Pinchas stepped into the breach when no one else knew what to do. A prince of one of the tribes had brazenly had relations with a Midianite woman in full view of the public, and a plague broke out among the Jewish people. It was an act so utterly sordid and so utterly stunning that no one knew how to react. No one remembered what the Torah demanded in such a situation.
According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin 82a), when Pinchas saw what was happening, he was reminded of the ruling that “the zealous can take the law into their own hands and strike down a man who has relations with a gentile woman.” With Moshe’s blessing, he killed both the man and the woman with one blow, and the plague came to an end. For his valiant deed, Hashem rewarded Pinchas with His “covenant of peace” and the eternal priesthood.
Why does the Torah mention that Pinchas was descended from Aharon in this context?
The Midrash, quoted by Rashi, tells us that the public reaction to Pinchas’ act was not so positive. People remembered that Pinchas was descended from Aharon on one side but from Yisro on another, and they saw in his violent deed signs of his bloodline from Yisro. “Look at this child of idolaters,” they said. “Where does he get the audacity to cut down a Jewish prince?” Therefore, the Torah traces his genealogy to Aharon to show the correctness of his deed.
The question remains, however. No one had denied or forgotten that Pinchas was a grandson of Aharon. They had accused Pinchas of acting as his idolatrous maternal grandfather Yisro would have acted, not as his paternal grandfather Aharon, that consummate lover of peace, would have acted. They claimed to have discerned in Pinchas the dominance of his pagan bloodlines. How did Hashem’s declaration that Pinchas was Aharon’s descendant exonerate and vindicate him?
Rav Meir Bergman, in his Shaarei Orah, explains that when Hashem declared in this situation that Pinchas was Aharon’s descendant, He was saying clearly that this was the bloodline that led him to perform his act of zealotry. Aharon himself would have come roaring into the camp with his spear extended and impaled the two miscreants with one thrust.
But how can such a thing be? How could a lover of peace such as Aharon commit such a violent act?
The Chasam Sofer takes note of the language of the Mishneh (Avos 1:12) that describes Aharon as “a lover of peace and a pursuer of peace.” What is the significance of this dual description? It reflects two aspects of Aharon’s personality. On the one hand, he was a lover of peace, a man who spread harmony and peace among people.
But sometimes, he had to be a pursuer of peace, a man who drove peace away when that was the right thing to do. True peace (shalom) is the manifestation of a state of perfection (shalem). Compromise with the imperfect does not lead to true peace. In that case, when faced with the vile, the despicable, the quest for true peace demanded that Aharon shun a seemingly peaceful accommodation with the forces of evil. It demanded that he drive away such a peace, that he pursue it out of the Jewish camp. Only then would it be possible to arrive at a state of true peace, a state of peace between the Jewish people and their Father in Heaven.
We often hear criticism of great rabbis who take doctrinaire stands on various issues. “Why do they have to make machlokes (dissension)?” people complain. “Why do they have to start up? Why can’t they leave well enough alone? Is this peace? It’s machlokes! It’s divisiveness!”
We’re familiar with these complaints. We’ve heard them since the people mocked Pinchas in the desert. Hashem answered these complaints by telling us that Pinchas’ way was the way of peace. His actions were worthy of the covenant of peace. Today, as well, those rabbis who stand up for the truth, for the integrity of the Torah, are the ones who spread true peace among the Jewish people.
Bad Financial Advice or My Bad Luck?
Yankel is a well-known financial advisor and investment specialist. He has decades of experience, and I personally know many people who have benefited from his good advice. That’s what led me to use him for my own investments. But for me, it was a disaster. He really made a bad call, and I lost a ton of money. Now, my close friend, Dovid, told me that he’s planning to hire Yankel for investment advice, and he wants to know what I think. Am I allowed to tell Dovid that I had a really bad experience?
—Yehuda
If Yankel had been dishonest or reckless, Yehuda would be required to tell this to Dovid to protect Dovid from losing his money. But even careful, honest financial advisors will sometimes get it wrong because every investment involves some risk. Also, the client is ultimately responsible for agreeing to their advisor’s decision. So Yehuda can’t put all the blame on Yankel. When an investment goes bad, the investor has to determine whether the advice was basically flawed or if it was reasonable advice that did not turn out as planned. If Yankel’s advice was negligent – for instance, he overlooked something he should have spotted or failed to explain the risks – Yehuda should tell Dovid that while Yankel has a good reputation for managing other people’s money, in Yehuda's personal experience, Yankel made a big error that caused Yehuda a great loss. Yehuda must say only the truth, making sure not to exaggerate. He should try to speak with the constructive intention of helping Dovid, not of taking revenge against Yankel. Yehuda may not tell Dovid that Yankel is a bad advisor, as many people have made a great deal of money from his skills. But if Yankel’s advice was sound, and unexpected factors caused Yehuda’s loss, he should not tell Dovid about his negative experience.
RABBI YISSOCHAR FRAND CHOFETZ CHAIM HERITAGE FOUNDATION
