The Jewish people have entered upon their pilgrimage over the surface of the globe, to scatter the luminous seeds of pure worship of God and the ideal of exalted morality. From this moral pinnacle Steinheim beheld the past and the future of Judaism in the clearest light. All riddles were solved, all questions answered; the doctrines and history of Israel afforded satisfactory and comforting replies. The priestly mission of Israel was to be fulfilled through great sufferings; this saviour of the world was compelled to wear a crown of thorns, and to be humbled to the condition of a slave. Steinheim saw the past and the future of Israel as in a magic mirror, bright, clear, and rich in color. Only the present was puzzling to him. The estrangement of the sons of his people from their origin, their despair of themselves, their contempt for their teachings and descent, the daily recurring apostasies and desertion from the flag, appeared to him as omens of approaching downfall, as though the high priests of mankind were secularizing themselves, profaning their sanctity, exchanging their birthright for a mess of pottage. Such self-estrangement and self-debasement Steinheim desired to counteract. He therefore composed his "Songs of Obadiah in Exile," in which he worked out his system.

"Such times are dangerous, when oppression is lessened, but not altogether removed, or when freedom is near, but not completely attained. At these periods, to desert the customs of bygone ages is deemed meritorious and advantageous, while a desire for transitory benefits gives rise to indifference to the eternal. This is the time for real lamentation, when every folly is taken seriously, and every serious thing is considered folly; when mockery is in every mouth, and insolence and license in every heart, and when, by reason of satirical laughter, there is no time for serious matters."

Steinheim's muse severely rebuked the unthinking who seceded from the Jewish religion.

He wished, however, not only to reprove, but also to instruct and convince. He did not address himself to the prosperous, the contented, and the rich, but to "youth with its pains and its ardent longings, its ready sensibility to light and justice." To these he dedicated his book so fertile in thought, "Revelation according to the System of the Synagogue" (February, 1835). Gifted with a philosophical mind, Steinheim submitted the whole system of the law to a searching examination, regarding it as the highest consideration, as the "miracle of miracles," by which alone the restless inquiring human mind can arrive at contentment. Boldly he attempted to give an answer to the question: What is this highly-praised and deeply-scorned Judaism? All Jewish thinkers had been happy in proving that its fundamental principles agreed with the axioms of mental philosophy, or, at least, were not in contradiction to them. If man were left solely to the guidance of reason or of natural philosophy, he would find no clue for his moral actions in the labyrinth of contradictions and uncertainties. It is, therefore, concluded Steinheim, a poor compliment to a religion to say that it is in accord with reason; for the latter is Chronos consuming his own offspring; building up with one hand and destroying with the other. The only religion in accordance with reason is heathenism, or natural religion, in its various modifications—the heathenism which was the origin of so much mischief to morality, in which "robbers, thieves, adulterers, and sodomites found their finest examples in the highest beings." If Christianity renounces its joint origin with Judaism, the fashion since Schleiermacher and Hegel, it thereby sinks to the lowest depths of heathenism. Love and hatred, Ahriman and Ormuz, Christ and Satan, with all variations of the opposing principles, the eternal substance about which the two powers are ever contending, and inexorable necessity—these are the fundamental ideas of natural religion: man himself succumbs under the suffering inflicted by necessity:

"Through eternal, immovable, mighty laws
Must we all complete the circle of our existence."

"Like the gods, so are their priests and sages: like king, like herd."

In opposition to this sensual or perhaps refined heathenism comes Judaism with its totally different mode of thought. It sets up a personal God who is not identical with Nature, and is not divided into two principles: it recognizes a "Creatio ex nihilo," without an eternal substance. It lays stress upon free will, consequently upon man's responsibility for his moral actions. These truths and others have not been evolved by human reason, nor could they be so evolved; they had been revealed upon Sinai. Although they were alien to reason, yet they are so clear and convincing that it soon accepts them, displacing the contradictory phases of thought regarding the perplexing natural phenomena, whose laws reason cannot explain. Sinai, with its lightning-flashes, shed both light and warmth over the world, clearness of thought and moral purity. The synagogue forms a sharply defined antithesis both to mythological religion and the church. "Out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord out of Jerusalem": with inspired enthusiasm Steinheim subscribed to these prophetic, half-fulfilled words. When he had discovered, or thought he had discovered, the soul of Judaism, Steinheim became filled with ardent zeal, a striking phenomenon in a time of sober speculation. This love for Judaism so illumined his mind and facilitated his understanding of the past, that he even learned to value the activity and energy of the greatly despised rabbis.

In his "Revelation" Steinheim revealed many truths, or rather, he brought to light ancient truths which had been ignored or forgotten. No one either in his own or in the preceding age understood the fundamental principles of Judaism so thoroughly as he did, although several of his hypotheses and inferences cannot be completely established. He, however, made but a slight impression upon his contemporaries, although he set forth the grandeur of Judaism with almost prophetic inspiration, and in an attractive manner. Whence came his isolation? It arose from the fact that the life and actions of Steinheim did not accord with his thoughts and sentiments. In agreement with his words, he ought to have become intimately associated with the Synagogue which from ignorance "became daily more deserted," to have participated in its woes and ignominy, to have joined in the celebration of its days of festivity and sadness, and to have clothed himself with the pride of those who were externally slaves, but in their hearts freemen. But Steinheim did nothing of the kind: he kept himself aloof from the Jewish community and Jewish life. What he correctly recognized as the reason of the resistance to the doctrines of Judaism, "the simplicity and servile condition of its adherents," repelled even him.

"The name of the people, which has become its guardian, has degenerated into a by-word, and now it is demanded that a doctrine shall be accepted whose supporters are given up to hatred, contempt, and persecution."