The story of Pinḥas (Phineas) in the book of Numbers is a wild ride, a tale of zealotry, divine intervention, and a whole lot of questions about what's right and wrong.

The scene is set during a troubling time for the Israelites. They're engaging in forbidden relationships with Midianite women and worshiping foreign gods. God is furious, and a plague breaks out. It's a mess. Right in the middle of this chaos, Zimri, a leader from the tribe of Simeon, brazenly brings a Midianite woman, Cozbi, into his tent in front of everyone. It's a public act of defiance.

Then comes Pinḥas. Numbers 25:7 tells us, "Pinḥas, son of Elazar, son of Aaron the priest, saw, and he arose from the midst of the congregation, and he took a spear in his hand." But Bamidbar Rabbah (Numbers Rabbah) 20 asks a pointed question: did only Pinḥas see? After all, the verse right before this one (Numbers 25:6) says this was all happening "Before the eyes of Moses, and before the eyes of the entire congregation of the children of Israel"!

The explanation offered is that Pinḥas "saw the action and recalled the halakha" – the relevant Jewish law. He remembered the ruling: "One who engages in intercourse with an Aramean woman, zealots strike him." In other words, he understood the severity of the situation and the appropriate response according to Jewish law.

But it wasn't simple. Bamidbar Rabbah tells us that there was debate among the people about whether Zimri's actions warranted the death penalty. Pinḥas took it upon himself to act. He concealed a spear beneath his garments, approached Zimri and Cozbi, and under the pretense of needing to "satisfy his needs" (a euphemism, to say the least) gained access to their tent. Then, in a shocking act, he stabbed both of them through their bellies.

Now, this is where the story gets really interesting. Bamidbar Rabbah emphasizes that Pinḥas stabbed them "one atop the other, into the impurity of the two of them, so there will not be any in Israel saying that there had been no impurity there." This was a public demonstration, a clear statement against the sin that was corrupting the community.

But more than that, the text describes twelve miracles that occurred during this act! According to the Midrash, an angel reattached them as they separated, shut their mouths so they couldn't scream, guided the spear with incredible accuracy, lengthened the spear, gave Pinḥas superhuman strength... the list goes on. One particularly striking miracle: the angel "elevated the lintel so that the two of them could emerge between his shoulders, suspended before the eyes of all." It was a public spectacle, divinely orchestrated.

What are we to make of all this? Was Pinḥas a hero or a vigilante? The text clearly portrays him as a zealot acting in defense of God's honor. His actions stopped the plague, which had already killed twenty-four thousand people, as Numbers 25:9 tells us.

The Rabbis, in Bamidbar Rabbah, even compare Pinḥas to a "wise man" who pacifies the "wrath of a king" (Proverbs 16:14), arguing that Pinḥas’s actions assuaged God's anger and prevented the complete destruction of Israel.

But the story doesn't end there. After the act, the members of Zimri's tribe sought to attack Pinḥas. An angel intervened, afflicting them. However, Pinḥas, seeing the angel's destructive intent, prayed and stopped him. The text interprets the word "vayfalel" (prayed) in Psalms 106:30 as also meaning "performing judgment," linking it to the phrase "biflilim" (in court) from Exodus 21:22. Pinḥas, even in his zealotry, understood the limits of divine wrath.

The story of Pinḥas is complex and challenging. It raises questions about religious zeal, the use of violence, and the nature of divine justice. It's a story that continues to be debated and interpreted, reminding us that even in the most sacred texts, there are difficult and uncomfortable truths to grapple with. The Bamidbar Rabbah offers a glimpse into the rabbinic understanding of this pivotal moment, highlighting the miracles, the motivations, and the ultimate impact of Pinḥas's actions. It leaves us pondering: what does it truly mean to act in the name of God?