The Power of Lenient: Playing It Safe Isn’t Always Pious and More Chulin 58-60

Chulin 58 — “The Power of Lenient: Why Playing It Safe Isn’t Always Pious”

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph references a famous Talmudic legal dictum: “Koach D’Heteirah Adif,” the power of leniency is considered legally and morally superior. That is, if it is at all possible, finding a legitimate leniency is admirable, and also a worthy motivator and object of study.

The Shalah (Aseres HaDibros, Shevuos, Ner Mitzvah) explains and expands on this idea beautifully. It is worth quoting him directly, as it reveals an important principle in Torah study. While there is a legitimate trend, and it is considered God fearing to be careful with prohibitions, and to take on extra stringencies, it is not always the only moral imperative. Being lenient is also a moral duty as well, which may be underestimated. The question is: When to seek leniency and when to be strict? Let us see what the Shalah says. Below is my translation and excerpted summary of his words, which speak for themselves and require no additional commentary:

“My children, if a halachic matter comes before you and you have merited to be a halachic decisor and teacher, be prudent and God fearing that you not mislead the multitude. Before you render your decision, make sure it is clear as daylight in your hearts. If there’s any shadow of a doubt, find precedent in the legal corpus to see it with clarity. If you still have doubts, do not be ashamed to confer with other learned people….”

“Regardless, do not be tempted to say, ‘I’ll play it safe and render a ruling on the more strict side.’ To be unnecessarily stringent upon others is not considered rendering a halachic decision. If you wish to be strict on yourself, that is your business, but not for others. We find it related about King David (Berachos 4a) that he took great pains to find ways to render a woman pure from the blood of Niddah and childbirth. It is notable that his aim was not neutral. It was specifically to find ways for her to be permitted. This shows that it is an admirable aim to look for leniency, obviously in a responsible way…”

“Furthermore, even if one wants to be strict regarding himself, this is only if after due diligence, there remains a legitimate doubt. However, if this doubt comes from intellectual laziness, it is not worthy of esteem. To the contrary, this is what we call foolish piety…This may be the deeper meaning to the Talmudic adage (Berachos 8a) ‘It is greater to benefit from one’s own hard work than even fear of heaven.’ At first glance, this statement does not make sense. Of course it is a good thing to work honestly and benefit from it. But why is it being stressed that it is greater than fear of heaven? They are two important aspects, while somewhat interrelated, they are not mutually exclusive. The Shalah says, it is speaking directly to the sage who is in doubt of a certain halacha. He might think it is meritorious to simply and reflexively play it safe and be strict, at least in regard to his own personal practice. Shalah says, this is not necessarily so. If he has the ability to investigate and study further and to render a reasonable ruling, even for himself, he should seek out leniency instead of defaulting to the strict side. This then explains the statement. Much better to benefit from one’s own hard work, meaning hard work in rendering the halachic decision with clarity, than reflexively choosing the superficially God-fearing choice of a stringent ruling.”

Chulin 59 — “Kindness to the Clan: The Chasidah’s Conditional Charity”

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses the signs of a non-kosher bird: “Any bird that claws its prey and eats it is non-kosher.”

Ramban (Vayikra 11:13) famously remarks that the quality of cruelty that is involved in being a bird of prey is what renders the animal non-kosher. Eating such animals will somehow transfer this quality into the soul, and therefore we must abstain.

Sefer Daf al Daf quotes a question on this Ramban. The Gemara (63a) discusses a particular non-kosher bird known as the Chasidah. This Chasidah’s name shares the Hebrew root of the word chessed, kindness. The Gemara explains: Why is it called ḥasida? Since it performs charity [ḥasidut] for its fellows, giving them from its own food.” However, this quality of kindness is the opposite of cruelty. Why then is this bird rendered not kosher? There are two answers given, each with moral lessons.

True, this bird does kindness. But only for its peers. In other words, it is a form of self-serving altruism. It is kind to its immediate neighbors in order to promote its overall safety and well-being. While practical and functional, it does not come from a universal love for all. It is closer to a tribal loyalty.

While this feature alone of familial loyalty is a value, as it is stated in Yeshaiyahu (58:7) “Do not hide from your own flesh,” i.e., make yourself available to take care of a family, this is still not the same as general kindness and love to all.

