3. Phinehas.
1893 235 The suggestion which Balaam had made for the ruin of Israel was worthy of his able and ingenious mind, and was very near being entirely successful. The proposal was apparently innocent enough, — simply a union of the worship of Jehovah with the worship of Baal-peor, — a comprehensive religion, at all times the most subtle danger for a charitable and liberal mind. The narrow and bigoted mind does not lie so much open to seduction here: its tendencies are in another direction.
But let us see what this proposal means. To put Jehovah and Baal-peor on the throne together is to insult God and consecrate Satan. Happily it is not possible permanently to do this, and Balaam knew it full well; but he knew also that the very attempt would do more to destroy Israel than all his rèpertoire of cursings, which would affect them no more than that of the jackdaw of Rheims, — they would "not be a penny the worse." Since his time these proposals for a comprehensive religion have been often renewed. The Samaritans worshipped the Lord and the gods of the country around. Tertullian says that Tiberias proposed to the Roman Senate to enroll Christ among the gods. It is the temptation to the large and capacious mind. Socrates who was of this type, like Solomon or Francis Bacon, advises his pupils not to be over particular in such matters; he himself only believed in the one God, but one must have regard to the neighbourhood, and the little local deities. Solomon included his wives' gods in his religion, and Bacon's orthodox Christianity had room in its temple for the golden calf. As apostatised christianity entered the heathen countries, it showed an exquisite dexterity in comprehending the heathen feasts, saints, and customs, in its scheme. In these times the proposal is renewed with all energy and from all sides. Ceaseless efforts are made to work in with popular Christianity the principles of Buddhism, spiritualism, — devilism of all sorts. Not long since a leading ecclesiastic proposed in a convocation of Christian teachers that Christianity should join hands with Mohammedanism to evangelise Africa, since the latter religion was so far superior to Christianity for negroes. This kind of thing may he called euphemistically "a marriage of the creeds," but it engenders (Rev. 2:14) monstrosities and is called not by an honourable but by a foul name in the scriptures.
When men speak of benevolent precepts of idolatrous creeds and imply that Christianity has been developed out of them, they say what is only partially true, and imply what is wholly false. There are indeed many charitable elements to be found even in the worst of them: else had they not survived. But it is too much to ask us to accept, because of these, religions, an integral part of whose worship is too foul to be described. The most refined of the ancient human religions, the Greek, celebrated its worship with rites too vile and debauched to be translated out of the dead languages in which they are recorded; and the modern traveler will whisper in the ear things he has seen even amongst the refined and intelligent Hindus which are never put in print and make one shudder with horror and loathing. These things are part of their worship.
Such abominations were already being brought into the camp of Israel, in the presence of the leaders and priests of Jehovah, when a man suddenly arose, and with one swift, strong, well-aimed blow, smote the iniquity into the hell whence it had arisen. This man was Phinehas.
He struck that one blow, just one blow, such an one as needed no second; and that is nearly all we know of him. But sometimes a whole life is disclosed in a single act by a sudden revelation, as when the lightning illumes a darkened landscape, or when the clouds open and we see, for a moment never again to be forgotten, Melchizedek in his sacerdotal robes on Zion; or as when that fabled light flashed up from the Greek trenches as the great Achilles at length arrived.
All his life was a training for that one blow: all his character was revealed in it, zeal, discernment, boldness, promptitude. It was in ordinary circumstances entirely out of his province to interfere judicially thus; but these were no ordinary circumstances. Something more than the usual formal legal processes were required, or the nation would perish. The plague already raged amongst them. Many another would have seen that it was the best thing to do a few seconds too late. He saw it, and at once he struck, — such a blow as Roland the paladin smote with his sword Durandal, or as when Wieland clove Amilias down to the ground; so Phinehas smote his Ithuriel's spear right through the iniquity of Baal-peor with all his strength, and saved a nation.
A second glance we have of him when the controversy arose with the two and half tribes which stopped outside the Jordan. A difficulty had arisen concerning a pillar which they had built. Their brethren, thinking that it was a sectarian altar, were reasonably incensed, and sent Phinehas, who proves his fitness for the embassy by his just but considerate and conciliating language. A few kindly words explain the misunderstanding. Our brethren across the water have no business to be there at all, it is true; but they are not so bad as we sometimes are apt to think them — the cold mists of the river distort. What appeared to be a sectarian act was really only meant for an act of gratitude and worship. A frightful fratricidal war is averted instrumentally by Phinehas, — and brotherly kindness is reaffirmed.
There is a burlesque of everything and everyone that is worth burlesquing. Uzzah is the caricature of Phinehas.