PARASHAT MATOT MASEI

By Rav David Silverberg

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Dedicated in memory of Rav Yehuda Leib z"l, whose yahrzeit is Tuesday, 22 Tammuz, July 14^th.

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In loving memory of Ya’acov Ben Yitzchak (A”H), beloved father and grandfather,
whose yahrzeit is the 25th of Tammuz. Dedicated by: Stanley & Ellen Stone and their children,
Jacob, Zack, Ezra, Yoni, Eliana and Gabi.

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            We find in Parashat Masei a section dealing with various laws of murder, particularly those relevant to unintentional murder (chapter 35).  One who kills unintentionally is required to relocate in an ir miklat, or city of refuge, and remain there until the death of the kohen gadol.  In the city he would be protected from vengeful relatives of the victim.

            Toward the end of this section, we find a pair of verses in which the Torah warns the authorities not to accept monetary fines in place of the prescribed punishments for killers: “Do not accept ransom for the life of a murderer who is guilty [and liable] to death – for he shall surely die.  And do not accept ransom for the escape to his city of refuge, [so that he may] return to reside in the land before the kohen dies” (35:31-32).  In the case of intentional murder, which the Torah treats as a capital crime punishable by death, the authorities must not accept payment in lieu of execution.  In the case of unintentional murder, the authorities must not accept payment in lieu of the killer’s required residence in the ir miklat.

            It might seem odd, at first glance, that the Torah speaks of these two situations in similar terms, as though the consequence of fleeing to a city of refuge after an unintentional murder corresponds to the capital punishment administered after an intentional murder.  Can these two cases really be compared?  Can we really speak of accidental murder with the same level of severity as intentional murder?

            The answer, as noted by Rav Amnon Bazak, appears in the very next verse, when the Torah explains why monetary restitution cannot serve in lieu of punitive measures: “You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and the land can have no expiation for the blood that is shed on it, except by the blood of him who shed it.  You shall not defile the land in which you live, in which I Myself abide…” (35:33-34). The Torah describes an immediate “polluting” effect caused by spilt blood: “for blood pollutes the land.”  Apparently, the event of one person dying as a result of another inherently undermines the sacred quality of Eretz Yisrael.  Even if this occurred unintentionally, the harm has been done to the land’s sanctity, and this harm must be rectified through some process of atonement.

            In the case of intentional murder, of course, atonement is achieved through capital punishment.  Such punishment obviously cannot be imposed upon an accidental killer, and the Torah therefore instituted the concept of ir miklat, where the killer lives until the kohen gadol’s death.  Rav Bazak suggests associating this halakha with the general role of the kohen gadol to bring atonement to the people.  The kohen gadol performs the special atonement rituals on Yom Kippur on behalf of the nation, and he similarly earns atonement to purify the land that was contaminated by murder.

            Rav Bazak notes in this context a third situation of murder that requires a special form of expiation, namely, when the murderer cannot be found, in which case the kohanim conduct the egla arufa ceremony to earn atonement (Devarim 21).  This, too, attests to the contaminating effect of murder upon the land, which must be reversed through atonement.

            It thus emerges that the sanctity of Eretz Yisrael is so integrally bound to the concept of kindness and mutual respect among the nation that even an unintentional murder threatens to undermine this quality.  The land was designated as the home for the nation that would embody the ideals of peace and loving kindness, the ability of people to work with and for one another so that they all could live in happiness and security.  The incident of an innocent person losing his life as a result of another directly opposes this goal, and thus has a “defiling” effect which must be reversed through the process of atonement.

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            The Torah in Parashat Matot tells the story of the tribes of Reuven and Gad, who asked for the right to permanently settle in the lush, verdant region east of the Jordan River that Benei Yisrael had recently captured from the Emorites.  Ever since the Exodus (or, perhaps more precisely, since God’s covenant with Avraham – Bereishit 15:16), the plan was for all Benei Yisrael to settle in the land across the river, where Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov had lived.  Reuven and Gad, however, who are described as laden with sheep and cattle (32:1), decided that the pastures of Trans-Jordan were more suited for their needs, and therefore requested permission to make this region their permanent homeland.  Moshe initially berated the tribes for what he perceived as their rejection of God’s promise, comparing them to the generation of the spies that refused to proceed to Eretz Yisrael.  Reuven and Gad then explained that their men would first cross the river together with the other tribes to help them conquer the promised territory, and only then return to their families and property east of the Jordan River.  God instructed Moshe to grant the tribes’ request.

