelty in the amount of extra-Talmudic material and the generally smooth integration of halachic exposition with philosophical-ethical explication. There is also, as we have seen, novelty in the scope and style - in short, in daring to undertake a work of such magnitude and structure. This many-splendored novelty must be confronted and appreciated ... If, as Aristotle said, "it is the business of the wise man to order," Maimonides displayed great wisdom in his ordering and structuring of halacha. Diderot's evaluation of Leibniz is applicable: "He combined two great qualities which are almost incompatible with one another - the spirit of discovery and that of method" ... 

The fact is that there is no antecedent, or indeed sequel, in Rabbinic literature for such a keen, energetic, and comprehensive classification, nor is there any parallel to its rigor, precision, and conceptual tidiness.

There is obviously much more one can say about the greatness of the Mishneh Torah. I have limited myself here to a brief description as an introduction to the primary topic of this post.

The Crowning Pesukim

The Rambam begins each of his fourteen books with a "crowning" pasuk from Nach - a pasuk which encapsulate the overall philosophy or character of the mitzvos expounded upon in that book. For example:

Sefer ha'Mada (The Book of the Knowledge) is about mitzvos which pertain to the foundational principles of Torah; the crowning pasuk of this book is: "Extend Your kindness to those who know You, and Your righteousness to those with upright hearts" (Tehilim 36:11). 

Sefer Ahava (The Book of Love) is about mitzvos which are designed to continually remind us to love and remember God; the crowning pasuk of this book is: "How much I have loved Your Torah! All day long it is my conversation" (ibid. 119:97). 

Sefer Zmanim (The Book of Times) is about mitzvos which are obligatory at specific times - most of which are mitzvos described by the Torah as "testimonies" since they bear witness to historical events involving God's intervention; the bulk of these mitzvos are associated with the joyous moadim (holidays); the crowning pasuk of this book is: "I have inherited Your testimonies forever, for they are the joy of my heart" (ibid. 119:111).

The Rambam also chose a pasuk as a "crown" for the Mishneh Torah as a whole. That pasuk is:

"Then I will not be ashamed 

when I gaze upon all of Your mitzvos" 

(Tehilim 119:6) 

Just as the crowning pasuk for each of the fourteen books was chosen to epitomize the character of all the mitzvos in that book, the crowning pasuk of the Mishneh Torah was chosen to represent all of Taryag.

The Questions

When this pasuk was first brought to my attention, it struck me as strange. The implication is that we are - or ought to be - in a perpetual state of shame as our "default mode," and that the antidote to this shame is contained within the Mishneh Torah. Then (i.e. after we have mastered the Mishneh Torah) we will no longer be ashamed. 

This raises two questions:

1. What shame are we in / supposed to be in? What is the nature of this shame? What are its effects? What if we don't feel like we experience this shame? 
2. How, exactly, does the Mishneh Torah help us to remove this shame? Does the Rambam mean that someone who learns the Mishneh Torah will remove this shame, or is his implication that this shame will only be removed if we succeed in following all of the mitzvos in the Mishneh Torah? Or is it something else altogether?

I've been wanting to write about this for a while, but I wasn't clear enough on the idea to do it justice. I even raised the question in an earlier blog post about shame, but didn't propose an answer.

[Note: the answer I am about to suggest was arrived at without looking at the pasuk in Tehilim in its context. Perhaps I will offer a second answer using that route at a later time.]

An Answer

This past Shabbos I was reading The Week magazine and I came across a quotation which perfectly expressed the idea I wished to convey. That quotation came from the Swedish writer Alain de Botton, and it goes like this:

"If we are not regularly deeply embarrassed by who we are, the journey to self-knowledge hasn't begun."

The Torah is the God-given regimen to success as a human being, as the Ralbag explained in his introduction to his commentary on Sefer Bereishis. The very notion of a "regimen" presupposes that if we attempt to succeed on our own, we are at a disadvantage. To quote Eric Hoffer: "Animals can learn, but it is not by learning that they become dogs, cats, or horses. Only man has to learn to become what he is supposed to be." It is extremely difficult to simply be human without the aid of a program - which is exactly why the Creator of man provided us with the perfect program.

It follows, then, that to the extent that we have not "mastered" the Torah regimen, we are lacking in a fundamental way: we are living our human lives without knowing how to live as humans! Such an approach to life is shameful indeed. This is the type of shame that the Rambam was referring to by citing the pasuk from Tehilim - not the Christian shame of religious guilt, nor the relativistic shame of being obsessed with what people will think of you. The Rambam is talking about the shame that comes from our recognition that we are "[walking in] darkness, not knowing [on what] we stumble" (cf. Mishlei 3:19) and our realization that: 

The words of prophecy are like the words of a sealed document, which one gives to a literate person, saying, "Please read this," and he says, "I cannot, for it is sealed." Then the document is given to an illiterate person, saying, "Please read this," and he says, "I am illiterate" (Yeshayahu 29:11-12).

The more we understand Taryag, the more cognizant we will be of the type of life we lived before we learned Taryag. And as we reach each developmental breakthrough in our Torah-growth, it is as if we are being told by the Rambam (borrowing the words of Simon Stimson from Thorton Wilder's Our Town):

"Yes, now you know. Now you know! That's what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those ... of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To always be at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know - that's the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness."

This recognition of how we once lived and how there is much room there is for development is bound to cause shame (the good kind) in those who have embarked on this lifelong journey of Torah-development. Lefum tzaara agra ("The reward is in accordance with the suffering").

Conclusion

The Mishneh Torah is a multifaceted sefer, seen differently by different groups of people. They layperson relates to it as a halachic code, just like the others. The Briskers regard it as a repository of lomdus and sevara. The Yemenites treasure it as the bedrock of their halachic culture.

It is said that my Chumash rebbi was in the habit of referring to the Mishneh Torah as "the mirror of self-reflection." Personally, that is how I choose view it. And in light of my understanding of the Mishneh Torah's crowning pasuk, I believe that the Rambam would approve of this characterization, and endorse this approach to his magnum opus.

Mishlei 16:18 - Pride Goeth Before the Fall

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Artwork: Tragic Arrogance, by Winona Nelson

Mishlei 16:18 - Pride Goeth Before the Fall

I am 99% certain that the English proverb "pride goeth before the fall" comes from a pasuk in Mishlei. In this post we will examine the actual pasuk, and I will present an idea from one of my students (with my own embellishments).

משלי טז:יח

לִפְנֵי שֶׁבֶר גָּאוֹן וְלִפְנֵי כִשָּׁלוֹן גֹּבַהּ רוּחַ:

Mishlei 16:18

Arrogance comes before breaking, and haughtiness comes before stumbling.

