What makes a hero?
In this week's Parshah, the Torah discusses the laws of war and some of the
moral imperatives that apply even under fire. Specifically, we read of the
exemptions that entitled a soldier to leave the battlefront. One of these was
"the man who is fearful and fainthearted." The Torah rules that "he should go
and return to his home" and join the civil service, lest his cowardice "melt the
hearts" of his comrades in arms and demoralize them (Deuteronomy 20:8).
Interestingly, Maimonides rules that this exemption only applied to wars
which were optional for political or territorial reasons (milchemet ho'reshut),
but not to obligatory wars where the Torah itself mandates that we go to battle
(milchemet mitzvah), such as a war of self defense or the wars to
conquer the Promised Land.
But what is the logic here? Why the distinction? If the problem is that the
coward's fear will have a negative effect on his fellow combatants, then that is
a psychological fact of life. What difference does it make if the war is
mandated by G-d or by Jewish leadership of the day? Surely a coward is a coward
whatever the war!
But Maimonides is sharing with us a striking analysis of human nature. Fear
and anxiety are magnified when there is more than one option open to us. When we
have the choice of fighting or not, when war is not strictly commanded by G-d
and it's a government decision, then I may very well choose to retreat. But when
there is no choice, when it is a non-negotiable mitzvah from G-d that this war
be fought, then even cowards become heroes.
I am fond of quoting that famous American philosopher, John Wayne, who once
said, "True courage is not the absence of fear. True courage is being scared
like hell and saddling up anyway." Now that's a wise cowboy. The fearless few
who heedlessly plunge into every offered challenge
are indeed strange exceptions to our race. Most normal people experience fear in
scary situations. Those of good courage face up to the fear and confront it.
I can tell you many stories of ordinary people who became heroes. How? By
overcoming their fears and doing whatever deed had to be done. My friends'
father, Pinne Merkel, once ran into a synagogue in the old neighborhood of
Doornfontein, Johannesburg to rescue the Torahs from the Holy Ark. The firemen
warned him not to, but he ran in anyway. Pinne was not a religious man. But for
him, saving the Torah scrolls was something that just had to be done, so an
ordinary Jew became a holy hero.
My congregant's son, Hugh Raichlin, is not a doctor. He's a lawyer. But when
his wife was in labor and suddenly things started happening much too quickly, he
delivered his own child inside the car in the parking lot of the maternity
hospital. He wasn't looking for heroism. He had no option and heroism found him.
When something just has to happen, we find a way to make it happen. We pluck
up the courage and act valiantly.
My own father, may he be well, used to be a chain smoker (thank G-d, he gave
up the habit long ago). It often amazed me that the same person who would never
be without a cigarette between his fingers six days a week was able to go cold
turkey every Shabbat. For six days he couldn't wait two minutes, but once a week
he waited for 25 hours! How? The answer is that keeping Shabbat for him was
simply a non-negotiable commitment, so he had no option and persevered. As soon
as Shabbat was over, though, he and his fellow Shabbat-observant smokers would
make a mad dash for the nearest pack.
It applies to life, to marriage, to business, to everything. If something is
so important to us that to lose it would be unthinkable, we discover that we
really can find a way, after all. In our Jewish lives, too, when we accept that
a particular mitzvah is a sacred principle and inviolate, we will observe it no
matter what the challenge.
So, cowards of the world, unite! Let us do what we know must be done. That's
how ordinary people become heroes.