The Conceptual Approach To Jewish Learning: Edited by Yosef Blau Robert S. Hirt, Series Editor

The Conceptual
Approach to Jewish
Learning
edited by
Yosef Blau
Robert S. Hirt, Series Editor
THE MICHAEL SCHARF PUBLICATION TRUST

of the YESHIVA UNIVERSITY PRESS
NEW YORK
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1
The Conceptual Approach
to Torah Learning: The
Method and Its Prospects
Aharon Lichtenstein
To the average ben yeshivah, the very thought of a methodology of

learning is, at best, a two-edged sword. On the one hand, he finds it
alluring. On the objective plane, it holds out the promise of greater
rationality and order, not to mention approximation to truth – values
much sought and appreciated; and subjectively, it elicits the hope of
a more efficient and effective direction of his most cherished activity.
And yet he senses a discordant note. Its unfamiliarity is threaten-
ing, its pursuit potentially unsettling, and its occasionally technical
formulations jarring. Moreover, the perception that a systematic
impulse characterizes the academic community, which the budding
talmid hakham possibly suspects, only intensifies the discomfiture.
There are, however, deeper and more genuine roots for the
ambivalence. These relate, primarily, to anxiety over the loss of pas-
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2 Aharon Lichtenstein
sion and the jading of awe. Concern that efficiency will be attained
at the expense of reverence touches a raw nerve. A beit midrash is
not a shoe factory, and its occupants are not indentured to the bot-
tom line. It is the epicenter of their existential orbit, and their study
there is animated by a simple petition: ‫גל עיני ואביטה נפלאות מתורתך‬,
“Open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of
Thy law” (Tehillim 119:18).
In this respect, the ambivalence is analogous to the Romantics’
reservations (one recalls Watts-Dunston’s designation of the move-
ment as “the renascence of wonder”) about speculative thought. “Do
not all charms fly,” asked Keats,
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?

There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine
Unweave a rainbow
(Lamia, ii, 229–237)
It is exacerbated, however, by two disparate and yet complementary

factors. First, one senses that at stake is not just mystery but sacred
mystery, its apprehension to be accompanied, consequently, with
tremor no less than with wonder. This, on the view of R. Matya b.
Harash, was the thrust of the summons to Moshe Rabbenu at Sinai,
‫לא בא הכתוב אלא לאיים עליו כדי שתהא תורה ניתנת באימה ברתת ובזיע שנאמר‬
‫עבדו את ה׳ ביראה וגילו ברעדה‬,1 “The purpose of the Scripture here was
to inspire him with fear, so that the Torah be given with fear, with
trembling, and with sweat, as it is said: ‘Serve the Lord with fear and
rejoice with trembling’ ” (Tehillim 2:11) and its echoes have reverber-
ated for posterity. Second is the visceral quality that Hazal ascribed
to talmud Torah. In characterizing it, they resorted to metaphors
relating to the most elemental of physical and psychic experiences:

The Conceptual Approach to Torah Learning 3
‫ למה נמשלו‬,‫א״ר שמואל בר נחמני מאי דכתיב אילת אהבים ויעלת חן וגו‬
‫דברי תורה לאילת לומר לך מה אילת רחמה צר וחביבה על בועלה כל‬
‫ אף דברי תורה חביבין על לומדיהן כל שעה‬,‫שעה ושעה כשעה ראשונה‬
‫ ויעלת חן שמעלה חן על לומדיה דדיה ירייך בכל‬.‫ושעה כשעה ראשונה‬
‫עת למה נמשלו דברי תורה כדד? כל זמן שהתינוק ממשמש בו מוצא בו‬
‫חלב אף דברי תורה כל זמן שאדם הוגה בהן מוצא שהתינוק ממשמש‬
‫בו מוצא בו חלב אף דברי תורה כל זמן שאדם הוגה בהן מוצא בהן‬
.‫טעם‬
R. Shmuel bar Nahmani said: What [is the meaning] of the
[biblical verse]: “Loving hind and graceful roe,” etc. [Mishlei
5:19]? Why were the words of Torah compared to a hind? To
tell you that as the hind has a narrow womb and is loved by
its mate at all times as at the first hour of their meeting, so
it is with the words of the Torah. They are loved by those
who study them at all times as at the hour when they first
make their acquaintance. “And a graceful roe?” Because the
Torah bestows grace on those who study it. “Her breasts will
satisfy you at all times” [Mishlei 5:19]. Why were the words
of the Torah compared to a breast? As with a breast, however
often the child nurses, it finds milk in it, so it is with words
of Torah. As often as a man studies them, so often does he
find relish in them.2
Would one expect an infant to suck by the book? A bridegroom

to make love per his manual’s instruction?
These reservations are neither idiosyncratic nor novel. Indeed,
on one view, they were expressed by one of the early Amora’im:
‫אמר עולא מחשבה מועלת אפילו לדבר תורה שנאמר מפר מחשבות‬
.‫ערומים ולא תעשינה ידיהם תושיה‬
Thought affects even words of Torah, as it is said, “He abol-
ishes the thought of the skilled [i.e., scholars], lest their hands
perform nothing substantial.”3
Rashi explains, as a possible interpretation:

‫ל״א מחשבה שאדם מחשב כך וכך תעלה בידי מועלת להשבית הדבר שאין‬
‫מחשבתו מתקיימת אפילו לדבר תורה כגון האומר עד יום פלוני אסיים‬
.‫כך וכך מסכתות בגירסא‬
Another interpretation: [The] thought that a man calculates,
that such-and-such will I succeed in, is effective in negating
the matter that his thought is ineffectual – even for matters
of Torah, as when one says: “I will complete such-and-such
[number] of tractates in reciting by this date.”
Nevertheless, the benefits of a modicum of planning are so self-

evident that hardly a maggid shi’ur opens a zeman without at least
the equivalent of a tentative syllabus. And concern over mahshavah
mo’elet is presumably allayed by Rabbah’s qualification:
‫אמר רבה אם עוסקין לשמה אינה מועלת שנאמר רבות מחשבות בלב איש‬
.(‫ועצת ה׳ היא תקום עצה שיש בה דבר ה׳ היא תקום לעולם )שם‬
Rabbah said: “[But] if they study [Torah] for its own sake,
[such study] is not adversely affected, as it is said, “There are
many thoughts in a man’s heart, but the counsel of the Lord,
that shall stand.”
Spirit and motivation are the key. Where these are truly reli-
gious, the claims of productivity and spontaneity can be reconciled;
and the votary of Torah can enter its forests both in order to traverse
them and because the woods are “lovely, dark, and deep.”
Analogously, while the specter that analysis of methodology
will have a deadening effect upon vibrant learning cannot be pre-
cluded, it is not inevitable. Properly animated, a measure of goal-
orientation conjoined with reflexive awareness – grounded not in
the self-conscious proclivities of an “age of analysis” but in the joyful
quest for mastery of Torah – can genuinely enhance one’s apprecia-
tion of devar Hashem and the process of studying it. Knowledge of
technique can improve performance in swimming without diluting,
indeed, possibly stimulating, its joy; and so may it be with respect
to yam ha-talmud. It is with this hope and in this spirit that the fol-
lowing remarks are presented.

Upon embarking on a discussion of the methodology of talmud

Torah she-be’al-peh, we need to distinguish between two sets of is-
sues, each of considerable practical significance, but nevertheless
quite different in character and substance. We confront, on the one
hand, questions of method, narrowly defined: how should topics be
approached, texts read, terms defined, concepts analyzed? On the
other hand, we are charged to deal with questions largely subsumed
under educational, or possibly even pedagogic, strategy. These often
relate to the “what” of learning no less than to the “how,” with cur-
riculum the core: the emphasis upon range and depth, respectively;
to which massekhtot, or segments thereof, ought priority be assigned;
is general beki’ut best attained by learning Shas cum Rashi, its digest
in the Rif, or its systematic codex in the Rambam? Obviously, in
many respects, how and what overlap. Determination of the extent
to which the learning of Bavli and Yerushalmi should be interwoven
involves a substantive, and not merely tactical, decision. Neverthe-
less, the areas can be distinguished. The choice of learning Bava
Kamma, Berakhot, or Menahot is ordinarily determined by factors
little related to how any of these is to be studied. Our focus here shall
be upon the mode of learning as such, specifically with reference
to the conceptual approach, while the educational aspects will only
be dealt with marginally.
Methodology generally revolves around three primary foci. It
designates or delimits the tools to be employed and the disciplines to
be engaged. It determines what kind of intellectual and ideological
solutions are suitable for the questions raised. First and foremost,
however, it defines the questions, particularly the types of concerns
to be assigned priority. While full mastery of a topic obviously re-
quires the interactive application of a number of disciplines – and
responsible advocates of any given approach can hardly afford to
rely upon it exclusively – it is self-evident that almost no one is, in
practice, desirous or capable of addressing all issues equally. And
it is the choice of emphases that, more than anything else, defines
a derekh.
This bears directly upon the presentation of the conceptual ap-
proach to talmud Torah. Upon opening a Gemara, we are confronted

with a dual task. We are charged with learning a daf, on the one hand,
and a sugya, on the other. Or, to put it differently, we wish to learn
the text and the subject-matter of the text. The distinction between
iyyun and beki’ut, currently in vogue in the yeshiva world but with
firm roots in Hazal, largely turns on this point.4 At issue is not just
the immanent antithesis of depth versus range. The heart of the
matter lies in the definition of primary responsibility. One mode
demands traversing a given text, regardless of how loosely related
its components might be; the other, mastering a topic – largely by
excising adventitious segments but, compensatorily, incorporating
into one’s learning relevant sections imported from elsewhere and
organically engrafted.
Awareness of this distinction is meaningful with respect to
a range of intellectual pursuits, but is particularly significant with
respect to the learning of gemara. Books on history or geology are
almost invariably organized thematically, so that the gap between
text and topic, if any, is usually minimal. As any neophyte can attest,
however, the meandering character of the gemara, especially the
Bavli, generates a very substantial gap; hence, the far greater need
for definition of the material of study and of its telos.
The distinction is reflected in various genres of sefarim.5 Me-
farshim are intrinsically geared to texts. Sifrei mizvot, by contrast,
are oriented to topics; and so, for the most part, are sifrei psak. This
obviously does not hold with respect to the overall world of psak,
broadly defined. Of the triad cited by the Beit Yosef as his guiding
lights, two, the Rif and the Rosh, pursue the course of the gemara,
their conclusions constituting the final stage in the presentation
and analysis of a given sugya; and a number of the central works of
hakhmei Ashkenaz in this field – Ravan, Ravyah, Sefer Ha-Terumah,
or, at an earlier stage, the cluster originating in Rashi’s bet mid-
rash – are, at best, haphazardly organized. Nevertheless, thematic
structure certainly was the hallmark of the Sephardi tradition, and in
this respect, it subsequently carried the day. The Rambam’s Mishneh
Torah, of course, bestrides all else, and it set the tone for the more
constricted codices of the Tur and the Shulhan Arukh. However,
the systematic impulse is also evident in classical texts – Torat Ha-

