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Dear Yeshiva Family:
In this week's parshah, we encounter the story of Yehudah and Tamar. Tamar was awaiting yibbum, the levirate marriage performed when a husband dies childless, obligating a close relative to marry his widow to perpetuate his lineage. In the pre-Torah era, yibbum could also be performed by a father-in-law, not solely a brother-in-law, and therefore, the union between Tamar and Yehudah was not only permissible but a great mitzvah. Tamar became pregnant as a result of this union, though Yehudah was unaware that she was the woman he had been with. When he learned that his daughter-in-law, awaiting yibbum, was pregnant, Yehudah ruled that she should be burned, as was the prescribed punishment for a woman of kohanic descent who violated her marital bonds. Certainly, this story raises many questions and requires clarification, but these are not the focus of this article.
As Tamar was about to be executed, she sent Yehudah his signet ring, staff, and cord, with a message: "To the man to whom these belong, I am pregnant." Yehudah immediately recognized the items and realized what had transpired. Acknowledging the situation, Yehudah declared publicly that Tamar was righteous and had not sinned, taking full responsibility for what occurred. This confession, made by Yehudah as the head of the beis din, was undoubtedly humiliating but demonstrated remarkable integrity and humility. The Gemara (Sotah 10b) learns from Tamar's actions—her choice to reveal Yehudah's identity privately rather than publicly, even at the risk of her own life—that shaming another person publicly is a severe transgression. So severe, the Gemara teaches, that it is preferable to be cast into a burning fire than to embarrass someone in public.
Whether this principle is meant to be taken literally is debated among the Rishonim. Tosfos (Sotah 10b) asks why public embarrassment is not included among the three cardinal sins—murder, idolatry, and adultery—for which one must forfeit their life rather than transgress. They explain that this is because the prohibition against shaming is not explicitly stated in the Torah. Rabbeinu Yonah (Shaarei Teshuvah 3:139), however, suggests that shaming is considered a derivative of murder, as it inflicts spiritual and emotional harm akin to taking a life. Both Tosfos and Rabbeinu Yonah seem to conclude that the principle should indeed be understood literally and followed as halacha le'maaseh[1].
The Meiri, on the other hand, interprets the Gemara differently, suggesting that the directive is not meant to be taken literally. According to the Meiri, one may allow themselves to die rather than publicly embarrass another, but it is not an obligation[2]. Contemporary authorities, including Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach and Rav Ovadia Yosef, rule in accordance with Tosfos, maintaining that the severity of public embarrassment justifies the ultimate sacrifice in extreme cases[3].
The Gemara in Yoma (82b) establishes that murder is one of the three cardinal sins for which one must forfeit their life rather than transgress. This is derived from a logical argument: "Who is to say your blood is redder than your victim's?" The idea is that one cannot determine whose life is more precious to Hashem. Consequently, it is forbidden to kill another person, even to save one's own life—or even the lives of many others. Rashi explains that the verse "and you shall live by them" (Vayikra 18:5) teaches that preserving life generally takes precedence over observing the commandments. However, when it comes to murder, the act itself negates the principle of preserving life. If one is faced with the ultimatum, "Kill this person, or I will kill you," someone will die regardless. Since we cannot know which life is more precious to Hashem, committing murder cannot be justified, as it does not truly preserve life in this scenario.
This reasoning poses a challenge to understanding the concept of giving up one's life to avoid publicly embarrassing someone. As painful and severe as embarrassment can be, it does not result in actual death. How, then, can we equate the act of shaming someone to murder and demand that one allows himself to be killed to avoid shaming someone else? According to Tosfos's approach noted earlier, that we do not categorize public embarrassment as a derivative of murder, rather it seems to be a new and distinct principle—albeit one with the status of a cardinal sin, we would sidestep this question of how embarrassment can be classified under the rubric of murder.
Rabbeinu Yonah, however, does categorize public embarrassment as akin to murder. To resolve the difficulty, we must delve deeper into the Gemara's reasoning. The Gemara in Bava Metzia (58b) explicitly compares shaming someone to murder, noting that when a person is shamed, their blood visibly drains from their face. This physical reaction symbolizes the emotional and spiritual harm inflicted, underscoring why the Gemara equates it with murder.
To understand this further, we must consider the preciousness of life. Jewish law recognizes the value of even a single moment of life. If someone with only minutes to live is killed, the perpetrator is still considered a murderer, as those remaining moments of life are invaluable. Similarly, if a person is ordered to "pull the plug" on someone nearing the end of life, they must refuse—even at the cost of their own life—because we cannot measure whose life is more valuable in Hashem's eyes.
Applying this principle to public embarrassment, we can argue that while the harm caused by shaming may not result in physical death, it is akin to taking the victim's life, even if only temporarily. The Gemara's analogy reflects the idea that the shame experienced by the victim is a form of momentary "death." Though the victim may eventually recover, the perpetrator is still responsible for having inflicted profound harm. Just as one must forfeit their life to avoid taking even a few moments of someone else's life, one must also be willing to forgo their life to avoid committing the "momentary murder" of public embarrassment.