            There is considerable discussion among later writers regarding the reason for Moshe’s caustic response to Reuven and Gad’s request, and as to whether they indeed acted wrongly by preferring to settle in the former Emorite kingdom rather than across the river with the other tribes.  Rav Dovid Horwitz (http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/735679/Rabbi_David_Horwitz/Parshat_Matot-Masei:_The_Choice_of_the_Tribe_of_Reuben) noted that at least in the case of Reuven, we might gain some insight into the tribe’s mistake by drawing a typological association between the tribe and their ancestor, Yaakov’s oldest son, Reuven.  Before his death, Yaakov announces that Reuven forfeited his right to leadership by committing the sin with Bilha (Bereishit 49:3-4).  When referring to Reuven’s sin, interestingly enough, Yaakov focuses on the element of reckless haste, which he apparently viewed as the root cause of Reuven’s wrongdoing: “You were hasty as water, so you shall not excel…”  Reuven, as Chazal explain, acted with noble intentions, but he acted hastily and miscalculated.  Had he thought about the situation with more care and patience, he would have reconsidered.

            Rav Horwitz proposes extending the principle of “ma’aseh avot siman la-banim” (“that which happened to the patriarchs is a sign for the offspring”) to Reuven’s descendants, who requested permanent residence east of the Jordan River.  Seeing the green pastures of Trans-Jordan, the people of Reuven grew impatient, and did not want to wait any longer before setting up their permanent homes and stables.  Their impatience led them to prefer the current land to the land of the patriarchs across the river.  Like their ancestor, they were “hasty as water” in making important decisions, rather than carefully weighing and calculating all factors and considerations before arriving at far-reaching conclusions.

            First impressions and knee-jerk reactions are not always reliable.  The story of Reuven – both the individual and the tribe – should perhaps remind us to approach all important decisions in life with patience, diligence and an open mind, to ensure that we act based on thought and reason, rather than raw instinct and misleading first impressions.

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            Parashat Masei begins by listing all the stations in which Benei Yisrael encamped throughout their years of travels, from the Exodus until their final encampment along the Jordan River.  The commentaries offer different approaches to explain the purpose behind this listing.  Rashi comments that this list serves “to inform about the kindnesses of the Almighty.”  For most of the forty-year period of travel, Rashi demonstrates, Benei Yisrael were not unduly burdened.  They embarked only twenty times during the middle thirty-eight years, as God did not wish to cause them excessive inconvenience through frequent, short encampments.  This list is this presented as a reflection of God’s love for Benei Yisrael.  Even though He punished the people as a result of the sin of the spies and made them travel about the wilderness for forty years, He nevertheless showed them care and concern throughout this period.

            Seforno comments that this section was added to demonstrate not God’s love for His people, but rather the people’s love for Him: “The Almighty, may He be blessed, wanted Israel’s travels to be recorded to inform of their merit in following Him in an unsown desert, such that they would be worthy of inheriting the land.”  Seforno draws upon Yirmiyahu’s famous prophecy (2:2) in which God makes mention of Benei Yisrael’s eternal merit for loyally following Him into and through the desert, despite the harsh conditions.  It seems that, according to Seforno, Benei Yisrael accrued reward for every encampment and disembarkation during this period, for every stage of this forty-year period.  God wanted this process to be formally documented here in Parashat Masei as an eternal testament to the faith and devotion Benei Yisrael displayed by following God through an arid, barren wilderness.

            The period of desert travel likely represents the fact that our loyalty to God must remain firm even in the “wilderness,” even under trying and difficult circumstances.  Not always does God lead us to lush, green pastures; Torah commitment does not guarantee a person unbridled success or a life free of hassles and challenges.  Sometimes, when we follow God we must pass through “an unsown land,” periods of hardship.  And, like Benei Yisrael in the wilderness, we might not always successful in confronting these challenges; we might at times grow weary and impatient from the travails that we encounter along the road of Torah life, just as Benei Yisrael grew exasperated and protested at several points during their experiences in the wilderness.  But here in Parashat Masei the Torah attests to the fact that overall, Benei Yisrael remained steadfastly loyal in their commitment to follow the Almighty through thick and thin, providing an instructive and inspiring model of unwavering loyalty despite the sacrifices that are often entailed.  Even when Torah observance takes us through a “wilderness,” when it poses challenges and difficulties, we nevertheless continue moving forward, confident that this road will ultimately lead us to the “Promised Land” of spiritual fulfillment.