Bayit and Sefer Ha-Terumot, both models of lucid exposition, fusing

comprehensive presentation and trenchant analysis – emanating
from the milieu of the Ramban; and that impulse has become fairly
standard in sifrei psak.
Hiddushim, on the other hand, straddle intermediate ground.
They generally follow the sequence of the Gemara, and thus lack an
overall organizing principle. Nevertheless, in the tradition of ba’alei
ha-Tosafot, while lacking a master plan, they strive to treat each
major crux thematically – pulling together far-flung relevant texts,
analyzing central terms, resolving presumed contradictions. The net
effect is often an archipelago of islands that need to be melded into a
continent; and it serves to highlight awareness of the importance of
the distinction between study of texts and mastery of their subject-
matter. Hence, in charting the course of one’s talmud Torah, the need
to determine emphases and establish priorities.
The significance of this distinction is not confined to the choice
and organization of material. It relates, equally, to the mode of
dealing with it; and it serves, consequently, as a point of departure
for delineating the conceptual approach to lomdut. This approach,
virtually by definition, is oriented to working around the exposition
of themes rather than the explication of texts; and it does so with
an eye to probing their ideational content rather than limning their
bare presentation, even if systematic and comprehensive. It takes its
cue from the opening thrust of the plaintful plea incorporated into
the berakhah of Ahavah Rabbah, designated by Hazal6 as a halakhic
variant of Birkat ha-Torah: ‫אבינו אב הרחמן המרחם רחם עלינו ותן בלבנו להבין‬
‫ולהשכיל‬. “Our Father, merciful Father, He who has mercy have mercy
on us, and place in our hearts to understand and to comprehend.”
And it is mindful of the fact that the Rambam used this very formu-
lation in defining Gemara:
‫ושליש יבין וישכיל אחרית דבר מראשיתו ויוציא דבר מדבר וידמה דבר‬
.‫לדבר ויבין במדות שהתורה נדרשת בהן…וענין זה הוא הנקרא גמרא‬
And of the third [of a man’s time devoted to Torah study] he
should [strive] to understand and comprehend the end of a
matter from its beginning, and differentiate a matter from a

matter, compare one thing to another, understand the prin-

ciples by which the Torah is interpreted…and this matter is
what is called gemara.7
Gemara, thus succinctly defined as a mode, is the heart of the

conceptual approach to Torah; and it is no accident that Gemara,
constituted as a corpus, stands at its epicenter.
In practice, upon opening a massekhet, the inquiring student
embarks upon an enterprise whose resolution, if successful, will
provide him with answers to questions about a given phenomenon –
leading, in turn, to mastery of a broader area. From Hazal down, the
Torah world has concerned itself with two kinds of questions that,
for our purposes, I will designate as primary and secondary. The
first category consists of points to be determined as part of any at-
tempt to acquire the relevant data, raw or sophisticated, requisite for
knowing a given phenomenon. These include issues of source (‫מנא‬
‫ מנלן‬,‫ ;)הני מילי‬of scope as regards persons, objects, or circumstances;
of rationale in light of general principles (‫ ;)מאי טעמא‬or of definition,
not simply lexicographic but jurisprudential. And it includes, further,
their interaction – source, scope, and character often being closely
and functionally related. Such questions are sometimes difficult to
answer, but fundamentally they do not constitute difficulties. They
are not conceived as problematic, nor are they generated by accident
or crisis. They are intrinsic, an immanent aspect of any serious learn-
ing endeavor, and neglecting them reflects superficiality and sloth.
Concurrently, the student of Torah expends much energy upon
a second set of questions, which do arise as a matter of accident.
These revolve around contradictions, and they occupy a prominent
place – far greater than in most comparable disciplines, in the world
of talmud Torah. Perceived contradiction is, to be sure, the stuff of
which much intellectual discourse, legal or philosophic, is made.
However, its position is obviously amplified in a system grounded
upon reverence for sacral authority and veneration for the masters
of a tradition. Confronted by apparent discrepancies between di-
vergent texts, the secular jurist may be inclined simply to dismiss
one. The ben Torah, however, while acknowledging the possibility

of irreconcilable conflict, is determined to strive for resolution; and

to that end, he is prepared to devote much effort and to exercise
considerable ingenuity.
The contradiction may vary. It may be between two equally
authoritative texts, as between two baraitot or two pesakim of the
Rambam. Alteratively, it may pit unequal dicta – an Amora against a
mishnah, a Rishon against a Gemara. It may be direct or circumstan-
tial, as when the Gemara states that only one of two propositions can
be derived from a given pasuk, and the Rambam nevertheless cites
both. In all these cases, however, one is not dealing with intrinsic
tasks but with accidents; more with clearing a minefield than with
erecting a structure.
Precisely for this reason, the conceptual approach to learning
is relatively less concerned with secondary questions than more
textually or technically oriented approaches. Its thrust is overwhelm-
ingly tilted toward fundamentals – above all, to the most basic of
intellectual chores: definition. Armed with sets of categories, the
conceptualist strives, first and foremost, to grasp the essential char-
acter of a particular element and, hence, to classify it. He seeks both
to map a given subject and to probe it. The mapping is itself dual,
both local and general. On one plane, he surveys the specifications
of an object or an action, determining which are essential and which
accidental. Is nevelah that becomes unfit for human consumption no
longer denominated as nevelah, or does it retain its identity but is
no longer prohibited? Can one distinguish between the two cardinal
qualities of a mikvah, that it be stagnant and contain a minimum of
forty se’ah, regarding the former as determining whether a body of
water is a mikvah at all, while the latter only qualifies its certification
for certain purposes? On a second plane, the conceptualist will place
a datum within a broader ambience, thus fleshing out the general
category and sharpening understanding of a specific element by
precise comparison with related phenomena. In dealing with the
inedible nevelah, for instance, he will explore its status as an av ha-
tum’ah alongside its kashrut; and he will probably incorporate this
discussion into a fuller treatment of the concept of food as it appears
in diverse halakhic areas.

The process of definition entails recourse to a set of keys – some

master, others individual. Among the former, probably the most
familiar is the distinction between subject and object, person and
datum; but a number of others recur and figure prominently. Of
virtually every de-rabbanan innovation, one will ask whether and
how it is subsumed under a de-Oraita. With respect to positive and
negative mizvot equally, one will often ask what is the prescribed or
proscribed act and what the quintessential fulfillment or contraven-
tion of the divine will. The issue of essence and accident has already
been cited; and closely akin is the determination of which specifica-
tions are mandated by which category. Is visiting one’s rebbe on Yom
Tov an aspect of simhat ha-regel or a dimension of kevod ha-rav?8 Is
the conjunction of the wearing of tefillin and the reciting of Keri’at
Shema an enhancement of the former or of the latter?9 Such points
abound, inherently, in all areas of Halakhah, and they are grist for
the mill of any aspiring lamdan.
Much of the foregoing is obvious if not rudimentary, but per-
haps a brief example will, nevertheless, be instructive.
The opening mishnah in Massekhet Sukkah reads:
,‫סוכה שהיא גבוהה למעלה מעשרים אמה פסולה ורבי יהודה מכשיר‬
‫ושאינה גבוהה עשרה טבחים ושאין לה שלש דפנות ושחמתה מרובה‬
.‫מצילתה פסולה‬
A sukkah that is higher than twenty cubits is invalid; R. Ye-
hudah declares it valid. And one that is not higher than ten
handbreadths, and that does not have three walls, and whose
sunlit portion is greater than its shaded portion is invalid.
Upon learning this mishnah, we shall obviously want to know the

source and reason for these halakhot; and we shall duly find them in
the Gemara. But we shall not be content to do so. We shall compare
the disqualifications cited and ask, with reference to each, what is
its character and level? Does the preponderance of sun over shade
negate the very definition of a sukkah, it being, quintessentially, a
shady nook? Is it only rendered an invalid sukkah; or perhaps nei-
ther, with the pesul only precluding the resident’s performance of

the mitzvah, even though the sukkah itself is kosher? And perhaps
all of these are correct, but with regard to different levels of light?
Analogously, how radical is the concern about excessive height?
And might this be a function of the source?10 If the halakhah is
derived from ‫למען ידעו דורותיכם‬, the problem being that awareness of
presence in a sukkah is obviated by the distance from sekakh, that
is presumably a narrowly technical issue. If it is grounded in the
fact that so high a structure constitutes a permanent edifice more
than a temporary shelter – and if it is assumed that transitoriness is
indeed essential11 – the very definition of sukkah may hang in the
balance, permanence being characteristic of a house, to which the
sukkah is antithetical. At the other end, what is the requirement of
ten tefahim? Is it an application of the general halakhah that this is
the minimal height for all mehitzot or a local specification for liv-
able space – and again, possibly both, but with respect to different
situations?12 And finally, what of the need for three walls? Is this
conceived as a numerical quota or as a level of enclosure? And is
the need for enclosure itself a technical requirement or critical to
the definition of a residence?13
On the other side of the ledger, has this quartet exhausted the
list of specifications requisite for a sukkah, or might there be others?14
If so, why have they been deleted from the opening summary? The
answers to these and similar questions are to be sought with so-
phistication and subtlety, through recourse to textual and logical
proofs, with some of the latter – the determination that alternative
A is correct because of its link to Halakhah B, which only makes
good sense if A is assumed – hinging upon further proof of the
sukkah’s character. The point here, however, is simply to sketch the
scope and character of the agenda, taking note of what is at center
stage and what, possibly of critical importance for other purposes,
is omitted.
The theoretical bias of the conceptual approach is reflected not
only in the question it poses and emphasizes but in the interpreta-
tions it prefers. It has several pronounced, and interrelated, proclivi-
ties. First, wherever possible, its devotees prefer to explain detail, or
controversy about detail, in terms of an ideational construct rather

than with reference to factual or technical factors.15 Typical is the

reluctance to acknowledge the existence of a factual mahloket. Thus,
if Amora’im disagreed as to whether a debtor could be believed if he
claimed that he had paid prior to the due date of his liability – Resh
Lakish holding that he was not, inasmuch as ‫חזקה לא עביד איניש דפרע‬
‫גו זמניה‬, while Abbaye and Rava rejoin that his claim is valid, as ‫עביד‬
‫איניש דפרע גו זמניה‬16 – the lamdan will abjure focusing the debate upon
the evaluative description of debtor psychology and will direct it to
the legal sphere. The issue is not what percentage of debtors might
indeed prepay, but how high the number needs to be in order to
establish the validity of a claim; and this, in turn, may depend upon
halakhic considerations regarding the relation between debtors and
creditors or the general level of probability needed to extract assets.
Or again, upon encountering a mahloket as to whether the partial
levy due if one’s “innocent” animal has gored is to be viewed as a
fine or as a discounted payment, this being grounded in the Gemara
on the question of whether ‫סתם שוורים בחזקת שימור קיימי‬,17 the lamdan
will be inclined to view the discussion as related to the standard of
responsibility and fault rather than to the normal mindset of oxen;
and the standard may itself be a function of how one defines the ba-
sic source of liability for damage inflicted by one’s property, whether
the owner’s negligence in failing to prevent the occurrence or the
bare fact that it has been incurred.18
In some cases, the avoidance of a factual mahloket has a quasi-
moral dimension. Given the esteem in which we hold Hazal, it seems
inconceivable that, even in a pre-scientific age, they would have
argued over what can be readily tested and determined. Thus, with
reference to a mahloket concerning the edibility of certain vegetables,
Rav Binyamin bar Levi asks:
?‫דבר שאפשר לך לעמוד עליו חכמים חלוקים עליו‬

Something that it is possible for you to determine yourself,
the sages dispute over?19
Similarly, the Ramban prefaces his hiddushim to the perek in

