From Yeshayahu Leibowitz, "Religious Praxis: The Meaning of Halakhah" (1953)
...Most characteristic of the Halakhah is its lack of pathos. The Halakhah does not depend upon the incidence of religious experience and attaches little importance to the psychic urges to perform extraordinary deeds. It strives to base the religious act, even in its highest manifestations, on the permanent habit of performing one's duty. "Greater is he who performs because he has been commanded than one who performs without having been commanded."[15]Precisely this nonpathetic attitude hides a depth of intense pathos. How unfounded is the imaginary antithesis of the inner religious experience and the formalism of the halakhic praxis, an antithesis so popular amongst the opponents of the religion of Halakhah!
Two types of religiosity may be discerned: one founded in values and beliefs from which follow requirements of action, the other posited on imperatives of action, the observance of which entails values and intention. The religion of values and beliefs is an endowing religion - a means of satisfying man's spiritual needs and of assuaging his mental conflicts. Its end is man, and God offers his services to man. A person committed to such a religion is a redeemed man. A religion of Mitzvoth is a demanding religion. It imposes obligations and tasks and makes of man an instrument for the realization of an end which transcends man. The satisfactions it offers are those deriving from the performance of one's duty...From such a standpoint, the question "what does religion offer to me?" must be completely dismissed. The only proper question is: "what am I obligated to offer for the sake of religion?"
In stark contrast to the Jewish religion, oriented as it is to the realities of human existence, stand religions which claim to offer the means of extricating man from the human condition and transporting him spiritually to a state governed by other categories of merit and obligation, of tasks and attainments. The Christian who believes in the event of the year 33 and has faith in it is redeemed; the very elements of his nature are altered. Among other things, he is liberated from the bondage of "the Law." Halakhic Judaism does not recognize such a redemption. The project it sets for man is permanent and endless. No religious attainment may be considered final; the project is never completed. Observance of the Torah in its entirety is merely the training of man for continuation of its observance. No religious achievement can change the human condition or the task.
...Most characteristic of the Halakhah is its lack of pathos. The Halakhah does not depend upon the incidence of religious experience and attaches little importance to the psychic urges to perform extraordinary deeds. It strives to base the religious act, even in its highest manifestations, on the permanent habit of performing one's duty. "Greater is he who performs because he has been commanded than one who performs without having been commanded."[15]Precisely this nonpathetic attitude hides a depth of intense pathos. How unfounded is the imaginary antithesis of the inner religious experience and the formalism of the halakhic praxis, an antithesis so popular amongst the opponents of the religion of Halakhah!
Two types of religiosity may be discerned: one founded in values and beliefs from which follow requirements of action, the other posited on imperatives of action, the observance of which entails values and intention. The religion of values and beliefs is an endowing religion - a means of satisfying man's spiritual needs and of assuaging his mental conflicts. Its end is man, and God offers his services to man. A person committed to such a religion is a redeemed man. A religion of Mitzvoth is a demanding religion. It imposes obligations and tasks and makes of man an instrument for the realization of an end which transcends man. The satisfactions it offers are those deriving from the performance of one's duty...From such a standpoint, the question "what does religion offer to me?" must be completely dismissed. The only proper question is: "what am I obligated to offer for the sake of religion?"
In stark contrast to the Jewish religion, oriented as it is to the realities of human existence, stand religions which claim to offer the means of extricating man from the human condition and transporting him spiritually to a state governed by other categories of merit and obligation, of tasks and attainments. The Christian who believes in the event of the year 33 and has faith in it is redeemed; the very elements of his nature are altered. Among other things, he is liberated from the bondage of "the Law." Halakhic Judaism does not recognize such a redemption. The project it sets for man is permanent and endless. No religious attainment may be considered final; the project is never completed. Observance of the Torah in its entirety is merely the training of man for continuation of its observance. No religious achievement can change the human condition or the task.
From Emmanuel Levinas, "A Religion for Adults" (1961)
...Then role played by ethics in the religious relation allows us to understand the meaning of Jewish universalism. A truth is universal when it applies to every reasonable being. A religion is universal when it is open to all. In this sense, the Judaism that links the Divine to the moral has always aspired to be universal. But the revelation of morality, which discovers a human society, also discovers the place of election, which, in this universal society, returns to the person who receives this revelation. This election is made up not of privileges but of responsibilities. It is a nobility based not on royalties [droit d’auteur] or a birthright [droit d’aînesse] conferred by a divine caprice, but on the position of each human I [moi]. Each one, as an ‘I,’ is separate from all the others to whom the moral duty is due. The basic intuition of the majority perhaps consists in perceiving that I am not the equal of the Other. This applies in the very strict sense: I see myself obligated with respect to the Other; consequently I am infinitely more demanding of myself than of others. ‘The more just I am, the more harshly I am judged,’ states one talmudic text. From then on, there is no moral awareness that is not an awareness of this exceptional position, an awareness of being chosen. Reciprocity is a structure founded on an original inequality. For equality to make its entry into the world, beings must be able to demand more of themselves than of the Other, feel responsibilities on which the fate of humanity hangs, and in this sense pose themselves problems outside humanity. This ‘position outside nations,’ of which the Pentateuch speaks, is realized in the concept of Israel and its particularism. It is a particularism that conditions universality, and it is a moral category rather than a historical fact to do with Israel, even if the historical Israel has in fact been faithful to the concept of Israel and, on the subject of morality, felt responsibilities and obligations which it demands from no one, but which sustain the world. According to one apologue in the Talmud, only on the spot where a chosen society worships can the salvation of a humanity come about. The destruction of the Temple compromised the economy of the world. And rabbi Meir, one of the chief Doctors of the Law, has ventured to say that a pagan who knows the Torah is the equal of the High Priest. This indicates the degree to which the notion of Israel can be separated, in the Talmud, from any historical, national, local, or racial notion.
...Then role played by ethics in the religious relation allows us to understand the meaning of Jewish universalism. A truth is universal when it applies to every reasonable being. A religion is universal when it is open to all. In this sense, the Judaism that links the Divine to the moral has always aspired to be universal. But the revelation of morality, which discovers a human society, also discovers the place of election, which, in this universal society, returns to the person who receives this revelation. This election is made up not of privileges but of responsibilities. It is a nobility based not on royalties [droit d’auteur] or a birthright [droit d’aînesse] conferred by a divine caprice, but on the position of each human I [moi]. Each one, as an ‘I,’ is separate from all the others to whom the moral duty is due. The basic intuition of the majority perhaps consists in perceiving that I am not the equal of the Other. This applies in the very strict sense: I see myself obligated with respect to the Other; consequently I am infinitely more demanding of myself than of others. ‘The more just I am, the more harshly I am judged,’ states one talmudic text. From then on, there is no moral awareness that is not an awareness of this exceptional position, an awareness of being chosen. Reciprocity is a structure founded on an original inequality. For equality to make its entry into the world, beings must be able to demand more of themselves than of the Other, feel responsibilities on which the fate of humanity hangs, and in this sense pose themselves problems outside humanity. This ‘position outside nations,’ of which the Pentateuch speaks, is realized in the concept of Israel and its particularism. It is a particularism that conditions universality, and it is a moral category rather than a historical fact to do with Israel, even if the historical Israel has in fact been faithful to the concept of Israel and, on the subject of morality, felt responsibilities and obligations which it demands from no one, but which sustain the world. According to one apologue in the Talmud, only on the spot where a chosen society worships can the salvation of a humanity come about. The destruction of the Temple compromised the economy of the world. And rabbi Meir, one of the chief Doctors of the Law, has ventured to say that a pagan who knows the Torah is the equal of the High Priest. This indicates the degree to which the notion of Israel can be separated, in the Talmud, from any historical, national, local, or racial notion.