The Book of Numbers, or Bamidbar in Hebrew, recounts a particularly troubling episode in the Israelites' wanderings. Specifically, our source today comes from Sifrei Bamidbar 131, and plunges us into the heart of a moral crisis at a place called Shittim. But the name itself hints at what’s to come. The text notes, with a grim sort of wordplay, that Shittim sounds like the Hebrew word sitoth, meaning "straying" – straying from God, from their purpose, from everything they were meant to be.
After great victories against Sichon and Og, kings of immense power, the Israelites found themselves swimming in spoils. They had conquered lands overflowing with resources, a stark contrast to the barren desert they had known. But instead of using their newfound wealth wisely, they became wasteful. The text says they "spoiled" the spoils, tearing apart garments and animals, caring only for silver and gold. It's a vivid picture of excess and a loss of perspective.
And that's when the real trouble started.
The people settled in Shittim, and the Moabites and Ammonites saw an opportunity. They set up markets, strategically placing alluring women – older ones to lure the men in, and younger ones to seal the deal. These women offered flaxen garments at tempting prices. It was a classic honey trap, a carefully constructed scheme to lead the Israelites astray.
As the men indulged in food and drink, they were enticed by the women. One would offer wine, specifically "Ammoni wine," the wine of idolators, which hadn't yet been forbidden. Under its influence, the women would suggest bowing down to Peor, a local deity. The text tells us that the act of worship was particularly degrading: baring oneself before the idol. Can you imagine the shame and spiritual pollution? It’s a disturbing image, this blatant disregard for their covenant with God.
The downward spiral continued. The women encouraged the men to "veer off" from the Torah of Moses, as Hosea 10:10 puts it. They were invited to idolatrous banquets, further entangling them in foreign practices. The lure of the forbidden proved too strong for many.
Rabbi Elazar b. Shamua offers a chilling analogy: just as a nail cannot be removed from a door without wood attached, an Israelite could not leave Peor without souls attached – without being stained by its corruption.
The text even includes a few shocking anecdotes that show just how pervasive this corruption became. One story tells of a man named Pinchas, who, after being assailed by the "spirit of Peor," defended himself with a spit. Another tells of a man from Ullas who hired his donkey to a gentile woman, and ended up participating in the idol worship himself, just to fit in. There’s even a tale of a governor who tried to worship Peor with a sacrifice, only to be met with scorn, as the locals explained that the true worship involved indecent exposure. Disgusted, he slaughtered them.
These stories, though brief, paint a disturbing picture of a society losing its way, succumbing to temptation, and abandoning its moral compass. It highlights the dangers of assimilation and the seductive power of idolatry.
The consequences were swift and severe. God commanded Moses to "take all the heads," the judges of the people, and hang them up. Moses instructed the judges to slay those who had joined themselves to Ba'al Peor. A plague broke out, and thousands died.
And then, we have the infamous story of Zimri, a prince of the tribe of Shimon. Defiantly, in broad daylight, he brought a Midianite woman, Kozbi, into the Israelite camp. It was a brazen act of rebellion, a slap in the face to Moses and the entire community. According to the text, the tribe of Shimon even taunted Zimri, urging him on because they believed the other tribes were unfairly targeting them.
At this moment of crisis, Pinchas, the grandson of Aaron, stepped forward. Filled with righteous zeal, he grabbed a spear and entered Zimri's tent. In a single, decisive act, he pierced both Zimri and Kozbi, ending the plague.
The Sifrei Bamidbar describes a series of miracles that occurred during this act, emphasizing the divine intervention. The couple was held together, their mouths sealed, and they were transfixed in a way that left no doubt as to their sin. The lintel of the tent was lifted so that all could see, and Pinchas was protected from the wrath of Zimri’s tribe. The text even says that Zimri was overturned upon Kozbi, so that all could see that their death was ordained.
Psalm 106:30-31 says, "Then Phinehas stood up and intervened, and the plague was stayed. And that was reckoned to him as righteousness, from generation to generation forever."
This narrative is brutal, shocking, and deeply disturbing. It serves as a stark warning about the dangers of temptation, the importance of moral leadership, and the consequences of straying from one's spiritual path. It raises difficult questions about zealotry, divine justice, and the role of violence in maintaining moral order.
It reminds us that even after experiencing miracles and receiving divine commandments, we are all susceptible to temptation. It is a call to vigilance, a reminder to guard our hearts and minds against the allure of the forbidden, and to remain steadfast in our commitment to a higher purpose. How do we ensure that we don't repeat the mistakes of the past? How do we remain vigilant against the forces that seek to lead us astray? These are questions we must continue to grapple with, as individuals and as a community, if we are to learn from the tragic story of Shittim.