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Phinehas Flew Into the Sky to Kill Balaam

Balaam tried to escape the Midianite war by flying into the air. Phinehas rose after him with the divine Name and brought him back to earth.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Battle on the Ground
  2. Balaam Tries to Escape Into the Air
  3. What Balaam Offered and Why It Was Refused
  4. The Name That Caught the Sorcerer

The Battle on the Ground

Israel went to war against Midian in the wilderness and killed five Midianite kings. The Torah lists the dead in Numbers 31, adding at the end a name that should not be in that list: Balaam son of Beor, the sorcerer, killed by the sword. One name among the casualties, no details. No final scene. No account of how the man who had spent his career trying to curse Israel died in an ordinary battle. The Targum Jonathan, the Aramaic expansion of the Torah edited across the first millennium CE, could not accept that ending. In the Targum's version, Balaam's death was anything but ordinary. It took place above the clouds.

Phinehas led the Israelite forces into the battle. He carried the vessels of the sanctuary and the trumpets of alarm. He had been in one supernatural engagement already, the killing of Zimri and Kozbi that had stopped the plague at Baal Peor. He was not a man unfamiliar with what divine endorsement felt like in a fight.

Balaam Tries to Escape Into the Air

When Balaam saw Phinehas coming, he used his enchantments to fly. The Targum is specific: he rose into the air of heaven, above the battlefield, above the reach of any weapon. This was not a dramatic gesture. It was a calculated escape. Balaam had spent his career finding vantage points, high places and hilltops from which he could direct curses at the Israelite camp. Now he turned the same instinct vertical. The highest possible position was above the sky itself, where no soldier could follow him.

Phinehas rose after him. He did not pursue by any natural means. He ascended using the Great and Holy Name, the divine Name that had been present at the moment of creation, the same Name whose power exceeded any enchantment Balaam had ever used. The chase moved through the air above the battlefield, sorcery climbing on one side and the priestly Name climbing on the other, until Phinehas caught Balaam above the firmament and seized him.

What Balaam Offered and Why It Was Refused

The Targum records that Balaam spoke from the air. He had promises to make. He told Phinehas that if he released him, he would withdraw every curse he had ever composed against Israel and would never curse them again. He offered this as a transaction: his life in exchange for permanent silence. It sounded like exactly the outcome Israel should have wanted.

Phinehas refused, and the refusal came with an indictment. The charges he read back to Balaam ran through generations. Laban against Jacob, Egypt against Jacob's children, Amalek after the Exodus, Balak at Peor. The accumulated record of what this entity had attempted against Israel across its various lifetimes and incarnations. Balaam's final offer was not the beginning of something new. It was one more attempt to find a bargain that would let the enemy survive and regroup. Phinehas brought him down from the sky and killed him there, on the ground that the sorcerer had tried to escape.

The Name That Caught the Sorcerer

The theological structure of the aerial chase is precise. Balaam's arts were real. He could fly. His enchantments operated at a level the Torah treats seriously throughout the Balaam story, never suggesting that his power was illusion or fraudulent. The reason his curses became blessings was not that he lacked the ability to curse. It was that God overrode his mouth each time he opened it. The same divine power that had been redirecting Balaam's speech for the entire episode was, in the end, the force that ran him down above the clouds.

The Great and Holy Name that Phinehas used in the sky was the weapon that outpaced sorcery, not because Balaam was weak but because the Name operated at a level his arts could not reach. The sorcerer had found his ceiling. He had pushed his enchantments as high as they could go, and the ceiling was still below where the Name could travel.


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Sources

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Targum Jonathan on Numbers 31Targum Jonathan

The war against Midian in the Targum's version of (Numbers 31) is a supernatural thriller. Twelve thousand Israelite soldiers went out with Phinehas carrying "the Urim and Thummim consecrated to inquire for them, and the Jubilee trumpets in his hand." He was not just a warrior, he was a walking oracle and signal corps in one person.

The Targum identifies one of the five Midianite kings as Balak himself: "Zur, who is Balak." The king who had hired Bileam to curse Israel was hiding among Midian's royalty all along.

The death of Bileam is the Targum's most spectacular battle scene. When Bileam saw Phinehas pursuing him, "he made use of his magical arts and flew in the air of the heavens." The sorcerer literally took flight. But Phinehas "forthwith pronounced the Great and Holy Name and flew after him, and seized him by his head." A midair chase and capture, powered by the divine Name against dark magic. Bileam begged for his life, swearing never to curse Israel again. Phinehas's response was devastating: "Are you not Laban the Aramean who sought to destroy Jacob our father, who went down into Egypt to destroy his children, who sent Amalek against them after the Exodus, and who now gave the evil counsel to Balak?" Phinehas recited Bileam's entire criminal history across generations, then killed him.

Moses was furious that the soldiers spared the Midianite women, "These are they who caused the offence of the sons of Israel, by the counsel of Bileam." The Targum then describes a remarkable virginity test. Young girls were made to "stand before the Crown of Holiness", the priestly tiara. And their faces were examined: "She who is not a virgin will be pallid in the face, but she who is a virgin child will blush in the face, like fire."

The returning soldiers reported that not a single man was lost in battle, then described the restraint they showed. They entered Midianite chambers, saw beautiful women, took only their jewelry, "but in all this we abstained from lifting our eyes upon themselves, or gazing on one of them, lest we should sin and die the death which the wicked die in the world to come." They asked that this restraint "be had in memorial for us in the day of the great judgment."

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Legends of the Jews 6:106Legends of the Jews

Our story today takes us into the realm of magic, betrayal, and a desperate attempt to outrun destiny. It’s a wild ride, so buckle up.

We know him from the Torah, where he’s hired by Balak, king of Moab, to curse the Israelites. But, as Ginzberg tells us in Legends of the Jews, Balaam's story doesn't end with his failed attempts to curse Israel. Oh no, it gets much more dramatic.

Balaam, caught red-handed, tries to escape the wrath of Phinehas, a zealous priest and leader of the Israelite army. How does he do it? He takes to the skies! Yes, you read that right. Balaam uses his mastery of sorcery, aided by his equally wizardly sons, Jannes and Jambres (names that echo through magical lore), to literally fly away.

Picture the scene: Phinehas and his army watching in disbelief as Balaam ascends. Phinehas, never one to back down from a challenge, shouts, "Is there any one among us who is able to fly after this villain?"

Enter Zaliah, a Danite and, according to the tale, a "past master in the art of sorcery." He answers the call and gives chase, soaring into the air after Balaam. It’s like a wizarding duel, but with higher stakes.

But Balaam is slippery. He’s not just flying; he's weaving through different "layers of air," whatever that means! He manages to lose Zaliah, vanishing from sight. Poor Zaliah is left stranded, unsure of what to do next.

That's when Phinehas steps in, using his own magical abilities. He dispels the clouds concealing Balaam, revealing him to Zaliah. Now exposed, Balaam is forced to descend and face Phinehas.

Balaam, desperate, pleads for his life, promising never to curse Israel again. But Phinehas isn’t buying it. He launches into a scathing indictment of Balaam's past transgressions. "Art not thou the Aramean Laban who tried to destroy our father Jacob?" Phinehas asks, reminding him of his long history of animosity toward the Israelites. He recounts Balaam's involvement with Amalek and his disastrous advice to Balak, which led to the sin with the daughters of Moab and the death of twenty-four thousand Israelites. According to this account, Balaam's wickedness stretched far and wide.

Phinehas condemns him: "In vain therefore dost thou plead that thy life be spared."

He orders Zaliah to execute Balaam, but with a crucial caveat: "be sure not to kill him through the holy name of God, as it does not befit so great a sinner to meet his death in such a way." Even in meting out justice, there's a concern for the sacred.

But it's not so simple. Balaam's magic protects him from ordinary weapons. Zaliah's initial attempts to kill him fail. He’s seemingly invincible.

Finally, Phinehas provides the solution: a sword engraved with a serpent on both sides, accompanied by the cryptic words, "Kill him with that to which he belongs, through this he will die." This, my friends, is poetic justice at its finest. Balaam, the master of dark arts, will be defeated by a weapon imbued with the very symbolism of his wickedness. And with this sword, Zaliah finally ends Balaam's life.

What are we to make of this fantastical tale? It’s more than just a story of good versus evil. It's a reminder that actions have consequences and that even the most powerful magic cannot ultimately shield someone from the repercussions of their choices. Balaam's story, as retold in Legends of the Jews, becomes a potent symbol of the futility of trying to escape accountability, no matter how high you fly.

