By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., in El Cajon, California
This week’s parsha opens where last week’s left off. In the midst of a devastating plague brought on by public immorality, Pinchas acted decisively to stop a blatant desecration of Hashem’s name. His courageous intervention ended the plague and saved countless lives.
But what happens next is just as important. Hashem rewards Pinchas not with honor or power, but with a brit shalom, a covenant of peace.
The Netziv explains why. Even when force is justified, it can leave a mark on a person’s character. Violence, even for the right reasons, has the potential to harden the heart. Because Pinchas acted solely for the sake of Heaven, with no personal anger or agenda, Hashem blessed him that his compassion and inner peace would remain intact.
That message feels incredibly relevant today.
We all pray for peace. Peace is one of Judaism’s highest values. Yet the Torah recognizes that there are rare moments when force becomes necessary to protect innocent life. Even then, however, the goal is never revenge, conquest, or hatred. It is always protection and, ultimately, peace.
As Israel continues to defend itself against those who seek its destruction, this week’s parsha reminds us that when force is necessary, it must always be guided by moral clarity, restraint, proportionality, and the desire to restore peace. Peace is never a sign of weakness. It is always the destination.
The rest of the parsha seems to move in a completely different direction, yet I think it develops the very same idea from another angle.
It tells two stories: Moshe appointing his successor and the daughters of Tzelafchad asking for their inheritance. At first, they seem unrelated, but both revolve around one beautiful Torah idea: ruach—understanding the inner spirit of another person.
After Hashem tells Moshe that he will not enter Eretz Yisrael, Moshe doesn’t dwell on himself. His immediate concern is the future of Klal Yisrael. He asks Hashem to appoint a new leader and refers to Him as Elokei ha-ruchot l’chol basar, the G-d who understands the spirit of every human being.
Rashi explains that every person has a different ruach. We each have our own personality, temperament, strengths, struggles, and way of seeing the world. Moshe is asking for a leader who won’t see the Jewish people as one large crowd, but as individuals.
Hashem chooses Yehoshua, describing him as ish asher ruach bo, “a man in whom there is spirit.”
The Sifrei explains that Yehoshua knew how to relate to each person according to who they were. Today we’d probably call that emotional intelligence. He understood people.
The Abarbanel adds something equally important. Yehoshua wasn’t born a great leader overnight. He became one by spending years alongside Moshe, watching not only how he taught Torah, but how he listened, encouraged, corrected, and cared for people.
Leadership isn’t learned only from books. It’s learned by watching great people live.
The second story brings that lesson down to earth.
The daughters of Tzelafchad approach Moshe with a difficult request. Their father died without sons, and according to the existing law, their family’s inheritance in Eretz Yisrael would be lost.
They could have accepted that quietly. Instead, they respectfully made their case. “Why should our father’s name disappear simply because he had no son?” Moshe brings their question before Hashem, and Hashem answers with remarkable words: “Kein benot Tzelafchad dovrot, the daughters of Tzelafchad are right.”
Chazal point out that they were praised not only for what they said, but for how they said it. They chose the right moment. They spoke respectfully. They were confident without being confrontational. They challenged the system without attacking it.
There is a lesson there for all of us. In today’s world, people often assume that the loudest voice wins. The Torah teaches something very different. Conviction and kindness are not opposites. We can stand firmly for what we believe while still treating others with dignity and respect.
The Kli Yakar notices another fascinating contrast. The spies and the daughters of Tzelafchad looked at the very same land. The spies saw obstacles. The daughters saw opportunity. The land hadn’t changed. Their perspective had. What we value shapes what we see.
Because they loved Eretz Yisrael so deeply, they couldn’t imagine giving up their inheritance. Their story reminds us never to underestimate our own spiritual inheritance. Sometimes we convince ourselves that our circumstances define us or that change isn’t possible. The daughters of Tzelafchad refused to believe that.
Taken together, these stories teach us something powerful. Yehoshua teaches us to understand people. The daughters of Tzelafchad teach us to communicate with wisdom, courage, and respect. Pinchas teaches us that even when strength is required, it must always be accompanied by compassion.
These aren’t just leadership lessons. They’re life lessons. They’re about marriage, parenting, friendships, our workplaces, and our communities. Every one of us has opportunities every day to listen a little better, judge a little less quickly, speak a little more thoughtfully, and remember that every person standing in front of us has their own unique ruach.
As we enter the Three Weeks, these ideas become even more meaningful.
We remember the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, which Chazal tell us was caused not only by external enemies but by the way Jews treated one another. If hatred destroyed, then understanding, respect, and empathy are what begin the process of rebuilding.
Perhaps that is the deeper connection running through the entire parsha.
Pinchas receives a covenant of peace. Yehoshua is chosen because he understands people. The daughters of Tzelafchad show us how to disagree respectfully while remaining deeply committed to Torah and to one another.
Peace is built not only through great national moments but through thousands of daily interactions, with our spouses, children, colleagues, neighbors, and fellow Jews.
May we all be blessed with Pinchas’ covenant of peace, Yehoshua’s understanding of others, and the courage and wisdom of the daughters of Tzelafchad. If we can cultivate those qualities, we will strengthen our families, our communities, and, please G-d, help bring the peace for which we all continue to pray.
The takeaway is straightforward but not simplistic: growth requires ruach, the ability to see people as individuals rather than categories, and to see one’s own life not as fixed, but as something still capable of being shaped through thoughtful action, timing, and communication.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun.