Zealotry can be a dangerous thing especially when it is expressed violently. Modern-day zealots who model themselves after Pinchas are forgetting one thing: the double slaying by his hand was motivated by his tremendous love for the klal after which Hashem restored his soul to its original state of wholeness and peace. Pinchas ben Elazar whom many modern-day zealots have unfortunately claimed as the role model for their violent acts merited a covenant of peace as a personal gift from HaKadosh Baruch Hu Himself. But what exactly is the meaning of this bris shalom?

In his Ha’amek Davar commentary on the Torah the Netziv of Volozhin explains: “After Pinchas’s act of zealotry HaKadosh Baruch Hu restored his neshamah to its original state of wholeness. Any act of violence even if done entirely l’Sheim Shamayim has a corrupting influence on the soul of the one who carries out the act; and HaKadosh Baruch Hu Who fathoms the full depth of human motives knew that Pinchas’s act stemmed purely from tremendous love of Klal Yisrael. Knowing that Pinchas’s intention in slaying the Midianite woman and the nasi of the Tribe of Shimon was purely to save the nation from sin and punishment and that this giant of a man gained no personal satisfaction whatsoever from it HaKadosh Baruch Hu deemed Pinchas worthy of this special treatment.”

Can the same be said for the self-styled kano’im of our times? Has HaKadosh Baruch Hu made any announcements recently about a bris shalom with them? Do they possess a Heavenly credit account that gives them carte blanche to perform acts of gross violence leaving no spiritual stain? Take for example the zealous fighter for holiness and modesty in Bnei Brak a few years back who saw a chareidi woman with a baby stroller talking with another woman who was not dressed in accordance with halachah. In the heat of his indignation he grabbed a discarded lightbulb from a trash container and hurled it in their direction. The shards of glass landed on the baby who certainly had done no aveirah. Was this man’s heart really free of impure motives of anger or other bad middos? After all he saw himself as a Pinchas valiantly fighting holy battles.

Those of us who live in Jerusalem are all too familiar with such displays of the Pinchas syndrome.

As my faithful readers know I served as editor of Yated Ne’eman for its first few years in the 1980s. During my tenure there I once asked Rav Shach ztz”l what approach to take in writing about the demonstrations that were taking place in Jerusalem every Shabbos — on Bar Ilan Street and on the road to Ramot which typically featured stone-throwing at passing cars.

“It’s quite possible that the real mechallelei Shabbos here are the demonstrators”Rav Shach answered me. “First of all throwing stones is absolutely assur in and of itself in addition to the risk of killing someone. But aside from the stone-throwing the demonstrations themselves are a chillul Shabbos. They could have voted in the municipal elections and shifted the balance of power in the city government. With a religious majority a lot of this trouble could have been prevented.”

While I was speaking with Rav Shach I took the opportunity to tell him about a Yerushalmi Jew who was living in the Ezras Torah neighborhood which borders on the road to Ramot the scene of the weekly demonstrations. One Shabbos when the atmosphere was heating up a sudden intuition made him cross the road and stand dressed in his Yerushalmi Shabbos garb among the nonreligious Jews who were watching the demonstration from the opposite side. Noticing one particular car that had just been hit by a large stone he memorized its license plate number. On Sunday morning he called the licensing bureau and asked for the name and address of the car’s owner. With the information he headed straight for the man’s house in Ramot. He knocked on the door and the child who came to open it called out to his father “Abba! There’s some chareidi guy at the door.”

“Tell him I gave at the office” the father replied.

But the Yerushalmi wouldn’t be deterred. “I really need to speak to your father” he insisted.

The father came to the door looking decidedly hostile.

The Yerushalmi took the plunge and said “Last Shabbos I saw you driving on the road near my home. That pains me but that’s not what I’m here about. I’m here to apologize to you for the stone that was thrown at your car. I apologize to you in the name of the people of my neighborhood and I want you to know that the stone-throwers aren’t from our neighborhood; they come from elsewhere. You just moved here recently I understand so I’d also like to wish you a yishuv tov.”

They parted on good terms.

The following Friday the Jew from Ramot phoned the Yerushalmi and told him “My wife and I talked things over and we decided that this Shabbat we won’t drive on the road by your neighborhood; we’ll take another route.”

A week later he called again. This time he said “Kevod Harav we actually are a bit traditional. We keep kosher in our house. As you know we’re new in the area. Could you tell us where we can buy kosher meat?”

Of course the Yerushalmi happily gave him the information and the man took his wife to the butcher shop his new friend had recommended.

Not more than a few months later there was another phone call from Ramot. “Kevod Harav” the caller said “in another half-year our son will be bar mitzvah. I’d like to get him a pair of tefillin and I’d also like him to learn something about Judaism…”

Naturally “Kevod Harav” was happy to help. He took the father to a reliable sofer for the tefillin and he found a suitable tutor to prepare the boy for his bar mitzvah and give him a basic crash course in Judaism.

Eventually the boy was enrolled in a yeshivah.

I told this story to Rav Shach and he was moved to tears.

Allow me to repeat two more incidents from the past:

At an Arachim seminar where I had the privilege of lecturing a few years back one of the attendees confessed to me that he almost hadn’t come. He had made up his mind to explore Judaism and see what it had to offer him and so he’d signed up for the seminar. But then while driving one Shabbos with his wife and their five-year-old son in the car they’d been attacked by a gang of black-clad chareidim. The little boy screamed in terror as the assailants stopped the car and tried to pummel his father with their fists. Somehow he’d managed to extricate himself and his family and he was about to cancel his plans to attend the seminar. But he thought it through and logic prevailed. He realized that the bad experience he’d had couldn’t exactly be called Judaism and he came to the seminar in spite of it. His little son though was still in therapy for the trauma he’d suffered that Shabbos.

A final story: One Shabbos while staying at the Tamir Hotel (back in the days before it became a protected housing facility for the elderly) I walked out to have a look at the demonstrators and I met a prominent mechanech there from the Eidah Hachareidis. Shaking his head sadly as he gazed at the youngsters — some of them mere children — excitedly throwing stones into the road he said “My heart sinks when I look at these hooligans of the next generation.”

The Yerushalmi a friend of mine who is an elderly man today taught me what genuine zealotry is — the kind of zealotry that stems from ahavas Yisrael. He taught me how we are meant to fulfill the obligation of reproving our fellow Jew in a positive way. And after all in a generation like ours this is the only way that can possibly succeed.