Pinchas: There Is a Time to Act

This Dvar Torah is dedicated in memory of a very special Rabbi, Dayan and Rosh Yeshiva – Harav Yitzchok Meir Hertz (Of Blessed Memory). I didn’t know him personally but as the father of the wonderful Feigy Lieberman, Rebbetzin of my former community Edgware Adass, my wife and I benefitted greatly from the friendship and advice of one of his children and her husband Rabbi Lieberman. To his family, I wish long life.

To my surprise, and perhaps yours, the last time Pinchas appears in Tanach, he is not holding a spear.

During the civil war against the tribe of Binyamin, Sefer Shoftim (the Book of Judges) tells us:

“Pinchas son of Elazar son of Aharon stood before it in those days” (Shoftim 20:28).

The Radak (a 13th-century biblical commentator) explains that Pinchas was serving as Kohen Gadol, standing before the Aron with the Urim and Tumim. The same Pinchas who once took a spear in his hand now stands before Hashem seeking guidance before action is taken.

This is not the Pinchas we remember.

In our parasha, he is often portrayed as a young zealot, acting decisively in a moment of national crisis. In Shoftim, we meet an elderly spiritual leader asking:
“Shall I continue to wage war against the children of Binyamin my brother, or shall I desist?”

The man who once acted now consults. The man who once intervened now deliberates.

It is tempting to see these as two version of Pinchas, and to assume that the older one corrected the younger. I disagree.

The Torah praises the young Pinchas, and Tanach honours the older Pinchas. Both are held up for us to remember. Perhaps the lesson is not that one was right and the other wrong, but that there is a time for each.

There are moments when a nation needs the Kohen Gadol standing before the Aron, seeking guidance. There are also moments when evil is so brazen, danger so immediate, and hesitation so costly that action cannot wait.

Understanding how the same person embodied both roles may be the key to understanding not only Pinchas himself, but why the Torah ultimately praises him. The young Pinchas is not the norm, but he is the role model for those rare moments when action cannot wait.

Let us recall what he did.

Zimri and Cozbi engaged in a brazen act of public immorality and idolatry, seemingly designed to challenge Moshe’s authority and push the nation into further spiritual collapse.

“Pinchas son of Elazar son of Aharon the priest saw, arose from among the congregation, and took a spear in his hand” (Bamidbar 25:7).

He acted immediately. He did not convene a committee or seek consensus. He took responsibility and intervened personally.

On the face of it, this is deeply troubling. He acted without waiting for a formal ruling. He killed two people. He was accuser, judge, and executioner in a single moment. If someone behaved this way today, most of us would be horrified.

As if a signal that it is a complex matter, the act for which Pinchas is known takes place in Parashat Balak, yet G-d’s approval arrives only a week later, in the parasha that bears his name. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks notes that this is deliberate. The Torah separates the act from the verdict, forcing us to sit with exactly this discomfort before being told what to think.

Yet not only does G-d approve, He grants Pinchas and his descendants an eternal covenant:

“Behold, I give him My covenant of peace” (Bamidbar 25:12).

The irony is striking. Immediately after this act of violence, Pinchas receives a covenant of peace.

This is especially surprising given that it follows the death of Aharon, the great lover and pursuer of peace. For a moment, it appears as though the mantle has passed from a man who pursued peace through reconciliation to one who enforced it through decisive action.

Many commentators are uncomfortable with the idea that Pinchas acted on pure impulse. The Gemara in Sanhedrin (the Talmudic tractate dealing with legal matters) teaches that he first approached Moshe and reminded him of the relevant halacha, Jewish law. According to this view, Pinchas was not a rogue zealot but acted within the framework of Torah.

Others say he acted immediately. Whichever interpretation we adopt, one fact remains: nobody else moved. Whether formally authorised or not, Pinchas was the one willing to act when everyone else seemed paralysed.

That matters. The Torah does not merely tolerate what he did. It affirms it.

G-d could have said that the outcome was necessary but the method regrettable. Instead, He grants Pinchas an eternal covenant and names an entire parasha after him.

However uncomfortable it may feel, the Torah is teaching that there are rare moments in history when decisive action is not only permitted, but required.

I personally only fully understood this after October 7th.

Until then, I instinctively identified more with Aharon than with Pinchas. I am deeply uncomfortable with extremism and violence. I believed that most conflicts can ultimately be resolved through discussion, negotiation, and compromise.

October 7th reminded me that there are also moments when evil is unmistakable and danger immediate, when hesitation itself becomes a moral failure.

What makes Pinchas unique is not violence, but emergency action when normal structures collapse. He recognised the crisis and acted.

That does not remove the moral difficulty. The Torah itself acknowledges that difficulty by delaying its approval until the following parasha.

Some commentators point to the broken vav in the word shalom, suggesting that peace achieved through violence always carries a scar. The Netziv (a 19th-century commentator) adds that the covenant of peace was also a protection, ensuring that the act would not define Pinchas.

We see that outcome decades later. The man who once carried a spear now stands peacefully before the Aron, guiding the nation.

Perhaps this is why the Torah delays its verdict. Before endorsing decisive action, it reminds us of its cost.

My son was one of thousands of brave men and women who rushed into action on October 7th, fighting Hamas terrorists in places such as Nahal Oz and Be’eri. Many acted amid confusion, incomplete information, and the absence of a functioning chain of command. Many fell, including five members of his own team.

I am proud of him, and of them. They acted and behaved as Pinchas had done.

I cannot tell you exactly where the line sits between acceptable and unacceptable force. Judaism is overwhelmingly a religion of life and peace. Yet we also know that there are moments when failing to act becomes its own moral failure.

The plague that followed Zimri and Cozbi killed twenty-four thousand people. Bnei Yisrael faced an emergency. So did we. Without those who acted immediately, we would have seen far greater devastation. We would not be here as a nation.

Perhaps this is why Tanach allows us to see Pinchas twice.

The young Pinchas teaches us that there are moments when action cannot wait. The older Pinchas teaches us that such moments must remain the exception, not the rule.

Both are necessary. Interestingly in both occasions he is named Pinches ben Elazar ben Aharon, linking him to his Grandfather – the man most known for peace and last week’s Role Model – Aharon. Although they seem so different they are inextricably linked and the Torah goes to lengths to link them.

We needed the young Pinchas. We needed the Chashmonaim. We needed those who rushed towards danger pre 1948, in 1948, 1967, and 1973. We needed the soldiers, police officers, and civilians who acted on October 7th. In those moments, hesitation would not have been wisdom. It would have been failure.

But we also need the older Pinchas standing before the Aron. We need leaders who understand that emergency measures are for emergencies, that a nation cannot live forever by the sword, and that decisive action must ultimately serve the cause of peace, not replace it.

Most of the time, Judaism asks us to be disciples of Aharon, to pursue peace and bring people closer together. Yet the Torah refuses to pretend that every situation can be resolved that way.

Sometimes evil must be confronted.
Sometimes hesitation becomes dangerous.
Sometimes there is a time to act.

That is why Pinchas receives G-d’s blessing, and why his name is attached to this parasha.

His greatness lies not only in knowing when to take up the spear, but also in knowing when to put it down, and return to the pursuit of peace.