The principle of “Ein kategor na’aseh sanegor” (“A prosecutor cannot become a defender”) means that items which contributed to Jews sinning cannot be used as part of the divine service to bring the Jews atonement. Thus, the Rosh Hashanah shofar is not made from the horn of a cow, because it brings to mind the sin of the Golden Calf. However, according to the Talmud, this principle is limited to articles that were used for the divine service in the Temple (such as a shofar, which was blown there daily). Thus, the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer) could be used to atone for the sin of the Golden Calf, since the ceremony involving it took place outside the Temple. If this is correct, why can’t a Kohen who committed murder recite the priestly blessing? Tosafot (Yevamot 7a) suggests that the reason he is excluded is “Ein kategor na’aseh sanegor.” But this blessing is recited outside the Temple, so he should be permitted to do so! It would seem that outside the Temple, what is permitted for the divine service is the use of an object (such as gold or a cow’s horn) even though it might bring to mind a certain sin. In contrast, the sinner himself (such as a Kohen who committed murder) may not perform the divine service, even outside the Temple. If this is correct, how do we explain the command to Aharon to take a calf during the eight days of the dedication of the Tabernacle (Vayikra 9:2)? Rashi answers that this was done to indicate that G-d had forgiven the Jewish people for the sin of the Golden Calf. But based on what we just said, a calf itself should not have been allowed! It would seem that when asking forgiveness for a specific sin, the chance of true repentance increases when the very item which was used to commit the sin is used for atonement. This is why the gold donated to make the Tabernacle was able to atone for the gold which people had enthusiastically donated to make the Golden Calf.

The Jewish leap year, which occurs seven times in a 19-year cycle, has 13 months instead of the regular year’s 12. The additional month is added after Adar and is known as Adar Sheni (the second Adar). The question arises: During a leap year, if someone simply refers to Adar without specifying the first or the second, what does he mean? The Tannaim (Mishnaic Sages) disagree. Rabbi Yehudah says that if someo ne simply refers to Adar, we assume he means the first Adar. Thus, if a legal document is written during a leap year, when it is written during the first Adar the month may be written simply as Adar; if it is written during the second Adar, it must be specified that the month is the second Adar. Rabbi Meir disagrees. He maintains that during a leap year, if someone refers simply to Adar, he can be assumed to be speaking of the second Adar (Nedarim 63a). While most of the halachic authorities accept the view of Rabbi Yehudah, the Rambam follows the view of Rabbi Meir. In any case, when writing a bill of divorce we always specify during which Adar the document was written, Adar Rishon or Adar Sheni. This disagreement has many ramifications. For example, if a person rents a house during a leap year, and the lease expires in Adar, does this mean the start of the first Adar or the start of the second Adar? The landlord would likely claim the lease ends with the start of the first Adar, while the renter would likely insist it ends with the start of the second. In such a case, some rabbis suggest that the renter pay half for the second month (in effect splitting the difference). Others state that the landlord has the upper hand, as he owns the property. Accordingly, the burden of proof is on the tenant (to prove that the lease was meant to extend through the end of the first Adar). This is because there is a principle that “Ha-motzi mei-chavero alav ha-re’aya.” This means that whoever wishes to extract something (here the right of tenancy) from its current owner must prove that he is entitled to it. The controversy also affects the commemoration of a yahrzeit (the day on which a relative died). For example, let us say someone passed away on the tenth of Adar. During a leap year, some recite the Mourner’s Kaddish on the tenth of both the first Adar and the second Adar. When it comes to the yahrzeit of Moshe Rabbeinu on the seventh of Adar, there are indications that it should be commemorated during the second Adar, close to Purim (which during a leap year is celebrated in the second Adar). On the Shabbat preceding the start of a new month in the Jewish calendar, a prayer is recited in shul, ushering in the new month by name. It is questionable which name we should use to usher in each Adar during a leap year. In short, the disagreement about this topic extends to many areas. Therefore, the prudent thing to do is to always clarify which Adar we mean, by specifying either Adar Rishon or Adar Sheni.