The questions here are pretty straightforward: 

1. What is the pasuk teaching us about arrogance? It can't just be saying that arrogant people make mistakes; that's too simple of an idea for Mishlei. 
2. Why does the pasuk seemingly repeat itself with only slight changes in the wording? Specifically, what is the differences between "gaon" ("arrogance") and "govah ruach" ("haughtiness"), and between "shever" (breaking) and kishalon ("stumbling")? Note: Some meforshim, like Metzudas David and Ralbag, might answer questions like this by saying: "Shlomo just repeated himself using different words." But my approach to Mishlei is to try finding a reason for the repetition, and only make recourse to the "same idea, different words" answer as a last-ditch resort.
3. Why are the two halves of the pasuk arranged in this order? "Breaking" seems like a stronger term than "stumbling." To place this term first is odd, from a rhetorical standpoint. For example, if you want to warn someone, you don't say, "You might DIE or even TRIP!" but rather "You might TRIP or even DIE!"

[If you're playing along at home, feel free to think at this point before reading on.]

As is my standard practice, I will now summarize the main idea in four (long) sentences:

The baal gaivah (egotistical person) is bound to fail, due to his overestimation of his own greatness (gaon) and his egocentric view of his place in reality (govah ruach); our pasuk underscores the inevitability of his fate by saying: “A comes before B, and C comes before D” – as if to say that this is a natural and unavoidable sequence of events. 

The downfall of the baal gaivah is twofold: (1) he will experience the harmful consequences of his poor decision-making (“stumbling”), and (2) he will suffer a severe emotional blow to his ego when he is forced to confront the fact that he is not as great as he would like to believe (“breaking”); since this blow to his ego will cause him more pain than the actual consequences of his decisions, the pasuk puts “breaking” before “stumbling.” 

This pasuk was not written for the baal gaivah, since he is unlikely to take it to heart; moreover, even if the baal gaivah experiences these effects, he is likely to continue in his arrogant and haughty ways, since he will not be willing to face the fact that he has a flaw which needs to be corrected. 

This pasuk was intended for those on the Mishleic spectrum who do not suffer from gaivah as a dominant character trait, but who - like all human beings - are prone to bouts of gaivah in varying degrees from time to time; this pasuk will help these individuals to vigilantly guard themselves against the insidious and disastrous effects of arrogance and haughtiness. 

If this explanation is correct, then it stands as a good example of how nearly all the subtlety of Shlomo ha'Melech's wisdom is lost when his words are crudely translated into English and condensed into a non-Jewish-style proverb. 

"Are Mitzvos Arbitrary?" or "The Pillow Mashal"

Originally published in July 2013. It is recommended to read Rambam: On the Reasons for Mitzvos before reading this post.

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"Are Mitzvos Arbitrary?" or "The Pillow Mashal"

Summary of the Rambam's View

This post is about the Rambam's view of taamei ha'mitzvos (the reasons for the commandments), as stated in his Guide for the Perplexed 3:26. Although I posted the full translation of this chapter yesterday, I'll summarize it here and then state the central question/problem which will be the focus of this post.

According to the Rambam, Chazal unanimously held that all mitzvos have reasons and were commanded for our benefit - even chukim. The only thing preventing us from knowing these reasons is our own ignorance. 

However, there is one puzzling statement from Chazal which seems to imply that some mitzvos do not have reasons:

What difference does it make to Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu whether an animal is slaughtered by shechitah (cutting the front of the neck) or by nechirah ("poleaxing it" i.e. chopping the back of its neck)? Surely the mitzvos were only given in order to test human beings, as it is stated: "The word of Hashem is tested (lit. refined)" (Tehilim 18:31).

On the surface, this statement implies that there is no real reason for shechitah over nechirah. This would appear to undermine the otherwise unanimously accepted principle that all of the mitzvos have reasons.

The Rambam resolves this apparent contradiction by making a subdivision. He writes that 

the mitzvos have specific reasons as far as their general character is concerned, and were commanded for a specific purpose; but as regards to their particulars - that is where we say that they have no reason other than being commanded.

He then explains the aforementioned statement of Chazal on the basis of this distinction. The general character of shechitah has a reason (i.e. that we should kill an animal before eating it, instead of eating it while it is still alive), but the particular requirements of shechitah (e.g. cutting the windpipe and esophagus, sharpening the knife, etc.) have no reason other than the commandment itself.

The Question/Problem

The problem is that in the very next sentence, the Rambam asserts that there are reasons for such details! He writes that the specific requirements for shechitah (e.g. cutting the windpipe and esophagus) are designed to ensure an easy death for the animal, and requiring a sharp knife is more convenient than requiring something like a sword or an ax.

The Rambam then proceeds to fall into the same apparent contradiction, but in an even more extreme way. First he boldly states that anyone who spends time seeking reasons for the details of mitzvos is "chasing after a huge delusion," and "will increase difficulties rather than remove them," and "is as far from the truth as one who assume that the entire mitzvah is without any real purpose." But then, at the end of the chapter, he declares his intention to explain the reasons for all of the mitzvos, including "the reasons for many of the conditions and details, as far as these can be discovered"!

And the Rambam follows through on this promise. For example, in his explanation of korbanos, he first writes that "we cannot say why one korban should be a lamb whilst another is a ram, and why a fixed number of them should be brought" and supports this claim with a solid argument. Yet, in subsequent chapters, the Rambam provides philosophical reasons for these very details!

All of this leaves us wondering what the Rambam really holds. The bottom-line question is: Do the details of mitzvos have reasons, or are they arbitrary? If the former, then what does the Rambam mean when he emphatically states that the particulars of mitzvos have no reasons, and that it is delusional to look for such reasons. And if the latter, then how can the Rambam offer reasons for such details? And if some details do have reasons and others are arbitrary, how can we know which is which? 

And, at the end of the day, we are still left with the question: From a philosophical, non-halachic standpoint, does God care about shechitah (vs. nechirah) or not?

The Answer: the Three Tiers of Mitzvah Design

Here's the plan: First I will state my answer with the briefest of explanations. I will then elaborate on the answer by means of a detailed mashal (analogy). I will follow that up by showing how this answer plays out in another mitzvah (arbah minim). I will conclude by answering the question about shechitah.

