Hashem spoke to Moses, saying, “Take revenge for the Children of Israel against the Midianites. Afterwards you shall be gathered unto your people. (Bamidbar 31:1-2)

In our modern culture, taking revenge, especially violently, is usually condemned. But after the nations of Moav and Midian enticed many of the Israelites to sin, a plague came and killed 24,000. And so, because of this act of war, this revenge isn’t a personal indulgence, it’s literally a mitzvah. But not only that, this vengeful warfare will be Moses’ final act before his death. Moses is aware of this and carries out his part knowing full well once the battle is over, he’s done for. 

Why is taking revenge the way Judaism’s greatest prophet ends his story? In order to answer that, we should look at how Moses begins his story. 

The Hebrew word for revenge, nakama (nun, coof, mem), means to reestablish justice or defend rights. There’s nothing personal in the Jewish concept of nakama. Famously, when we first meet Moses, he kills the Egyptian taskmaster beating the Hebrew slave to death. So Moses’ first act is literally taking nakama. He’s not taking out his anger because of a personal slight, he’s defending the life of one of his brethren. For Moses, the consequences for killing the taskmaster don’t appear good at all. As discussed in my post about Dasan, the Hebrew slave not only isn’t grateful, he informs on Moses to Pharaoh and almost has him killed. 

After Moses escapes Pharaoh and flees from Egypt, the next place the Torah tells us he goes to is Midian. He gets married and lives there for decades with his father-in-law Yisro, a Midianite priest. Now Yisro and his daughters were outcasts of Midian society once Yisro rejected their form of idolatry, but it nevertheless is where Moses resides. How peculiar that the nation that provided a life for him after he was lost and alone is the place he has to return to before he dies. But not before laying siege to it. 

According to Rashi on Bamidbar 31:3, Moses not only understood his death would result from enacting this war but he joyfully led it, without delay. It would seem Moses could have taken his time, spent a few more years teaching, counseling, doing a few more mitzvahs, but instead he accepts this is the end of his life and carries out Hashem’s order with haste. This is absolutely a noble and holy thing. But the fact that this conflict is with Midian specifically alludes to a bigger idea, especially when Rashi says Moses didn’t delay.

Depending on the Midrash, Moses spent anywhere from 20 – 40 years in (or around) Midian before returning to Egypt to save the Israelites. He delayed returning by staying in Midian. If you want to say he wasn’t ready and maybe the Israelites weren’t ready, okay fine. But when he is at the burning bush talking to Hashem, he delays accepting the mission for days. He argues with Hashem, reluctant to accept the responsibility. The rabbis attribute it to his extraordinary humility. But when he delays one time too many, Hasham takes the position of the high priesthood (kohein gadol) that would have gone to Moses and gives it to Aharon and his children. Clearly there’s a point where humility should be put aside and it is time to act. 

Then, in the recent parshas (Balak and Pinchas), when the Israelites are seduced by the women of Midian to do sexual immorality and then idol worship, Moses waits for Hashem’s command to stop the sinful chaos and 24,000 Jews die in a plague. Even with the Shimonite Prince Zimri’s public act of rebellious defiance in Moses’ face, he still delays in action. It’s not until Pinchas steps up and with an act of zealotry puts a stop to the depravity that the plague ceases.

Why, with the Egyptian, did Moses spring into action while with Zimri he delayed? When Zimri was enticed by the Midian princess Cozbi, he directly called out Moses in front of everyone. The Midrash says Zimri exclaimed, “Son of Amram [Moses], Is this woman forbidden to me or is she permitted! If you tell me that she is forbidden, then who permitted you to take the daughter of Yisro who was also a Midianite?” Zimri grabs the control of the narrative, taking the focus off him and makes it about Moses, who married a Midianite woman, Tzipporah. 

When Moses killed the taskmaster, he was acting on behalf of someone else, but with Zimri, he was being attacked personally. So perhaps he feared that taking nekama, retribution, against Zimri would be considered taking personal vengeance. In parshas Korach, Moses’ character was attacked and though he doesn’t respond himself, a miracle causes the Earth to swallow up Korach’s family. The very next day, the people blame Moses saying, “You have killed the people of Hashem!” (Bamidbar 17:6) So it is understandable that Moses would delay before executing the men of this rebellion for the sake of optics. 

But it seems, according to the Torah, Moses’ delay was wrong. Pinchas picked up the slack and saved the day, but Moses is held accountable. That’s what the Or HaChaim says in his commentary. “He didn’t stop Zimri and stand up for Hashem. This could have led to a bad judgment. Taking this vengeance will rectify that. ‘Hashem gives the opportunity to rectify wrongdoings before one dies.’” Meaning to say that after Moses dies and he stands before the court of judgment in Heaven, he might receive a bad judgment because of this. So Hashem gives him a chance to right the wrong and commence the war against Midian (even though he doesn’t actually fight in it.) This time Moses doesn’t delay.

Every one of us has a Midian. A place, a relationship, an identity, or a chapter of our life that shaped us. We may have moved past those, but they still live with us, and at some level we want to honor them, even if we now disagree with them. They helped make us who we are. In Midian, Moses found a wife, a family, and the quiet years that prepared him to become Israel’s leader. So what do we do when we have to face our past? If we can make peace with it, great. But when that past, whatever form it takes, refuses to accept you for who you have become, is blind to your growth and priorities, and insists you’re an imposter, it can be a crisis. Inevitably, family, old friends, past relationships will cause us to regress into old roles to some degree. They may even make your current relationships see you in your old ways, as Zimri started to question Moses. 

Some things we can leave behind simply by walking away. Others have to be confronted. We may have to return to the sources of our growth, important experiences, the mentors who shaped us, wisdom we’ve learned, to reinforce our clarity, especially with these challenges. But that’s okay. In fact, it is healthy. It proves who we have become isn’t just from social pressure or convenience, but deep, wise, and lasting. So it makes perfect sense that the very place Moshe delayed his mission to lead the Jewish people became the place through which he completed it.