Hullin that deals with terefot – and that cites, inter alia, discussions

as to whether an animal that has a terefah can survive more than a

year – by asserting:
‫מה שנחלקו חכמי ישראל בטריפה אם היא חיה או אינה חיה תמוה הוא‬
?‫איך לא בדקו הדבר בנסיונות הרבה‬
That which the sages of Israel disputed about regarding a
terefah, as to whether it lives or does not live [with a year of
its illness or injury] is puzzling; how could it be that they did
not examine the matter with many experiments?20
However, as is made clear by the previous examples, with

respect to which convincing empirical evidence is not so readily
available, the recoil from a factual mahloket goes beyond absolving
gedolei Yisrael from possible charges of indolence. It is part of an
effort, both subliminal and conscious, to channel halakhic debate
into the realm of ideas.
This tendency is equally manifest in the exposition of halakhic
elements wholly removed from the factual sphere. Quantitative
standards, for instance, are recurrently translated into qualitative
categories.21 If Rishonim disagreed as to whether the kinyan of
hagbahah required raising the acquired object one tefah or three,22
the disagreement is not viewed as a choice between two stations on
the same continuum but as concerning the definition of the basic
conception.23 Does hagbahah entail an act that demonstrates, and
hence creates, mastery, in which case the lesser sum may (but need
not, of course) suffice; or does it constitute a change of venue, in
which case the object must be uprooted from its prior location, for
which purpose, in light of the status of the shi’ur of three tefahim
encountered in numerous halakhic contexts, only that will do.
In this respect, the mahloket between Rashi and Rabbenu Tam
concerning hagbahah may be strikingly similar to another, between
Rav and Shmuel, regarding the sister kinyan of meshikhah. Here, too,
the quantitative issue arises: How far must the object be pulled?
‫איתמר ספינה רב אמר כיון שמשך כל שהוא קנה ושמואל אמר לא קנה‬
‫עד שימשוך את כולה‬

As to a ship, Rav said: Once one has performed the act of

pulling to the minimal extent, he has acquired it; Shmuel
said: He has not acquired it until he has pulled all of it [i.e.,
its length].24
And here, too, with respect to the horizontal plane, the same
interpretation suggests itself. On the assumption that a demonstra-
tive process requires less than an achieved result, one might assign
the former view of meshikhah to Rav and the latter to Shmuel.
There is nothing necessary about this line of reasoning. One
could contend, theoretically, that both Amora’im worked within the
same framework, and that their mahloket was arbitrary, intuitional,
the result of psychic differences, or of varying commercial practices
in Sura and Neharda’a. No proof has here been suggested for either
the interpretation herein developed of their disagreement, or for
the premise that the standard applicable to a demonstrative process
is less demanding than that requisite for effected change. The con-
ceptualist is fully aware of this. Moreover, he freely acknowledges
that not all halakhic cruces lend themselves to this kind of analysis.
Nevertheless, his own predilection is clear. Of the aforementioned
alternatives, he will regard some with ideological revulsion. But
even of those which equally pass muster on that score, he has a clear
preference. Recognizing that valid alternatives exist, he will opt,
wherever possible, for theoretically oriented lomdut over a practical
ba’al batisher approach.
Thus, to cite one further instance, the Gemara in Bava Kamma
ascribes to Rav the position that ‫כל המשנה ובא אחר ושינה בו פטור‬25; that
is, that if one deviates from normal behavior in a public setting and,
as a result, suffers damage inflicted upon himself or his property by
a second deviator, the latter is not liable. It then suggests that Rav
Yohanan and Resh Lakish may disagree as to whether this only refers
to more extreme situations, such as an animal lying down in the
middle of a street, or may also include a more moderate anomaly,
such as setting down a pile of clothing or utensils. Obviously, one
could simply contend that we are confronted here by a factual issue
over just how common such action might be; or, alternatively, by

a legal question regarding the definition of deviation and just how

high the bar should be set. Both are legitimate options. Terms like
“normal” and “deviant” cry out, a priori, for definition, and several
alternatives could be reasonably offered with regard to any particular
context. The lamdan will not be content with this, however. He will,
at the very least, explore the theoretical underpinnings of different
definitions, and he will tentatively advance the thesis that these
spring from divergent views of the substance of the exemption of
kol ha-meshanneh. If it is, in essence, a limitation of the responsibil-
ity of the mazzik – he cannot be expected to forestall unanticipated
strange eventualities – such a radical formulation would require
a more extreme deviation. If fundamental liability exists but is, in
practice, suspended by the fault of the victim, this more moderate
conclusion may be warranted by a lesser deviation. And in this, of
course, as in many parallel contexts where two grounds for a given
Halakhah may obtain, it is entirely conceivable that both may be
tenable, so that we envision a two-tiered structure, each with its
respective specification and ramifications.
I have spoken of sets of keys, master and individual, and I
have briefly described some of the former. The latter are local and
plentiful. Each area of Halakhah has its indigenous categories that
serve to classify specific data and by which they may be tested. Once
certain distinctions, and the respective constructs that flow from
them, have been established, they become part of the conceptual
baggage to be applied in mapping and analyzing a sugya, and its
acquisition is one of the central aspects in the development of a
lamdan. The distinction between kedushat Eretz Yisrael and shem
Eretz Yisrael with respect to mizvot ha-teluyot ba-aretz; between a
get’s specific character as a sefer keritut and its generic identity as
a shetar; between form and function with respect to implements;
between a type of tum’ah, abstractly conceived, and its physical
manifestation; which details of a proscribed melakhah relate to the
concept of melekhet mahshevet and which to the contours of, say,
keshirah or ketivah – all these are questions that recur in the course
of mastering the relevant tractates.
The acquisition of keys and their proper use is the staple of the

ordinary lamdan. At its highest plane, however, the conceptual ap-

proach finds expression in the cutting of new keys – some analogous
to existing ones and extrapolated by transference, others perhaps
wholly novel. These, in turn, enter the world of learning and enrich
its vocabulary, providing fresh implements and fresh impetus for
those engaged in the perpetual quest lehavin u-lehaskil.
The conceptual approach, as has been suggested, is inherently
oriented to dealing with primary issues. Obviously, however, its
practitioners can hardly be oblivious to secondary questions; and
with regard to them, too, they are animated by a clear predilection.
Contradictions between two authoritative texts can be resolved in
several ways. One possibility is the emendation, where soundly
based and legitimate, of either text. A second is the acknowledge-
ment that the conflict is irreconcilable, but that both sources can be
sustained by ascription to different persons or traditions. The third
is the neutralization of one or the other text by confining it to a given
case, either by recourse to previous knowledge or by the creative
invention of a fresh limitation, suggested for the express purpose of
resolving the difficulty at hand.
All of these methods are to be found in Hazal. Eipukh or has-
surei mehsera alters the text; ‫ תנא אתנא קא רמית‬,‫תרי תנאי ואליבא דרבי יהודה‬
and ‫ תרי אמוראי ואליבא דרבי יוחנן‬abandon resolution; ‫הכא במאי עסקינן‬,
whatever its variation, confines one of the conflicting poles. None,
however, relates to the world of ideas. Hence, the conceptualist’s
initial and instinctive thrust is in yet another direction. He will strive,
wherever possible, to disarm the contradiction by portraying it as
illusory. Even when affirmative and negative statements are diametri-
cally opposed, the propositions need not be contradictory. They may
refer, respectively, to different halakhic areas, each of which has its
own set of definitions. Even when the nomenclature is identical, the
terms may vary, depending upon their contexts.
This mode is both grounded in simple logic and rooted in
Hazal. When Rav Yosef was asked whether a needle whose eye had
broken off could still be regarded as an implement, so that it could
be moved on Shabbat, he responded affirmatively. Thereupon, he
was rebutted on the basis of the mishnah in Kelim which states that

such a needle is no longer subject to tum’ah, presumably because it

is not a keli, a utensil; at which point Abbaye rejoined, ‫טומאה אשבת‬
‫קא רמית טומאה כלי מעשה בעינן לענין שבת מידי דחזי בעינן והא נמי חזיא למשקלא‬
‫“ בה קוץ‬Have you, then, compared the laws governing purities to
those governing Shabbat? As to purities, the requirement is that the
vessel be one capable of accomplishing its work, [while] in regard to
the laws of Shabbat [we require] something of some use, and this is
useful for picking out up a thorn.” Rava dismissed this answer, con-
tending that the same standard should prevail in both spheres: ‫אמר‬
‫רבא מאן דמותיב שפיר קמותיב מדלענין טומאה לאו מנא הוא לענין שבת נמי לאו מנא‬
‫הוא‬. “Said Rava: He who raises the objection does so correctly, since
it is not a utensil in respect to purities, it is not a utensil in respect
to Shabbat.”26 The interchange became the focus of a wide-rang-
ing debate among the Rishonim, revolving around the question of
whether Rava rejected the distinction between tum’ah and muktzah
in general, or only opposed this particular application. Be that as it
may, the discussion, equally relevant to additional areas in which the
concept of keli figures, is an archetypal instance of the course upon
which conceptual analysis thrives in resolving contradictions.
When resolution proceeds by simple application of known
differences, it may be largely technical and mechanical in nature.
When it engenders freshly conceived distinctions, however, it is the
product of creative energy. As a scientist may be inspired by conflict-
ing empirical evidence to suggest a novel theory that will take all the
disparate phenomena into account,27 so the lamdan will expound a
distinction that will allow for harmonious coherence.
In this respect, primary and secondary questions are closely
related. The quest for resolution serves as a powerful catalyst for
renewed examination and deeper probing of halakhic material; and
its upshot is frequently a revised and more precise understanding
of basic categories. It would, of course, be naive to assume that the
whole of Hiddushei Rabbenu Hayyim ha-Levi was composed purely
in order to defend the Rambam. Unquestionably, many of the semi-
nal ideas had been developed independently, as part of the process
of understanding the Gemara, and here found application. But it
is equally clear that much indeed was stimulated by the quest for

reconciliation; and in this, as in many other respects, it typifies the

conceptual approach and the benefit that its primary plane – always
the prioritized focus of lomdut – derives from the secondary. This
is reinforced by the fact that the resolving conceptualist, ideally, is
not content with a distinction without a difference. He will seek to
buttress his distinction with proof, much of it in the form of the
correspondence and coherence of salient points with the proposed
conception; and this, in turn, often requires a thorough scrutiny of
an entire halakhic realm.
The interaction may be briefly exemplified by a discourse upon
a difficult pesak of the Rambam. The Mishnah states that real prop-
erty is exempted from oaths, even in the case of disputes in which
chattels would be subject to them.28 The Rambam extends this to
include payments for land,29 even though what is at present being
demanded is money, as when the land had been damaged. The Rabad
challenges this, and adduces a mishnah in support of his critique:30
‫א״א נראין דברים שתבעו למלאות החפירות ולהשוות החצירות אבל אם‬
‫תבעו לשלם פחתו הרי היא כשאר תביעת ממון וכמי שאמר לו חבלת בי‬
.‫שתים והוא אומר לא חבלתי אלא אחת‬
Abraham [i.e., Rabad] says: This would seem to be the case
if [the owner of the land] demanded that he fill in the pits
and make the fields level; but if [the owner] demanded that
he pay the [field’s] depreciation, this would be like any other
monetary claim, similar to the case of one who said, “You
injured me twice,” while [the defendant] says, “I injured you
but once.”
The conclusion refers us to a mishnah which states that the

category of modeh be-miktzat, imposing an oath for partial admis-
sion, applies if one has assaulted his fellow. Inasmuch as the Rabad
assumes, as is likewise implied by the Rambam elsewhere,31 that for
such exemptions a person is equated to real property, the demand
for payment due to assault is the equivalent of demai karka, and the
Mishnah therefore contravenes the Rambam’s decision.
In response, after transferring the question, in effect, from