When people nowadays refer to the aron kodesh (the holy ark), they are generally speaking about the ark in the front of the shul, which houses the Torah scrolls. This ark is considered a tashmish kedusha, something that serves a holy object and thus is holy itself. Therefore, other items should not be stored in the ark. Additionally, even if an old ark is replaced by a newer one, the old one retains its holiness and should be treated accordingly. The question arises: May we use the ark to store Chumashim, Siddurim, Haftarah scrolls (written on parchment), or Torah scrolls that have become unusable? It would seem that since all of these are of less holiness than a Torah scroll, such storage should be forbidden, as it would detract from the holiness of the ark. However, a number of reasons have been adduced to permit this: 1. Since the Torah scroll is resting in the ark as well, the holiness of the ark is not diminished by these additional items. (If this explanation is correct, there is a problem when we remove all the Torah scrolls from the ark, as we do on Simchat Torah and (in some places) Hoshana Rabbah.) 2. The people who originally built the ark had in mind that it would be used for storing other holy objects besides Torah scrolls. 3. Since we customarily cover Torah scrolls with ornamental mantles, the ark is further removed from the scrolls’ holiness. It is now a tashmish de-tashmish, something that serves an item that itself serves a holy object. Therefore, placing other holy items in the ark does not detract from its holiness. Notwithstanding the above three reasons, there are still those who insist that Torah scrolls alone, and nothing else, may be stored in the aron kodesh.

“Anything we prohibit or practice today is only because of the commandments which G-d gave to Moshe Rabbeinu... We do not undergo circumcision just because Avraham Avinu circumcised himself and the members of his household, but rather because G-d commanded us through Moshe to circumcise our sons just as Avraham circumcised his sons (Rambam, Peirush Ha-Mishnayot, Chullin). The Torah was given at Sinai, and Jewish law was established then. Whatever our forefathers did, they did of their own volition and not because they were given a Torah mitzva. As a result, even though G-d said to Avraham, “Your name shall be Avraham” (Bereishit 17:5) and our Sages derive from this that anyone who calls Avraham by his former name Avram is transgressing a positive commandment, such a mitzva is not included in the list of the 248 positive commandments. This is because Avraham’s story took place before the Torah was given at Sinai. This principle, however, presents us with numerous difficulties. How is it that our Sages derive that one must be quick to perform a mitzva from the episode of Avraham arising early in the morning to fulfill the directive of G-d to sacrifice his son Yitzchak? How did our Sages learn from Lavan that we do not mingle semachot? (See the first essay in Parshat Vayetze.) How could our Sages derive the requirement of using a knife to slaughter an animal from the story of the sacrifice of Yitzchak, where the Torah says, “And he took the knife to sacrifice his son” (Bereishit 22:10)? There are many more examples. A number of solutions have been proposed: 1. We do not actually derive mitzvot from stories about our forefathers. We do, however, derive details of how to fulfill them. 2. The only types of laws we derive from pre-Sinaitic times are those that are logical and have clear reasons behind them. We do not derive laws which are simply divine decrees (gezeirat ha-katuv) from this material. 3. If we have no other way to derive a law, and it does not appear among the laws given at or after Sinai, we may derive the law from material that appears before the giving of the Torah. 4. We derive the law from pre-Sinaitic sources only in cases where we can explain why this specific mitzva went into effect even before the giving of the Torah. 5. We can use pre-Sinaitic material to clarify words and other details of laws given at Sinai.

Numerous laws are derived from the verse: "On the sixth day they shall prepare what they bring in..." (Shemot 16:5). First, we derive from it that one should prepare properly on Friday for Shabbat, so that everything will be ready by the time Shabbat starts. Second, we derive the rule of muktzah: if an item was not prepared or set aside for Shabbat use in advance, it may not be used or moved on Shabbat. Third, our Sages derive from the verse that one may prepare on a weekday for Shabbat, but may not prepare on Shabbat for a weekday. For this reason, many people do not wash dishes or pots following Shabbat lunch, because they know they will not need to use them again until after Shabbat. Some people do not fold their tallit after shul, as they consider it preparing for a weekday since they will not be wearing a tallit again until Sunday. Based on the requirement to prepare during the week for Shabbat, our Sages derive that if Yom Tov is on Friday, it is prohibited to prepare on Yom Tov for Shabbat. The only way this preparation becomes permitted is if a person sets aside food for an eruv tavshilin before Yom Tov. By doing so, he is beginning preparations for Shabbat on the day preceding Yom Tov. Up to this point, we have addressed preparation undertaken by people. However, why do we need the verse cited above to tell us about such preparation? We have another verse which makes the same point: “Tomorrow is a day of rest . . . so bake what you want to bake now” (Shemot 16:23). Therefore, the Gemara posits that our verse is speaking about something that was “prepared by heaven,” such as an egg that was laid on Shabbat. (This is one of the main subjects of the beginning of Tractate Beitzah). Such an egg may not be used on Shabbat or the Yom Tov that follows it on Sunday. Similarly, if Yom Tov is on Friday, an egg laid on Yom Tov may not be used for Yom Tov or the Shabbat following it. Since these eggs did not exist before Shabbat or Yom Tov, they could not have been prepared or set aside beforehand.