Every* mitzvah is a complex structural system comprised of many particular halachos. When analyzing taamei ha'mitzvos - that is, engaging in a speculative philosophical analysis of the reasons for mitzvos, as opposed to a purely halachic (or Talmudic) analysis - these halachos can be divided into three groups. For the sake of brevity, we will henceforth refer to these groups as Tier 1, Tier 2, and Tier 3. Here are their definitions:

Tier 1: halachos which are designed to directly facilitate the mitzvah's primary purpose
Tier 2: halachos which serve a secondary purpose - one which may or may not be related to the primary purpose of the mitzvah
Tier 3: halachos that are best described as "arbitrary technicalities" which have no purpose whatsoever, and only exist because of structural necessity

If at this point these distinctions are not clear, have no fear! The following mashal will (I hope) clear everything up.

The Pillow Mashal 

Let us perform a thought-experiment. Imagine that you are an owner of a pillow factory, producing bed pillows for sleeping. You must draft a set of pillow-making regulations and procedures which will yield high-quality pillows.

Where should you begin? By defining the purpose of a bed pillow, of course. The purpose of a bed pillow is to provide support and comfort for the head while sleeping or lying down. (I'm sure someone can come up with a more precise formulation for the purpose of a pillow, but this is sufficient for the purposes of this mashal.) 

This definition of the pillow's function will serve as our guiding principle in pillow-making. If we produce an object which fails to serve this function, then then object is not a successful pillow. Moreover, the superiority and inferiority of our pillows will be measured by the extent to which they achieve this purpose.

Tier 1 Design Features

Basically, there are two structural components of a pillow: the pillowcase and the stuffing. Of the two, the latter is primary, since the pillowcase is only there to contain the stuffing, and would be completely dispensable if the stuffing could be self-contained.

The purpose of a pillow which we outlined above directly dictates the general character of what can and can't be used for stuffing. The general guideline may be stated as follows: in order for a pillow to fulfill its purpose, its stuffing must consist of a material which is soft. Examples of adequate materials are feathers, down, cotton, and certain synthetic materials. A pillow filled with sticks, stones, or shards of glass would not be suitable for the pillow's function.

This is an example of a "Tier 1" feature of the pillow's design, since the requirement of "softness" directly facilitates the primary purpose of the pillow. 

Tier 2 Design Features

But once we've narrowed the field down to "soft materials," this doesn't mean that anything goes. The material we use must possess other qualities which are not directly related to the primary function of the pillow. Some of these qualities might contribute to the primary function in an indirect manner, whereas others will serve secondary roles which are entirely unrelated to the pillow's primary function.

For example, the material we select must be non-perishable. A pillow stuffed with mashed bananas, beef tallow, or carrion might be comfortable, but it wouldn't last very long (and the resulting odor would preclude a comfortable sleep for olfactory reasons). Likewise, the material we select must be available for use. The feathers of the threatened Northern Spotted Owl, the now extinct North Island Giant Moa, or the prehistoric Archaeopteryx might make for a comfy pillow, but the unavailability these materials makes them impractical for pillow-making. The material we select must also be safe. A pillow made of asbestos might provide a satisfying sleep, but it will also shorten your lifespan; a pillow from Chernobyl is just as soft as a pillow from Albequerque, but is likely to produce undesirable effects. 

The need for our pillow-stuffing to be non-perishable, available, and safe are all "Tier 2" requirements. Each of these characteristics serves a purpose, but unlike the "Tier 1" requirement of softness, they do not directly serve the primary function of the pillow (i.e. to provide support and comfort for the head). 

As can be seen from these examples, Tier 2 considerations are often the basis of deciding among otherwise equal or viable Tier 1 candidates. For example, polyester and memory foam are both soft, but memory foam is more hygienic, and is therefore advantageous. Eiderdown and goose down are both soft, but although eiderdown makes for a more comfortable pillow, it is more costly, and might prove to be a disadvantage from a financial standpoint.

But there are other Tier 2 aspects of the design which must be determined even after we settle on the ideal stuffing. One example of this is the aesthetic qualities of the pillow. Sometimes the decisions we make about the appearance of the pillow might be indirectly related to the pillow's primary function. For example, it can be argued that the colors "pure white" and "sky blue" contribute to a greater sense of psychological comfort than "jaundice yellow" or "barf brown." Likewise, a pillow should appear inviting and evoke positive feelings. If a pillow's appearance triggered negative feelings, this might detract from the Tier 1 superiority of the pillow as an object of comfort.

All things being equal, most girls will prefer the pillow on the right based on Tier 2 considerations.

On the other hand, the pillow's appearance might be dictated by factors which have nothing to do with the primary function of the pillow. For example, colored pillows might be more expensive to produce than white pillows, or perhaps a certain color is preferable because it is more popular among a certain consumer population (e.g. pink for girls), or perhaps making pillows in a variety of colors will lead to greater brand exposure.

All of these Tier 2 features are important, and all Tier 2 design-decisions will be made on the basis of specific reasons, but none of these reasons are directly related to the primary function of the pillow.

Tier 3 Design Features

The Tier 3 features are necessary, but arbitrary in their specifics. For example, let's say we choose to make our pillows out of eiderdown because it is the softest material (Tier 1). We are willing to forego the cost (Tier 2) because we plan on marketing our pillows to wealthy consumers (Tier 2). We decide to use eiderdown from Iceland rather than China for political reasons (Tier 2) and we decide to go with "free range" eider ducks in order to make a public statement about animal cruelty (Tier 2), ensuring brand loyalty (Tier 2) among a subsection of our consumers.

But now we find ourselves at the eider duck farm in Iceland and it is time to choose which flock of ducks we will use for our first run of pillows. We will have to choose ducks of a certain a size and age in order to ensure the highest quality feathers (Tier 1), but out of the thousands of eider ducks within that large category, which particular ducks will we use? This decision is completely arbitrary (Tier 3). No matter how the decision is made - whether by the age of the ducks, or their size, or by a random lottery - it will be neither informed nor influenced by the primary function of the pillow, nor by any secondary considerations. Tier 1 and Tier 2 decisions must be based on reasons; Tier 3 decisions do not.

Consider another example: the exact size of the pillow. Of course, there will be a certain size-range which is determined based on Tier 1 considerations. Generally speaking, the pillow will need to accommodate an average-sized head. There are four basic pillow sizes: standard (20" by 26"), queen (20" by 30"), king (20" by 36"), and euro (26" by 26").

But why settle on 20" by 26" for a standard sized pillow? Why not 20" by 25.5" or 21" by 27"? The answer is that this aspect of the pillow's design is arbitrary. The range of sizes was set by Tier 1 considerations, but the specific dimensions within that range has absolutely no reason, other than the fact that some length had to be chosen.