the arena of one mishnah to another, Reb Hayyim offers two radi-
cal distinctions.32 One is the differentiation between contexts and
classes of oaths. Shevu’at ha-dayyanim, that which is administered
by bet din, is a self-contained obligation, to be judged by the canons
of oaths and of dispute as the source of the obligation. Hence, the
root of the dispute is definitional. Shevu’at ha-pikkadon, on the
other hand, administered by a party who claims he has been cheated,
relates to the context of thievery, a false oath being regarded as a
mode of embezzlement. In this case – and it is this situation that is
discussed in the mishnah – what is denied and misappropriated is
the just payment currently refused and withheld; and this, of course,
is money rather than real property.
Alternatively, Reb Hayyim suggests a distinction between dam-
age to property and assault on a person. With respect to the former,
one’s fundamental obligation is to repair or replace the damaged
object; hence, it is the focus of the dispute. As regards the latter,
repair is not usually feasible, as organs cannot be replaced, so that
the obligation is fundamentally monetary, and its cause is of little
moment. These distinctions clearly rest on a number of premises,
some more firmly anchored than others. Each of these needs to be
examined and, optimally, proven. And, of course, one needs to probe
why and where the Rabad parted company with the explanations.
Did he challenge the premises or only the inference from them?
What is manifest is the impetus to cope with a secondary question
by relating it to primary issues rather than by relatively incidental
technical solutions. And what is equally manifest is the extent to
which the understanding of entire areas is illuminated and fructified
by the process of fundamental definition.
From the essentially ideational character of the conceptual
approach there flow, almost as corollaries, several salient character-
istics. The first concerns the timeless issue of the confrontation of
text and reason – in part, a variant of the broader question of faith
and reason; and in part, inasmuch as it arises in secular contexts as
well, an independent concern. Instances in which the literal import
of texts appears to contravene rational perception abound, and these
invite a range of responses. In some, a consensus for reinterpreta-

tion may prevail. Few today would challenge the Rambam’s view
that the grossly anthropomorphic attribution of physical elements
to the Ribbono Shel Olam cannot be understood literally. Indeed, we
would not regard this as philosophically motivated reinterpretation
at all, but simply a manifestation of a form of symbolic expression.
With respect to the attribution of emotion, by contrast, opinions
will vary – reflecting theological differences, but also hermeneutic
differences. With respect to aggadic material in Hazal, likewise, a
spectrum of explication may obtain, and we recall the Rambam’s
classification of various tendencies in this connection, in his preface
to Helek.
Much the same obtains with regard to the world of Halakhah,
within which, at times, authoritative texts may seem to clash with
one’s understanding, inviting a range of responses. It should be clear
that in the relevant spectrum, the conceptual approach leans, almost
immanently, toward reliance upon rational principles and coping
with the texts, rather than vice versa. This is not done eagerly – one
would prefer that the confrontation did not exist – but within limits,
it is done. Critics take understandable umbrage at the practice, but
it is consonant with Hazal – admittedly, more in the Bavli than in
the Yerushalmi. On one plane, it relates to the explication of pesukim.
An Amora, convinced that his halakhic position is correct, may
acknowledge that it runs counter to the simplest understanding of
a parshah, and yet hold his ground and seek to expound the texts
accordingly, asserting, ‫שבקיה לקרא דאיהו דחיק ומוקים אנפשיה‬, “Leave the
verse, for it is required to establish its own [particular] case.”33 As one
of the Rishonim explained, in analyzing whether veha-met yihyeh lo
refers to the mazzik or the nizzak:
‫נראה לרבי דמשמעות דקרא משמע טפי דלמזיק קאמר דהכי משמע‬
‫שלם ישלם שור תחת השור שור אחר תחת השור שהזיק והמת יהיה לו‬
‫לעצמו למזיק ולא יחשב לו בתשלומיו אלא דסברא אינה נותנת לדורשו‬
‫כפי המשמעות כמו שפירשתי שהדין נותן שהנבילה לניזק ודחיק קרא‬
.‫למידרשיה כפי סברת הדין‬
It appeared to my teacher that since the implication of the
verse tends toward [the interpretation of the one who holds

that the verse refers to the] mazzik, for this is what it means:
“He shall surely pay for an ox in place of the ox” – a different
ox in place of the ox that he damaged, “and the dead [ox]
shall be his” – for himself, for the one who[se ox] did the
damage, and it should not be considered as payment [for the
ox]. However, his reason does not allow him to expound it ac-
cording to its implication as I have explained, for logic argues
that the nevelah [should belong] to the one whose property
was damaged, and so the verse is interpreted in a forced way
[to make it conform] to the logical argument.34
On another plane, the same tendency is reflected in some of the

shinuyei dehikki advanced in order to sustain a position as viable,
in the face of its apparent contravention by a baraita. When occa-
sionally necessary, a similar inclination may be manifested by the
conceptualist.
A related inclination concerns the attention – some might
charge, the inattention – to detail. The Rav addressed himself to this
facet in listing ancillary results of Reb Hayyim’s innovations:
,‫שיטה זו של יצירת קונסרוקציות צרופות אינה מבחינה בין עיקר לטפל‬

‫ גם אם הלמדן בטוח‬.‫ הכל – מן המסד עד הטפחות – חשוב‬,‫בין כלל לפרט‬
‫ שהוא‬,‫ וגם אם מרגיש הוא‬,‫ בתבניתה ובצלמה‬,‫באמיתת תהליך החשיבה‬
‫נמצא בדרך הישר וגם רואה הוא אורות מרחוק׳ לא ישקוט׳ ואם אפילו‬
.‫פרט קטנטן אינו מתיישב במערכת הקונצפציה הכללית‬
This theory of the creation of pure constructs does not distin-
guish between an essential and an ancillary matter, between
a rule and a detail, everything – from the foundation to the
eaves – is important. Even if the lamdan is certain of the truth
of his trend of thought in its shape and form, and even if he
feels that he finds himself on the straight path, and even when
he sees light emerging far off, he should not rest if even one
tiny, minuscule detail does not conform with the array of his
general concept.35
I find myself only in partial agreement with the passage. In one

respect, as I have already indicated and exemplified, even technical

details receive major attention in Reb Hayyim’s world. However,
this only applies to details related to conceptual issues, and through
which, whether as evidence or as a possibly differential nafke minah,
the issues can be refracted. Details that are neither here nor there
with respect to principles are likely to be overlooked, for ultimately,
as for Plato, it is the idea that is perceived as ultimate reality and
evokes true interest, rather than the detail.36
I likewise have some reservations about the second sentence;
and I am not certain that its substance always conforms to Brisker
practice. Unquestionably, for the lamdan as for the scientist, there are
key contraindicating findings that may mandate discarding a much-
cherished theory. However, there are also peripheral minutiae for
the sake of which a deeply held conviction will not be abandoned, in
the hope that the difficulty will be resolved by someone, somewhere,
subsequently. In this respect, a remark attributed to Reb Hayyim
may be instructive. The story is told of a questioner who pressed
Reb Hayyim about a certain difficulty. Reb Hayyim referred the
questioner to a certain Tosafot. Upon examining it, he was amazed
to find that it was only a small section, opening with teima as an
expression of difficulty, offering no subsequent resolution, and, what
was worst, wholly unrelated to the topic about which he had asked.
Puzzled, he returned to Reb Hayyim, who explained, “I just wanted
you to see that one does not die of a kashya.”
Third, pursuit of the conceptual approach has implications for
canons of evidence. Pressed in the course of a shi’ur for the source of
a point he had made, the Rav once responded, “A clear and logical
mind.” That was pithily and sharply stated, but it reflects a general
tendency. As has already been suggested, definition is central to
the approach, and it is a process frequently informed by various
litmus tests. Their validity often rests, however, on the assumption
of a link between a category and a characteristic, so that the pres-
ence or absence of the latter could help one determine whether a
given phenomenon belonged to the former. The link is not always
explicit, however, and its status is simply assigned by “a clear and
logical mind.” If, however, a differently minded opponent should

challenge the link, the evidence falls and the point it was summoned
to buttress remains unsupported.
We return, by way of example, to the first mishnah in Sukkah.
Arguing from Tosafot’s view that if one sat under an opening of less
than three tefahim in the sukkah, one could still fulfill the mitzvah,37
Reb Hayyim sought to prove that the preponderance of shade over
sun related to the sukkah proper rather than to the mitzvah of resid-
ing within it. The implicit premise is self-evident. Should one reject
it and contend that, if the deficiency of sitting in a sukkah which has
hamatah merubbah mi-tzilatah invalidates the act but not the sukkah,
one could fulfill the mitzvah under an empty sky, there would be
no explicit text to refute this. Only the perception that this thinking
was perverse would clinch the evidence. And so it is in numerous
areas, within which different levels of coherence and reasonable-
ness – tested by consistency with other data as well as with general
rationality – are marshalled in order to establish propositions. The
litmus test itself may need to have its status established by another
litmus test, in an ascending order of certitude, until we have reached
incontrovertible contentions. The result is a significant degree of
networking as part of the process of weaving a halakhic fabric.
The conceptual approach is no recent innovation. Its primary
features are clearly present in Hazal, recurrently manifest in Ris-
honim, and amply exemplified by many Aharonim who were pre-
cursors of the Brisker tradition, with which the approach is now
most familiarly associated. Much of this is only perceived in ret-
rospect, however, and unquestionably Reb Hayyim, for whom this
approach was not merely one of the many arrows in his quiver, but
the central mode of learning, gave conceptualism great impetus
toward preeminence. In this respect, he certainly effected a major
sea change – particularly noteworthy when his achievement is con-
trasted with the overall direction of most of his immediate forerun-
ners and contemporaries.
Much of their work, parshanut and pilpul apart, was devoted to
surveying a topic, mapping it adequately, ferreting out the major shit-
tot and distinguishing between them, and examining their relation
to basic sources, finding support in some and coping with seeming

contravention in others. This was valuable, but it only went so far.

Reb Hayyim did not content himself with surveying. He wanted to
mine; and to that end he examined what he learned in the light of
fundamental conceptual categories and finely honed distinctions.
In the process, he brought to bear (in Coleridgean terms) not only
fancy but imagination. In this undertaking, he surely had ample
precedent and built upon predecessors. Just as surely, he was strik-
ingly original.38
During the century-plus that has elapsed since his advent as
a major luminary of the Torah firmament, his derekh has attained
wide provenance, at first as state-of-the-art talmud Torah, and sub-
sequently as the standard modus operandi in the most prominent
yeshivot. This is truer of Ashkenazi centers of learning than of Se-
phardi, and, furthermore, more characteristic of mitnagdim than of
hasidim. On the whole, however, the gradual ascendancy has been
both broad and impressive. Although most richly manifested in the
sphere of Kodashim and Toharot, it has been successfully applied in
all areas of Halakhah; and while most immediately identified with
Brisk, its imprint is perceptible in many other pastures. For the
Rav, Telshe in general and Rav Shimon Shkop in particular were
the epitome of wrongheaded artifice. Yet the fact remains that the
Sha’arei Yosher bears a closer affinity to Reb Hayyim than either
bore to the Radbaz. Perhaps we should also note in this connec-
tion a remark apocryphally attributed to Rav Eliezer Gordon to
the effect that if Rav Simha Zelig (the dayyan in Brisk and a close
associate of Reb Hayyim) came to Telshe, he would be granted the
yeshiva, but that if Reb Hayyim came, he would be given the whole
town.
Nevertheless, the conceptual approach has not gone with-
out opposition, and this from two divergent quarters, one firmly
anchored in the Torah world, the other perched on its periphery.
Almost from the outset, Reb Hayyim encountered resistance even in
his own Lithuanian milieu, Volozhin included, from yoshvei bet ha-
midrash. Some was engendered by sheer innovation. This is clearly
implicit, even in the next generation, in a passage from Rav Henoch
Agus’s preface to his Marheshet:

‫הקדמתי דברים אלה באשר ידוע הוא כי בזמננו נשתנו הרבה דרכי הלימוד‬
‫ שסגנון סברתם ואופן הבנתם פלסו להם נתיב בבתי‬,‫בתלמוד תורתנו הק׳‬
‫ כאשר כל ימי‬,‫ ואני‬,‫ וביחוד בבתי הישיבות בדורנו‬,‫מדרש התורה והתלמוד‬
‫גדלתי בין חכמי ביה״מ הישן…בבואי היום להפיץ מעיינותי החוצה…ואירא‬
‫כי עירום אנכי מכתנות האור וההגיון בתלמוד כאלה אשר חדשים מקרוב‬
‫ שתו ממי‬,‫ ואשר התלמידים הבאים אחריהם‬,‫באו והביאו מסגנוני למודם‬
‫מעיינות אלו והיו בפיהם כדבש למתוק…והליכותי בחדושי הלכות הנן‬
.‫בדרך הכבושה והסלולה מרבותינו קדמאי ובתראי ז״ל‬
I have written this introduction in light of the well-known
[development] that in our time the ways of study in the learn-
ing of our sacred Torah have changed considerably, and the
style of their thought and manner of their understanding have
made a place [lit., “way”] for themselves in the batei midrash
of Torah and Talmud, and in particular, in the yeshivot of our
generation. As for myself, all my life I grew up among scholars
of the old beit midrash…. [And] when I come today to publish
my novellae [lit., “my wellsprings”]…I see that I am naked
of the robes of light and logic in the Talmud like these which
are newly come from near, bringing with them the style of
their learning, and the disciples who come after them, who
drank from the waters of these wellsprings, which tasted as
sweet as honey in their mouths…. And my paths in hiddushei
halakhot are [created in the manner] of the well-maintained,
well-trodden paths of our teachers, early and later, may their
memory be blessed.39
Some of the resistance, however, emanating from skeptics who

somewhat condescendingly referred to Reb Hayyim as “the chemist,”
was strictly substantive. The criticism was two-pronged, denigrating
conceptualism as both insufficient and erroneous, the two being
perhaps related. The insufficiency was itself dual. One cannot labor
on all fronts equally; and while all aspects of learning can conjoin in
the harmonious quest for truth, psychological and practical exigen-
cies mitigate the assignment of priorities. Hence, it was argued, the
enormous emphasis placed upon analysis, and the palpable gratifica-
tion deriving from its successful execution, inevitably came at the

expense of other goals. The conclusion of the debate in Horayot40 was

being reversed, the oker harim now gaining preeminence over the
Sinai, and both beki’ut and the ambition to attain it were being ad-
versely affected. “The Brisker,” Rav Eliyahu Feinstein once observed
to his grandson, the Rav, “are very impressed with fine sevarot. But
as far as I am concerned, if one has forgotten a mishnah in Ohalot,
he cannot be regarded as a lamdan.”
This objection, largely educational, is weighty per se. But the
critique ran deeper, with a methodological cutting edge. Much of
what Reb Hayyim superseded consisted of a literature of dexterous
pyrotechnics of pilpul and ingeniously convoluted hillukim. How-
ever, knowingly or unwittingly, he likewise devalued works that
elaborately or compendiously surveyed the various views regarding
a given topic. And he also nudged aside the Maharsha and the Pnei
Yehoshua, and even aspects of Rav Akiva Eiger’s Derush ve-Hid-
dush – nudged aside, that is, works more consistently concerned
with textual explication, with charting the ebb and flow of shakla
ve-tarya, with reconstructing the movement from a Tosafot’s open-
ing to its conclusion.
Benign neglect of this material could be dangerous beyond
the sheer constriction of range. For one thing, it might inherently
be more prevalent. Perusal of much of this bookshelf is laborious,
relatively mechanical, and often technical. For sheer beauty and ex-
citement, tedious plodding through the Maharam Shif cannot hold
a candle to Reb Hayyim’s soaring imagination and piercing insights.
Radical conceptual analysis cracks open a sugya with illuminating
force beyond the range of masters of combination and heshbon. But,
second, such a gap was not only more likely but more deleterious.
Ignorance of mishnayot in Ohalot is lamentable, but it will ordinarily
have little impact upon one’s understanding of Megillah or Menahot.
However, rush to analysis or judgment on the part of some who seek
to run before they have properly mastered walking, leaves more than
gaping holes in one’s overall knowledge. It may preclude mastery of
the range of material, be it even in Hazal or in Rishonim, relevant
to a topic. One cannot legitimately claim to present the full panoply
of views regarding hatikhah azmah na’asseit nevelah if he has no

knowledge of the Ravan’s extensive but obscure disquisition on the

topic.41 Nor can one adequately discuss the issue of hafrashat hallah
from dough owned by a Jew but kneaded by a Gentile if he is oblivi-
ous of the discussion of the problem by the Ravyah42 and the Or
Zarua.43 Worse still, constricted knowledge and relative ignorance
of the tradition of parshanut, in all its manifestations, may lead to
erroneous conclusion within the ambience of a given sugya, as one
has not examined its turf properly.
Concurrently, the conceptual approach has come under fire in
the halls of academia; and there, too, the attack has been dual. The
acolytes of Wissenschaft, like the traditionalist critics, charge con-
ceptualism with insufficiency and error, although in a quite different
sense. From their point of view, the conceptualists are indifferent to
fundamentals. They put little effort into establishing the exact text,
are blithely oblivious to realia, and often pay scant attention to the
internal or external development of a sugya. In a sense, it is charged,
they do not so much learn the Gemara as use it.
Far more grievous is the second critique – that conceptual-
ist conclusions are simply wrong. This contention rests upon two
separate hypotheses. The first is that, sans scholarship, without an
arsenal of philological, historical, and scientific tools, one just cannot
arrive at sound conclusions even regarding ideational issues. The
second is that the very rigor and illumination which is the pride of
the conceptual approach attests to its falsity. Certain scholars simply
refuse, a priori, to believe that Hazal could have attained or intended
the degree of precision and sophistication achieved by nineteenth-
century legists; and hence, as an article of faith, they decry lomdut
as a gross misreading of the classical texts of Torah she-be’al-peh.
Other critics espouse a largely existentialist critique. The con-
ceptual approach, they contend, is too rarefied, so that its votaries
lose touch with visceral reality. One member of this group went so
far as to suggest that the method may be all right for the Diaspora,
where lomdim are insulated from the inner essence of their physical
surroundings, but is wholly unsuitable for Israeli youth, to whom
organic relatedness is crucial. This dilettante fusion of metaphysics
and psychology borders on the preposterous, but the reservation

can be advanced within more rational parameters. In his summary

presentation of Reb Hayyim’s methodological breakthrough, the Rav
points out, inter alia, that he had elevated Hilkhot Ta’aruvot from the
realm of pots and pans to that of conceptual categorization:
‫ ועניינים אלו‬,‫ כי יבוא יום‬,‫כיוצא בזה במקצוע איסור והיתר…מי ניחש‬

‫ הסברי חוץ וסברות בעלי־בתיות וייעשו‬,‫ישתחררו מכבלי העובדתיות‬
‫ המצטרפים לשיטה אחידה בעלת‬,‫דברי הגות מופשטים ומושגים מסודרים‬
,‫ פתאום נעלמו מהלכות בשר וחלב הכפות והקדירות‬.‫רציפות ועקיבות‬
‫ מהלכות תערובת – המים הרותחים והשמן שנפל לתוך‬,‫הבצלים והצנון‬
‫ המלח‬,‫ מהלכות מליחה – הדם והשמנונית‬,‫היין והעכבר שנפל לתוך השמן‬
‫ ענייני איסור והיתר הוסטו מן המשק הביתי ונעתקו לספירה‬.‫והשפוד‬
‫ הכול‬.‫אחרת של הלכה אידיאלית שהכול בה מתגלגל בתכנים מחשבתיים‬
.‫נהפך ל״מציאות״ הלכתית והכול נקלט לתוך מערכת מושגית מופשטת‬
‫ שכל הפורש מהם מורד בשכל‬,‫ההוראה מושתתת על יסודות מוצקים‬
.‫ההלכתי ופורש מן החיים‬
Similarly, in the area of issur ve-heter…who would have pre-
dicted that the day would come when these matters would be
freed from the chains of facticity, explanations not intrinsic
to the matter, and “baalebatische” ideas, and become matters
of abstract thought and orderly concepts, which combine [to
produce] a unified, consistent theory. The spoons and pots,
the onions and radishes, have disappeared from the halakhot
of meat and milk; boiling water and oil that has fallen into
wine, a mouse that has fallen into oil – all have disappeared
from the halakhot of mixtures; blood and fat, salt and spit
have disappeared from the halakhot of salting. Matters of
issur ve-heter have been moved from the kitchen and into
another sphere, that of ideal Halakhah, which is entirely con-
cerned with conceptual structures. All has been converted to
“halakhic reality,” and all has been absorbed into its array of
abstract concepts. Pesak is based on solid foundations, so that
whoever departs from them rebels against halakhic thought
patterns and separates himself from life.44
However, what the Rav noted with evident pride, others sim-

ply deplore. Neither Lorenzos nor Jessicas, they are not attuned
to the music of the spheres. They need to hear dishes rattling and
utensils clattering in order to feel connected with what John Crowe
Ransom called “the world’s body.” They postulate of Halakhah what
Archibald Macleish wrote of a poem, that it “must not mean but be,”
and they sense, correctly, that Brisk points in a different direction.
And still others, impelled by a holistic perception of metaphysical
and spiritual reality, view analysis with a jaundiced eye, regarding
it, with Wordsworth, as “that false secondary power by which we
multiply distinctions.”
Collectively, these objections pose a formidable challenge; and
it behooves bnei Torah who have encountered them as lomdim or as
melamdim – albeit, in some cases, would that they had not! – to re-
late to them. Relation should be differential, however. The existential-
ist critique needs to be confronted on two planes. The first concerns
fundamental personal orientation. How important, philosophically
or religiously, is concreteness? On various levels, the question divides
Platonists and Aristotelians, realists and nominalists, classicists
and Romanticists; and while we all have our own inclination – one
recalls Coleridge’s dictum that “every man is born an Aristotelian
or a Platonist”45 – I would be reluctant to answer it with a norma-
tive “must.” The second plane is factual. Conceptualization need not
vitiate concreteness. The quest for abstraction certainly influences
the direction and the character of intellectual endeavor during the
process of learning. That having run its course, however, the emo-
tional capacity to relate to a specific datum with a heightened sense
of its immediacy is no more affected than the ability to listen to the
Eroica intensely and appreciatively is eviscerated by having previ-
ously analyzed it. Whitehead’s critique of Lockean epistemology
was, in this connection, unquestionably sound, but it related to a
metaphysics that championed the denudation of nature rather than
to the analytic enterprise per se.
As for the more strictly methodological objections, some we
ignore at our peril, others we entertain at our peril. The relative
neglect (worse, at times even the disdain) of beki’ut is certainly of
grave import – particularly insofar as it not only leaves whole tracts