What are the parameters of the obligation to wear tefillin? Must they be worn all day? What if someone forgot to don his tefillin? Based on the Talmud, it would seem that in Talmudic times, men wore their tefillin all day even if they worked at menial jobs. Some say that doing so fulfills a biblical mandate: “And this shall serve you as a sign on your hand and as a reminder on your forehead” (Shemot 13:9). Others say that the biblical requirement is fulfilled by wearing tefillin for even a moment. It is only a rabbinic obligation, or perhaps not an obligation but an ideal fulfillment of the mitzva, to wear them for a more extended period (either the entire day, or at least during the recitation of Shema and the Amidah). Nevertheless, our Sages speak harshly about men who do not don tefillin at all, declaring them to be “sinners of Israel with their bodies” (posh’ei Yisrael be-gufan). It is unclear who exactly is included in this category. The Rambam maintains that this is limited to a person who never in his life put on tefillin. Someone who put them on even once is not included. In contrast, the Rosh applies the Sages’ harsh language to someone who wears his tefillin sporadically. The Pri Megadim sees the condemnation as even more sweeping, applying it to someone who misses even a single day. In deciding who is categorized as this type of sinner for not wearing tefillin, some commentaries focus on what informs the person’s neglect. Rabbeinu Tam states that a person is categorized thus only if he neglects this mitzva because he is contemptuous of it, or cannot be bothered to take the time and effort to do it. However, if someone refrains from putting on tefillin because he is afraid that he will not be able to maintain the requisite level of holiness and purity while doing so, he is not included. The Yere’im disagrees, saying that someone who does not wear his tefillin because he is lazy is included. Finally, the Tur (according to the Beit Yosef) states that any man who does not put on tefillin for any reason is included. Why do our Sages describe men who do not don tefillin specifically as “sinners of Israel with their bodies” (posh’ei Yisrael be-gufan)? Perhaps it is because the mitzva of tefillin involves placing the tefillin directly on the body, with nothing separating them from the skin. Thus, the tefillin feel like a part of the person. If someone does not don them, it is as if he is missing a body part.

Pharaoh works closely with his astrologers and magicians in Parshat Va’era. What is the Jewish view of these practitioners? The Rambam feels strongly that astrology and magic are nonsense and lies, with no power whatsoever. In contrast, Ramban and other Rishonim maintain that astrology is a tool through which G-d rules the world. He Himself, of course, is not subordinate to it. He is free to do whatever He wants, and change anything that might be predetermined by the stars. Given this debate, is it permissible according to Jewish law, for us to seek the advice of an astrologer, or to allow the daily horoscope to guide our decisions? The Ramban asserts that following one’s horoscope is permitted and does not fall into the category of the Torah prohibitions of magic and divination. If a person’s horoscope predicts that something bad will happen to him, he should respond by praying to G-d for mercy and performing many mitzvot. This is because a person’s actions can change what is predicted by the stars. Nevertheless, if a person’s horoscope predicts that a certain day would not be a good time for him to undertake a certain activity, he should avoid doing it, as it is not appropriate for him to defy his horoscope and rely on a miracle. In contrast, Rambam maintains that someone who plans his activities based on astrology is not only transgressing, but is even subject to lashes. The Meiri is one of the rationalists among the Rishonim, but he takes a more moderate position than the Rambam. What is forbidden is to relate to the stars as having power independent of G-d. But they do have an effect, the same way that the sun does when it produces light and heat. Accordingly, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with taking a horoscope into account when planning one’s day. The Meiri sees it as the equivalent of a person who wants bright light for an activity, so he plans it for the middle of the day, when the sun is at its maximum strength.

