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cellioI gave this d'var torah the Shabbat before last, for parshat Pinchas (Numbers 25:10–30:1). For context, read chapter 25 from the beginning; the break between weekly portions is in the middle of the episode.
One of my favorite cartoons shows a man typing at a computer. A voice from off-screen asks "are you coming to bed?". "I can't," he answers; "this is important. Someone is wrong on the Internet." The strip is titled "Duty Calls".
We all know people like that, right? People who are so attached to a cause, an idea, that they can't pass up an opportunity to advance it. Sometimes they sound kind of crazy and rabid and we shrug them off -- that's just how Uncle Ted is; don't take him seriously. Sometimes they sound persuasive and we risk getting sucked in; this is how cults operate. Sometimes they're pursuing righteous causes and we should get sucked in. Do we know the difference? Because that's the danger and the power of zeal.
When we let zeal drive our actions, we give up self-control, rational analysis, filtering. Zeal doesn't see nuance; it sees absolute right and wrong, and it is compelled to act. Zeal declares that Israel is always wrong -- or always right -- in encounters with Palestinians, without distinguishing between Hamas terrorists wielding bombs and vocal protestors wielding fists. Zeal declares that a white police officer is always wrong -- or always right -- if a non-white suspect is harmed, without distinguishing between those peacefully complying in a traffic stop and those fleeing the scene of a shooting.1 Zeal entices right and left, Jew and gentile, citizen and immigrant, black and white and brown and everybody else.
Zeal isn't proportionate. Zeal trains children to die in jihad instead of growing to adulthood and productive lives, or drives national leaders to use children as pawns in immigration policy. Damage to the hated other is more important than living as decent human beings.
Zeal isn't introspective. A zealot protests against a company that chooses not to hire expensive union labor,1 but chooses the low bidder for his new roof and wears clothes made in China. A zealot doesn't see that as contradictory. Zeal means more chanted slogans, Facebook likes, and echo chambers, and fewer thoughtful conversations.
One of our greatest prophets was done in by zeal. (This might not be the traditional interpretation, but it's how I read the text.) After Eliyahu defeats the prophets of Ba'al on Mount Carmel he flees, and with the help of divine messengers he finds his way to the mountain of God. God asks him "what are you doing here?", and Eliyahu answers that he has been zealous for God but the people won't listen and have slain all the prophets and he is the last one. God then presents some overwhelming shows of force -- but God was not in the roaring wind, or the earthquake, or the fire; God was in the still small voice. And after this God asks again, "what are you doing here?" and Eliyahu replies with the exact same words -- I have been zealous for God but they have slain all the prophets and I am the last. Even the direct presence of God was not enough to break through Eliyahu's zeal. God fires Eliyahu after failing to get through to him.
In this week's parsha Pinchas is, disturbingly, rewarded for his violent zeal. He reacted in the moment, seeing flagrant disregard for God's laws, and he acted violently and decisively. How is this any less terrible than a zealot who murders a doctor for performing abortions or assassinates a police officer or prime minister whose policies he doesn't like? Who gave the zealot the right to act outside the law?! The rabbis are very reluctant to let Pinchas stand as a good example; they say this reward was only for that one person that one time, and only because Zimri and Cozbi's act threatened the whole community, risking more communal divine punishment.
Zeal doesn't have to be 100% bad, though. Zeal, like the yetzer hara (the evil inclination), is in some ways necessary, providing drive and perseverance to bring about change.2 But we have to channel it, keep it under tight control. When we feel ourselves getting caught up in a strong, driving cause, we need to stop and ask ourselves some questions. Whose interests am I serving? Am I standing up for victims and the disadvantaged, or am I using them as an excuse? Am I driven by justice and compassion, or by rage and hate? Could I explain my actions to somebody who isn't also part of it? Would my spouse, my grandmother, my boss, my rabbi be proud of me or horrified, and how do I feel about that? Am I happy with the company I'm keeping and ok with being on the front page with them? How do I see my role in this -- would I rather be home watching Netflix but this needs to be done, or am I enjoying this, maybe power-tripping a little as part of a protest mob or while typing furiously into Twitter?
Zeal works against reason, but that doesn't mean we can't bring reason to bear on zeal. If we think first, work out what's really important, and then put our hearts and minds and souls into it, we have the power to make a positive difference, even zealously. But when zeal drives us to act strongly and irrevocably in the moment, to take life-altering action reflexively, we need to be very careful, as we wish Pinchas had been.
1 Local news references.
2 There is a talmudic story (known to the people I was speaking to) about a time when people captured and subdued the (personified) yetzer hara. There was no longer any evil inclination -- and no birds laid eggs, nobody built houses or planted a vineyard, nobody got married. It turned out the yetzer hara was doing something beneficial.
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Date: 2018-07-19 11:36 am (UTC)Also, if you ever want to give a D'var Torah at my minyan, let me know. :-)