untouched but even dilutes or distorts the study of those that are.
There is much to be said for the contention that an imbalance exists
at present in much of the yeshiva world; and that, while the need
to budget time will always exist, current priorities are somewhat
skewed. Rav Yosef Baer Soloveitchik (of Jerusalem) once told me
that Reb Hayyim, at one point, had two daily sedarim, each lasting
six hours, and in each of which he covered eighteen blatt. When I
remarked that this did not quite consort with the view I had enter-
tained of him or his tradition, he responded, ‫דאס איז אלץ געווען שפע־‬
‫טער‬, “That all came later.” Adopting the method without a shadow
of the background can indeed be problematic; and this needs to be
acknowledged and, to some extent, redressed.
At present, moreover, the issue is greatly complicated by un-
fortunate educational circumstances. The store of basic knowledge,
even of raw information, that many yeshiva students possess today
ranges from limited to abysmal, often through little fault of their own.
In many segments of the modern Orthodox community, the lack of
a social impetus to serious learning, and the related waste of time
and energy during childhood and adolescence, produces talmidim
who may be capable and well-intentioned but whose infrastructure
is shallow and narrow. This situation confronts their rabbeim with
a dilemma, and it induces diametrically opposed responses. Some
feel it is ludicrous to dwell upon the niceties of a fine discussion of a
Rambam when, just a bit to the right or a bit to the left, there lurks
a precipitous chasm of ignorance. Others contend, contrarily, that
meaningful scope being beyond reach in any event, it would be best
to heighten at least the qualitative dimension and expose students to
the power and the glory of lomdut. The quandary is sad; and, while
technology is increasingly helpful in reducing the gap, the problem
shall continue to plague us for some time. Quite independently of
this factor, however, greater breadth, particularly within the con-
fines of a topic, shall enable us to derive maximal benefit from the
conceptual approach while avoiding the possible pitfalls.
As to the lacunae regarding textual accuracy, philological
precision, and knowledge of realia, these admittedly exist, but they
need to be placed in perspective. I trust that no one questions the

significance of an accurate text of the Gemara as the base of its

study or the legitimacy of checking manuscripts in order to establish
it. The Rishonim engaged in this sphere, and while they may have
differed concerning the scope of emendation, they never regarded
time and energy devoted to girsa’ot as wasted. Likewise, a number of
major early Aharonim – the Bah, the Maharshal, not to mention the
Gra – were active in this area. And with good reason. All of us can
recall instances in which a single letter – mish’at ketivah or mish’at
ketubah, nishba or ve-nishba 46 – turned a major sugya on its head,
and innumerable cases in which nuances were substantively affected
by variant readings.
Nevertheless, it is true that in an era dominated by concep-
tualism, the average ben Torah – probably the average gadol ba-
Torah – devotes relatively scant attention to this field. There are, I
believe, several factors at play here. One is the fact that girsa’ot are
currently regarded as a specialty. The ability to gather and collate
manuscripts, to choose between variants, and to delve into their
nuances, is deemed to require linguistic and paleographic expertise
not ordinarily found in the aspiring lamdan. A second factor is the
advent of printing, and the enormous provenance of the Vilna Shas.
This has imposed a degree of standardization unattainable in the
days of manuscripts, and lent an aura of sanctity to the daf, whose
possible revision might be regarded as undermining faith itself.
Thirdly, the fact that textual variants are so heavily emphasized
by the Wissenschaft community, which much of the Torah world,
for entirely different reasons, mistrusts, has served to alienate many
from what ought to have been appreciated. When the Dikdukei
Sofrim first appeared, it was warmly greeted and freely cited by a
number of gedolim. A century later, that had changed.
I offer these conjectures by way of explanation but not of jus-
tification. Indeed, the Torah world should pay more attention to
this component. Even if few can or should acquire the specialized
training needed for mastering the field, access to its findings can and
should be more widespread than it is today. We need not exaggerate.
The prevailing perception that the overwhelming majority of textual
variants cited are of little or no substantive consequence is indeed

correct. Nevertheless, greater awareness is in order; and in some

instances, it can serve as a conceptual tool in the hands of a lamdan
seeking to establish a given position. In my view, progress has been
made in this direction – witness the editions of mishnayot, the Fran-
kel Rambam (with, additionally, Bava Kamma the first massekhet
of Shas to be published), the modicum of apparatus criticus woven
into editions of many Rishonim during the last two decades – and
more progress can be anticipated. In this textual area, as opposed
to the gutting of Hazal’s world through conjectural evisceration
and stratification, the beit midrash can reap benefits from work now
largely initiated on the outside.
Many of the points that have been raised with respect to tex-
tual accuracy apply equally to knowledge of realia. This, too, is the
province of experts but accessible to a wider audience. This, too,
can obviously be of critical halakhic import in some cases; and in
making a plea for greater sensitivity to the subject, Professor Sperber
had little difficulty in culling such instances.47 Yet, here, too, most of
the specialized knowledge is of little conceptual significance, except
insofar as one simply wants to know, as fully as possible, what is
being depicted in the Gemara. I have recounted elsewhere Rav Saul
Lieberman’s shock upon discovering that an eminent talmid hakham,
with whom he had discussed redi’yat ha-pat, did not know to which
stage in the baking process the term corresponded. And I repeat here
what I noted there. The shock is understandable, but the fact remains
that one can discuss key issues regarding the phenomenon – such
as the status of the category of hokhmah she’ein immah melakhah,48
to which it belongs – without this information. Must one know the
chemical composition of hametz in order to analyze the essence of
the prohibition of bal yera’eh and bal yimazei? Or the biology of
menstruation in order to determine whether a niddah is defined as
an ervah and the relation between the tum’ah and the issur related
to her? Obviously, for certain purposes, especially as regards pesak,
knowledge of realia is often critical. While learning Bava Kamma,
one can get by even if he thinks a shor is a donkey and a hamor an
ox; but the same can hardly be said of learning Kil’ayim. For most
of one’s learning, however, approximation will suffice.

This is not to denigrate the importance of factual information

or of those who labor to provide it. Anyone who engages in serious
learning is indebted to them at some point, and the debt should
be acknowledged. These remarks are intended to place this facet
in proper perspective. To this end, we need to distinguish, without
recourse to false antithesis, between central definitions and supple-
mentary data. Finally, here too, one hopes that greater sensitivity to
the value of factual knowledge can be integrated into the conceptual
approach without significantly diluting it.
Admittedly, there are classes of information, especially literary
and historical, that may bear more directly and substantively upon
the structure and essence of a sugya. Full discussion of this element
would, however, open up issues that lie beyond the scope of this
paper. Here I shall content myself with stating again that this aspect
likewise probably deserves more attention than the Torah world
currently assigns it, but that it hardly deserves center court.
The second academic critique cuts much deeper – indeed, so
deep that it challenges not Brisk alone but the whole tradition of
the elucidation of havayot de-Abbaye ve-Rava. Bringing to bear its
canons of interpretation and its historicistic orientation, it assigns
limits to what can be reasonably denominated as the content and
intent of primary texts and dismisses violators as out of bounds.
Thus, Rabbenu Tam and the Rambam are rejected as expositors of
the Gemara; and, a fortiori, Reb Hayyim as an authentic rendering of
all. These are grave issues, inhering at the interface of methodology
and ideology. It should be frankly asserted that the “Brisker derekh”
(like the yeshiva world in general) is grounded upon clearly con-
ceived and richly experienced articles of faith – in the pliancy and
depth of multifaceted Torah, in the sagacity and depth of hakhmei
ha-mesorah, ‫ויאמינו בה׳ ובמשה עבדו‬. This faith does not obviate the need
to grapple with questions concerning the character of the Gemara
and the Mishnah as texts, and its relation to the intentions of authors
and the perceptions of interpreters – issues that lie beyond the scope
of this paper. However, it provides the context for that discussion,
precluding, above all, a Procrustean bed for that which is ‫ארכה מארץ‬
‫מדה ורחבה מני ים‬.

The interaction of methodology and ideology impinges upon

the conceptual approach in two ways. On one plane, considerations
of emunot ve-de’ot effectively bar the acceptance of certain modes
of interpretation; specifically, those that denigrate Hazal and chal-
lenge their preeminence, thereby running afoul of a definition of the
Rambam’s which the Rav was much wont to quote:
‫שלשה הן הכופרים בתורה…וכן הכופר בפרושה והוא תורה שבעל פה‬

.‫והמכחיש מגידיה כגון צדוק ובייתוס‬
There are three who deny the Torah…also, one who denies
its interpretation, namely, the Oral Torah, or denies its pro-
ponents, such as Zadok and Boethos [who rejected the oral
teachings of the sages].49
A talmudic critic might sit in superior judgment upon the

Gemara because he can conjugate the aorist, while Ravina and Rav
Ashi probably couldn’t. Brisker scions harbor no such inclination.
This point, however, is not peculiar to Reb Moshe Soloveitchik
or Reb Isser Zalman Meltzer. It serves to divide traditionalists, of
whatever ilk, from more venturesome academicians. A second fac-
tor, however, does influence the choice of a specific derekh, setting
off Brisk from some other, equally traditional camps. As I have
already intimated, conceptualists freely concede that other modes
are dogmatically feasible, yet firmly and fervently champion their
own. Much of pilpul is rejected as either far-fetched and fantastic or
diversionary and trivial; it simply does not address the central and
critical issues. But what is the basis of the no less emphatic rejection
of a pedestrian ba’al batisher approach?
In part, admittedly, there may be a subjective element. The lat-
ter approach is far less gratifying. Both the questions it raises and the
answers it suggest lack the excitement and the sparkle of conceptual
analysis. Its votaries do not mine deeply and do not roam widely.
The creative urge animating the conjunction of precision and sweep
manifested in the best of Brisk simply does not characterize grappling
and groping within the confines of a pragmatic mode. A measure of
relative independence, derived, in part, from the direct link to the

Gaon of Vilna, and, in part, from hashkafic inclination, was deeply

rooted in Reb Hayyim personally, and it reverberates throughout his
tradition. It found expression even in the relatively conservative area
of pesak. The Rav once quoted his father to the effect that “one should
pasken on the basis of the Gemara and the Rishonim, and control
with the Shulhan Arukh” – a far cry from those for whom the Peri
Megadim is categorically authoritative.50 This quality has since been
eroded somewhat, for Reb Hayyim’s spiritual heirs have often found
themselves constricted by him. Nevertheless, it remains a hallmark,
and was celebrated as such in Ish Ha-Halakhah.51 Moreover, it is not
confined to Brisk, but is endemic and immanent in the conceptual
approach. It surely is no accident that one of the most ringing af-
firmations of human engagement in the creative molding of Torah
appears in the preface to Ketzot Ha-Hoshen, one of the seminal texts
of nineteenth-century conceptualism.
This element is complemented by a seemingly, but only seem-
ingly, opposite consideration. Jewish tradition is suffused with the
faith that talmud Torah, as immediate contact with the most direct
vehicle of revelation, can enhance both personal spirituality and
relation to the Ribbono Shel Olam. Of course, in the process of study,
one’s attention is riveted upon a text or an idea, but the text or idea
is experienced in context. It is as if one were observing a painting
or attending a concert in a royal palace. One focuses upon the art
or the music, but the sense of relating to it in the palace, rather than
at an auction or in a subway station, is crucial. The sensitive soul is
caught up by the association of royalty – its majesty, its history – and
is drawn into a more intense relation (at times, perhaps, negative) to
it. And the more keenly one peers, and the more intently one listens,
the fuller and deeper the impact; the more one may be affected by the
totality of the experience. The student of Torah enters the portals of
Shekhinah, and within its confines, is caught up by its power – and its
glory. The sharper, more vivid and precise his perception of what he
encounters, the more powerful, potentially, his response; the fuller,
as a homo religiosus, his submissiveness.
There is also, however, an objective factor, and I submit that it
has strong ideological roots. While lomdut may indeed enhance the