The second answer given is of a more homiletical nature. We are not praising this bird. Rather, we are accusing this bird of false piety, that is, it offers its friends “chassidus,” preaching and moralizing, when they actually need concrete help.

This is a challenge in human behavior. Sometimes we see a person in great distress, and indeed we have certain judgments, which may be accurate or not, about their moral character and how they wound up in this situation. We feel guilty and want to help them, but we also feel frustrated because we might know that their pattern is self-destructive or somehow they’re doing this to themselves. However, at the moment that they are in distress, it is poor timing to moralize. At that time, we just need to help. Later on, when they are out of distress, if we do believe that we can offer some feedback that’s constructive and help them in the future, that might be a good idea. But at the time of their distress when they need physical help, it’s important to give it if at all possible and not part of an enabling process. Even if we determine that helping them really is just enabling them (which may exempt us from helping as per Bava Metzia 32a and Kli Yakkar Shemos 23:5) and they are the kind of person who is in denial and refuses to help himself, so we may decline to help, still preaching and moralizing is cruel.

It is instructive to note what our sages said in regard to Iyov’s friends who ostensibly came to comfort him, but ended up preaching at him:

Bava Metzia (58b) warns: If torments afflict a person, if illnesses beset him, or if he buries his children, one may not speak to him as the friends of Iyov did, asserting that his sins brought about his fate. What did Iyov’s friends do wrong? Weren’t they simply following the teaching in Berachos (5a), as it states: “when a person experiences suffering, he should examine his actions to identify and correct any sins that may have brought it about.” The answer is, this is meant as a personal, introspective exercise – one of humility and self-reflection. While it is true that a person should engage in self-reflection, it is utterly inappropriate to say such things to someone who is suffering.

Chulin 60 — “The Moon’s Complaint and the Sin We Inherited”

Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses the strange and cryptic aggadah regarding the diminishment of the moon. As the story goes, at the dawn of creation, the moon slyly suggests to God that it does not make sense that two kings share the same crown. In other words, he was hinting that the sun and the moon together should not be equal, and between the lines lobbying that he should be the superior one. In response to this impudence, God shrank the moon, though the story records a give-and-take where the moon has certain claims afterwards, and God tries to appease the moon. Even more striking is the passage regarding the single sin offering goat brought on Rosh Chodesh. The Gemara reports that this is as if God Himself is bringing a sin offering for having shrunk the moon.

There are many interpretations to this Aggadah, but for today’s piece, I would like to focus on one aspect. Even if it is God who is bringing this offering, we must wonder why aren’t we the ones that offer it. How could it make sense that we should have to take responsibility for God’s sin?

The Chasam Sofer (Balak) discusses the sin from a broader spiritual perspective. The serpent enticed Chava with the argument that God Himself is withholding your access to the Tree of Knowledge because He does not want you to be like Him, on His level. This is similar to the Moon’s inner motivation, a state of jealousy and mistrust, assuming the powerful entity uses this power inappropriately to suppress the others. The Moon sought top position because it thought it would be taken advantage of by the superior entity. His paranoid outlook was a projection of his own tendencies and what he would do if he came into power, which is why he lost it.

Chasam Sofer asserts, a trend originates from a source. For example, we might say the mussar movement, chassidus, the enlightenment and modern psychology all stemmed from an awakening and development in society having to do with paying more attention to individual subjective states and emotional autonomy. In any case, Chasam Sofer says, the moon started the trend which somehow trickled down and enabled the serpent and Chava’s process. This is what God means by His “sin,” that somehow this negative trend was introduced to the world. Obviously, it is for some deeper reason that only God can know. But since it is subjectively negative, it is called a “sin.”

I will add, we bring the sin offering because we are complicit, since through Adam and Chava’s participation we bought into the trend and the mistrust. In truth, this approach can answer a bigger question. Why must all of mankind suffer for Adam’s sin? The answer might be the same. Somehow, in our consciousness we continue the trend. How can we know this? Perhaps the moment we stop this trend the Mashiach will come and paradise will be restored. (This approach and is alluded to in what the Rambam says in the Moreh Nevuchim (I:2). Actually, he hints at much, much more in that tiny, unobtrusive chapter, like he does throughout the Moreh, hiding things in plain sight. As he says he will do in his introduction. But that’s for another article.”