BS"D || Rabbi Geier

Pinchas 5784

Let's recall the story of Pinchas, the priest who gave his name to the parashah, the section of the Torah that we read this Shabbat and share an interesting reflection I have found. 

The Israelites, having been saved by God from the curses of the sorcerer Balaam, who was hired by the king of Moab, fell into the trap that he set for them. They began to associate with Midianite women and soon started to worship pagan gods. God's anger was kindled. He ordered the death of the leaders of the people. A plague ensued, killing 24,000 people. An Israelite leader, Zimri, brought a Midianite woman, Cozbi, and cohabited with her in full view of Moses and the people. It was a brazen act. Pinchas took a spear and impaled them both. They died, and the plague was halted.

 

Was Pinchas a hero or a murderer? On one hand, he saved countless lives by stopping the plague. On the other, he couldn't have known that in advance. To any observer, he might simply appear as a violent man, caught up in the anarchy of the moment. The Parashah of Balak ends with this unresolved ambiguity. Only in our Parashah do we get the answer. God says:

 

“Pinchas, son of Eleazar, son of Aharon the Priest, has turned My anger away from the Israelites by being zealous among them on My behalf, so that I did not destroy the Israelites in My zeal. Therefore, I grant him My covenant of peace.” (Numbers 25:11-12)

 

God determined that Pinchas was a hero. He had saved the Israelites from destruction, showing a zeal that counterbalanced the people's lack of faith, and as a reward, God made a personal covenant with him. Pinchas did a good deed.

 

We can only understand this through the fundamental distinction between moral decisions and political decisions. Moral decisions answer the question, "What should I do?" They are generally based on rules that must not be transgressed, whatever the consequences. In Judaism, moral decisions fall within the realm of Halachah, the Jewish Law.

 

Political decisions answer the question, "What should WE do?" where "we" refers to the nation as a whole. They tend to involve conflicting considerations and rarely have an absolute answer. Usually, the decision is made by evaluating the probable consequences. In Judaism, this realm is known as mishpat hamelekh (the legal domain of the king) or hilchot medina (public policy rules). While halacha is timeless, public policy tends to be temporary and situational (“a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build” as it is written in Kohelet, Ecclesiastes).

 

If we were in Pinchas's situation, asking, "Should I kill Zimri and Cozbi?" the moral answer would be an unequivocal no. They might have deserved to die; the entire nation could have witnessed their sin; but it is not possible to execute a death sentence without a duly constituted court, without due process, evidence, and judicial verdict. Killing without due process is murder. If Pinchas had asked the Bet Din if he had permission to act as he did, they would have said no. Halacha is based on non-negotiable moral principles, and it is not permissible to commit murder even if it means saving other lives.

 

Pinchas was not acting according to moral principles. He made a political decision. Thousands of people were dying. The political leader, Moshe, was in a very compromised position. How could he condemn others for seducing the Midianites when his own wife was Midianite? Pinchas perceived the questioning of the authority of the leader of the People of Israel, the absence of leadership. The danger was immense. God's anger, already very intense, was about to erupt. He acted – not by moral principle but by a political calculation, based not on halacha but on what would later be called in the Talmud as mishpat hamelekh, the king's verdict, which may sometimes not completely align with halacha (Jewish law) but is sometimes necessary. It was better to eliminate two lives immediately, who would later be condemned to death by justice, to save thousands of people now. And he was right, as God clarified later.

 

In politics, unlike morality, the sanctity of life has a high value, but it is not the only one. What matters are the collective consequences for the people as a whole. A governor or government must act in the long-term interests of the people.

 

Parashat Pinchas reminds us of the fine line between intolerance and peace, and how one act can change the destiny of an entire people, bringing either peace or turmoil to the whole nation. It also calls us to reflect on not being carried away by fanaticism and arrogating the power of the law into our own hands.

 

Hero or criminal? A very current question in the face of difficult political decisions that involve not only the lives of those suffering today but the future of a people, our People of Israel, and humanity in the face of the scourge of terrorism and intolerance; the freedom of choice and religious intolerance.

 

Let's continue working for a better world. This remains our premise and our duty every day, even though it becomes increasingly difficult as humanity sinks deeper into the waters of hatred and revenge of so many kinds. Just Tikkun Olam, make a better world.