Doing

Why do I do what I do?

I can think of lots of explanations. Of course I follow the law, although there are times when it doesn't make any sense. I'm hardly the first to point out the gap between the law and justice, but the law's the law. And until it's changed we're obliged to follow it, at least that's the rule. “Right” and “wrong” aren't the issues. Only what legislators have specified are our responsibilities – even if “our” representatives were rewarded by lobbyists for taking such positions.

Let me get out of the way at the outset the force enunciated by Freud – the superego. It is the conscience that we usually ascribe to parental brainwashing, and it's the force that opposes id, which could lead to anarchy. Id tells you to do whatever you want to do, but superego says “no.” It holds the taboos of family and society and, to a very great degree, controls what we don't do. But I'll deal with it later. In the meantime, let me deal with the external forces.

Secular law, and the precedents it follows, have been our guidelines for a long time. The “Social Contract” which was reformulated by Hobbes and Locke (long after Socrates accepted the authority of the state) suggests that people have ceded control to their governments in order to establish conditions under which they can survive. It was up to the state to protect us from oppressors, although there have been many instances of the state taking such a role for itself.

Allowing both secular and religious law, however, especially as imagined in the Age of Enlightenment, sets the stage for both cooperation and a conflict between the two. There is a concept in Jewish law of Dina de-Malkhuta Dina – the law of the land is the law. It is a talmudic principle that we are obliged to follow the secular law that is not in conflict with religious law. There's a long-standing tradition in Judaism to support secular authority. It's an early exposition of the Social Contract. From Avot:

Rabbi Chanina the deputy [High] Priest said: “Pray for the welfare of the government (lit., monarchy), for if not for its fear, a person would swallow his fellow live.”

And there were others – prophets – who conveyed the same message to a people exiled from their own land. But it has its limits in Torah law. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes in To Heal A Fractured World

The existence of a covenant with G-d means that all human sovereignty is delegated, conditional and constitutional. This gives rise to the principles of crimes against humanity and justified civil disobedience. If there is a conflict between the laws of humans and the law of G-d, the latter takes priority. This is the greatest single safeguard against tyranny, totalitarianism and the rule of might over right. It is also the principle that brought into being one of the great moral institutions of humankind: the prophet, the world's first social critic. The man or woman who “speaks truth to power” does so on the specific mandate of G-d himself.

He points out that our first loyalty is to G-d, but we have responsibilities in terms of the secular government where we live.

That certainly provides a background for my actions, but it doesn't really explain anything. The secular laws under which we live were written, and are written still, by people just like us, and our form of government is one in which there is a constant rewriting of statutes by other humans. Some of the laws are wise and should be followed – but, as Rabbi Sacks notes – not all.

And there is extensive debate concerning the authorship and authority of the different levels of religious law. Whether or not one accepts the idea of an original Divine origination, the copies that we have now, and certainly the commentaries, were human creations. Our traditions tell us that they are the will of G-d and that we should follow them, but it is easy to wonder about the authority of redacted, contradictory, and interpreted works conveyed to us by people like us.

Following them is clearly part of our tradition. Or, I should say, traditions. We follow the ways of our parents, our teachers, our shuls or our communities, our geographical areas and the strain of Judaism in which we were raised. But these are all the creations of humans who do things in certain ways, and they're not necessarily in agreement about how things should be done. And they're not necessarily good. Commenting on a musical interpretation. Toscanini said “Tradition is just the last bad performance.” Some attribute the assessment to Mahler, but whoever said it the view is clearly expressed that there can be problems with traditions – people make them, and people can disagree about them.

(To be continued)



December 21, 2016