The Torah's prohibitions against idolatry and idol-worshipers are very strong indeed. In this week's Torah portion of Re'eh (Deut. 11,26-16,17), we read: "You shall utterly destroy all the places that the nations worshiped [idols]… Smash their altars, break their pillars, burn their Asherah trees, cut down the idols of their gods, and erase their name…" (12,2-3).  

The early commentators explain that the idolatry must not only be destroyed, but its very roots must be devastated; it must be mocked and humiliated, leaving no trace thereof. 

We who live in the 21st century C.E. view these commandments with a mixture of confused and even shocked emotions. Even if we understand that the Torah does not always fully accept the modern notions of democracy, pluralism, containment, 'to each his own,' and laissez faire, this does not necessarily lead to mass destruction and degradation. And even if we remember that idolatry is a most grave sin, one of the three for which one must agree to be killed rather than violate, we still have great trouble wrapping our heads around these commands. Sure, idolatry can be outlawed, its establishments closed down, and the like – but to burn, devastate, raze, and refer to it with mockery and scorn – what's going on? This type of reaction appears to signal panic and insecurity in our beliefs. Isn't our clear faith in One G-d strong enough that we need not resort to such a hostile response to those who believe the opposite?

But this is not all. We are also commanded in this Torah portion to destroy an ir nidachat – that is, a city whose inhabitants become idol-worshipers: they and their livestock must be slaughtered, and the city and everything in it must be burnt to the ground and may never be rebuilt. The accepted explanation for this is that a city whose inhabitants are so evil that they came to a joint decision to turn to the wickedness of idolatry, must be utterly blotted out. (Let us note that the Sages say that this commandment applies only under certain very restrictive conditions – such as that there must not be even one mezuzah there – and therefore was never actually meant to be fulfilled.) 

And again we ask: To burn an entire city and its residents? How can this possibly be grasped, given that G-d Himself, even when "angry," remembers His compassion (Tr. P'sachim 87b)! How can a nation that is termed "merciful sons of merciful and bashful sons of bashful" be expected to act so ruthlessly? 

In truth, these questions primarily show the tremendous distance and difference between the world of spiritual exile in which we live, and the world of Torah and the true reality. 

We recall that at Mt. Sinai, G-d spoke only two of the Ten Commandments to the Children of Israel, and Moshe Rabbeinu told over the next eight. What were the only two that we heard from G-d Himself at this historically sublime occasion? "I am the Lord your G-d," and "You shall not have any other gods in My stead" (Sh'mot 20,1-2).  

It is the most fundamental of fundamentals to know that there is One G-d, creator of absolutely all, Whose existence grants being to every single aspect of the universe. Knowing this is a positive Torah commandment - "I am the Lord your G-d" (Sh'mot 20,1). Conversely, whoever considers that there are other gods in the world stands in violation of "You shall not have any other gods in My stead." The Rambam explains that belief in One G-d is the "main point" on which everything else hinges. 

When a person lives with deep and true faith according to the teachings of Torah, and understands that our entire existence is based on our trust and faith in G-d and remaining totally apart from anything even reminiscent of idol-worship, he understands that when we are with G-d our lives have meaning and value, as well as Eternal Life in the World to Come, and that without Him we have only darkness, emptiness and futility. In this light, it is clear that idolatry is the most destructive force in the universe, and that there is no more lethal weapon for mankind, there is no more terrible disease than idolatry, and that idol worshipers are a genuine threat to mankind. And in the face of such a threat, there is no greater act of compassion than to obliterate and remove the threat, with any and all means available. 

No doubt, the destruction of idolatry does not photograph well in the media – but neither does the aerial bombing attack of a city filled with terrorists and weapons. (Neither did Hiroshima, for that matter.) But in truth, there is no greater mercy than removing this menace to the welfare of the world – and it is these extreme measures that the Torah demands of us, in order to save the world. 

On the other hand, these commandments to wipe out idolatry are applicable only when the Jewish Nation is settled in its Land and the Sanhedrin High Court of 71 judges is in place. But in our times, in the world in which we live, not only are we not commanded to wipe out idolatry in this manner, we are forbidden to do so! This is because such actions today would have precisely the opposite effect than that which the Torah desires. As the Chazon Ish (Rabbi Avraham Yeshayahu Karelitz, d. 1953) wrote regarding a similar law of moridin v'ein maalin: 

"It appears that this law applied only when G-d's providence over all was seen and revealed, when miracles and a Heavenly Voice were prevalent, when the righteous of the generation were under clearly-seen Divine Providence, when the heretics were [therefore] particularly brazen in directing their desires towards sinful lust and wantonness, and when Divine retribution was prevalent and everyone knew that sinfulness brought war and disease upon the world. But nowadays, when the truth is "covered," and faith has been cut off from the simple people, and [taking offensive measures] against sinners does not help the situation, but rather makes it worse, in that they will see us merely as agents of violence and destruction – the law does not apply, for it no longer serves our purpose of rectification. Rather, we must bring [the sinners] close with love and rays of light, as much as we can."

The purpose of all mitzvot is to rectify the world and bring it to its ultimate and highest purpose. It is therefore clear that under the appropriate conditions, we must uproot and destroy idolatry and its practitioners, in order to remove the threat from the world – but when the circumstances dictate otherwise, we must seek to improve the world with love and light.

Translated by Hillel Fendel