Is there anything that a contemporary (post-) modern legal theory could or even should learn from the traditional Jewish concept of law? Before we can look for an answer to this question, we should reply to an obvious objection. Apparently, our question implies that there is “the” Jewish understanding in a problematic singular, which can then be compared to “the” Christian or Islamic concept of law. Thus, in contrast to some attempts to describe the complex idea of “monotheism,” with all its multiple genealogies, transitions and recursive conjunctions, these different religions are portrayed as sharply disconnected, unitary phenomena. Yet we do not intend such an essentialistic perspective. We will neither neglect the fact that one can find totally different conceptions within the Jewish tradition nor claim that our view represents the “actual” Jewish conception, i.e. the conception most adequate in terms of the Jewish belief—not even in the paradoxical form that states that “controversy among authorities” is “the central unit in the study of Jewish law.” Our interest is not one stemming from the concerns of religious studies, but one of legal theory. Hence, what we claim is just this: there is within the Jewish tradition a concept of law which so closely interrelates text and interpretation that it undermines the classical hermeneutic idea of an author and the meaning that he wants to give to his text. This particular understanding of the law focused on the process of reading demonstrates a remarkable resemblance to certain post-structuralist analyses of the connection between a text and its reading. Within the Jewish tradition, we will argue, the constitution of language and the understanding of law are closely interrelated.

Perhaps in part because Jews did not enjoy sovereignty for most of their history and thus rarely organized, much less directed, military institutions, the Jewish textual tradition says relatively little about the exercise of corporal punishment during warfare. This dearth of classical sources, however, does not mean that Judaism has nothing to offer contemporary deliberation about the ethics of torture. On the contrary, modern Jews plumb the textual tradition in search of prooftexts that ground their passionately held positions vis-à-vis torture. And this is precisely one of the methodological conundrums torture poses. In their search for corroborating principles, verses and halakhah (law) for their positions, Jewish scholars often gloss over countervailing values, texts and laws. Some trot out such broad principles as betzelem elohim (the notion that every human is made in the divine image), al tonu (do not oppress the stranger), or lagoyim (a light unto the nations), kavod habriot (respect creatures), chillul hashem (desecrating God's name), or lo ta ’amod al dam re ’echa (do not stand on your neighbor's blood) so as to condemn or condone torture without considering countervailing principles. Others point to certain laws, such as those pertaining to the rodef (stopping a pursuer who has lethal intent against another) or hora’at sha’ah (emergency exigency) to justify their positions on torture—without entertaining other relevant legal precedents. And a few others blandly state Judaism's position vis-à-vis torture without providing much or any evidence supporting those claims.

Abortion, along with same-sex unions, is perhaps one of the world's most polarizing issues today. Laws on abortion vary across different jurisdictions, from prohibiting abortion under all circumstances to freely allowing it without restriction as to reason. Unlike rights such as freedom from torture or of speech, failure to recognize abortion rights is not necessarily the product of illiberal governments known to abuse human rights, nor is allowing abortion indicative of a good human rights record. Extensive rights to terminate a pregnancy may be symptomatic of a government's policy for population control, as in the case of China, or it may be an expression of the liberal philosophy of autonomy, as in the case of Canada.

We live in an era of remarkable and wonderful technological advances. We also live in an era of tremendous economic, environmental and social upheaval. Given these circumstances, today's leaders must make decisions of overwhelming importance in a world that is changing rapidly.

In these confusing times, what values can our leaders look to as they try to address the many challenges that we face? Which values, if followed, are most likely to bring us the security and the happiness that we desire?

Those who came before us had to survive difficult times of their own, and their experiences shaped the ways in which they looked at the world. Each generation taught the next generation those perspectives and those strategies that had helped them be successful; and over the centuries and even millennia, this ancient wisdom became condensed into fundamental values. We may take it for granted, since our values are such an intrinsic part of our lifestyles, but one of the greatest gifts that our ancestors gave to us are these values—the collective wisdom of the ages.