|
Dear Yeshiva Family:
In this week's parshah we encounter an incredible mix of halachos, and right at the start I already feel the pull to return to the "old ways" of learning! With connections to much of Maseches Gittin, Bava Metzia, Yevamos, Nedarim, Kesuvos, and even parts of Sanhedrin, this is one of the richest and most remarkable parshiyos in the Torah "sugya-wise".
For now, though, I'll settle on a single he'ara — a small thought that can serve as food for daily living. The parshah teaches us the mitzvah of building a fence around a flat roof or any elevated area from which a person could fall. The Sefer HaChinuch (mitzvah 546) explains that the Torah is instilling in us a general principle: a person must always take steps to protect himself. Hashem created the world with rules of nature, and aside from a select few tzaddikim on the level of Daniel, Chananya, Mishael, and Azaryah — individuals whose kedushah was so great that they could transcend those rules — the rest of us must live within them. Our responsibility is to recognize, respect, and work with the system Hashem set in place.
In the words of the Chinuch "Hashem created His world and built it upon the foundations of the pillars of nature, and He decreed that fire should burn and water should extinguish flame, and likewise nature dictates that if a large stone falls on a man's head it will crush his brain, or if a man falls from the top of a tall roof to the ground he will die. And Hashem granted human bodies, and He breathed into them a soul of life with intelligence to protect the body from harm, and He placed both — the soul and the body — within the cycle of the natural elements, and these elements govern them and act upon them. Since Hashem has subjected man's body to nature, He commanded man to guard himself from accidents, for the forces of nature that are entrusted with this power will act upon him if he does not protect himself from them.
Etc. Along these lines, you will see most matters of Scripture everywhere: even when Israel went to wage a milchemes mitzvah (a commanded war) by the word of Hashem, they would go out armed and arrange their battle as though they relied fully on natural means. And so it is fitting to act, for the reason we mentioned, and whoever does not deny the truth out of stubbornness will admit this.
Etc. And many things our Sages of blessed memory forbade in order to guard against injury and harmful accidents, for it is not proper for a person with understanding to endanger himself. Therefore, he must pay attention to all matters that could potentially cause him harm. Whoever transgresses these is subject to rabbinic lashes (makkas mardus). Among them: they said that a person should not place his mouth on a pipe and drink, nor should he drink directly from rivers and ponds, lest he swallow a leech. They forbade uncovered water because of the concern that a venomous creature may have drunk from it, and the measure of exposure is long enough for the creature to emerge from the vessel and drink. They explained further that there are beverages that fall under the concern of uncovered water and some that do not.For this same concern, they forbade punctured figs, grapes, pomegranates, gourds, squashes, and cucumbers, even if they are large, and in general any fruit that has moisture and is found with a bite mark — they said it is forbidden. Likewise, they forbade putting coins into one's mouth, lest they carry dried saliva from one afflicted with boils or leprosy, or sweat, since all human sweat is poisonous, except for that of the face."[1]
A natural question arises: why are some of these obligations classified as de'oraisa (Torah law) while others are only derabanan (rabbinic)? One possible approach is that the Rabbanan were the ones to define which situations are considered dangerous, but once defined, the issur would carry the weight of a de'oraisa. However, this does not seem to be the case from the Shulchan Aruch (Choshen Mishpat 427), which explicitly rules that certain cases are assur only miderabanan.
The difference may be as follows: when there is an open and ongoing potential for danger — for example, leaving a hazard in place where someone could absentmindedly stumble upon it — the Torah itself requires that the danger be removed. That is the mitzvah of maakeh and similar cases. By contrast, when a person engages in an activity that carries some level of risk, such as drinking directly from a pond, there is no concern that someone will inadvertently fall into danger. Rather, the individual is knowingly taking a chance. In such situations, the Torah does not forbid it on a de'oraisa level; it is the Rabbanan who stepped in and prohibited these behaviors to protect us from unnecessary risk.
There is much to discuss and clarify here, but to keep things brief, let me pose a question: what is the Torah's ruling on seatbelts? To be clear, I am not suggesting that one should ignore the law of the land; I am only asking from a halachic perspective whether seatbelts are truly obligatory. On the one hand, one could argue yes — there is a mitzvah to protect oneself. But if so, why stop at seatbelts? Why not require helmets in the car, or even a full five-point harness system? Undoubtedly, if people wore such equipment, lives would be saved in accidents. So why don't we mandate every possible safety precaution under halacha?
One might respond that a five-point harness is impractical and difficult to install, but helmets are certainly available and easy to wear. The reality, however, is that society does not require helmets in cars — because it would be unreasonable, overly burdensome, and not socially acceptable. Instead, a middle ground was chosen: seatbelts, which are simple, reasonable, and effective. But if halacha truly required absolute self-protection at all costs, practicality and social norms should not matter; we should be obligated to adopt every possible measure regardless of inconvenience.
The answer must therefore be that halacha does not demand that we pursue safety to its absolute extreme. Why not? Because statistically, the vast majority of people will not be involved in a serious accident, and halacha does not obligate us to guard against every remote risk. If so, one could argue, halacha should likewise not require seatbelts — unless we understand the obligation differently.
This is not merely an academic discussion — there are many practical ramifications. For example: if halacha truly requires wearing a seatbelt, what would happen if the seatbelt in a car were broken? Would it then be prohibited to ride in that car at all? If the obligation is absolute, then yes, it should be assur. But if wearing a seatbelt is simply a good and wise practice, then even without one it would still be permitted, albeit perhaps with some nervousness.
Another question: if wearing a seatbelt is a mitzvah, then every time you buckle up you should have the mitzvah in mind. Could someone else fasten the seatbelt for you — would that count as shlichus in fulfilling your mitzvah?
And what about going beyond the norm — if a person were to wear a helmet while driving, would that too be considered a mitzvah? Or is there a point where extra precautions are unnecessary? Furthermore, is the obligation objective — the same for everyone — or subjective, depending on a person's level of fear and risk tolerance? Could wearing a seatbelt be considered a mitzvah for one person, while another — who feels no concern — would not be viewed as violating anything by not wearing it? These are just some of the foundational questions that open the door to deeper reflection on this topic.
Have an amazing Shabbos Kodesh!
Rabbi Moshe Revah Rosh HaYeshiva mrevah2@touro.edu
_________________________
[1] There are many facets of this concept to consider. It seems that the Sefer HaChinuch does not derive this principle from the verse "Venishmartem me'od lenafshoseichem — be very careful with your lives." While many understand that the mitzvah to guard one's health comes from this pasuk, the simple reading of the pesukim suggests that it may in fact be referring to safeguarding one's spiritual life. The Gemara in Berachos relates that R' Yosi was once davening when an officer approached him, and R' Yosi ignored him. Angered, the officer challenged him, "What happened to the command of Venishmartem me'od?" — which seems to imply that this verse is indeed a source for protecting one's physical life. The Minchas Chinuch, however, explains that there is no clear proof from this story, for that was merely the officer's interpretation of the pasuk; who says it is correct? Nevertheless, the Shulchan Aruch (Choshen Mishpat 427:5–10) does codify this principle. Either way, there is a clear source obligating a person to take proper precautions to protect himself. |
No comments:
Post a Comment