Pinchas

June 29, 2002

This is the 4th year in a row that I am speaking about parshat Pinchas and the more I study it, the more I realize how much more I have to learn. So much happens in Pinchas and, at first glance, it wasn't readily apparent to me how it all fits together.

Somewhat arbitrarily, I divided the parsha into 4 parts:

Part 1: The conclusion of the story of Pinchas: At the end of the previous parsha, a terrible plague broke out, killing 24,000 men. This plague was punishment for acts of harlotry and idolatry, committed with the women of Moab and Midian. In one particularly audacious act, a man brings a Midianite woman right up to the tent of meeting, to commit a public act of sex and idol worship. Pinchas, the son of the High Priest, although not a Priest himself, takes a spear and kills both of them, ending the plague. This parsha begins with G-d vindicating Pinchas and rewarding him with perpetual Priesthood for himself and his descendants.

Part 2: Census and Inheritance: Moses and Elazar, the High Priest, take a census of the tribes. G-d tells Moses how the land shall be divided between the tribes, with land passing from father to sons. One particular family, however, has no sons - Zelophehad had 5 daughters who petition Moses for the right to inherit their father's land. Moses consults G-d, who agrees that, in the absence of brothers, women may, indeed possess the land and reveals the laws of inheritance.

Part 3: Leadership: G-d tells Moshe to go up to Mount Avarim to see the land, which he will not be permitted to enter, after which it will be time for him to die. Moshe requests that G-d appoint a new leader for the people. G-d selects Joshua as Moshe's replacement.

Well that's a lot of story, but there's at least some narrative flow to it. But then comes Part 4: The sacrifices required for daily worship, Sabbath, New Month and Holy Days. What does this have to do with what preceded it? Wouldn't this section have been better included in Leviticus/Vayikrah, with all of the description of the Temple and its rituals? And what relevance can we find today in a description of rituals we cannot perform and have not performed for centuries?

Well, after the destruction of the 2nd temple, our Rabbis set out specified prayer services to take the place of sacrifice and that is our form of worship. And if we interpret "sacrifice" in the broadest sense of the word, the entire Parsha can be seen as examples of sacrifice. And that sense, it is sacrifice that binds us together as a people and helps us get closer to G-d.

So, let's start back with Part 1. There are many interpretations of what Pinchas did. I personally feel very uncomfortable with the story, which was the subject of my first d'var. What Pinchas did was very controversial, even in his own time. In fact, he put himself in great personal peril to do what he did. The woman he killed was a Midianite Princess, the man a Prince of the tribe of Shimon. The Midrash tells us that the people rose up against him. Had G-d not intervened, he might have been killed by an angry mob. Yet G-d's reaction is proof that he had the purest of intentions; otherwise he would have been condemned as a murderer. He risked sacrificing his own life because the nation was in danger.

Part 2: Zelophehad's daughters merit praise for the way they stood up to the authorities of their day to fight for what they believed was right and to defend the Holy Land. Think of it: 5 women, with no father, no brothers to protect them, at a time long before the Narayever became egalitarian, standing up to Moshe and Elazar in front of the whole congregation: A congregation that had been rebellious, was reeling from a decimating plague and agitating to select new leaders and return to Egypt. And what did these women have the temerity to say? Not only won't we go back to Egypt, not only will we go into the Promised Land, we want an inheritance in it. "T'nah lanu achuza." Risky? I'll say. They were prepared to sacrifice their standing in the community, their relationships with their tribe, their likelihood of marrying, even their relationship with their uncles, who stood to inherit the land in their place. It wasn't a selfish, materialistic act. It was an act of courage and sacrifice that merited G-d's pronouncement, "The daughters Zelophehad speak right." It merited the laws of inheritance being introduced in their names.