One last example of a Tier 3 quality: the particular hue of the pillow's color. We've already mentioned that the color of the pillow is a valid Tier 2 consideration, but within each color, there are an infinite number of hues. There might be a Tier 2 difference between blue and red, and there might even be a Tier 2 difference between light blue and dark blue, but at some point, the choice between hues of blue is arbitrary.

There might be reasons for choosing between 01 and 20,
but the choice of 11 over 10 is arbitrary.

The Answer: Restated

By now I hope the analogy is clear. Just like there are three tiers in the design of pillows, so too, there are three tiers in the design of mitzvos. Certain features of a mitzvah's design are directly dictated by its primary purpose - just like the Tier 1 characteristic of a pillow (i.e. its soft stuffing) is directly dictated by the pillow's function (i.e. to provide support and comfort for the head while sleeping or lying down). Other features of a mitzvah's structure serve secondary purposes which may or may not be related to the primary reason - just like the Tier 2 design considerations of the pillow (e.g. its color, its cost, its durability, etc.). Last but not least, there are aspects of the mitzvah which are completely arbitrary from a taamei ha'mitzvos standpoint - just like the Tier 3 specifications of the pillow (i.e. which specific specimens its materials derive from, its exact dimensions, and its precise hue).

Some people find this last category difficult to accept. "How can a mitzvah contain something arbitrary, without any purpose? Isn't that an imperfection in the Torah? How can we believe that Hashem would command us in something for no reason?" I will repeat the Rambam's response to these types of objections:

It is important for you to know that chochmah demanded it - or, if you prefer, say that necessity dictated - that there should be parts [of the mitzvos] for which reasons are inapplicable; it is, as it were, inherently impossible for the mitzvah not to have something of this type.

Any mitzvah which involves physical phenomena will, of necessity, have quantifiable characteristics, such a length, height, volume, duration, number of components, etc. The Tier 1 and Tier 2 design-considerations will usually dictate a certain range of values for these quantities, but once you get down to a certain level of specificity, the final number will have to be arbitrary. This is what the Rambam meant when he said:

It is almost similar to the nature of a thing which can potentially receive different forms, but actually receives only one of them: we must not ask why it has this form and not another which is likewise possible, because we should have to ask the same question if instead of its actual form the thing had any of the other possible forms. Note this, and understand it.

We will now examine two examples from the mitzvah system - arbah minim and shechitah - in light of our answer.

The Three Tiers of Arbah Minim

The mitzvah of the arbah minim is to pick up the four species of vegetation specified by the Torah, on the first day of the Chag ha'Sukkos. The Rambam states his theory about the purpose of this mitzvah in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:43:

It appears to me that the four species of the lulav are [an expression of] joy and gladness for going out from the Wilderness – which was a place “without seed, fig, vine, and pomegranate, and without any water to drink” (Bamidbar 20:5) – to a place of fruit-trees and rivers. Therefore, in order to remember this, we take the most beautiful of its fruits, and a fragrant [plant], and beautiful leaves, and the most beautiful of herbs – that is, the willows of the brook.

The Rambam then goes on to explain why these four species in particular (i.e. citron, date palm, myrtle, and brook-willow) were chosen:

These four species have three common denominators. First, they were plentiful in the Land of Israel at that time and everyone was able to obtain them. Secondly, they are exceedingly beautiful in their appearance and aesthetic qualities; some of them – namely, the citron and the myrtle – are fragrant, but the date palm and the willows have neither a good nor a bad smell. The third quality is that they retain their appearance for seven days, which is not the case with peaches, pomegranates, asparagus, nuts, and the like.

Note the difference between the Rambam's two explanations. The explanation in the first paragraph pertains to Tier 1 features, which relate directly to the primary reason for the mitzvah: we joyously pick up beautiful species of plants in order to express our gratitude to Hashem for taking us from the barren Wilderness into the fertile Land of Israel. In contrast, the explanations mentioned in the second paragraph all pertain to Tier 2 features of the mitzvah, and the reasons provided are secondary.

Allow me to spell out the implications of this. The Rambam implies that the mitzvah of arbah minim could have served its primary purpose if we had been required to pick up four species of, say, exotic orchids. The only problem is that orchids are not plentiful in Israel. Similarly, the mitzvah could have served its primary function if we had been commanded to pick up an oleander instead of a myrtle. However, the Gemara (Sukkah 32b) explains that the oleander - which is poisonous - would not be in line with the Torah's nature, as described by Shlomo ha'Melech: "its ways are ways of pleasantness" (Mishlei 3:17). Likewise, the Torah could have even used pomegranates and peaches were it not for the fact that their appearance dwindles in beauty and freshness over the seven day period.

As for Tier 3 features: the Rambam doesn't mention any, but they certainly exist. For example, a lulav must be at least four tefachim (handbreadths) long. The Gemara explains that it must be long enough to shake. Fine; we can understand why being long enough to shake is a Tier 1 or Tier 2 consideration - but why exactly four tefachim? Wouldn't five tefachim also be reasonable? What about 10 etzbaos (finger-breadths), or one amah? 

The same might be said for the requirement of four species. It would seem that the mitzvah could have fulfilled its primary purpose if three or five species were required. The same can be said for many of the detailed specifications of the halachic blemishes which disqualify the four species: once it became necessary to include blemishes within the structure of the mitzvah (due to Tier 1 reasons), halacha had to define these blemishes in a precise, quantifiable manner. At a certain level of detail, halacha had to draw the line at an arbitrary point, just like in any other legal system or design.

(Note: Some of you might be wondering, "Isn't it necessary for there to be these four specific species to teach us specific ideas, as explained by Chazal - like the four types of Jews, or the four parts of the body used in serving Hashem?" The Rambam maintains that these statements of Chazal are just drash, and don't have anything to do with the real purpose of arbah minim; read Pshat vs. Drash II for an elaboration on this point.)

The Three Tiers of Shechitah

Now we are finally ready to answer our original question: from a philosophical, non-halachic standpoint, does God care about shechitah? The answer is: "no" in a Tier 1 framework, and "yes" in a Tier 2 framework. Rambam explains the reasons for the mitzvah of shechitah in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:48:

It is prohibited to cut off a limb of a living animal and eat it, because such act would produce cruelty, and develop it; the gentile kings used to do this, and it was also done for avodah zarah – namely, they would cut a specific limb of an animal and eat it … The mitzvah concerning the killing of animals is necessary, because the natural food of man consists of vegetables and of the flesh of animals, and the best meat is that of animals permitted to be used as food; no doctor has any doubts about this. Since, therefore, the desire of procuring good food necessitates the slaughtering of animals, the Torah enjoins that the death of the animal should be the easiest, and prohibits us to torment the animal by cutting the throat in a crude manner, or by poleaxing, or by cutting off a limb whilst the animal is alive.

