Kohelet Rabbah, a Midrashic commentary on the Book of Ecclesiastes, tackles this idea head-on with the verse: "If the spirit of the ruler comes upon you, do not forsake your place" (Ecclesiastes 10:4). But what does that mean? It's not just about physical location, but about your character. The Midrash interprets this as a warning: when you gain power or dominion, do not forsake humility.

Why? Because, the text tells us, forsaking humility "causes death to his world and sin to his generation." Strong words, right? Where do we learn this? From the story of Zekharia.

According to II Chronicles 24:20, "The spirit of God clothed Zekharia…and he stood above the people." Now, did he literally stand above them? No. The Midrash explains that Zekharia, who was a son-in-law of the king (actually, grandson), a priest, a prophet, and a judge, became arrogant. He thought he was better than everyone else. He began to speak arrogantly, reprimanding the people: "Why are you violating the mitzvot (commandments) of the Lord?" (II Chronicles 24:20).

And what happened? "They conspired against him and stoned him with stones at the command of the king [in the courtyard of the house of the Lord]" (II Chronicles 24:21). A brutal end, brought about by his hubris.

But the story doesn’t end there. Rabbi Yudan asks Rabbi Aḥa where exactly this happened, not in the Israelite Courtyard or the Women’s Courtyard, but in the Priests’ Courtyard. And something strange happened with Zekharia's blood. Unlike the blood of animals, which is to be covered, Zekharia's blood remained exposed, seething, crying out for vengeance, as Ezekiel 24:8 says, "to arouse fury and to take vengeance."

The story continues. When Nevuzaradan, the Babylonian general who destroyed Jerusalem (II Kings 25:8–22), arrived, he saw the seething blood. He demanded to know what it was. At first, the people lied, saying it was from sacrifices. But when the blood wouldn't stop, they confessed: it was the blood of Zekharia, a prophet they had killed for rebuking them.

Nevuzaradan, in a twisted attempt to appease the blood, slaughtered the Great Sanhedrin, the lesser Sanhedrin, young priests, even schoolchildren, onto the blood. But nothing worked until he asked the blood, "Zekharia, I have eliminated the best of your people. Would you like all of them to be eliminated?" Only then did the blood finally rest.

The story takes another turn: Nevuzaradan, horrified by what he had done, contemplated repentance. He realized the gravity of taking even one life, let alone so many. At that moment, God had mercy, and the blood was absorbed into the ground.

Rabbi Yudan points out that the Israelites committed seven transgressions in killing Zekharia: killing a priest, a prophet, and a judge; spilling innocent blood; desecrating the Temple Courtyard; and doing all this on Shabbat and Yom Kippur!

The Midrash then contrasts Zekharia with Yaḥaziyel, another prophet. Even though "the spirit of the Lord was upon him in the midst of the assembly" (II Chronicles 20:14), he remained humble, likening himself to the assembly.

The Midrash offers other examples, interpreting the verse about the spirit of the ruler in the context of Noah, who entered and exited the ark with God's permission (Genesis 7:1, 8:16); Joshua, who led the Israelites across the Jordan and back only with divine command (Joshua 1:11, 4:17); David, who remained humble even after becoming king (I Samuel 17:14, I Chronicles 28:2); and Mordekhai, who returned to his humble post at the king's gate even after his moment of glory (Esther 2:19, 6:12).

So, what’s the takeaway? It's a powerful reminder that true greatness lies not in power or status, but in humility. It's about remembering where we came from, and not letting success change us for the worse. Because as the story of Zekharia shows, arrogance can have devastating consequences. It’s a lesson that resonates just as strongly today as it did centuries ago.