Similarly, Berkovits’ theological writings consistently emphasize the consequential side of prophetic morality. In the essays of Studies in Biblical Theology, not only are overtly moral terms such as righteousness (tzedek) and charity (tzedaka) understood to be addressing the actual achievement of good, as opposed to one’s intentions with respect to others; even terms which relate principally to the divine realm, such as the “spirit” of God or the notion of “holiness” (kedusha), are shown, convincingly, to refer to God’s actions or representation as they are reflected in their consequences within the historical world. Not surprisingly, this position is most vividly spelled out in Berkovits’ explanation of the biblical idea of “justice” (mishpat). Berkovits’ reading of the biblical text presents justice as concerned primarily with the bringing about of a just state of affairs, rather than possessing “just” intentions or adhering to “just” maxims; conversely, when justice is not done, it reflects not a violation of an absolute rule, but a betrayal of the actual widow, orphan, or oppressed, whose relative powerlessness has made them incapable of defending their righteousness.³⁹ Through a careful analysis of the biblical applications of the term mishpat and its cognates, Berkovits develops a larger understanding of justice built not on absolute ideals but on a divinely sanctioned notion of “an orderliness, an appropriateness, and a balanced relatedness of all things in nature without which life is not possible.” The prophetic demand for justice is thus understood as a call for the establishment of a just order within the world. Justice is, in Berkovits’ words, “an appropriateness, determined not by abstract consideration, but by the reality of man’s condition and subserving the meaningful preservation of human life…. Justice is done not that justice prevail, but that life prevail; it is done out of concern with a concrete situation, in which life is endangered and calls for its salvation.”⁴⁰ 

To understand the significance of Berkovits’ approach, it is instructive to contrast it with the powerful existentialist movement that had come to dominate Jewish philosophy by Berkovits’ time, and which continues to set the tone for much of Jewish philosophy today. Inspired by the iconoclastic thought of Soren Kierkegaard and Franz Rosenzweig, many Jewish thinkers in interwar Germany turned away from the abstract ideals which were the focus of earlier German thought and instead turned their attention to the examination of the individual consciousness, out of the belief that only through such an “empirical” approach could they achieve a reliable philosophical understanding. In discussing the religious experience, thinkers such as Martin Buber and Abraham Joshua Heschel employed the classical Jewish sources with the aim of studying the religious experience of the individual, such as prophecy or mystic ecstasy.⁴¹ When dealing with ethics, they tended to translate the moral teachings of the Jewish texts into an emphasis on “deeds”—ethical actions which derive their obligatory nature from one’s consciousness of God and of other people. However, while their appreciation for the concrete over the abstract brought them to an emphasis on actions, it is a natural result of their subjectivistic outlook that the “deed” was seen and judged primarily from the inside, as something which draws its importance and relevance principally from its place in the world of the acting subject: Either as a tool for the development of desirable qualities within the individual, or as part of a desirable pattern of individual living. The result is that while the existentialists paid greater attention to the importance of actions than did their German-idealist predecessors, they retained the latter’s rejection of consequences as a valid consideration in determining whether an action is moral. On the contrary, the weighing of consequences was understood to be a violation of the purity of intentions, which continued to be viewed as the essence of morality.

An extreme example of this position is found in Buber’s ethical writings. In a collection of his early essays entitled On Judaism, Buber argues that morality in Judaism, like ethics according to Kant, is predicated on the idea of “unconditionality”: That moral actions must be taken with the perfect intention of doing what is right, without regard for external consequence:

Deeds that are performed in “conditionality”—that is, with regard for their consequences—are in Buber’s mind impure, sullied in the “lowlands of causality.”⁴³ While actions certainly have consequences, these consequences are so intricately woven within the vast fabric of causality that man cannot hope to fathom them. However, when man purifies his intentions and ignores the conditions of the world, his actions “affect deeply the world’s destiny.”⁴⁴ It is the goal of the Jew, therefore, to work to purify his intentions, so that he may perform that which is right purely because it is so. A similar position is offered in Buber’s 1952 essay “Religion and Ethics,” where he defines ethics to mean

Similar sentiments are found in the writings of Abraham Joshua Heschel, despite his many differences with Buber. Like Buber, Heschel emphasizes the importance of ethical action taken in purity of intention as the focus of religious life. Heschel’s ethical vision is guided not by the careful weighing of consequences, but by an ideal of “piety” which focuses on intentions rather than results as the touchstone of moral validity. Piety is “the orientation of human inwardness toward the holy,” an orientation which is ahistorical, recognizing that “life takes place under wide horizons, horizons that range beyond the span of an individual life or even the life of a nation, of a generation or even of an era.”⁴⁶ Quoting the rabbinical dictum that “it matters not whether one does much or little, if only he directs his heart to heaven,”⁴⁷ Heschel describes what he believes to be the true end of good actions according to Judaism:

The significance of deeds, according to Heschel, is not in what they are capable of achieving in the outside world, but for the attainment of what he calls “spiritual ends”—that is, ends that relate to the spiritual state or level of the individual actor.⁴⁹ “The purpose of performance,” he writes in God in Search of Man, “is to transform the performer; the purpose of observance is to train us in achieving spiritual ends…. Ultimately, then, the goal of religious life is quality rather than quantity, not only what is done, but how it is done.”⁵⁰ Thus while Heschel does call for a “leap of action,” a decision to act that is more important than a leap of faith because it has a greater impact on one’s soul, the goal of such a leap is not the direct improvement of the state of things in the world, but to be “ushered into the presence of spiritual meaning. Through the ecstasy of deeds he [i.e., the Jew] learns to be certain of the hereness of God. Right living is a way to right thinking.”⁵¹

Berkovits also places a premium on “deeds,” yet it is clear that when he uses this term, he has something different in mind. While he agrees that actions have an invaluable impact upon character, for him the most important perspective from which to view deeds is from the “outside,” from a perspective that is historical and public rather than subjective and personal—and which therefore necessarily views consequences as essential. As he writes in God, Man, and History (1959):

To understand morality purely from within the framework of the individual psyche, Berkovits argues, is inadequate to the nature of the Jewish norm, which is focused primarily upon one’s relationship to “the world, a neighbor, or God.” This focus on the external means that deeds are not simply connected with the outside world, but entirely dependent on it “in order to be.” A deed that is not “effective,” that does not achieve desired consequences, is not morally significant.