lamdan on one plane, it seems, first and foremost, to enhance Torah

proper. We often speak, by analogy with a role ascribed in the pasuk
to the Ribbono Shel Olam, of seeking lehagdil Torah ule-ha’adirah; and
this entails not merely absorbing and then disseminating, but literally
elevating and enriching. Torah that is perceived as grounded upon
rational principles and marked by consistency and coherence, that is
developed and perceived as an organic unity, is nobler than one that is
a potpourri of practical directives. As Einstein rejected Heisenberg’s
indeterminacy because he could not imagine God playing dice with
the universe, so, I believe, Reb Hayyim espoused conceptualism be-
cause he could not imagine devar Hashem as a pedestrian amalgam
of incommensurate detail. There is power, majesty, and grandeur in
Torah, conceptually formulated, that a patchwork of minutiae, largely
molded by ad hoc pragmatic considerations, simply cannot match.
Admittedly, from a certain point of view, precisely because of
its relative paucity, the study of “dull, sublunary” Torah may entail
and reflect a profounder religious commitment than more exciting
conceptual talmud Torah. Inasmuch as one derives less intellectual
benefit, one’s learning is more purely selfless – more, if you will,
lishmah. However, while this point may be correct, it is beside the
mark. The mishnah at the end of Bava Batra states, ‫הרוצה שיחכים יעסוק‬
‫“ בדיני ממונות‬whoever wishes to become wise should occupy himself
with the laws regarding monetary matters.”52 Ought we to suggest
that the religious impulse should divert us from learning dinei
mamonot, so that the self-willed desire for wisdom not be realized?
At stake is the quality of Torah, not the merit of the learner. If, as
is surely the case, the substance and the stature of Torah and the
opus of hakhmei ha-mesorah can be enhanced and sharpened by a
lomdische rendering, that rendering is optimal. If a simplistic read-
ing reduces the Torah’s stature, its status should be pegged accord-
ingly. Torah may have seventy faces, but they need not be equally
regarded. Unquestionably, this element needs to be weighed in the
context of responsibility to truth. We must beware of golden error
that may dazzle more than drab truth; and if ever we intuit that being
wrongheaded is worse than being wrong, it is time to repent. The
basic value judgment is, however, very much in order.

In the Rav ’s disquisition upon the Brisker method in “Mah

Dodekh mi-Dod,”53 the section on the quality of lomdische Torah
appears to blend with the discussion of another characteristic much
emphasized by him: its autonomy. I am not certain, however, that the
connection is necessary. Clearly, where a set of principles is dominant
in a system, they can be regarded as governing the determination of
detailed cases. However, this offers no intrinsic assurance that the
principles themselves might not be externally derived or influenced.
Contrarily, nothing prevents a conglomeration of practical directives
from being, each and every one of them, indigenous. Perhaps lomdut
increases the likelihood of autonomy, but no more. I do not wish
to harp upon this point in this connection; but the overall theme of
enhancing the quality of Torah is crucial.
Over and above these considerations, some may be sorely
tempted to relate the conceptual approach to a specific theological
infrastructure. I am certain that Reb Hayyim would have resisted
the suggestion vigorously; and I, for one, would take him at his word.
I do not believe that his basic assumptions in the area of emunot
ve-de’ot, or the quality of spirituality that characterized him, were
much different from the tradition in which he was reared, or that
any presumed differences significantly affected his innovation. Of
course, he was much opposed to rationalizing tendencies or apolo-
getics with respect to ta’amei ha-mitzvot, and unquestionably this
fits in well with the focus upon definition. But the opposition was
hardly peculiar to him. Certainly, his mode of interpreting Humash
was very different from the Netziv’s; but again, for reasons only
marginally related to conceptualism. One can be a thoroughgoing
conceptualist and still, as in the Ha’amek Davar, relate intensively
to the human side of the Torah’s narrative; and the Rav is a prime
example. If contrasted with some aspects of Hasidut or with some
formulations of Rav Kook, there are, of course, significant hashkafic
differences. But viewed within its own ambience, the conceptual
approach, in its modern manifestation, did not herald a theological
transformation.
The last century has witnessed a triumphal ascendancy of
the conceptual approach, in its Brisker visage. From its inchoate

gestation in shi’urim at Volozhin, through semi-private learning

with a devoted band of family members and talmidim in Brisk, the
derekh has gone on to captivate the imagination of much of the
Torah world and to capture many of its bastions. In the process, it
has undergone certain changes. Inevitably, some of the qualities that
marked Reb Hayyim personally, and his imprint generally, have been
somewhat attenuated. A great creative wave recedes in time, and it
is unrealistic to expect a pioneering spirit to sustain itself after it has
become the establishment. The spirit of independence that guided
his bold originality has gradually become more muted. Of first-class
gedolim, this has been true by dint of the sheer fact that they were no
longer establishing a tradition but were firmly ensconced within it,
very much in the shadow of its founder. As to ordinary bnei Torah,
for many of them, independence has not been so much muted as
consciously reversed, servile imitation and submissive acceptance
of Reb Hayyim’s derekh and of specific hiddushim adopted by many
as the call of the hour. Reb Velvel is reputed to have sought a Shas
without Rashi and a Mishneh Torah sans nos’ei kelim. Many presumed
followers appear to seek editions with Hiddushei Rabbenu Hayyim
and Hiddushei Maran Ha-Griz right on the page.
Concomitantly, the range of sefarim used has increased sig-
nificantly. Reb Hayyim and his sons used relatively few; and in
his hesped of Reb Velvel, the Rav noted this fact as a barometer of
concentration and self-reliance. However, he himself ranged further
afield than had Reb Moshe, and his brother, mori ve-rabbi, Rav Ah-
ron, ‫יבל״א‬, half a generation younger, casts a far wider net than he
did. The same is true, for instance, of Rav Moshe Sternbuch’s Moadim
U-Zemanim Ha-Shalem, as compared with the sefer of his mentor,
Reb Velvel. The change is partly due to the greater availability of
material, but it also reflects a partial change of mindset. And the
spate of monographs currently inundating the Torah world, some
written in a Brisker context, reflects an Alexandrian aspect totally
at variance with Reb Hayyim’s emphasis. In the same vein, some
purport to see a relaxation of the taut and relentless pursuit of amit-
tah shel Torah and of the readiness to labor, mightily and intensively,
in order to plumb its depths. Around fifteen years ago, Rav Abba

Berman remarked to Rav Yosef Baer Soloveitchik here in Jerusalem

that he thought “yegi’at ha-Torah is going under.” “You are wrong,”
was the pungent response, “it has already gone under.” And indeed,
the recent rise in the study of Halakhah le-ma’aseh at the expense of
learning be-iyyun may reflect this decline.
No less significant are the changes in substantive content. The
sharp thrust and clear lines characteristic of so much of pre–World
War ii conceptualism at its best are now less prominent, and frayed
edges and convoluted arguments more in evidence. And there has
been variety from the outset. While the modern conceptual approach
is most directly identified with Reb Hayyim, it should by no means
be confined to Brisk and its direct spiritual progeny. Rav Shimon
Shkop, with a quasi-philosophic jurisprudential bent, has already
been cited, and his disciple, Rav Gustman, might be mentioned in
the same breath. Or again, while the imprint of the conceptual tra-
dition is clearly perceptible in the comprehensive treasure trove of
Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach ‫ – זצ״ל‬particularly in his remarkable
sefarim on Zera’im – he was certainly no orthodox Brisker. And, of
course, the Hazon Ish pointed in a different direction entirely.
Nevertheless, despite these changes, it remains a striking fact
that over the past century, the approach and the content of con-
ceptualism have remained remarkably stable. The key-rings have
not become rusty. While vitality may have been sapped, the basic
perspective and the fundamental ideas are very much with us. They
have seeped into the learning and teaching of Gemara at advanced
levels, and thereby invigorated the yeshiva world; and it is even
arguable that the method has had an impact upon the realms of
mahshavah and Tanakh, as reflected in the writings of the Rav and
mori ve-rabbi, Rav Hutner, or of Rav Mordechai Breuer. What the
future holds – and I have been asked to relate to this – I am reluctant
to predict. I have long since forsworn prognostication and admit to
entertaining reservations about peers who have not. Nevertheless, I
recognize the value, particularly for educational planning, of some
kinds of projections. So I shall conclude with some qualified remarks
about our subsequent methodological direction, in no small measure
extrapolating from present portents for this purpose. I presume that

the wish, to some extent, may be father to some thoughts; but I trust
that my own admitted inclinations will not distort my perceptions.
I believe that the conceptual approach will continue, for the
foreseeable future, to be a dominant force in the world of serious
Torah learning. However, I also believe that its status will recede
somewhat. And this, in several respects. First, the method itself is
likely to be modified. Instead of pure distilled Brisk, we are likely to
see more blended models – hopefully enriched rather than adulter-
ated, but diluted nonetheless. Pure Brisker, who hang on to every
scrap of the tradition, and perhaps on to little else, will continue to
learn and possibly thrive, but their position will be less prominent.
Trends previously cited will, in all likelihood, continue and possibly
accelerate. We can anticipate greater awareness of factual points
and recourse to a wider arc of sources. Moreover, the latter may be
accompanied by thematic expansion. Classical Brisk tends to focus
upon a narrow band of central shittot in any sugya – generally those
that make the most logical sense or whose analysis poses the great-
est challenge. In the spirit of elu ve-elu, however, the range can be
extended to include not only extant peripheral views, but also those
that inhere potentially, even if they have yet to be advanced. One
might explore definitions or constellations that could be reasonably
entertained on general grounds, analyze them, and examine whether
and to what extent they conform with the textual and conceptual
data relevant to a term or a topic.
Finally, the conceptual approach is likely to encounter greater
competition than heretofore. Some of the initial momentum hav-
ing been spent, and the derekh having become conventional, and
in some cases even cliché-ridden, the danger of lapsing into what
I.A. Richards called “stock responses” looms large; and these factors
may erode the preeminence of the approach. This may be further
affected by external developments. As we have seen, the focus of
conceptualism is lehavin u-le-haskil. It aims to engage the aspiring
lamdan in the sacred task of probing and mastering devar Hashem.
Per se, it relates to the content of Torah, its “what” and juridic “why,”
but not to a spiritual and philosophic “why.” Major figures in the
Brisker tradition may, of course, choose to undertake this task, and

in doing so draw upon its central halakhic corpus. But this is not an
indispensable component. Reb Moshe eschewed this task, whereas
his sons pursued it vigorously. Those who feel an existential need for
learning that is not only ultimately relevant but immediately, and
often shallowly, so, may find themselves disaffected by conceptual-
ism and seek more appealing alternatives.
This factor verges upon the interface of methodology and
education. Reb Hayyim did not need to “sell” Torah. He taught it to
eager and overawed talmidim. The motivation of a captivated audi-
ence was taken for granted, and all his energies could be poured into
learning. Educators today, by contrast, devote much, if not most, of
their energy precisely to the area of motivation. In Israel especially,
there has been much talk recently, within the dati-le’umi community,
of the flagging interest in Gemara. Many young people, looking for
instant spiritual gratification (sometimes with the encouragement
of some of their elders), feel they must be “connected” to what they
learn, and they may have difficulty in linking with havayot de-Ab-
baye ve-Rava. In this climate, the prospect that some educators will
look toward a more existential derekh, less demanding in every sense
than the Brisker, is a real possibility.
Educational considerations are important, and need to be
viewed with an open mind and a sensitive heart. Certainly, ‫חנוך‬
‫לנער על פי דרכו‬, properly understood and implemented, must be our
polestar. Nonetheless, we must beware the easy temptation of a
modish search for easier options. Whatever our educational course,
however, we must be certain that for ourselves – deeply committed
to talmud Torah and searching for the best means of realizing it – we
not lose sight of the significance of our methodological choice. I
firmly believe that for most, the quest for quality learning, in depth,
will continue to be best served by the conceptual approach. There
may be complements, but for the time being, no substitute. Speaking
not only out of loyal allegiance but out of considered judgment, I
conclude with the conviction that the conceptual approach remains
the optimal mode of attaining the twin goals of lehavin u-le-haskil
and lehagdil Torah u-le-ha’adirah.

