Two important consequences follow from this view. The first, which was discussed more thoroughly in the previous essay, has to do with our own moral education: If morality is fundamentally about results rather than rules, then the way we learn how to behave morally will more closely resemble the way other result-oriented skills are learned, through models of emulation rather than doctrine. Because morality is learned from the example of others, a significant part of transmitting morality to others consists in dedicating the totality of one’s life to the creation and implementation of a higher moral order, and thereby making oneself into a moral example.⁸

The second, which will be our main concern here, is that if morality is principally about results rather than intentions or adherence to rules, then the radical individualism upon which most modern ethical thought is based must be reconsidered. Since Kant, the question of whether an act is considered to be ethical in the view of most modern philosophers has turned on the quality of the autonomous decision of the individual actor: Whether it is taken in purity of intention, and according to the appropriate abstract principles of right. But the moment results, rather than intentions and principles, are the focus, it becomes evident that collectives are also the cause of good or ill effects in history. While it is obviously true that any collective is made up of individuals, it is also the case that the conditions created by the character of communities, peoples, and nations have an impact on people that is far more real and powerful than can be accounted for by looking purely at the deeds of individuals acting alone.⁹ If morality has to do with the establishment of a good society, then our moral thinking must take into account human behavior at the level of communities, alongside our consideration of the individual.

These consequences led Berkovits to conclude that if we are to hope for the moral advancement of mankind, such hope will rest not on the emergence of a new moral doctrine, but on a moral exemplar on the level of the human community. “For the deed to be effective,” he writes in God, Man and History, “it must not remain the act of an individual, but must become that of a community. The deed makes history if it is the materialization of the desire and will of a community of people joined together in a common cause…. Even the purely religious aspects of the Jewish deed are most intimately interwoven with community existence.”¹⁰ Man’s moral achievements are, more than anything else, the realities he creates on the interpersonal and collective level—that is, the quality of the community’s norms, and its success or failure in establishing a code of behavior, caring for the poor, and educating healthy and righteous individuals and families.

For this reason, Berkovits argues, Judaism has always understood its central mission to be the creation of an exemplary community, and not just exemplary individuals. Such a community dedicates its entire public existence, as well as the efforts of the individuals who live in it, towards a higher, divinely guided order. In the biblical view, the life of the Jews as a people is to play a central role in the establishment of human morality. Man’s improvement requires a living example. But “man” as we find him is not a detached individual, but part of a society, with its own distinct habits, values, and cultural dynamic. Not the education of holy individuals, but the existence of a holy people, constitutes Judaism’s central contribution to establishing morality in the world.

This understanding of Judaism finds expression throughout Berkovits’ writings. In his extensive works on Jewish law, for example, he argues that the law must be understood not just as a code for individual piety, but also as a system which seamlessly combines the devotional with the political, and is addressed to the life of the community no less than that of the individual. The Talmud is not merely an ethical code, but the constitutive document for a living people—“the most successful experiment in the history of national constitutions,” which alone “preserved a whole nation against the continuously stupid and wicked enmity of the entire world.”¹¹ Accordingly, Jewish law resembles far more closely the code of conduct governing a living community than the regimen for piety which is offered by most religions.

One example is Judaism’s approach to economic affairs. While the idea of individual property rights is deeply embedded in Jewish law and tradition—perhaps even constituting a fundamental element of the Jewish concept of man in the world—the halacha considered the proper functioning of the economy as a whole to be of decisive importance, justifying the enactment of a “market regulation” (takanat hashuk) which overrode the strict application of individual rights. Berkovits cites a ruling of the Mishna in a case in which goods are stolen and then sold to a third party. When the original owner confronts the purchaser, demanding that his belongings be returned, there emerges a clear conflict between individual rights and the economic good: If the concept of property rights were to be strictly applied, the original owner should be allowed to reclaim his property without having to compensate the buyer. The former had never given up his rights to the object, whereas the latter had incorrectly believed he was purchasing rights that the seller (i.e., the thief) never possessed in the first place. However, the rabbis ruled that while the original owner does have a right to the property, he may only exercise that right by compensating the buyer for the amount he paid for it. Berkovits cites a rabbinic explanation for this: “Since the buyer bought in the open market… if the original owner would not return to him the price he paid, no one would dare buy anything for fear that it was stolen. Thus, all business would come to a standstill.”¹² Such a regulation may seem perfectly ordinary when dealing with a system of laws intended for a living community. What is interesting, however, is the fact that Judaism is such a system: Not a faith alone, but a normative system which embraces the political and legal spheres—because one cannot understand the moral good without reference to a vision of a moral society.

This recognition of the collective, societal realm extends in Berkovits’ view even to the way Jews pray. In his 1962 monograph Prayer, Berkovits emphasizes the significance Judaism always attached to communal prayer, above and beyond the free expression of the individual. The very fact that Jewish prayer has traditionally been centered on the recital of obligatory texts is, in his view, a direct consequence of this approach. “Free prayer is always individual prayer, even when practiced in a congregational assembly…,” he writes. “Obligatory prayer, being independent of any contingent individual occasion, is based on the existential situation of the Jew in relationship to God. It is not the prayer of one Jew in one situation; it is the prayer for all Jews at all times. Therefore, even when prayed by an individual in solitude, it remains in its essence communal prayer.”¹³ For prayer to have meaning, it must be a true reflection of the Jewish community’s standing with respect to God. Individual prayer, though not without its place, is nonetheless “problematic because of the insufficiency of the subjective experience of the individual alone.”¹⁴ Though he does not deny the value of the words of an individual pouring out his heart to God, Berkovits argues that in focusing a person’s energies purely on self-expression, individual prayer “may amount to outright selfishness” and as such it can even become “unethical.” Berkovits cites numerous laws and principles from the Jewish tradition to support his claim—such as the idea that “the prayer of the community is never despised,” or the suggestion that if one has to pray alone, it is best to do so at the time when the community is praying.¹⁵ He concludes:

In an age so conscious of the “self,” Berkovits’ words strike an unusual note. Prayer is first a representation of the community’s relationship with God, and only secondarily a means of addressing the spiritual needs of the individual. Thus even the most intimate moment of contact between man and God is framed in the context of the larger community; it is the community that prays to God for redemption, just as it is the community that is ultimately redeemed. “Judaism’s concern,” he wrote in Unity in Judaism (1986), “is not primarily the salvation of individual souls but the comprehensive spiritual, socio-ethical, economic, and political reality of human existence. Thus Judaism is best characterized not as a religion, but as the covenantal civilization of a people.”¹⁷