In thinking about kana’us — zealotry for the sake of sanctifying G-d’s name — two seemingly polar opposites come to mind. One is the Brisker Rav’s explanation for why Iyov was punished with physical torment for remaining silent when Pharaoh asked his advice on dealing with the Jews. Iyov the Rav explained could readily have justified his silence with the claim that a defense of the Jews would have fallen on deaf ears. Hence the parallelism of the punishment with its implicit message for Iyov: When one suffers from pain crying out helps not a whit to remove the source of the pain but one cries out nonetheless because “az s’tut vay shreit mehn” (when it hurts one screams).

Across the apparent spectrum stands the story of Rav Aryeh Levin donning his Shabbos finery and entering a Jew’s shop in Yerushalayim a half hour before candlelighting taking a seat and observing the flow of customers which each Friday afternoon would unfortunately continue on long into Shabbos. After the shopkeeper had endured several anxious minutes of Rav Aryeh’s presence he worked up the courage to ask him what he was doing there. Clasping the fellow’s hands in his Rav Aryeh responded: “For some time now I’ve wanted to give you tochacha for chillul Shabbos but I said to myself ‘How can I do so without understanding the magnitude of the nisayon that foregoing your Shabbos customers must present to you. These last few minutes showed me that it is indeed no small matter for you to close up shop before sundown … but mein teihre what can I say? Shabbos is Shabbos …”

But in essence while poles they may be there is no conceptual dissonance between them. The Torah’s concept of kana’us presupposes a deep-seated ahavas Yisrael and an oheiv Yisrael of Rav Aryeh’s caliber was surely deeply pained by the Shabbos desecration witnessed. Indeed one might say he opened his mouth to scream but being Rav Aryeh what emerged were soft albeit pain-filled words. Or perhaps the Brisker Rav’s dictum applies where all avenues of effective action have been exhausted and all that remains is to shrei whereas Rav Aryeh found a way to do something that had a chance of effecting change.

Rav Mattisyahu Salomon shlita once observed that the Rambam in Hilchos Matnos Aniyim (10:2) sources the concept of Jewish brotherhood in the verse “You are children of Hashem your G-d” rather than in any of the many psukim that directly refer to all Jews as brothers. The reason said the Lakewood mashgiach is that the kinship we all share is not something independent of our relationship with the Divine but instead stems from it. It is our common Father that makes us brothers; by extension love of our brothers and the love of our Father that we call kana’us are inextricably linked. 

This much however is clear: acting with kana’us requires an almost unparalleled degree of intellectual self-honesty. Consider the subtle internal reckonings the authentic kana’i must engage in. He must have the self-knowledge that he’s not acting out of illegitimate animosity toward fellow Jews (see Tosfos Pesachim 113b s.v. Shera’a); that quite to the contrary he’s motivated by a love of Hashem and the concomitant pain of witnessing His mitzvos being publicly trampled which together impel him to action to restore His honor; and assuming such altruistic motives are present that the vehemence of his protests doesn’t release within him anger and egotism that given human nature can all too easily overwhelm those pure motives.

Is it any wonder then that the license for the kana’i to take matters into his own hands is a halachah v’ein morin kein a law that no halachic authority can direct the kana’i to fulfill requiring instead that he act upon his intentions unilaterally? No judge could possibly give such direction absent the absolute knowledge that the intentions of the kana’i are in fact noble; only the kana’i himself exercising searching introspection can determine that.

Although the Gemara records a dispute as to whether performance of mitzvos generally requires kavanah regarding the actions of the kana’i it cannot be otherwise. The Mesilas Yesharim refers to kana’us as a subset of ahavas Hashem; such love expressed by the kana’i through zealous defense of Hashem’s honor is not merely a condition of but the very definition of kana’us.

Although sincerity of motive is a highly subjective matter it’s reasonable to assume that a good litmus test in this area is the state of the personal spiritual level of the would-be kana’i. In Michtav MeEliyahu (3:117) Rav Eliyahu Dessler writes that the most basic level of Kiddush Hashem is that which a person creates in his own life. From there he can progress to actions that spread knowledge of and respect for Hashem to other Jews and then to his highest sensitivity level which is the desire for all of Creation to know and serve Hashem.

But someone who for example appears unfazed by the existence in his own life of the chillul Hashem that Chazal tell us occurs when one has the ability to study Torah but fails to do so wouldn’t seem to be the likeliest candidate to be a kana’i worthy of fighting Hashem’s battles in the world at large. Rav Dessler himself wonders why it is that so many people seem to have the hierarchy he described backwards being far more concerned with creating Kiddush Hashem and preventing its opposite in relation to non-Jews than in doing so in relation to their own selves. His blunt answer quoting Rav Yisrael Salanter is that such people are in truth pursuing “Kiddush shmam ” the sanctification of their own name.

Even the genuine kana’i faces yet another danger: that his actions will attract the attention of insincere others spiritually immature individuals acting out of any of a host of improper motivations who will seek to board the bandwagon of zealotry for what is for them nothing more than a religiously cloaked thrill ride.

Once Rav Aharon Kotler ztz”l whose indefatigable efforts to save his European brethren during World War II were legend became so frustrated with the foot-dragging of the American Jewish establishment that he summoned a talmid and told him to ready a car for a ride into Manhattan. The Rosh Yeshivah explained: “You’ll take me to the Fifth Avenue headquarters of Jewish organization X whereupon I’ll take a stone I’ve readied for the occasion and hurl it through the office’s big plate glass windows. A tumult will ensue with police and reporters sure to gather quickly and when they ask why an old white-bearded rabbi is smashing windows I’ll tell them that this organization through its inaction is an accessory to murder.” A group of boys who had crowded around as the Rosh Yeshivah shared his plan were flush with excitement exclaiming “Rebbi we’re coming with you!” Whereupon Rav Aharon looked at them sternly and ended the discussion with just eight words: “No for our purposes one stone is enough.”

Is kana’us then still possible in our times? Like all the rest of Torah undoubtedly it is. But the shallowness of modern society and its emphasis on the external and the highly public which the ongoing advances of technology have only exacerbated have made their inroads into our community as well making the attainment of true kana’us exceedingly difficult.