If we consider this excerpt in light of the previously cited excerpt on shechitah, it would seem that according to the Rambam the primary purpose of shechitah is to ensure that we eat the flesh of dead animals, and not living animals. Even non-Jews are prohibited from eating a limb from a living animal. From this Tier 1 perspective, God doesn't care whether we kill an animal by shechitah, nechirah, or bazooka.

However, once God saw fit (so to speak) to obligate us to kill an animal before eating it, He legislated a specific method of killing the animal with specific requirements. Some of these requirements are in line with the primary purpose (i.e. distancing us from animalistic behavior and cruelty), some requirements serve secondary purposes (i.e. the ease of the method and the availability of the slaughtering instrument), and other requirements have no specific purpose at all. From this Tier 2 perspective, there is a big difference between killing an animal through shechitah vs. nechirah, and God does care about that difference. 

Conclusion

I have heard people summarize the Rambam's view by saying, "Rambam holds that the details of mitzvos are arbitrary" or "Rambam holds that there are no reasons for the majority of halacha." There is even a well-known acharon who lambasted the Rambam for this point. 

In my opinion, the Rambam's view is far more nuanced than these crude summaries make it out to be. I believe that if we understand the Rambam's explanation in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim - especially regarding Tier 3 - then the objections raised against his view fall away. I also believe that a number of objections raised by people against mitzvos - in general or in particular - can be easily resolved if one understands the three-tiered nature of mitzvah-design. 

I hope this explanation has clarified the subject of taamei ha'mitzvos, and enhanced your appreciation of the chochmah of the Torah system. 

* This only applies to what Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda refers to as chovos ha'eivarim ("duties of the limbs") - that is to say, mitzvos which involve actions. 

Rambam: On the Reasons for Mitzvos

The following is a translation of a full chapter of the Guide for the Perplexed (3:26) in which the Rambam establishes some fundamental principles about the reasons for mitzvos. This post stands on its own, but is also the basis of tomorrow's post, entitled: "Are Mitzvos Arbitrary?" The paragraph divisions and headings are mine. 

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Rambam: On the Reasons for Mitzvos (Guide for the Perplexed 3:26)

All Mitzvos Have Reasons

Just as religious scholars are divided on the question of whether the actions of God are the result of His Wisdom, or only of His Will without being intended for any purpose whatsoever, so they are also divided as regards the purpose of the mitzvos which God gave us. 

Some of them hold that the commandments have no purpose at all and are only dictated by the whim of God. Others are of the opinion that all commandments and prohibitions are dictated by His wisdom and serve a certain aim. Consequently there is a reason for each one of the precepts: they are commanded because they are useful. 

All of us, the common people as well as the scholars, believe that there is a reason for every mitzvah, although there are mitzvos the reason of which is unknown to us, and in which the ways of God's wisdom are incomprehensible. This view is distinctly expressed in Scripture, as it is stated, "chukim (statutes) and mishpatim (judgments) of justice" (Devarim 4:8), “The mishpatim of Hashem are true and righteous altogether” (Tehilim 19:10). 

Even Chukim Have Reasons

There are mitzvos which are called chukim (statutes), such as the prohibition of wearing garments of wool and linen [mixed together] (shaatnez), boiling meat and milk together, and the sending of the goat [into the wilderness on Yom ha’Kippurim]. Regarding these the Sages said: “I, [Hashem,] have ordained these for you; you do not have permission to be suspicious of them, and the satan flings accusations on account of them, and the gentile nations argue against them” (Yoma 67b).

The multitude of Sages generally do not think that such mitzvos have no reason whatsoever and serve no purpose, for this would lead us to assume that God's actions are in vain. On the contrary, they maintain that even these chukim have a reason – that is to say, a specific, beneficial reason – even if it eludes us, owing either to the weakness of our intellect or the deficiency of our knowledge.

Consequently, the Sages are of the opinion that there are reasons for every mitzvah: every positive or negative precept serves a beneficial purpose. In some cases the usefulness is evident, for example, the prohibition of murder and theft; in others the usefulness is not so evident, for example, the prohibition of orlah (deriving benefit from the fruit of a tree in the first three years) or kilai ha’kerem (deriving benefit from the produce of a mixed-species vineyard). Those commandments whose purpose is generally evident are called mishpatim, and those whose purpose is not generally clear are called chukim.

Concealed Reasons

The Sages continually say: “ki lo davar reik hu mi’kem – for it is not an empty thing for you’ (Devarim 32:47) – and if you find it to be a davar reik (empty thing), it is mi’kem (lit. from you)” (Yerushalmi Peah 1:4). In other words, this mitzvah is not an empty thing without any beneficial purpose, and if it appears to you that any one of the mitzvos is like this, this is due to a deficiency in your understanding.

You certainly know the famous saying that the reasons for all of the mitzvos were known to Shlomo except that of the parah adumah (red heifer). Our Sages also said that Hashem concealed the reasons for the mitzvos lest people should make light of them, as Shlomo did in respect to three mitzvos, the reasons for which are clearly stated. All of [the Sages’] words follow this fundamental principle, and it is indicated by the text of the pesukim.

A Puzzling Statement

I have, however, found one utterance made by them in Bereishis Rabbah (Section 44) from which, at first glance, it would appear that some mitzvos have no other reason but the fact that they are commanded, and that no other objective is intended by them, and that they do not serve any real purpose. I mean the following passage: 

What difference does it make to Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu whether an animal is slaughtered by shechitah (cutting the front of the neck) or by nechirah ("poleaxing it" i.e. chopping the back of its neck)? Surely the mitzvos were only given in order to test human beings, as it is stated: "The word of Hashem is tested (lit. refined)" (Tehilim 18:31). 

Although this passage is exceedingly strange and has no parallel in the writings of our Sages, I will explain it - as you shall soon hear - in such a manner that I do not stray at all from their words and do not depart from the unanimous fundamental principle, namely, that all mitzvos serve a real, beneficial objective, [as it is stated:] "for it is not an empty thing for you," and as it is stated:"I did not tell the descendants of Yaakov to seek Me for nothing; I am Hashem, Who speaks righteousness" (Yeshayahu 45:19). 

Resolution of the Difficulty

I will now tell you what all people with sound minds ought to maintain in this respect, namely, that all of the mitzvos have specific reasons as far as their general character is concerned, and were commanded for a specific purpose; but as regards to their particulars - that is where we say that they have no reason other than being commanded. 