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            Earlier this week, we discussed the Torah’s comments in Parashat Masei with which it concludes the section dealing with the laws of murder.  The Torah summarizes these laws by warning against accepting monetary payment in lieu of punishment, whether its execution (for intentional murder) or relocation in a city of refuge (for unintentional murder).  Then the Torah proceeds to explain the reason for this law – alluding as well to the reason why these halakhot are presented to Benei Yisrael here, as they prepare to enter the land: “You shall not defile the land in which you are dwelling, in which I reside…” (35:34).  Tolerating bloodshed – even unintentional murder – has the effect of undermining the sacred quality of Eretz Yisrael, and thus part of the nation’s responsibility while living in Eretz Yisrael is to atone for every instance of bloodshed that arises.  Accordingly, as part of the people’s preparations for entering the land, they must be instructed these guidelines for purifying the land after it becomes contaminated by spilt blood.

            Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, in his Torah commentary, draws an interesting association between the Torah’s discussion of murder here in Parashat Masei and the discussion of murder found in Parashat Noach (Bereishit 9:5-6).  There, the warning against murder is presented as part of God’s instructions to Noach upon his emergence from the ark after the flood.  The purpose of this warning, as Rav Hirsch explains, is to impress upon the builders of the new world that their rights to it and its resources depend upon their respect for the basic rights of other people:

At the moment when God allowed Noah and his sons to tread again on the re-gifted earth and handed over to them the vegetable and animal life on it at their free disposition He proclaimed…the validity of the inviolable higher dignity of the likeness of God in Man as the fundamental condition for the use of this gift and this free right of disposal.

Here, in Parashat Masei, Benei Yisrael find themselves in a position that corresponds to the situation of Noach and his family after the flood.  They, like Noach, are given a land for them to build, cultivate and develop.  And, like Noach, their rights to this land are contingent upon their commitment to certain ideals.  Rav Hirsch writes:

At the moment when God handed over to Israel the land as the base for their richly blessed development for making His Torah a reality…He renewed the same proclamation for Israel as the fundamental condition for the blessed possession and blessed enjoyment and use of that land.

            The difference, of course, lies in the fact that Benei Yisrael are given laws that govern even situations of accidental murder.  Their rights to the land demand that they not only refrain from willful hostility, but also make an active effort to preserve the well-being of others and take precautions to ensure not to cause them harm even mistakenly.  Whereas the privilege granted to human beings to tread on the earth depends upon their respecting each other’s basic rights to life, the privilege given to Am Yisrael to live in Eretz Yisrael depends upon their commitment to even higher ethical standards.  In this land, people are held accountable not only for malicious, hostile mistreatment of others, but even for neglect and oversight that results in accidental death.  Our nation has been given this special land not to apply the normal standards of ethical behavior, but rather to create a model society that represents God through the proactive care and concern shown to other people.  Eretz Yisrael’s potential for “contamination” demands that its inhabitants exercise particular care and caution in their interpersonal conduct, above and beyond the standards that apply in other parts of the world.

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            The Torah in Parashat Masei (chapter 35) establishes the requirement that Benei Yisrael designate arei miklat, cities of refuge for people who accidentally murdered.  The straightforward reading of this section (35:13-14) indicates that there were only six cities designated for this purpose, three on either side of the Jordan River.  However, the Gemara in Masekhet Makot (10a) establishes that in truth, all forty-eight Levite cities served as cities of refuge for accidental killers.  In the previous section in Parashat Masei (35:1-8), God commands Benei Yisrael to allocate forty-eight cities for the Levite tribe, and that these forty-eight cities included the six major cities of refuge.  According to the Gemara, even the other forty-two cities provided refuge for inadvertent killers.  The Gemara reaches this conclusion on the basis of the verse’s description of the forty-two cities as additions to the six major cities of refuge (34:6).  The only difference between the six primary arei miklat and the others, the Gemara explains, is that the six primary cities provide refuge even if the killer did not go there with this intent.  Although he did not realize that he could seek refuge from his victim’s relatives by moving into these cities, his mere presence in one of these cities grants him protection.  When it comes to the other forty-two cities, the Gemara comments, the killer is granted protection only if he resides in one of these cities with this purpose in mind.

            Later (Makot 13a), the Gemara adds another difference between the six main cities and the other forty-two.  When a killer relocates to one of the six major arei miklat, he may live there free of charge, and the Leviyim landlords cannot demand rental payments.  In the other forty-two cities, however, killers seeking refuge can (according to one view in the Mishna) be expected to pay rent to the owners of their residences.