Although this Gemara contains many layers requiring contemplation, I would like to explore several points addressed by R' Shlomo Zalman Auerbach in Minchas Shlomo (1:7) and offer a novel insight on each.
Tamar's Silence and Yehuda's Role A key question arises: Why was Tamar prohibited from publicly declaring her innocence to Yehuda? If she was being sentenced to death unjustly, it would seem Yehuda himself could be considered a murderer.
The answer lies in understanding Yehuda's actions through the framework of halacha. Yehuda, acting in his capacity as the head of the Beis Din, believed Tamar was guilty and deserving of the death penalty based on the information available to him at the time. From his perspective, he was fulfilling his judicial responsibility, not acting as a rodef (pursuer intent on committing harm).
This principle aligns with a broader legal concept: when a Beis Din operates within its authority and later discovers that its ruling was incorrect (e.g., due to false witnesses), neither the judges nor the agents of the court are held liable for the consequences. They are considered to have acted appropriately based on the facts available at the time. Similarly, Yehuda's ruling, although ultimately mistaken, was issued in good faith, and Tamar's public defense would have undermined his rightful judicial authority.
To illustrate, imagine someone falsely accused of violating Shabbos and sentenced to death. As he is being taken to be executed, may he turn against the executioners to defend himself? He knows he does not deserve this and is being put to death wrongly! Based on this reasoning, it would be prohibited, as the executioners are carrying out a halachically mandated judgment. Even though the ruling is later revealed to be incorrect, their actions are justified within the parameters of Torah law at that moment.
Why Couldn't Tamar Publicly Exonerate Herself? Another question posed by R' Shlomo Zalman is: Why wasn't Tamar permitted to publicly declare Yehuda as the father of her child? Normally, one is allowed—even obligated—to bring charges against someone even in Beis Din for wrongdoing. For instance, if one witnesses a respected individual committing theft, they are required to report it, even though the process will inevitably cause embarrassment to the accused. Why, then, was Tamar not allowed to defend her life publicly, particularly when Yehuda himself was the judge?
R' Shlomo Zalman explicitly dismisses the argument that this case was unique because Yehuda was the judge. If someone is being accused of a crime but knows that it was really the judge himself who had committed the crime, they are certainly permitted to expose the wrongdoing, even if it results in significant embarrassment. So why was Tamar prohibited from announcing her innocence in this case?
A Novel Insight The distinction perhaps lies in the nature of Yehuda's actions. In a typical judicial or societal context, public embarrassment resulting from legal proceedings or rebuke is an unavoidable byproduct of maintaining justice. Society requires courts, laws, and accountability, and those who are found guilty will naturally face public shame. Similarly, if someone is caught in the act of committing a crime, it is permissible to rebuke them—sometimes even publicly—because doing so serves a higher purpose: preventing sin and upholding justice.
However, Yehuda's situation was fundamentally different. As it turned out, Yehuda had committed no crime. While his actions with Tamar may have appeared questionable, they were entirely lawful within the framework of pre-Torah halacha. Yehuda's union with Tamar was, in fact, a great mitzvah, as it fulfilled the practice of yibum (levirate marriage) in its ancient form. Publicly shaming Yehuda in this instance would not have served the purpose of rebuke or justice, as there was no sin to address.
Thus, Tamar's silence was not merely an act of extraordinary self-restraint; it was a recognition of the higher principle that public embarrassment is only permissible when necessary to uphold justice or prevent wrongdoing. In this case, exposing Yehuda would have caused unjustified humiliation without serving any constructive purpose. Tamar's restraint was, therefore, both a moral and halachic imperative.
Thank You, Hashem, for revealing such a profound chiddush (novel insight) where we have answered R' Shlomo Zalman's question. Even in a situation as dire as Tamar's, where her life was at stake, she understood the nuanced boundaries of justice and the weight of causing unnecessary embarrassment.
A Third Aspect: Can One Kill to Prevent Embarrassment? R' Shlomo Zalman raises an intriguing question: If embarrassing someone is akin to murder, what is the halachic ruling in a case where someone is actively pursuing another to embarrass them? In the case of a rodef (a pursuer attempting to kill), the Torah permits killing the rodef to save the victim's life. Should the same principle apply here, allowing us to kill someone to prevent the "mini-murder" of public humiliation?
According to Rabbeinu Yonah's explanation, one could argue that the two cases are comparable. Just as every moment of life is so precious that one may kill to prevent the murder of someone with only moments to live, so too, when witnessing an act of public humiliation—akin to murder for those moments—one might logically conclude that similar preventative measures are warranted.
However, as we have seen, not all authorities agree with this analogy. The Meiri, for instance, does not hold that one must give up their life to prevent the embarrassment of another. If one is not obligated to sacrifice their own life to avoid causing embarrassment, then it follows that one would not be permitted to take another's life to prevent such an act. Perhaps we can explain a source for the the Meiri's approach from a statement in the Gemara that one who embarrasses another loses their portion in the World to Come (BM 58b). This devastating spiritual consequence leaves the perpetrator's life effectively devoid of purpose, as their actions sever their connection to eternity. From that point on, any accomplishments or deeds they perform lack eternal significance, for they have forfeited their share in the World to Come.
