Isolationism

As Jesus went on from there, He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax office, and He said to him, "Follow Me!" So he got up and followed Him. While He was reclining at the table in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came as guests with Jesus and His disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked His disciples, "Why does your Teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But when He heard this, He said, "Those who are well don't need a doctor, but the sick do. Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy and not sacrifice. For I didn't come to call the righteous, but sinners." – Matthew 9:9-13 HCSB

A thirteenth century Rabbi named Menachem ha-Meiri believed that the tzaddikim should have no association with wicked people whatsoever. He said, “[A person should not say] ‘I shall take care not to live in the neighborhood of an evil person because that would involve constant association, but I shall spend time with him occasionally for purposes of business…’ Such a person is, therefore, warned not to associate with the wicked, that is, any kind of association.”[1]

Thank God, Yeshua did not think that way! He taught, both explicitly and by personal example, that we are not only responsible for our own personal behavior but also for society as a whole. As Malachi exclaimed, “Have we not all one Father? Did not one God create us? Why would you break faith with another of His children, seeing that you are both answerable to the same God?”[2] We are all guarantors one for another.

The Moshiac taught that we are to act as preserving salt,[3] and as enlightening influences in a darkened world.[4] Granted, it is easier to be pious when one is alone. Humans are messy and frustrating. They often lead us astray. But there is a Yiddish phrase that describes a person who is a religious isolationist. Such a person is described as “a tzaddik in peltz”, which means they are self-righteous. They have wrapped themselves up in a fur coat of piety to protect themselves from the cold cruel world.

The tzaddikim, however, believe that they should light a fire to warm not only themselves but all those who choose to be drawn by this life-giving light. Tzedekah – righteousness – is useless if it is not extended toward society as a whole. This is illustrated by the two greatest commandments which are to love Elohim and to love our neighbor. Yeshua taught that these two commands are equal and equivalent. One cannot love God without that love overflowing in helpful good works toward others. One cannot love one’s neighbor without some form of love for Elohim inhabiting our hearts.

We are called, not to be isolationists, but a holy people in an unholy world. We are to be in the culture but not influenced by it.[5] We are not monks. We are missionaries.


[1] The Ethics of the Fathers 1:7
[2] Malachi 2:10
[3] Matthew 5:13
[4] Matthew 5:14-16
[5] Romans 12:1-2