"If a person suspects the innocent, he will sustain bodily harm” (Ha-choshed bi-kesheirim, lokeh be-gufo). This principle is illustrated in Parshat Shemot. Moshe lost faith in the Jewish people and said, “They will not believe me.” Soon afterwards, his hand was covered with leprosy. This would seem to be an object lesson teaching us to avoid thinking the worst of others. The flip side is to avoid leading others to think badly of us. Yet there are two stories told about Rabbi Yehoshua which seem to show that he did not care if people incorrectly thought the worst of him, nor if he incorrectly thought the worst of others. One story is found in Derech Eretz Rabbah 5:3. Rabbi Yehoshua welcomed a guest to his home and gave him a place to sleep in his loft. Before going to sleep, Rabbi Yehoshua removed the ladder used to gain access to the loft. In the middle of the night, his guest gathered up many of Rabbi Yehoshua possessions, and attempted to sneak out of the house with them. Not realizing the ladder had been removed, he fell and was badly injured. In the morning, Rabbi Yehoshua found the man lying at the bottom of the loft. Rabbi Yehoshua concluded, “One should look at all people as prospective thieves.” Just a minute. What became of the principle of “Ha-choshed bi-kesheirim”? There are two solutions offered for this seeming contradiction. Some say that this principle applies only to someone whom one knows. This was the case of Moshe in relation to the Jewish people, whom he was punished for suspecting. It was also the case of the elders of the Sanhedrin in relation to the Kohen Gadol. (See Mishnah Yoma 1:5.) However, it is sensible to suspect strangers. Alternatively, it is possible that one should not be suspicious of anyone unless they have already behaved in such a way so as to arouse suspicion. Apparently, Rabbi Yehoshua had seen his guest behave suspiciously earlier in the evening. A second story is found in Shabbat 127b. Once Rabbi Yehoshua had to speak to a Roman noblewoman. He was escorted to her home by some of his students. Before entering the private meeting room where he would be alone with her, he removed his tefillin. After the meeting, he immersed himself in a mikvah. Later, he asked his students what they suspected him of. They replied that they did not suspect him of anything. Rather, they judged him favorably and were able to find innocent explanations for his behavior. Nevertheless, we are left with the question – how could Rabbi Yehoshua place himself in a compromising position which might have led his students to judge him unfavorably? Perhaps we can answer that Rabbi Yehoshua knew his students well, and knew the kind of education that they had received from him. He was, therefore, confident that they would not judge him unfavorably.

"And he was placed in a coffin in Egypt” (Bereishit 50:26). In earlier times, people were buried in coffins of wood, stone, metal, or clay. However, in order to fulfill the verse that says “to dust you shall return” (Bereishit 3:19), they would modify the coffin to create a direct connection to the earth. Either the bottom of the coffin was removed, or, minimally, holes were bored in the bottom or side. These holes served an additional purpose. They prevented defilement (tumah) from ascending heavenward. For the law is that if there is a space of a tefach (8-10 centimeters) between the body and the top of the coffin, and there is a hole in the side of the coffin, the coffin is not considered fully sealed, and thus the defilement cannot spread. In Israel today, the dead are buried in the earth without a coffin. This is a more ideal fulfillment of the verse “to dust you shall return.” Indeed, many sages in the past objected strenuously when important people were buried in coffins. Nevertheless, in the Diaspora, people are generally buried in coffins. It is also the practice to bury fallen soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces in coffins, for obvious reasons. It is forbidden to derive any benefit from coffins and burial garments (tachrichin). Therefore, one who finds boards in a cemetery must not move them, as we are concerned that they might be from the coffin of a body that was exhumed.

During the famine in Egypt (Bereishit chapter 47), Yosef made sure that the price of grain would not become exorbitant. According to Jewish law, the courts have an obligation to supervise merchants and make sure they do not wildly overcharge. The primary concern is when we are dealing with staples such as wine, oil, and flour. In general, profit may not exceed one-sixth (approximately 17%), after the costs for labor and expenses are deducted. Of course, the courts must set price caps for all the merchants equally, without discriminating among them. What sanctions can be used by the courts against a merchant guilty of price gouging? According to the Rambam, such a merchant is flogged, while according to the Shulchan Aruch he is fined. There is an additional weapon available to the people – a consumer boycott. Indeed, we find an example of this in Responsa Tzemach Tzedek HaYashan. In a certain town, the fish merchants all raised their prices excessively. In reaction, the Tzemach Tzedek instructed the people not to buy fish. The boycott continued for a number of weeks, until the merchants lowered the prices. This was even though the boycott infringed on the mitzva of enjoying and honoring Shabbat. The Tzemach Tzedek pointed to a precedent for his ruling. The mishnah in Keritut records that when the prices of a particular bird offering became prohibitive, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel allowed a woman to offer one bird to cover a number of obligations. However, the Chatam Sofer rejected this proof for the boycott. He argued that in the case of the woman who was permitted to offer one bird, she had the possibility of offering the additional sacrifices at a later time. In contrast, one who did not eat fish on Shabbat could not make it up. Additionally, a poor person who cannot afford fish is not required to eat it on Shabbat, while a poor person is not completely exempt from sacrifices. Thus we see that the two cases are different.

