A whale emerges when applying the metaphor of immersion to religious rights. It is an animal that lives submerged in the sea but to survive it needs to emerge to breathe, and when it does so it emits upward flows, almost signifying the need for further elevation towards the sky; sometimes it expresses itself with high dives, with which it tries to make itself visible to its peers, but inexorably it ends up submerging again, to live waiting for the next emersion. This contribution aims to express the specificity of religious laws through the image of a whale: social — and cultural — tools for managing conflicts that arise in the sea of daily life and which are however managed in the light of an immanence other than everyday life. The oxygen that allows religious laws to live is found elsewhere than the place where those conflicts take place. The rules move within a horizon of purpose that marks their specificity and makes them different from secular rights. The salus animarum, the exit from the cycle of reincarnations, the entrance into the Garden of Eden can only be achieved if one emerges, and if one jumps upwards. However, the tension towards emersions also affects secular laws, especially when these come to regulating ethically sensitive issues. Even in these cases, it seems that the rules need to be oriented away from the sea of life, towards the same horizon of ultimativity identified by religious laws. After all, both act in the same sea, inhabited by an infinite number of animals that breathe the same oxygen. Most of these animals do not need to emerge to breathe; instead, the enormous whales rise and fall, drawing a path of extraordinary agility. Perhaps they are the oldest sea beasts in the world: sea monsters in which the Bible contains the symbol of life beyond life. I will conclude my reflection with an open question: for what life is law useful?