Part 3: Why did Moshe ask G-d for a successor? Didn't he believe that G-d would choose a leader if He believed it was necessary? And why did he ask at this precise time, right after the laws of inheritance? The Midrash (Mikdash Mordechai) explains that Moshe was thinking about the possibility of his sons inheriting his position. After all, if the Priesthood was inherited through Pinchas, if the land was inherited, why not the leadership? It seems odd that Moshe would choose a time such as this for his own personal (or family) interest. Anyone else, yes, but Moshe? The midrash suggests that Moshe know full well that his sons were not worthy and that G-d's answer would be "no." He sacrificed any chance that the people would "crown" his sons after his death, assuming that the leadership would be inherited. He wanted them to understand that land goes through inheritance but Torah goes through merit. Moshe brought his case to the "Supreme Court" so that this decision would be "on the books." The Rambam writes that there are 3 crowns: the crown of Monarchy, the crown of Priesthood and the crown of Torah. The first two can only be acquired by inheritance, but the crown of Torah is available to anyone who wants to come and take it. There is no monopoly on Torah.

That's a lot of sacrifice in one parsha, leading up to the rituals themselves. But there are additional links from the narrative to the sacrifices. Moshe asks G-d to appoint a specific type of leader, one who would be for the people. He did not want the people to be like a flock of sheep with no shepherd "for them" (asher any lahem roeh). The Midrash says that Moshe wanted a leader who could uphold the often-tenuous relationship between G-d and the people and created a parable (rather sexist, I'm afraid, but this, too, was before Narayever was egalitarian) of a King, a Queen and a courtier. The courtier understood the King better than the Queen and was able to restore peace between them whenever the King became angry. When the courtier was about to die, he begged the King to appoint another like him, who could continue to broker the peace. The King replied, "Rather than me finding another like you, you should teach the Queen to show me the proper respect and this will maintain peace forever." So, too, the Midrash concludes, G-d told Moshe: you are worried that the next leader should know how to reduce My anger, as you have done? Instead, command the Jewish people to show Me the proper and due respect and they will never need a third party to act on their behalf! Then follows the description of that respect: the commandment of the sacrifices, which we now offer as prayers.

While Moshe was alive, we had a direct conduit to G-d. With his passing, the sacrifices acted to strengthen our connection to G-d and the Torah. So what can we learn from the description of the sacrifices that can help us today in our relationship with G-d? There is something curious in verse 28:6 :Why, in the middle of the description of the daily sacrifice, the Korban Tamid, does the parsha mention the sacrifice made at Mt. Sinai " ha-asuya behar Sinai" "which was offered in Mount Sinai."? We are talking about the offerings that will become the daily practice in the future; why bring up a sacrifice that happened in the past? Rabbi Yosef Salant says that this is an important lesson to us: when something is done day in and day out, as wonderful as it may be, it eventually becomes done by rote - it becomes automatic, perhaps even a bit stale. Think of how you say the Amida, a prayer that has become so familiar to us that people new to prayer are amazed at how quickly we can get through it! The Torah is reminding us that even when the Korban Tamid is something that we have offered day in and day out for years, we should approach it with all the enthusiasm and excitement as if it were the first sacrifice offered at Sinai. We can learn a similar lesson from King David, who says in Tehillim, "I asked one thing from my G-d: to dwell in the House of G-d all the days of my life and to vist His Palace. The commentaries ask: Isn't that a contradiction? First he asks to dwell, then asks to visit? David wants it both ways: he wants to be one who dwells in G-d's house daily, but to treat each day as if it were a special visit.

So here we are, long separated from the direct link to G-d of Moshe, or even of the prophets and judges. With the destruction of the Temple, our prayer services became our common link to each other and to G-d. The sacrifices and prayers are not really for G-d; they are for us, so that we can be closer to G-d. The prayers and observances of ordinary and holy days, that have survived largely unchanged for centuries, bring us together, as families, as congregations as communities and as a people. If you don't believe me, visit a foreign country whose language you don't speak and find a synagogue. I think you'll find the familiarity of the prayers enormously comforting.

When thought about this way, our prayers are not such a "sacrifice" after all - they are a gift. Unlike Pinchas, we have no nation to save, no plague to stop. Unlike Zelophehad's daughters, we don't have to fight for our inheritance - Torah and prayer are given to us to embrace. Unlike Moshe, we don't have to sacrifice our children's role in the community - the services help to develop that role. But let us remember Moshe's lesson that Torah is passed on through merit, not merely inheritance. We have to work at it. And let us pray, like King David, to dwell in G-d's house as permanent residents, while always acting as appreciative guests.