This sheds new light on the Gemara's dramatic language: "It is better for a person to be cast into a burning fire than to embarrass someone publicly." The phrase "it is better" does not merely emphasize the gravity of the sin but reflects the profound loss for the perpetrator. By committing such an act, the person sacrifices everything they have worked for spiritually, rendering their life's efforts meaningless. In this sense, it would indeed be in their best interest to avoid committing the sin, even at the cost of their own life, rather than lose everything eternally.
If we are understanding the Meiri correctly, when it comes to the permissibility of killing another to prevent an act of embarrassment, the practical halachic conclusion is clear. Since according to many authorities there is no absolute obligation to give up one's life to prevent embarrassment—only a permission—it would not be allowed to kill someone actively pursuing such an act. The severity of embarrassing another is profound, but it does not rise to the level of physical murder in this regard, and therefore, the concept of a rodef does not apply.
Chillul Shabbos and the Dilemma of Saving from Embarrassment What about chillul Shabbos—the violation of Shabbos—in the context of saving someone from embarrassment? Could one desecrate Shabbos in order to prevent an act of public humiliation? Imagine a person accidentally turns on the lights on Shabbos; may they turn it off to prevent others from knowing that he violated the laws of Shabbos? There are many such scenarios where this issue might arise.
R' Shlomo Zalman does not entertain this possibility[4]. However, given that Rabbeinu Yonah teaches that embarrassing someone is akin to momentary death, one might assume that, following this reasoning, it should be permitted to violate Shabbos to prevent such an embarrassment.
Yet, there is reason to believe that even according to Rabbeinu Yonah, the answer would still be no. The Gemara (Yoma 85b) explains that the reason we violate Shabbos to save a life is that it is preferable to desecrate one Shabbos to ensure that the person can observe many more Shabbosos in the future. This reasoning, however, does not apply in the case of embarrassment. While embarrassing someone is likened to the shedding of blood, the individual remains alive and will still be able to observe Shabbos, even in their embarrassed state. Therefore, it would not be permitted to violate Shabbos to prevent the embarrassment.
However, let's explore an interesting conundrum: Imagine a situation where a person must either embarrass another or desecrate Shabbos. We have concluded that it is prohibited to violate Shabbos to prevent an embarrassment. Now, according to the principle that one must "jump into a fire" rather than embarrass another, it seems that the individual is obligated to sacrifice their life to avoid causing the embarrassment. Yet, to save this person from sacrificing their life, we are permitted to violate Shabbos, as the saving of a life overrides the laws of Shabbos. In this case, wouldn't it follow that the person, facing the dilemma of having to embarrass someone, could also violate Shabbos to save themselves from committing that act?
It seems that in this scenario, where someone is on the verge of death due to their efforts to avoid embarrassing another, it would certainly be permitted to save their life—even if doing so requires the violation of Shabbos. This is because the life being saved is a full and real life, and the halachic principle of pikuach nefesh (saving a life) would apply.
I hope these insights add depth and meaning to your Shabbos!
Wishing you and your family an amazing Shabbos!!
Rabbi Moshe Revah Rosh HaYeshiva, HTC - Beis HaMidrash LaTorah moshe.revah@htc.edu
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[1] See also the Rif and Rosh in Bava Metzia (4:22), who cite this Gemara, seemingly affirming that it is lehalacha. Refer also to Pri Chadash (Mayim Chayim on Yesodei HaTorah 5) who also understands this to be followed in practice. [2] The Brisker Rav explains that Tosfos avoided the view that one may be stringent (machmir) and allow themselves to be killed in such cases because it would contradict the principle of v'chai bahem—that the mitzvot are meant to preserve life, not endanger it. While Tosfos in Avodah Zarah (27b) does not seem to align with this view, the idea of adopting a stringent stance aligns with the Rambam's position in Yesodei HaTorah 5:4. Some disagree, arguing that the Meiri's reasoning is based on the classification of public embarrassment under the rubric of murder. Although it is not outright murder, one is not obligated to give up one's life for it, but it does not compete with v'chai bahem. See Zichron Shmuel for an in-depth analysis. [3] However, this remains a matter of dispute among the poskim, and reaching a definitive halachic conclusion is beyond the scope of this article. [4] R' Shlomo Zalman attempts to explain the difference by noting that when one embarrasses another, they do not actually cause the embarrassment in the same way one causes direct harm in other situations. The embarrassment is really brought on by the victim themselves and is not directly caused by the act itself but is rather a consequence of it. Therefore, it is prohibited to violate the Shabbos to prevent embarrassment. One can then question why then one must kill himself to prevent embarrassing another since it is no longer an act attributed to the perpetrator. R' Shlmo Zalman explains that indeed it is prohibited because we view it as if he is using the other person to save his life. He compares this to the scenario where someone needs a kidney transplant. One cannot force someone else to donate a kidney to save another's life. This position is somewhat difficult to reconcile with the explanations presented above, but addressing it fully is beyond the scope of this article. | 
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