For example: killing animals for the purpose of obtaining nutrition is clearly beneficial, as we intend to show (see 3:48). However, that the killing should not be performed by nechirah but by shechitah (cutting the neck), and by dividing the esophagus and the windpipe in a certain place - these regulations and the like are nothing but tests for man. In this sense you will understand the example quoted by our Sages [that there is no difference] between killing the animal by shechitah or by nechirah. 

I give this instance only because it has been mentioned by our Sages, but in reality [there is some reason for these regulations:] once it has become necessary to eat the flesh of animals, it was intended by the above regulations to ensure an easy death and to effect it by suitable means; while decapitation requires a sword or a similar instrument, shechitah can be performed with any instrument; and in order to ensure an easy death our Sages insisted that the knife should be well sharpened.

Another Example

A better example of the point we made about [reasons for] the particulars of mitzvos is korbanos (sacrifices). The law that korbanos should be brought is tremendously beneficial, as will be shown by us (see 3:46), but we cannot say why one korban should be a lamb whilst another is a ram, and why a fixed number of them should be brought. Those who trouble themselves to find reasons for any of these details are chasing after a huge delusion - one which not only fails to remove any difficulties, but increases them. Anyone who believes that these [details of the laws] have a purpose is as far from the truth as one who assumes that the entire mitzvah is without any real purpose. 

It is important for you to know that chochmah (wisdom) demanded it - or, if you prefer, say that necessity dictated - that there should be parts [of the mitzvos] for which reasons are inapplicable; it is, as it were, inherently impossible for the mitzvah not to have something of this type.

That this cannot be avoided may be seen from the following: You ask, "Why must a lamb be sacrificed and not a ram?" But the same question would be asked why a ram had been commanded instead of a lamb - so long as one particular kind is required. The same is to be said as to the question why were seven lambs sacrificed and not eight: the same question might have been asked if there were eight, ten, or twenty lambs - so long as some definite number of lambs were sacrificed. It is almost similar to the nature of a thing which can potentially receive different forms, but actually receives only one of them: we must not ask why it has this form and not another which is likewise possible, because we should have to ask the same question if instead of its actual form the thing had any of the other possible forms. Note this, and understand it. 

The repeated assertion of our Sages that there are reasons for all mitzvos, and the tradition that Solomon knew them, refers to the general purpose of the mitzvos, but one should not inquire about their details.

Rambam's Plan for Explaining Mitzvos

This being the case, I find it convenient to divide the six hundred and thirteen mitzvos into a number of classes: each class will include many mitzvos of the same kind, or related to each other by their character. I will [first] explain the reason of each class, and show its undoubted and undisputed benefit; then I shall discuss each mitzvah in the class, and expound its reason. Only very few will be left unexplained, the reason for which I have been unable to trace unto this day. I have also been able to comprehend in some cases even the reasons for many of the conditions and details, as far as these can be discovered. You will hear all this later on. But in order to fully explain these reasons I must preface this with several chapters; in these I will discuss principles which form the basis of my theory. I will now begin these chapters.

Parashas Korach: Judaism's Take on Egalitarianism

Originally published in June 2015 under the title: "Parashas Korach: Divinely Chosen - Nothing Personal." 

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Artwork: Commander's Authority, by Johanes Voss

Parashas Korach: Judaism's Take on Egalitarianism

Korach spearheaded his movement by preaching a grandiose populist ideology: "It is too much for you! For the entire assembly - all of them - are holy and Hashem is among them; why do you exalt yourselves over the congregation of Hashem?" (Bamidbar 16:3). 

However, according to Rashi (Bamidbar 16:1), Korach's entire rebellion was fueled by a personal vendetta against Moshe Rabbeinu: 

What made Korach decide to quarrel with Moshe? He envied the chieftainship of Elitzaphan the son of Uziel whom Moshe appointed as chieftain over the sons of Kehas by the [Divine] word. Korach claimed, “My father and his brothers were four [in number]” as it says, “The sons of Kohath were [Amram, Yitzhar, Chevron, and Uziel]” (Shemos 6:18). Amram was the first, and his two sons received greatness - one a king and one a kohen gadol. Who is entitled to receive the second [position]? Is it not I, who am the son of Yitzhar, who is the second brother to Amram? And yet, he [Moses] appointed to the chieftainship the son of his youngest brother! I hereby oppose him and will invalidate his word (based on Tanchuma Korach 1, and Bamidbar Rabbah 18:2).

Korach felt cheated out of the position to which he believed he was entitled, but he masked his personal jealousy by espousing a democratic ideology. Moshe Rabbeinu (being Moshe Rabbeinu) saw right through Korach's ruse, and called him out on his true motives: 

"Is it not enough for you that the God of Israel has separated you from the assembly of Israel to draw you near to Himself, to perform the service of the Tabernacle of Hashem, and to stand before the assembly to minister to them? And He drew you near and all your brethren, the offspring of Levi, with you - yet you seek priesthood as well?" (Bamidbar 16:9-10).

We know how the story ends: Hashem makes it abundantly clear whom He has chosen, and the interlopers are punished harshly. Aharon's divine designation as the Kohen is further solidified by the miracle of the blossoming staff, which is memorialized in the Kodesh ha'Kodashim (Holy of Holies) for all time. The take-away lesson is loud and clear: Hashem is the One who assigns and regulates roles in Judaism, and those who challenge these divinely ordained assignments are opposing His will.

Later on in the parashah, several mitzvos are given which reinforce this message. One of these mitzvos is the mitzvas lo taaseh (Biblical prohibition) against a non-Kohen doing the avodah (service) in the Beis ha'Mikdash (Holy Temple). The Sefer ha'Chinuch (Mitzvah #394) explains the reason for this prohibition as follows:

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason that it is to the glory of the [Divine] King and the place that there should be a certain people there from the certain, known tribe, permanently appointed to minister, and an outsider should not enter among them for the service - in keeping with [the practice of] royalty on earth: they appoint known honorable men, that all the work of the palace should be done by them. For it is not fitting for a king that he should change the ministering servants before him every day, and that all should thus make use of the crown of ministry to the king. This is something quite clear. 

The parashah also teaches a separate mitzvas lo taaseh which prohibits the Leviim from doing the tasks of the Kohanim (i.e. the avodah), and against the Kohanim doing the tasks of the Leviim (i.e. guarding the Mikdash and providing the musical accompaniment for the avodah of the korbanos). This prohibition extends even to the division of labor within the Leviim: a designated Levi singer is not permitted to guard the Mikdash, nor is a Levi who guards the Mikdash permitted to sing. The Sefer ha'Chinuch (Mitzvah #389) provides a different kind of rationale for this prohibition:

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason that the service of these two groups is precious, consecrated service; therefore, this work must be strongly guarded from abdication, laziness, and forgetfulness. Now, there is no doubt that with any work imposed on two people or more, forgetfulness happens more frequently than with a task imposed on one alone. For in many cases, the two of them will rely on each other, and the work will be left undone between them. This is something which is obvious to every person. 