Notes
1. Yoma 4b.
2. Eruvin 54b.
3. Sanhedrin 26b.
4. See Sukkah 28b, Ta’anit 10b.
5. The largest single body of sifrei Halakhah is, of course, that of she’elot u-teshuvot. I
have omitted reference to it here, however, because of its great variety.
6. Berakhot 11b.
7. Talmud Torah 1:11.
8. See Rosh Hashanah 16b and Rambam, Talmud Torah 5:7.
9. See Berakhot 15a and Rambam, Tefillin 4:26.
10. For various sources, see Sukkah 2a–3a.
11. A permanent residence is invalid as a sukkah, even if it meets all the technical
specifications. See Rashi, Sukkah 8b, s.v. penimit, and 14a, s.v. R. Meir.
12. See Sukkah 4a and Hiddushei Maran Riz ha-Levi, 9a.
13. See Sukkah 6b. This question may lie at the heart of the mahloket between R. Shimon
and Rabbanan as to the number of walls required; or, alternatively, may depend
upon the source from which R. Shimon derived his view that the minimum is three
plus part of a fourth.
14. No mention is made, for instance, of a minimal area; see, in contrast, Rambam,
Sukkah 4:1.
15. This inclination is often manifested even with respect to phenomena, such as
minhagim, that presumably have some historical grass-roots origins and need not
be attributed to a formal legal mold. For instance, the Rav consistently sought to
refer the various levels of avelut obtaining during the period of sefirat ha-omer to
halakhic categories. Although he recognized that they had developed over time and
due to assorted national tragedies, he preferred to integrate them, as far as possible,
into a coherent whole rather than regard them as an accumulation of random ele-
ments. This approach rests, apart from its general conceptualist proclivities, upon
certain assumptions regarding communal religious development; and these are not
always readily tenable.
16. See Bava Batra 5a–b.
17. See Bava Kamma 15a.
18. It is conceivable, however, that the status of keren, in this connection, differs from
that of other avot nizkei mamon.
19. Yerushalmi, Terumot 3:1.
20. Hiddushei Ha-Ramban, Hullin 42a.
21. In Ish Ha-Halakhah, the Rav emphasizes, to the contrary, the halakhic tendency
to quantify, which he views as being in line with modern scientific tendencies, as
opposed to the qualitative character of Aristotelian physics. There is, however, no
contradiction. The passage in question deals with the nature of the system per se,
whereas I am here concerned with the mode of its interpretation.

22. See Kiddushin 26a, Rashi, s.v. ba-havilei, and Tosafot, s.v. i nami.
23. The approach does very often cherish viewing two phenomena as different grada-
tions along the same continuum, rather than as simply disjunct parallel tracks. This,
however, obtains in situations in which the gradations are conceptual – being, in
effect, two levels or two definitions of the same term – but not where the levels are
purely practical.
24. Bava Batra 75b. On this view, one might conceivably differentiate between the shi’ur
required for acquisition and that required for a shomer or a gazlan.
25. Bava Kamma 20a; cf. 24b and 32a.
26. Shabbat 123a. See Tosafot, s.v. midi dele-inyan; and cf. Shabbat 49b, Tosafot, s.v. lo,
and Zevahim 93b, Tosafot, s.v. minayin.
The precise substance of Abbaye’s rejoinder (and, possibly, of Rava’s response)
is not clear from Abbaye’s formulation. Is he distinguishing between two kinds
of kelim, keli ma’asseh and an ordinary keli; or does he hold that muktzah does
not depend upon designation as a keli at all, but simply upon being fit for any use,
regardless of the label?
27. See Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 2nd ed. (Chicago, 1970),
chaps. 6–9.
28. See Shevuot 42b and Bava Metzi’a 56a.
29. To’en ve-Nit’an 5:2.
30. See Shevuot 44b.
31. See Mekhirah 13:15.
32. Hiddushei Rabbenu Hayyim Halevi, To’en ve-Nit’an 5:2.
33. Pesahim 59b, Kiddushin 68a, Niddah 33a.
34. Tosafot Talmid Rabbenu Tam ve-Rabbi Eliezer, in Shittat Ha-Kadmonim al Massekhet
Bava Kama, ed. Y. Blau (New York, 1976), p. 55.
35. Divrei Hagut ve-Ha’arakhah (Jerusalem, 1981), p. 83. Strikingly, two pages later,
the Rav writes: ‫ הוא אינו שמח בתירוץ ואינו‬.‫אין איש ההלכה משתדל לתרץ את כל הקושיות‬
‫ כשמבינים את הקושי וההסתבכות שלא ניתן‬.‫ תפקידו של האדם להבין‬.‫מצטער על הקושיא‬
‫להסר – דיינו‬
36. This has educational implications, particularly with respect to emphases, overt
or subliminal, concerning retention. I presume that I am not the only one who
repeatedly finds that he has forgotten much of the woof and warp of a particular
sugya, but remembers the operative principles in light of which it was examined,
and then uses them to reconstruct it.
37. See Sukkah 19a, s.v. lo. This is the prevalent view, as opposed to Rashi’s, ad loc. Reb
Hayyim’s proof was cited in his name, orally, by the Rav.
38. Rav Yosef Baer Soloveitchik (of Jerusalem) told me that he once remarked to his
father about the qualitative difference between the eye-opening character of Reb
Hayyim’s hibbur and the relatively conventional nature of the Bet Ha-Levi. Reb
Velvel, eager to protect his grandfather’s honor, responded heartily: “Listen, Berel,
the zayde could have written a sefer just like father’s; but he didn’t want to.” But the
facts speak for themselves.

39. Sefer Marheshet (Vilna, 1931). While an element of critique is clearly perceptible
(‫ חדשים מקרוב באו‬does not have favorable associations), it is fairly mild, as it appears
as part of a hope and prayer that, despite its not being currently in mode, his work
will be appreciated – and all this within a context of acknowledgment of method-
ological pluralism. Incidentally, during his sojourn in Vilna, the Rav established
a personal relationship with R. Henoch Agus, and when the Marheshet appeared,
sent him a list of comments to which he later responded.
40. See Horayot 14a. Some contend (I have heard the remark attributed to Rav Shlomo
Kluger) that this conclusion only applied as long as Torah she-Be’al Peh had not been
recorded. Now, however, the order is indeed to be reversed; a fortiori, one might
add, since the advent of a phalanx of reference works. This is matter for another
discussion, however.
41. See Sefer Ravan, ed. Rav S.Z. Ehrenreich, ii, 301b–305b.
42. See Sefer Ravyah, ed. A. Aptowitzer, i, 172–73, and the sources cited in the notes,
as well as the discussion as to whether the Ravyah or his father had written the
teshuvah.
43. See Or Zarua i:235, who also recounts how some Rishonim dealt with the issue in
practice.
44. Divrei Hagut ve-Ha’Arakhah, p. 80.
45. Table Talk of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, ed. Henry Morley (London, 1884), p. 102;
July 2, 1830.
46. See Bava Batra 176a and 128a, respectively.
47. See Daniel Sperber, “On the Legitimacy, or indeed, Necessity, of Scientific
Disciplines for True ‘Learning’ of the Talmud,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study
of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, n.j., 1996),
pp. 197–226. Compare Rav Avraham Eliyahu Kaplan, “Al Arikhat Perush la-Talmud
Bavli,” Be-Divrei Talmud i (Jerusalem, 5708), pp. 10–17.
48. See Rosh Hashanah 29b; Rif, Shabbat 1b (in the Alfasi’s pagination); and Ba’al Ha-
Ma’or, Ramban, and Ran, ad loc.
49. Teshuvah 3:8.
50. I trust I need hardly add that this license was not suggested for every neophyte. The
“one” in question is a halakhic master.
51. See Ish Ha-Halakhah: Galuy ve-Nistar (Jerusalem, 1979), esp. pp. 70–73 and 83 ff.
52. Bava Batra 175b. Interestingly, the opening qualification implies that there may be
other legitimate ends for learning – perhaps each with its preferred texts.
53. See Divrei Hagut ve-Ha’arakhah, pp. 75–82.

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The Conceptual

THE MICHAEL SCHARF PUBLICATION TRUST

To the average ben yeshivah, the very thought of a methodology of

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 1 13/12/2005 13:44:36

At the mere touch of cold philosophy?

It is exacerbated, however, by two disparate and yet complementary

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 2 13/12/2005 13:44:36

Would one expect an infant to suck by the book? A bridegroom

Rashi explains, as a possible interpretation:

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 3 13/12/2005 13:44:37

Nevertheless, the benefits of a modicum of planning are so self-

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 4 13/12/2005 13:44:37

Upon embarking on a discussion of the methodology of talmud

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 5 13/12/2005 13:44:37

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 6 13/12/2005 13:44:37

Bayit and Sefer Ha-Terumot, both models of lucid exposition, fusing

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 7 13/12/2005 13:44:38

matter, compare one thing to another, understand the prin-

Gemara, thus succinctly defined as a mode, is the heart of the

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 8 13/12/2005 13:44:38

of irreconcilable conflict, is determined to strive for resolution; and

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 9 13/12/2005 13:44:38

The process of definition entails recourse to a set of keys – some

Upon learning this mishnah, we shall obviously want to know the

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 10 13/12/2005 13:44:38

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 11 13/12/2005 13:44:39

than with reference to factual or technical factors.15 Typical is the

?‫דבר שאפשר לך לעמוד עליו חכמים חלוקים עליו‬

Similarly, the Ramban prefaces his hiddushim to the perek in

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 12 13/12/2005 13:44:39

as to whether an animal that has a terefah can survive more than a

However, as is made clear by the previous examples, with

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 13 13/12/2005 13:44:39

As to a ship, Rav said: Once one has performed the act of

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 14 13/12/2005 13:44:39

a legal question regarding the definition of deviation and just how

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 15 13/12/2005 13:44:40

ordinary lamdan. At its highest plane, however, the conceptual ap-

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 16 13/12/2005 13:44:40

such a needle is no longer subject to tum’ah, presumably because it

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 17 13/12/2005 13:44:40

reconciliation; and in this, as in many other respects, it typifies the

The conclusion refers us to a mishnah which states that the

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Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 19 13/12/2005 13:44:42

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 20 13/12/2005 13:44:43

On another plane, the same tendency is reflected in some of the

,‫שיטה זו של יצירת קונסרוקציות צרופות אינה מבחינה בין עיקר לטפל‬

I find myself only in partial agreement with the passage. In one

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 21 13/12/2005 13:44:43

respect, as I have already indicated and exemplified, even technical

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 22 13/12/2005 13:44:43

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 23 13/12/2005 13:44:44

contravention in others. This was valuable, but it only went so far.

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 24 13/12/2005 13:44:44

Some of the resistance, however, emanating from skeptics who

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 25 13/12/2005 13:44:44

expense of other goals. The conclusion of the debate in Horayot40 was

Conceptual r20 draft 5 balanced.indd 26 13/12/2005 13:44:44