The Stuff
of Real Life
Parshas Masei
Posted on July 6, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Naftali
Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner
This week’s Torah portion
concludes with an overview of the Jewish nation’s wanderings in the wilderness,
as well as key laws and preparations associated with their inheriting the land. Moshe Rabbeinu designated six Levite cities,
three in Eretz Yisrael and three in Trans-Jordan, as
cities of refuge where an accidental murderer can escape an avenger from the
victim’s family.
Although his act of
homicide was not premeditated, the Torah considers him culpable for being
negligent, and not adequately protecting another’s life. The time he spends in
the Ir Miklat will enable him to realign his values and correct the habits that
led to his negligent behavior. The Levite city was the ideal place to achieve
this rehabilitation. The Levites were landless and wholly devoted to teaching
and guiding their fellow Jews. Even while in Egypt, the Levites were
preoccupied with spiritual advancement, and distanced themselves from the
pursuit of material prosperity.
Their conduct was
emblematic of the highest degree of moral responsibility. Living among people
of this caliber would re-educate and sensitize the murderer to the supreme
sanctity of human life.
The Talmud asks
why were there precisely the exact number of “refuge” cities in Trans Jordan as
there were in Israel? After all, Trans Jordan was only home to two and a half
tribes, while the remaining nine lived in Israel. Why not distribute the cities
of refuge in a way that would more accurately reflect the demographics?
The Talmud answers
that in Trans Jordan there were more homicides and the population’s sensitivity
to human life became diminished. The likelihood of accidental murder was therefore
greater. The average citizen was less conscious of the need to exert himself to
the utmost to protect his fellow Jew; he would be more likely to pursue his own
needs at the expense of his fellow citizen.
The great sage R’ Itzel of
Volozhin offers a different interpretation of the Talmud’s assertion that
bloodshed was more prevalent in Trans-Jordan, thus requiring more cities of
refuge in that region. The problem, he explains, lay not in the higher
incidences of accidental homicide in Trans-Jordan but in the over-eagerness to
avenge it. Since the inhabitants of Ever HaYarden were less sensitive to
murder, it was far more likely that an accidental killer would be pursued by a
family member driven to exact vengeance for unsavory reasons. The Torah therefore
provided the perpetrator with more immediate access to an Ir Miklat.
The culture of tolerance
toward bloodshed would delude people into thinking they were motivated by moral
principles in trying to avenge their relative’s death, when all too often they
were simply trying to even the score with a hapless fellow Jew.
The underlying message of
the portion is that nothing affects our mindset and value system more than our
social environment. We are all conditioned by repeated and constant exposure to
the prevailing culture. Harmful outside influences can easily pollute our
ability to distinguish right from wrong and can easily desensitize us from
appreciating the value and sanctity of every humans life.
This underscores the
importance of ensuring that our homes are bastions of light, joy and an
appreciation for the kedusha of Klal Yisroel.
These values must permeate the atmosphere to the point where they are imprinted
on the minds and hearts of our children. Only by building our homes according
to the Torah’s blueprint can we turn them into lighthouses of positive energy.
They will thus become the miniature ‘cities of refuge’ that will protect
ourselves and our families from the steady onslaught of moral decay and
corruption in the surrounding culture.
Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos
Creatures
of Our Environment
Posted on July 24, 2003 (5763) By Rabbi Yaakov
Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner
In this week’s reading, G-d commands the nation of Israel to set aside
Cities of Refuge throughout the land — three in the Land of Canaan, and three
east of the Jordan River.
A City of Refuge could
only be used by a person who killed another accidentally, but negligently. An
alleged murderer would be taken from the city and judged, and returned only if
the killing was unintentional. A truly accidental killing, on the other hand,
was not punished — a person was liable only if he or she might have taken
appropriate precautions and avoided the accident. So the Torah prescribed very
different treatment for those who murdered, those guilty of manslaughter, and
those who were blameless.
The Talmud tells us that there were
two parallel lines of three Cities of Refuge running from north to south, on
each side of the Jordan. The three cities on each side were divided such that
each was equidistant from the others and also from the borders — dividing the
Land of Israel into equal quarters from north to south.
There is, however, an
obvious problem with this division. A person living in the middle of the
country would have to travel no more than half the distance that a person on
the northern or southern border would travel in order to reach the nearest
city. Someone who lived at the midpoint between the northern and middle cities
would have to travel one-eighth of the length of the country to reach either
city, but someone living in the very south of the country would have to travel
one quarter of its length to reach the southernmost City of Refuge.
Perhaps one could
resolve this question by saying that the center of the country was more
populous, so more cities were required. But if so, we have a different problem:
there were three cities on each side of the Jordan River, while the great
majority of the population lived in the Land of Canaan on the western side.
Abbaye, one of the great
scholars of the Talmud, provides a very simple answer: there
were more cities where there were more murderers! Those areas with more cities
per square mile had more people who needed to make use of them, resulting in a
roughly even division of population between the six cities.
There is something wrong
with this answer, though. As we just discussed, the Cities of Refuge were not
for murderers, but only for those guilty of manslaughter, those who had
negligently but not deliberately killed someone. The relative abundance or
paucity of murderers should not matter.
Some of the early
commentators, such as the Ramba”n (Nachmanides), answer by pointing out that
murderers would also flee to these cities, in order to make their actions look
accidental or under the misconception that they would be safe there. Since it
took time to clarify who could stay and who would be removed, more cities were
needed where murderers were more common.
There is also, though,
another possibility. Indeed, there were more Cities of Refuge where there were
more murderers, and not only because the murderers would run there. In places
where there were more murderers, there was less concern for life — and this was
something that affected even those who would never contemplate deliberate
homicide. Those who were exiled were hardly murderers — they made a mistake!
They didn’t look carefully, they didn’t think carefully — but this very lack of
caution and concern for human life also enabled the lowest members of society
to contemplate murder.
We cannot imagine that
when we live in a world where not only common street criminals but corporate
executives engage in thievery, we will not be tempted to “borrow” that which is
not ours. And we cannot delude ourselves by thinking that we can expose
ourselves to thousands of murders per year on television and in movies, and we
will remain every bit as committed to the sanctity of life. We are, indeed,
creatures of our environment.
It is our responsibility,
then, to build a different environment – to remove poisonous influences from
our lives as much as possible, and to surround ourselves with role models,
friends and other influences that promote love, life, and holiness.
Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Yaakov Menken
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