Between Apathy and Zealotry

הנני נתן לו את־בריתי שלום והיתה לו ולזרעו אחריו ברית כהנת עולם תחת אשר קנא לאלהיו ויכפר על־בני ישראל

“I grant him My pact of peace. It shall be for him and his descendants after him a pact of priesthood for all time, because he took impassioned action for his God, thus making expiation for the Israelites.” Bamidbar 25:12-13

Parashat Pinchas confronts us with a profound question—not about religious fanaticism, as many suggest, but about the danger of unchecked tolerance. Pinchas kills Zimri and Cozbi for their brazen act of public sexual immorality before the Tent of Meeting, and this action halts a devastating plague. While much debate surrounds the nature of his zeal, the deeper issue raised is the value—and limits—of tolerance.

The philosopher Karl Popper famously articulated what he called “the paradox of tolerance”: “Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant . . . then the tolerant will be destroyed.”[1] Popper argued that a society committed to tolerance must paradoxically refuse to tolerate intolerance.

In an age where tolerance is often treated as the highest moral value, we must ask: Is it truly a virtue? Or has it become a disguise for apathy, confusion, or cowardice?

Defining the indefinable

What does it mean to be tolerant? Is it a sign of strength or indifference? Alexander Chase once wrote, “The peak of tolerance is most readily achieved by those who are not burdened by any convictions.”[2] And in a more humorous tone, poet Ogden Nash observed:

Sometimes with secret pride I sigh,
How tolerant am I!
Then wonder what is really mine:
Tolerance, or a rubber spine?[3]

Indeed, the concept of tolerance has grown so blurry that its meaning is often reduced to what we personally find comfortable. Why is it that a comedian can make jokes about the pope but not about gender identity? Are secular parents intolerant for not wanting their children to socialize with religious peers, or is that simply another form of personal conviction?

When does tolerance become dangerous permissiveness, and when does intolerance mask itself as moral integrity?

Judaism’s earliest heroes were not tolerant in the modern sense. Avraham, the founder of the Jewish people, did not quietly accept the idolatry and immorality of his time. Nor did prophets like Shmuel, Yeshayahu, or Yirmiyahu go along with prevailing norms for the sake of social harmony. They were zealots of conscience, unafraid to disturb the status quo. Many labeled them extremists or agitators, but history records them as moral pioneers.

John Henry Newman and the ethics of conscience

This tension between tolerance and personal conviction was also at the heart of a major controversy in Christian thought. John Henry Newman, a prominent nineteenth-century Anglican theologian, shocked many by converting to Catholicism. Critics argued that he could have done more to reconcile the two traditions had he remained Anglican.

Newman responded:

Certainly, if I am obliged to bring religion into after-dinner toasts . . . I shall drink—to the Pope, if you please—still to conscience first, and to the Pope afterwards.[4]

For Newman, compromise could not override conscience. To remain in a church he no longer believed in would be moral cowardice. Was he being intolerant of Anglicanism or profoundly open to a higher truth?

Pinchas and the problem of zealotry

Pinchas, too, acts on conscience. Seeing Zimri’s blatant sin, he takes the law into his own hands. The Torah reports that God halted the plague and rewarded him:

Therefore say: I hereby give him My covenant of peace. It shall be for him and his descendants after him a pact of eternal priesthood, because he was zealous for his God and made atonement for the Israelites. (Bamidbar 25:12–13)

Yet the Sages struggle with this story. The Mishnah (Sanhedrin 81b) permits zealotry in extreme cases—“Ha-bo’el aramit, kana’im pog’im bo,” “One who has relations with a gentile woman, zealots may strike him”—but immediately adds: “Halakhah ve-ein morin ken,” “It is the law, but it should not be taught.”

Pinchas’s act, though condoned after the fact, was not to become precedent. The rabbis understood that zeal, even for the sake of Heaven, must be contained.

Dissenting voices: Mei HaShiloach

Remarkably, Rabbi Mordechai Yosef Leiner of Ishbitz, in Mei HaShiloach, offers a radically different view. He argues that Pinchas was mistaken. According to Mei HaShiloach, Zimri and Cozbi were destined for one another since the creation of the world. Their union was, in fact, holy—similar to the seemingly illicit but Divinely ordained relationships of Yehudah and Tamar or of David and Batsheva, who became progenitors of the Mashiach.[5]

Pinchas, unaware of this Divine plan, acted precipitously. And had Zimri killed Pinchas in self-defense, he would not have been liable. This interpretation challenges the entire narrative and underscores the speculative nature of religious zeal.

Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, in Michtav Me-Eliyahu, echoes this theme by demonstrating how human sin can become part of Divine providence, especially in messianic history.[6]

Subjective tolerance and moral responsibility

So was Pinchas intolerant for acting? Or would it have been intolerant to let immorality desecrate the sanctuary of Israel? The answer is not clear.

What is certain is this: He did not remain indifferent. “The opposite of love”, said Elie Wiesel, “is not hate, it’s indifference.”[7] Pinchas took a stand when the nation, including Moshe, stood silent. He risked everything—including Divine wrath—for a moral conviction.

He may have erred. Or he may have acted with prophetic clarity. Either way, he chose a courageous act over comfort.

In a world increasingly dominated by apathy, moral relativism, and “rubber spines”, it may be better to have a few zealots—even flawed ones—than to drown in the indifference of the majority.

G. K. Chesterton once wrote, “The paradox of courage is that a man must be a little careless of his life even in order to keep it.”[8] To live with conviction is to live dangerously. But it may also be the only way to live meaningfully.

Questions to Ponder

1. This essay expresses the knife-edge of living between ideal and reality. Clearly, Rabbi Cardozo isn’t asking us to choose zealotry, but rather to question whether we still possess the courage to choose anything at all. Karl Popper warned that unlimited tolerance destroys itself. But how can a society decide where tolerance must end without becoming oppressive? Are there beliefs or actions that should never be tolerated, even at the cost of social peace? Can a society survive without shared moral red lines?
2. John Henry Newman chose conscience over institutional harmony. When is compromise a virtue—and when is it cowardice? Is there some rule that we can use to distinguish between the two, or is this understood only in hindsight.
3. When does tolerance become indifference—and how can we tell the difference in ourselves? How can one distinguish between holy zeal and destructive fanaticism—especially from within the moment itself? Is it possible that some moral truths can only be revealed after catastrophic mistakes?
4. The prophets of Israel were deeply intolerant of injustice and idolatry. Do you think they be considered extremists in today’s moral climate? In contemporary culture, are we more afraid of offending others—or of standing for something real?

Notes:

[1] Karl Popper, The Open Society and Its Enemies, vol. 1 (1945), chap. 7, note 4.

[2] Alexander Chase, Perspectives (1966).

[3] Ogden Nash, “The Terrible People,” in Versus (1949).

[4] John Henry Newman, A letter addressed to His Grace the Duke of Norfolk, 1875.

[5] Mei HaShiloach, commentary on Bamidbar 25.

[6] Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, Michtav Me-Eliyahu, vol. 1, on messianic descent and providence.

[7] Elie Wiesel, US News & World Report, October 27, 1986.

[8] G. K. Chesterton, “The Paradoxes of Christianity,” chap. 6 in Orthodoxy.anity.” G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Chapter 6: “The Paradoxes of Christianity.”