Torah laws have the ability to activate forces beyond the comprehension of man

“And these are the laws that you shall place before them….” (Shemos 21:1)

Rashi says that the words “before them” allude to the fact that legal matters should be presented before a Jewish court and not before the courts of the nations of the world. This is true even if the law legislated by the secular court is identical to the Jewish court. One who brings his legal matters before a secular judge causes a chillul Hashem. Why? (Rabbi Yosef Kalatzky, Beyond Pshat)

My first and only experience in a beis din was years ago. Several fellow staff members and I were trying to receive our salaries from a company that folded. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was dreading the encounter and the necessity of such unpleasant proceedings.

While in the waiting room, across the hall, I had a glimpse of the dayanim in their long frocks, sitting in a semi-circle on a raised dais. Their faces looked somber, yet kind, and I was filled with a sense of awe. I had a sudden urge to run in there to tell them all my problems and commit to doing whatever they told me. These judges clearly understood the import of justice.

The Alter of Slabodka ztz”l explains that when one observes Torah laws because they were given to Moshe at Sinai, his observance connects to the spiritual system of the Torah as a whole.

However, if one were to observe these same laws for humanitarian reasons, there is no spiritual accomplishment. Therefore, if a Jew goes to secular court, although the outcome may be identical to Torah law, it’s as if he’s denying Hashem and the spiritual component of the Torah’s laws.

Spoiler alert: I never got a chance to speak with the dayanim. I subsequently went two more times to beis din, but the other party never showed up. We were then told that we now had the halachic right to sue in a secular court.

I left, weighted down with this responsibility and disappointed that I hadn’t had a chance to present my case to those exalted talmidei chachamim sitting up on that dais.

The Gemara in Yoma tells us that the Amidah (Shemoneh Esreh) was authored by the Anshei Knesses Hagedolah, which included “several prophets.” Reb Chaim Volozhin asks, “Why was it necessary to have prophets among the authors of the Amidah?”

He answers that because the prophets had a profound understanding of the spiritual infrastructure of existence, they were able to choose specific words and phrases in the Amidah that would activate the spiritual forces necessary to address all our needs. When one prays with those chosen words, he activates forces that are beyond his comprehension.

Reb Chaim (and the Mishnah Berurah) also state that even if one were to pray at the level of a child, his only kavanah the awareness that he is standing before the King, his words would still activate these spiritual forces, like one who has the loftiest understanding and intent.

Similarly, the Torah’s laws may seem to be identical in their meaning and application to secular laws. However, because they’re established as part of the Torah, they have the ability to activate forces beyond the comprehension of man.

I chose not to pursue the matter in a secular court. Unfortunately, I had previous experience there as well.

Years back, I accompanied relatives who needed help understanding the Hebrew proceedings in an Israeli court. They’d put down payment for an apartment, and the owner pocketed the money and then declared bankruptcy. Apparently, he owed money to every Tom, Dick, and Harry (or Reuven, Shimon, and Levi here in Israel), and was wanted for tax evasion as well. His entire estate was brought to court, and my relatives, needing to recover their investment, ended up there as well.

While the language in the courtroom and the beis din may have been the same, the atmosphere was so different. The brightly lit government office was presided over by a judge who looked like he could also moonlight as a taxi driver, black robe notwithstanding. There was procedure and even pomp, but everything was reduced to paperwork and policy. We represented a number and a case, but there was no personal connection. By the time we left, I felt like we’d been drained of identity.

Comparing the two courts, it was clear to me who was the winner. Case closed.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 831)