            A number of later writers have noted that the Talmud Yerushalmi does not appear to follow this position.  For one thing, the inference made by the Talmud Bavli in establishing this provision does not appear anywhere in the Yerushalmi.  Moreover, the Yerushalmi (Makot 2:6) cites a comment of Rabbi Yochanan dispelling the possibility of a murderer gaining refuge in the Beit Ha-mikdash, and Rabbi Yochanan concludes, “Only the six cities of refuge protect [a murderer].”  The clear implication of this remark is that there were only six cities of refuge, and not forty-eight, as the Bavli maintains.  This is the position taken by the Ramban in his Torah commentary (35:14), and the Radbaz, in one of his responsa (1:2138), explains that the Ramban advanced this position on the basis of the Yerushalmi.  Rav Saadia Gaon, too, in his listing of the mitzvot, speaks of only six cities of refuge, rather than forty-eight (vol. 3, p. 211 in the standard editions).

            Interestingly, Rav Yerucham Perlow, in his commentary to Rav Saadia Gaon’s listing of the mitzvot, notes that the Yerushalmi may not have necessarily disagreed with the Talmud Bavli on this point.  Rabbenu Chananel, in his commentary to Masekhet Makot (12a), cites the aforementioned comment of Rabbi Yochanan recorded in the Yerushalmi.  However, Rabbenu Chananel cites a slightly different version of this comment than that which appears in standard editions of the Yerushalmi: “Only the cities of refuge protect.”  Rabbenu Chananel’s version omits the word “six,” and does not specify any number.  According to this version, then, there is no explicit mention in the Talmud Yerushalmi of specifically six cities of refuge, thus allowing for the possibility that both Talmuds accepted the view that all forty-eight Levite cities granted protection to accidental killers.

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            As we discussed yesterday, the Torah in Parashat Masei introduces the obligation to designate forty-eight cities in Eretz Yisrael for the residence of the Leviyim.  The Levite tribe, unlike the other tribes, was not assigned a block of territory in the Land of Israel.  Instead, the other tribes allotted from their territory forty-eight cities where the kohanim and Leviyim lived.  According to the Talmud (Makot 10a), all forty-eight cities functioned as arei miklat, cities of refuge where accidental killers would live in safety and be protected from vengeful relatives of the victim.  (We also saw that the Talmud Yerushalmi appeared to have held that only six of the Levites’ forty-eight cities served as arei miklat.)

            Why would the Torah require that specifically the Leviyim’s cities would serve the function of arei miklat?

            The Sefer Ha-chinukh (408) initially suggests that since the kohanim and Leviyim were generally the nation’s spiritual elite, their cities were best capable of providing atonement for accidental murder.  The Levite tribe’s cities, the Chinukh writes, were endowed with the special sanctity of that tribe, and these lands were thus most suitable for taking in killers requiring atonement for their carelessness.

            The Chinukh then suggests a different explanation, noting that the Leviyim excelled in the area of character refinement and sensitivity:

As they were compassionate people, known for refined characters and respected wisdom, it was known to all that they would  not despise the killer who would seek refuge with them and they would not harm him, even if he killed one of their loved ones or relatives, since he killed him suddenly, without malicious intent…

The residents of the arei miklat had to be exceptionally kind, sensitive and understanding, such that they would accept the killer warmly and invitingly, and not look upon him with disdain or rejection.  Ordinary people might feel uneasy about welcoming inadvertent killers into their community, and would not treat them kindly.  This is especially so if a resident happened to be a relative of the victim; he would naturally be inclined to treat the newcomer inhospitably, resentful over his carelessness which resulted in the relative’s death.  God therefore ordained that specifically the Levites’ cities would serve as the arei miklat, as the Leviyim, the nation’s spiritual elite figures, could be expected to treat the fugitives more tolerantly than other members of the nation would.

            Ironically, according to the Chinukh, it was specifically the tribe that excelled in Torah observance that was expected to respond most forgivingly to the nation’s criminals.  We might have thought that those most devoted and strictly committed to the Torah’s legal and moral codes would find it most difficult to be tolerant and accepting of lower standards.  According to the Sefer Ha-chinukh, however, the precise opposite is true: the nation’s spiritual elite were the ones best equipped to overcome the natural feelings of hostility toward violators, and to welcome them with warmth and compassion.

