In this week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, the Torah writes: “You must destroy all the sites at which the nations you are to dispossess worshiped their gods, whether on lofty mountains or on hills or under any luxuriant tree. Tear down their altars, smash their pillars, put their sacred posts to the fire, and cut down the images of their gods, obliterating their [god’s] name from that site. Do not do so to the Lord your God.”

Rabbi Ishmael in Talmud Makkot asks why this verse has to specify not to do this to the Lord your God: “Could you possibly think that the Jewish people would tear down their own altar in the Temple?” The Talmud answers that the warning is not to act like the pagans, for if you do then God will destroy the Temple and tear down the altar.

If this verse means, as the Talmud says, that we should not sin lest God destroy the Temple, why is it stated here in the middle of a discussion of destroying idolatrous altars? I think the obvious answer is that when we are engaged in destroying there is a danger that destruction itself will seize the day. Our ability to discern between enemy and friend, between idolatrous altar and Divine altar, can become blurred in the haze of violence.

Any characteristic can be used for good or for bad, but characteristics such as anger, power and violence are generally considered more dangerous in Jewish thought, because they are likely to get out of hand much more easily than those of mercy, love and generosity. For this reason, Maimonides codifies in his book of law that for all characteristics one should tread the middle path, but when it comes to anger, one should be on the extreme of never actually being angry.

When the Talmud says we should emulate God by imitating God’s characteristics, it lists only mercy and grace and omits others, such as being vengeful (Kel nikamot) or warlike (Ish milchama). Aren’t there times that we should be warlike and vengeful? Certainly there are. But these characteristics must be handled with care; they are more dangerous, and can easily carry us away. This is why I think the Torah warns us in this portion, precisely in the middle of the command to tear down the altars of the idolaters, not to tear down God’s altar. In the midst of war, violence and fervent religious aggression, these characteristics can easily consume us. Destruction of their altars, though it is a mitzvah, can lead to destruction of God’s altar, which is a sin. So it is precisely here, in the command of destroying the idolatrous places of worship, that the Torah must warn us not to destroy God’s holy places. The volatility of destruction—far more than the warmth of mercy—can quickly slip out of control.