Pensée juive sur Les Nombres 16:22

וַיִּפְּל֤וּ עַל־פְּנֵיהֶם֙ וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ אֵ֕ל אֱלֹהֵ֥י הָרוּחֹ֖ת לְכָל־בָּשָׂ֑ר הָאִ֤ישׁ אֶחָד֙ יֶחֱטָ֔א וְעַ֥ל כָּל־הָעֵדָ֖ה תִּקְצֹֽף׃ (פ)

Mais ils tombèrent sur leur face et dirent: "Seigneur! Dieu des esprits de toute chair! Quoi, un seul homme aura péché, et tu t’irriterais contre la communauté tout entière!"

Akeidat Yitzchak

It is commonly supposed that "peace" is the restoration of harmony between parties that have been at odds with one another. People who conceive of "peace" as being merely that, deprive the concept of much of its value. If "peace" does nothing more than restore a balance where there had previously been an imbalance, it can hardly be considered a blessing. Shame is not a virtue, since it presupposes that an unworthy act had been committed which the perpetrator is now ashamed of. Actually, peace is more like the silver thread that joins two people or two entities combining them into a unified whole. Why is one of the names of G'd shalom, peace? Because He ties together worlds, keeps them united and preserves their appearance and format. (Midrash Chazit chapter 1) When we read in Samuel II 11,7, "David enquired after the "peace" of Yoav, the "peace" of the people, and the "peace" of the "war," there is certainly no reference intended to the cessation of the war. This war was still very much in progress. David merely asked Uriah whether these people or affairs were all well and proceeding according to plan. The word "peace" in that context describes that there was a common bond between the people or the animals described. A city of people who do not quarrel with one another, who tolerate each other's idiosyncrasies, cannot be said to be at peace with each other as long as they do not share a common purpose or goal. Furthermore, when there is no bond joining people, there is a degree of separateness which may eventually lead to disintegration, decay etc. Isaiah 45,7, has this in mind when he contrasts "fashions light, or creates darkness, makes peace or creates evil, I the Lord do all these." The relationship of ra, evil, to shalom, peace, is like the relationship between darkness and light. Peace, i.e harmony, is the fruitful interaction of the various energies of different bodies, elements. It was Aaron's special talent to have understood that it is the task of a leader to weave that thread, the fabric that binds people to one another, and thus help them to establish harmony by desiring for them what one desires for oneself. Moses, on the other hand, was concerned primarily with the intellectual approach. He believed that without the benefit of Torah, whatever man does is of insufficient value to prolong our days on this earth. Without Torah, no degree of harmony can be achieved that would be capable of overcoming the dichotomy due to the fact that this physical universe has been made up of four distinctly different elements. The Talmud Shabbat 89, illustrates this line of thinking when it describes Moses' arrival on Mount Sinai before he had received the Torah. Moses is described as finding G'd "tying crowns to the letters." G'd asks him: "Moses, is there no "peace" in your city?" (are you people not in the habit of extending greetings of "peace be with you" where you come from?) Moses replies: "how can a slave contribute to the "peace"' of his Master?" G'd replies: "at any rate you should have assisted Me." Immediately, Moses said "now let the strength of the Lord become great as You have said." The lesson contained in that Midrash is, that even without the benefit of Torah, man's effort to weave the thread of togetherness, i.e. civilisation, is sufficient to improve his lot down here on earth. This is shalom; peace. When Hillel advised people to emulate the virtue of Aaron, namely to strive for peace, he was quite correct, inasmuch as this is a most positive character trait. Similarly, when Hillel said "do not separate yourself from the community," he was merely describing the other side of the coin. Tzibbur, community, after all, is what has been united by shalom, peace. The holiness of G'd depends on the community. Venikdashti betoch beney Yisrael, I will be sanctified within the community of Israel. When the community sins, one must abandon it. (Jeremiah 9,1) When only an individual sins, the community must see to it that the individual repents, or they must place him outside the tzibbur, into cherem quarantine. Since peace therefore is of vital importance to the existence of the community, it is clear that precisely at the time the tabernacle was put into service, G'd would pronounce the blessing of peace, as we have noted in our opening Midrash.

Akeidat Yitzchak

From the above, it follows that being given the land of Israel and all the material wealth that this entailed, was a prerequisite for Israel to attain its spiritual objectives both nationally and individually. Cleaving to one's piece of land as a basis for one's financial security therefore, became very important. Pious people's habit of jealously guarding what is rightfully theirs, is understandable for that very reason. Also, the Torah seems especially protective about the material wealth of religious leaders. The reason is to shield them against temptation to acquire wealth by dubious means. If halachah teaches that a High Priest or prophet must be of independent means, or even be given that financial independence, this reflects the idea just discussed. It seems strange that the prophet Jeremiah is asked to waste his money by redeeming the land of an impecunious uncle, when such land is doomed to fall into the hands of foreigners. (Jeremiah 32,5-15) Although Jeremiah is not specifically commanded to purchase that piece of land to forestall it falling into the hands of his uncle's creditors, the thrust of the story is clearly that it was expected of him. Jeremiah, by his action, teaches that he carefully abided by what he perceived to be the will of G'd, even if there was room to doubt the matter. Also, Jeremiah was prepared to spend any amount of money to fulfil G'ds will, since he was certain that G'd would not want him to waste his money. Having done what he perceived to be G'ds will, he asked for some illumination. This was because he wanted to be certain that what he had done did indeed correspond to G'ds wishes. G'd told him that he had indeed interpreted His will correctly, that the money was not wasted however, since the eventual return to Zion was just as certain as the destruction which was about to happen. (verses 37-44)

Akeidat Yitzchak

In order to emphasize the Torah's desire for a peaceful resolution of all our problems, including even those with the Canaanites, the Torah's opening gambit is a diplomatic offensive offering a peaceful solution. (Deut. 20, 10-11) When G'd had commanded Moses to go to war against Sichon and Og, Moses, -unbidden-, had sent "messengers of peace," asking permission to traverse their lands. When G'd had noted this, He agreed with Moses' procedure and decreed that henceforth no battle be joined without a prior attempt at a peaceful resolution of the arguments causing war. (Midrash Rabbah Parshat Shoftim) According to the Sifri, even the seven Canaanite tribes were offered their lives if they repented their ways and changed their lifestyles. The reference about not cutting down fruit trees during a siege, (20,19) includes a rhetorical question concerning the comparison drawn between man and tree. The letter heh, preceding the word adam, turns the phrase into a question. The meaning then is: "Is then the tree a human being that it has to become part of warfare?" Why should the tree be punished for giving us its bounty? The language employed by the Torah for describing what ma עy and what may not be a fruitbearing tree seems extraordinarily clumsy. Perhaps it wishes to teach us that even though our eyes tell us that the tree produces fruit, the determining factor in halachah, Jewish law, is whether that fruit is ma-achal, food fit for human consumption, or whether it constitutes merely animal fodder. If the latter, permission is granted to chop down such a tree. The Torah depicts warfare as a possible series of sieges, to emphasize that the eventual frontal attack with its resultant bloody battles and subsequent looting are viewed as character debilitating. Even if a long siege is necessary to attain one's objective, this is preferable to unlimited bloodshed and violence. Surrender due to starvation is better than obtaining a quick victory on the battlefield.