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Antiquities IV.4Antiquities of the Jews (Josephus)

Balaam could not curse Israel. So he taught their enemies how to make Israel curse itself.

Before leaving, the prophet gave Balak and the Midianite princes a final piece of advice: send your most beautiful daughters to the Israelite camp. Let the young men fall in love. And when they are desperate enough to do anything to keep these women, have the women demand one thing, that the Hebrews abandon the God of Israel and worship the gods of Midian. This, Balaam said, was the only way to provoke God's anger against His own people.

It worked. The Midianite women entered the camp, and the Hebrew men were overwhelmed. The women consented to stay, on one condition. They told the young men that their God was foreign and exclusive, that everyone else worshipped the local gods, and that if they truly loved them, they would do the same. One by one, the men gave in. They ate forbidden food. They bowed before foreign altars. The corruption swept through the entire army like a plague.

Even Zimri, the head of the tribe of Simeon, openly took a Midianite woman named Cozbi, daughter of the Midianite prince Sur. When Moses addressed the assembly and urged repentance, Zimri stood up and mocked him to his face. He called Moses a tyrant and declared his right to worship whatever gods he chose and marry whomever he pleased.

The people were paralyzed. Moses would not escalate. But Phinehas, the grandson of Aaron, a young man of extraordinary courage, refused to let defiance become precedent. He walked into Zimri's tent and killed both Zimri and Cozbi with a single javelin thrust (Numbers 25:7-8). Other young men who shared his conviction followed his example, striking down the worst offenders. A divine plague consumed the rest. Twenty-four thousand Israelites died. Phinehas's act of zealotry stopped the destruction. And earned him an eternal covenant of peace from God.

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Ben Sira 50:25Ben Sira

Incense fills the air, music swells, and then Simon the High Priest appears. He's just completed the sacred service, and the sight is so breathtaking, so imbued with holiness, that the entire congregation bows down. Twice.

That's the scene Ben Sira paints for us in chapter 50 of his book. "And they bowed down again a second time, the people all of them, before him." (Ben Sira 50:21). It's a powerful image, isn't it?

It’s about what that moment means.

Ben Sira then launches into a blessing. "Now bless ye the Lord, the God of Israel, which doeth wonderously in the land." (Ben Sira 50:22). It’s a call to recognize the divine hand in everything, from the miracle of birth – "That bringeth up man from the womb; And maketh him according to his will" (Ben Sira 50:23) – to the potential for peace among us: "May he give you wisdom of heart; And may there be peace among you." (Ben Sira 50:24).

And speaking of peace, there's a special blessing reserved for Simon. Ben Sira asks that God's mercy remain steadfast with him and that God confirm the covenant of Phinehas. "May his mercy stand fast with Simon; And may he confirm to him the covenant of Phinehas, Which he executed unto him and unto his seed, As the days of heaven." (Ben Sira 50:25).

Now, who was Phinehas? He was a priest known for his zealousness in defending God's honor. Because of this, God made a covenant with him, promising him and his descendants a lasting priesthood, as we see in (Numbers 25:10-13). Ben Sira is essentially asking that Simon inherit that same divine promise, that his service and his lineage be blessed for generations to come.

But the passage takes a sharp turn. Just as we're basking in this beautiful scene of piety and blessing, Ben Sira throws us a curveball: "Two nations my soul abhorreth; And the third is no people." (Ben Sira 50:26). Whoa! Who is he talking about?

Unfortunately, the text doesn't explicitly say. And the identity of these hated nations has been debated for centuries. Some scholars suggest they might be the Edomites and Philistines, historical enemies of Israel. Others propose they represent groups that threatened Jewish identity or religious practice during Ben Sira's time. The ambiguity is frustrating, but it serves as a stark reminder that even in moments of great spiritual uplift, the realities of conflict and division are never far away.

What can we take away from all of this? Ben Sira 50 is a interplay of awe, blessing, and a touch of…well, let’s call it righteous indignation. It reminds us that faith isn't just about lofty ideals; it's also about confronting the messy realities of the world. It's about striving for peace while acknowledging the existence of conflict. It's about recognizing the divine in the everyday while never losing sight of the challenges that lie ahead.

And perhaps, most importantly, it's a reminder that even in the face of division, we can still choose to bow down in reverence and seek blessings for ourselves and for the world.

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