In other words, if people were allowed to do each other's tasks, this permission would lead to laxity, forgetfulness, and neglect - which, in turn, would result in diminishing the kavod (glory) of the Mikdash, and the King Whom we honor therein. 

According to the Sefer ha'Chinuch, there is a common denominator which underlies these two prohibitions: neither of them bar people from these roles because they are unqualified; both prohibitions stem from systemic considerations. In other words, the Torah doesn't regard a Kohen to be inherently superior or more capable of doing the avodah than a non-Kohen; rather, by limiting the avodah to one specific tribe, the kavod of the Mikdash and the Melech is preserved and enhanced. Likewise, Kohanim are certainly capable of doing the tasks of the Leviim (and vice versa), but the Torah wants to take measures against diffusion of responsibility which would result in neglect of the all-important duties of the Mikdash. 

The juxtaposition of Korach's rebellion and these mitzvos teaches a lesson which is relevant at all times, but is especially relevant for those of us who live in a democratic culture which continues to move towards universal egalitarianism. That lesson may be summed up as follows: when God assigns you a certain role in life, do not take it personally. Judaism's role assignments are determined by what is best for the system - not by what is best for you. 

Korach made this mistake. He was so caught up in his own delusions of entitlement that he denied Hashem's role in designating Aharon and his descendants as Kohanim, and accused Moshe of flagrant nepotism - a move which ultimately proved to be his own undoing. 

Bnei Yisrael - or at least, a portion of Bnei Yisrael - made this mistake insofar as they believed in Korach's rallying cry of "the entire assembly - all of them - are holy and Hashem is among them." This may be true, but it doesn't mean that Judaism is an equal-opportunity enterprise. 

Many Jews today make this mistake when they criticize Judaism for assigning different roles to men and women. They take these role-assignments personally because they assume that they stem from misogyny or other forms of prejudice. They are often so entrenched in these assumptions that they don't even bother to investigate the halachic and philosophical reasons for these restrictions. 

Now, this isn't to say that there aren't divinely ordained roles which are merit-based. For example, one must be a great talmid chachamim to serve as a dayan (judge) on a Sanhedrin, and no matter how much an am ha'aretz (ignoramus) wants that position, he is simply unqualified. 

Judaism is not egalitarian. There are hierarchies of roles and positions, and many of them are inflexible. Non-kohanim can't do avodah. Kohanim can't be musicians in the Mikdash. Kohanim with physical blemishes can't participate in the public avodah. Women and geirim are barred from certain positions of authority. No one but the descendants of David ha'Melech are permitted to be anointed as king. And the list goes on.

Although some may find this concept to be basic, it is often the most basic concepts which bear repetition. 

Parashas Shelach: Unity in Israel and in the Written Torah

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Artwork: Plains (THS), by Steven Belledin

Parashas Shelach: Unity in Israel and in the Written Torah

The Questions

If you ask some average parashah-conscious Jews: "What happens in Parashas Shelach?" they'll likely respond: "The Cheit ha'Meraglim (Sin of the Spies)." They might add: "It also tells the brief story about the mekoshesh eitzim (guy who desecrated Shabbos in public by gathering wood)" or "It concludes with the paragraph about tzitzis - the third paragraph of the Shema." But what they probably will NOT say is: "This week's parashah teaches us the laws of menachos (meal-offerings) and nesachim (wine libations), the mitzvah of challah, and the equality of the ger (convert) with the ezrach (native-born Jew)." 

That's right. Immediately after the account of the Cheit ha'Meraglim and before the mekoshesh eitzim and parashah of tzitzis, the Torah takes a seemingly random detour to the laws of menachos and nesachim (Bamidbar 15:1-13), followed by a brief discourse about the equality of the ger (ibid. 15:14-16), followed by the mitzvah of challah (ibid. 15:17-21). [1] 

Three questions arise from this non-sequitur:

1. Why does the Torah present these topics here? The halachos of menachos and nesachim really belong in Sefer Vayikra, with the other laws about the korbanos (sacrifices). The laws of challah seem to have nothing to do with the Meraglim. Why were these mitzvos discussed here, of all places?

2. What is being added by the Torah's discussion of the ger? The Torah has already equated the ger with the ezrach on numerous occasions earlier in the Chumash. Is this message being repeated here for emphasis, or is there a specific reason for its reiteration?

3. Why is the the treatment of this topic so repetitive? The pesukim devote a whopping twenty-three extra words to express this point:

When a ger sojourns with you or one who is among you throughout your generations and he shall prepare a fire-offering, a satisfying aroma to Hashem - as you do, so shall he do. For the congregation - the same decree shall be for you and for the ger who sojourns, an eternal decree for your generations; like you like the ger shall it be before Hashem. One Torah and one judgment shall be for you and for the ger who sojourns among you. (Bamidbar 15:14-16).

To paraphrase the Abravanel's statement of this question: "We get it, we GET it! The ger and the ezrach are equal. Why go on at such length - especially about something we already know?"  

The Answers

The Abravanel [2] answers all three questions - and in doing so, teaches us an important principle of Torah she'bi'Chsav methodology. He writes:

The meforshim (commentators) have already explained why this section was juxtaposed with the topic of the Meraglim. Moshe (peace be upon him) had promised the people of the Midbar (Wilderness) that their children would enter and inherit the land, but [the members of the generation of the Midbar] were afraid and said, "Who knows what will happen in 40 years? Maybe our children will also sin?" 

Therefore, Hashem (blessed is He) saw fit to comfort them and to speak to their hearts, commanding them in the mitzvos of the Land, so they would know that it is evident before Him that they will enter the land. It is for this reason that he [3] commanded them in the nesachim, since they weren't obligated in this in the Midbar, as it is stated in Sifrei (15:2). I think this is because they also didn't offer the Olas Tamid (continual burnt offering) in the Midbar, due to the dearth of animals, flour, oil, and wine ... Through this He promised them that they would, upon entering the land, have many animals - cattle and sheep - and wheat-flour, and oil with which to mix, and wine, and they wouldn't lack anything. 

Likewise, for the same reason, he commanded them afterwards in the mitzvah of challah, to promise them that Hashem would give them the land, despite the fact that their fathers didn't merit it because of their sin ... This is why he said, "When you will come into the Land of your dwelling places that I give you" (Bamidbar 15:2), because this was His promise to them that they would inherit it.

