Our parasha opens with a conditional phrase. “If you follow my laws…” you will merit abundance and blessing. If not, heaven forbid, then a curse will be imposed. We find that the establishment of conditions is a central element in the written Torah, with the primary example being Ve-haya im shamo’a (“If you obey the commandments…” Deuteronomy 11:13). There are many other examples throughout the Bible. After the Splitting of the Sea we find “If you will heed the LORD your God diligently…” (Exodus 15:26), and prior to Mt. Sinai “If you will obey Me faithfully and keep My covenant…” (Exodus 19:5). These are not the only ones.
The study of conditional sentences like these can be divided into two. One aspect is an investigation of when the use of conditions is appropriate, and the second is the nature of the condition and how it is applied.
Let us begin by understanding the various types of conditional statements. Ordinarily we distinguish between a condition that undoes an existing situation and a condition that sustains it, between a condition that is reasonable and one that is impossible. To understand these, we will present a selection of examples from the laws of Jewish divorce.
A destructive condition: “This is your divorce document on the condition that you never again enter your father’s house” (Tosefta Gittin 5:11). Here the condition acts to undo the divorce.
A sustaining condition: “This is your divorce document on the condition that you give me 200 zuz (ibid 5:10). In this case, the divorce is dependent on an act that will render it valid. If the woman pays the sum of money, the divorce document will take effect.
A ridiculous condition: “This is your divorce document on the condition that you fly in the air” or “…if you cross the Mediterranean Sea on foot” (ibid 5:12). In this case, the woman is asked to perform an impossible task, and we find that there is a dispute regarding the law. One the one hand, the condition cannot possibly be fulfilled, so we may say that the divorce cannot take effect; on the other hand, since at the time that the husband stated the condition he knew that it could not possibly be fulfilled, perhaps we can assume that it was said jokingly and it was not meant as a condition to be fulfilled.
A reasonable condition: “This is your divorce document on the condition that you do not enter your father’s house for the coming month.” Here the stated condition is clear, limited and possible to fulfill. We can assume that a condition limiting a woman from ever visiting her father’s house will be impossible to fulfill. But a limitation that can be fulfilled – even if it is difficult – which exists only for a short period of time, can be effective and the divorce is valid.
Based on this examination of conditional statements, we understand that the conditions presented at the beginning of our parasha are sustaining conditions. Our ongoing relationship with God in the Land of Israel is sustained by means of our observance of His commandments. We follow the path of Torah and God graciously grants us abundance.
The parasha also contains destructive conditions. If we do not uphold the condition, even though the relationship has been established, it will be brought to an end once the condition goes unfulfilled. We assume that the conditions are considered reasonable and possible to fulfill, and their requirements must meet general conditions of reasonableness. Perhaps this is why the Sages taught that a decree cannot be established if the community cannot abide by it. Similarly, application of the principle "its ways are of pleasantness" (Mishlei 3:17) is also related to this.
What is interesting about comparing the rules of conditional statements with the Torah’s position regarding the relationship between God and the Jewish people is that the commandments are not presented as gifts, but as demands and dictates.
When our children respond to a request by saying that they will do it on the condition that they are rewarded in some way, it is common to respond, “We only agree to conditions – tena’im – at a wedding.” On a day-to-day basis, we anticipate that our children will respond to our requests out of a sense of responsibility, without conditions. The occasion of a wedding, when two unconnected people are joining together to build a home, is different. That is a time for conditions.
These two people are entering into a long-term partnership and are standing at a moment when they are agreeing to regulate the external, proprietary and contractual framework between them. They are also setting a conceptual direction in which to develop their shared lives. As life moves forward, there will be no need to refresh the boundaries that were set. Assuming the partnership is a success, the calculated framework will disappear and be forgotten, and the couple’s life together will serve to pave a precise and balanced track, complicated but shared and supportive. Within the new system, the broad frameworks will not be forgotten, and clarity as to the precise roles of each partner will become clear over time. If either partner fails to live up to his or her role, it may lead to disappointment, but that failure is unlikely to undo the entire relationship. Sometimes even the initial conditions, which, at first, were understood as important guidelines, change in the course of their lives, together with changing realities.
Aside from weddings, other occasions when legal systems are applied are when it is necessary to build or dismantle a relationship, like when entering or leaving an agreement. In ordinary life, however, they rarely play a role.
Judging from the recurring conditional motif in our parasha, the Written Torah functions like a ketuba that is written when a couple gets married. The Written Torah is a foundational document whose function is to hang on the wall, to remind us of the early days of the engagement. In the end, the Oral Torah replaces the Written Torah. It is on the basis of the ketuba that regulations are added – fences, precise definitions of additional loving interactions. Things that strengthen the bond and offer opportunities for reciprocal giving.
Perhaps this is why our parasha opens with the conditional statement “If you follow my laws…” but continues with “If you despise my laws…”. The negative condition does not parallel the positive one. Were they parallel, the negative condition should have been “If you do not follow my laws.” In truth, choosing to follow the commandments signifies entering a relationship, while choosing to reject them indicates a desire to undo that relationship with the claim, “I find my partner repulsive.” This is not a description of a shared home that contains falsehoods, mistakes and deviations from the original agreement, but rather disgust with the very essence of the relationship. It marks the end of the common bond and introduces the possibility of divorce, which remains a distant possibility. But just as in cases of divorce, the memory of the common bond remains in the background. That, itself, is still a connection of sorts. There is no absolute release; on the contrary, love is replaced by resentment.
God's ways in the world are many and varied. On a recent trip abroad, I was reminded yet again of God’s unbounded influence. I saw vast lands, mountains and valleys, seas and lakes, rivers and streams. There were natural wonders and sands in rainbow colors. Given the existence of these phenomena, the magnitude of the gift of life that we received from God becomes clear, and so, the magnitude of our responsibility to maintain our side in the conditional obligations.
