Idiomatic Antithesis & Law vs. Spirit

 

Have you ever heard of an idiomatic antithesis?

It is when one obeys the letter of the law but not the spirit. At times, one can obey the literal interpretation of the words or “letter of the law,” but not the intent of those who wrote the law. Conversely, when one obeys the spirit of the law but not the letter, one is doing what the authors of the law intended, though not adhering to the literal wording. This is a bit of a challenge in any legal system. 

Interpretation of the U.S. Constitution has historically been divided on the "Letter v. Spirit" debate. For example, after America’s founding, the Federalist Party argued for a looser interpretation of the Constitution, granting Congress broad powers in keeping with the spirit of some founders. They gave credence to the “spirit of the law” approach. In contrast, the Democratic-Republicans, who favored a limited federal government, argued for the strict interpretation of the Constitution, claiming that the federal government was granted only those powers enumerated in the Constitution and nothing not explicitly stated. They represented the "letter" interpretation. 

Today, Living Constitution scholars advocate a "spirit"-esque interpretative strategy, although one grounded in a spirit that reflects broad powers. Originalist or Textualists advocate a more "letter"-based approach, arguing that the Amendment process of the Constitution necessarily forecloses broader interpretations that can be accomplished simply by passing an amendment. 

It goes without saying that Judaism grapples with this issue as well. 

Rabbi Leibele Eiger of Lublin was the brilliant son of Rabbi Shlomo Eiger and grandson of the famed Rabbi Akiva Eiger. He veered, however, from the path of his fathers and went “off the derech.” He did not leave behind his observance. Even worse, he became a Chasid! This was a time when the ban against Chasidim was very much a reality, and Rabbi Shlomo Eiger, it is said, went so far as to sit shiva for his son.

R. Leibele Eiger was a mohel in Lublin. His practice was to engage in intense meditative practices for many hours before a circumcision, effectively delaying the ceremony until the afternoon. Some residents of his city complained about this, and R. Leibele felt it necessary to receive approval from a prominent rabbinic authority. Therefore, he wrote a letter to his cousin, Rabbi Shimon Sofer (son of the Chatam Sofer and also a grandson of Rabbi Akiva Eiger), asking for his approval. R. Shimon tried to maintain a careful balance between recognizing R. Leibele’s practice as valid while chiding him for his unconventional reasoning. In trying to balance the letter of the law and the spirit, he favored the letter.

This interesting exchange from the summer of 1865 highlights a tension in halakhah – the law versus the spirit. It is clear that Jewish law regulates every aspect of human endeavors. As mitzvot, these rules are commandments, obligations imposed upon us by God. They are, at the same time, our halakhah, our path to inspired and passionate Jewish living. What happens when the two seem to be in opposition?

This is an issue that comes up all the time for rabbis and parents, and it is a question we all wonder about at some point. Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein raises the question: What if we were asked to choose between mechanical normative observance and non-halakhic spiritual dynamism? He answers that “we would, as commanded beings, unhesitatingly, albeit regretfully, opt for the former. But does anyone imagine that the Ribbono shel Olam confront us with such a cruel choice?” Our goal is to combine both – “the conjunction of spiritualized halakhah and disciplined spirituality; the fusion which enables us to realize the poetry and prose of ideal Jewish existence.”

Here are the sentiments of a Jewish parent on the challenge of getting a teen to shul:

“I can't believe the answer is to force them at all costs and we think this will be a long term positive for their religious life. The goal of having long term ritual practice for the sake of it, without it being a positive, and hoping to perpetuate it, generation after generation, does not seem like a very lofty goal. I would rather have them daven at home and have some feeling about it. I would take that trade if it was a choice.”

Pretty tricky, no?

The law is essential; the spirit inspirational. The revelation at Sinai requires of us to navigate both. It is not necessarily easy, but it is our path. In our religious lives, we might follow Jewish laws and customs because we feel like we WANT to, or we might do so because we feel like we HAVE to. However, the ultimate level is when we WANT TO HAVE TO - that is, we appreciate the necessity and beauty of making a commitment. This is the total commitment and responsibility accepted at Sinai. It is unique, complex, wondrous, at times frustrating and maddening – and we wouldn’t want it any other way.