Outside of Israel, Shavuot is a two-day Yom Tov, and both Pesach and Sukkot begin and end with two days of Yom Tov as well. In ancient times, the new month was proclaimed by the Beit Din in Jerusalem. Messages were then sent to the surrounding and outlying communities, telling them when the new month began. Because the more distant communities did not receive the message before the start of the holidays, those living outside Israel observed two days of Yom Tov due to the uncertainty of the correct date. Although today there is a set calendar, we still maintain this tradition of observing two days in the Diaspora. Nevertheless, when it comes to Chanukah, everybody celebrates it for eight days, including those in the Diaspora. Some explain that we only add a day to biblical holidays but not to rabbinic ones (such as Chanukah). Others feel that the number eight has special significance vis-a-vis Chanukah. This is either because one of the evil decrees of the Greeks against the Jews banned circumcision, which takes place on the eighth day, or because Chanukah was designed to parallel Sukkot (which at the time of Chanukah’s origin was eight days long even in the Diaspora). We would like to suggest an additional approach. The Beit Yosef poses a famous question: Why do we celebrate Chanukah for eight days? Since the Jews found enough oil to last for one day, the miracle lasted for only seven days. One of the answers proposed is that had they celebrated seven days, then on the fourth day it would have been impossible to tell who was following Beit Hillel and who was following Beit Shammai. Beit Shammai says that on the first night we light eight candles, and on each succeeding night we decrease the number by one. On the final day of the holiday, only one candle is lit. In contrast, Beit Hillel maintains that on the first night we light one candle, and on each succeeding night we increase the number by one. Thus on the eighth day, eight candles are lit. (This is the current custom.) It follows, then, that if we celebrated only seven days of Chanukah, on the fourth day there would be no discernible difference between those following Beit Hillel and those following Beit Shammai (as both would light four candles). To avoid this problem, Chanukah is eight days and not seven. Similarly, if we were to add a day (as we do on other holidays) and celebrate nine days of Chanukah in the Diaspora, this problem would arise on the fifth night. For this reason we do not add a day in the Diaspora, but rather celebrate Chanukah for eight days everywhere.

Our Sages derive from Parshat Vayeshev the principle of “It is better for someone to be thrown into a fiery furnace than to embarrass another person in public.” For we see that Tamar refused to announce that Yehudah was the one who got her pregnant, for fear of embarrassing him, even though as a result of her silence she was taking the risk of being put to death. Others disagree, explaining that the three cardinal sins are limited to those mentioned explicitly in the Torah. The prohibition to embarrass someone is not explicit. Furthermore, the Meiri explains that the principle of “It is better for someone to be thrown into a fiery furnace than to embarrass another person in public” is not meant to be taken literally. It is stated dramatically to ensure that people will take it seriously, making efforts to be sensitive to the feelings of others. May people embarrass themselves? If we take literally the comparison between embarrassing and murdering, then just as people may not harm themselves intentionally, so too they should be forbidden to embarrass themselves intentionally. This would mean that a person would not be allowed to wear torn clothes that expose a deformed part of his body, even if he is doing so in order to make money. However, the Meiri allows a person to embarrass himself, consistent with his understanding the comparison as ethical and not literal. In order to avoid embarrassing people, our Sages ordained that all first fruits (bikurim) that are brought to Jerusalem should be in baskets of reeds. This was to prevent the rich from using gold and silver baskets, which would make the poor feel embarrassed of their more humble baskets. There is also a custom in many congregations that a designated Torah reader (ba’al korei) does all the reading from the Torah. This ensures that someone who is unable to read from the Torah will not be embarrassed by being expected to do so. However, there are other congregations that do not share this concern. On the contrary, they believe that the fear of embarrassment will motivate all the men in the congregation to learn to read the Torah for themselves.