            What this might demonstrate is the centrality that the Chinukh afforded to proper middot within the Torah’s value system.  Sensitivity and acceptance of people’s shortcomings are so integral a part of Torah commitment that those who excel in Torah observance should be expected to act most kindly to those who fall short in their Torah observance.  High religious standards must not result in arrogant, condescending disdain for those on the lower rungs.  Quite to the contrary, excellence in Torah must mean excellence in sensitivity and compassion toward other people – an integral component of the personality which Torah study and observance ought to develop within a person.

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            We read in Parashat Matot of the battle Benei Yisrael waged against the nation of Midyan.  In describing this campaign, the Torah emphasizes that Pinchas, the son of Elazar, the kohen gadol, accompanied the soldiers in the battlefield.  Despite the fact that the tribe of Levi participated in this battle (Rashi, 31:4, citing the Sifrei), and it should therefore not surprise us that a kohen took part in the war, the Torah found it necessary to specify that Pinchas played a role.  Apparently, Pinchas would not have ordinarily been conscripted for the battle against Midyan, but nevertheless took part to serve a special role.

Rashi cites several different approaches taken by Chazal to explain the purpose behind Pinchas’ participation in this war, including his avenging the sale of Yosef.  Pinchas’ mother is identified in Sefer Shemot (6:25) as a “daughter of Putiel,” and the Gemara in Masekhet Sota (43a) understands “Putiel” as a reference to Yosef.  As we know from Sefer Bereishit (36:37), Midyan was the nation that sold Yosef as a slave to Egypt.  Pinchas, a descendant of Yosef, was thus invited to take part in the battle against Midyan to avenge that nation’s role in the mistreatment of his ancestor.

This comment, which Rashi cites from the Sifrei and the Gemara, appears to afford particular significance to Midyan’s role in the sale of Yosef, a role that we might have otherwise viewed as marginal.  At least according to the conventional reading of the mekhirat Yosef narrative (Bereishit 37), Yosef’s brothers sold Yosef as a slave to Yishmaelite salesmen, who then sold him to Midyanite merchants.  Those Midyanites, in turn, sold Yosef to Egypt.  By the time the Midyanim entered the scene, Yosef had already been humiliated and condemned to living as slave.  The Midyanites’ role involved simply transferring Yosef from the service of the Yishmaelites to the service of the Egyptians.  Once Yosef had already become a slave, why did the Midyanites deserve to be punished for purchasing him and then selling him to Egypt?

One answer, perhaps, is that this comment of Chazal serves as a basis for the Rashbam’s view (Bereishit 37:25), that it was the Midyanite merchants, and not Yosef’s brothers, who initially sold Yosef as a slave.  The Rashbam claimed that after Yosef’s brothers cast him into the pit, they moved away from the pit, and, as they discussed the plan to sell him as a slave, the Midyanite merchants coincidentally passed by the pit.  Unbeknownst to the brothers, the merchants pulled Yosef from the pit and then sold Yosef as a slave to the Yishmaelites, who later sold Yosef to Egypt.  According to the Rashbam, the Midyanites indeed played a seminal role in the process of mekhirat Yosef, as it was they who lifted Yosef from the pit and sold him into slavery.  We might therefore suggest that the view among Chazal claiming that Pinchas joined the battle to avenge the Midyanites’ mistreatment of Yosef perhaps reflects this position of the Rashbam.

The Taz, in his Divrei David, explains Rashi’s comments differently.  He proposes a theory that the Midyanim sold Yosef, rather than keeping him among themselves as a servant, because they recognized his unusual gifts and talents, and feared he would rise to power.  They suspected that Yosef, even if he currently worked as a slave, would find a way to climb through the ranks and emerge as a powerful leader.  The Midyanim therefore chose to sell Yosef to Egypt, where, as Chazal mention, the law disqualified slaves from becoming rulers.  The decision to sell Yosef to Egypt, the Taz suggests, was made specifically in the interest of ensuring that Yosef’s talents would never be materialized.  Thus, Midyan’s sale of Yosef to the Egyptians was, indeed, a malicious act that warranted revenge at the hands of Yosef’s descendant.

Rav Matis Blum, in his Torah La-da’at, notes that the Taz’s comments perhaps emphasize the gravity of thwarting other people’s growth and the actualization of their potential.  According to the Taz, Midyan was held accountable for seeking to sabotage Yosef’s future of successful leadership.  One of the greatest crimes a person can commit is to interfere with other people’s development and not allow them to reach their full potential.  Conversely, then, one of the greatest and most valuable acts of kindness a person can perform is to help others maximize their potential and achieve to the fullest extent of their capabilities.