The Abravanel has answered our first question. The members of the Dor ha'Midbar (Generation of the Wilderness) were disheartened by the punishment for the Cheit ha'Meraglim. Although Hashem promised them that their children would inherit the Land, they here hesitant to believe this, since they feared that another national cheit on the scale of the Meraglim might delay them in the Midbar even longer - or worse, a cheit on the scale of the Eigel ha'Zahav (Golden Calf) or Korach's Rebellion might result in the entire nation being annihilated. 

To allay these fears, Hashem chose this as the time to command them in menachos, nesachim, and challah - mitzvos which were not observed in the Midbar, due to the scarcity of resources, but which would be observed in the Land of Israel. By commanding the Dor ha'Midbar in these mitzvos at this time, Hashem was reassuring them that their children would enter the Land on schedule, and enjoy its bounty. 

Next, Abravanel explains the inclusion of the passage about the ger. 

It was necessary to command them regarding the nesachim and menachos of gerim because it was explained in Emor that we don't accept any [korbanos] from goyim except for an olah (burnt-offering) ... However, when the goy offers an olah, he would not bring nesachim; only the ezrach (native-born Jew) would be obligated to bring them with his korbanos - not the goy. 

For this reason the pasuk needed to say, "Every ezrach shall do so with them etc. When a ger sojourns with you etc." In other words ... don't think that [a ger] is exempt from nesachim, as he was before he converted, when he was a goy, and that he would bring a korban without nesachim. This is not so. Rather, "as you do" with korbanos and nesachim "so shall he (i.e. the ger) do" - without any difference at all.

According to the Abravanel, the topic of the ger's equality is introduced to refute a hava amina (mistaken initial assumption) that one might have after learning the halachos of menachos and nesachim. After learning that goyim are exempt from nesachim, one might mistakenly assume that gerim are also exempt from nesachim, since gerim were once goyim. For this reason, the pasuk teaches us that the ger is subject to the same halacha as the ezrach, and is not equal to the goy. This answers our second question.

The Abravanel answers our third question by providing a reason for each of the Torah's seeming repetitions of the equivalence between the ger and the ezrach:

The Torah gave three reasons for why gerim and ezrachim are equally and uniformly obligated in all of the mitzvos: (1) on account of the congregation, because Israel is one nation in the Land; that being said, how could the ger be obligated in [a] different [set of] mitzvos? (2) on account of God, Who is One, Unique, and unchanging; likewise, those who believe in Him should be completely unified; (3) on account the Torah, which is one regimen and one law, and is [therefore] fitting that it should be equal for all those who believe in it. [4]

Regarding the first reason, on account of the congregation, the pasuk said: "the same decree should be for you and for the ger." Regarding the second reason, on account of Hashem, it said: "an eternal decree for your generations; like you like the ger it shall be before Hashem" - in other words, before Him there is no difference between you and the ger. Regarding the third reason, on account of the unity of the religion and the Torah, it said: "one Torah and one judgment it shall be for you and for the ger who sojourns among you."

The Abravanel's answer to our third question may be summed up as follows. After the Torah equates the ger and the ezrach in their obligation of nesachim, it goes on to provide three reasons why the laws are the same for the ger and the ezrach in all mitzvos. Each of these three reasons is reflected in the nuances of the Torah's repetition.

A Lesson in Torah she'bi'Chsav Methodology

We have now answered all three of our questions. But that's not the end of our journey. I mentioned earlier that there is an important methodological lesson we can glean from the Abravanel's answers. 

When my chavrusa and I began working on this area, we were looking for a singular insight which would answer all three questions. We assumed that if we managed to define the underlying theme of this entire section, a unified concept would present itself and resolve all difficulties. 

After learning the Abravanel, we realized that this isn't the case. According to the Abravanel, the placement of these three topics - nesachim, ger vs. ezrach, and challah - does not emerge from a single underlying cause; rather, the sequencing of these topics is associative - not conceptual. The associative sequence is as follows:

• A. The Torah records the events of the Cheit ha'Meraglim and its aftermath. 
• B. Because the members of the Dor ha'Midbar were so dejected, Hashem commanded them in mitzvos that are dependent on the Land of Israel: nesachim, menachos, and challah.
• C. One of the halachos we learn is that a goy is exempt from bringing nesachim.
• D. After learning this halacha, we might mistakenly assume that a ger is also exempt from nesachim, since the ger was once a goy. The Torah therefore teaches us that the ger is equal to the ezrach - in this mitzvah, and in all others.
• E. Once it became involved in the topic of the ger's equality, the Torah completes its treatment of this topic by stating the reasons why the ger is equal to the ezrach.

In other words, my chavrusa and I were looking for an underlying Theory "T" as a common denominator, which would explain A, B, C, D, and E - just as a scientific theory is a universal which explains a number of particulars. According to the Abravanel, there is no such theory in this case. Rather, A led to B, B led to C, C led to D, and D led to E.

This associative sequencing is reminiscent of the style of Talmud Bavli. Anyone who has learned Gemara is familiar with how the Gemara will start Topic A, get bogged down in a discussion about sub-Topic B, resolve the issue by moving to Topic C, and while it's there, throw in a midrash about Topic D, which leads to a chain of other midrashim by Rabbi E, and so on. 

My chavrusa and I learned two things from this: (1) Torah she'bi'Chsav might juxtapose topics for associative reasons, rather than conceptual ones; (2) this is yet another example of why we shouldn't harbor preconceived notions about what an answer is "supposed" to look like - lest we miss out on answers which do not conform to our predefined parameters. 

[1] The topic after that is korbanos for the unintentional worship of avodah zarah (idolatry), which is then followed by the mekoshesh eitzim. I didn't include this in my questions because the relationship between these two topics is clear, due to the strong relationship between Shabbos and avodah zarah. I wrote about this connection in Parashas Shelach: Shabbos, Avodah Zarah, and Skilah.

[2] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 15:13-16

[3] I'm fairly certain that this should be a lowercase "he," in reference to Moshe Rabbeinu, because a few sentences later the Abravanel says: "Likewise, for the same reason, he commanded them afterwards in the mtizvah of challah, to promise them that Hashem would give them the land" - and in that sentence it would be a stretch to read the "he" as referring to Hashem.

[4] Personally, I liked the Ralbag's statement of this explanation even better, despite the fact that he was answering a different question: "The Torah is a single, perfect regimen aimed at one objective; as such, it is impossible to add or subtract from it - and for this reason, it would be impossible [for someone] to accept only part of this regimen" (Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 15:15).