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The Israel Koschitzky
Virtual Beit Midrash
Surf A Little Torah PARASHAT MATOT-MASEI Rav David Silverberg
Towards the beginning of the haftara for the second Shabbat of the "three
weeks," the prophet Yirmiyahu declares in the Name of God (Yirmiyahu 2:5), "What
have your forefathers found wrong in Me that they have distanced themselves from
Me, and followed futility and became futile?" The Almighty expresses wonder, as it
were, over the fact that Benei
Yisrael rejected Him in favor of
the powerless "gods" worshipped by the pagans. How might we explain the two expressions in
this verse, "they followed futility" ("ve-yeilkhu acharei ha-hevel") and "they became futile" ("va-yehbalu").
What does the prophet mean when he declares that Benei Yisrael "became futile"? Metzudat David explains that the term va-yehbalu refers to the state of decline into which the nation had fallen. Once a mighty, thriving empire during the time of David and Shelomo, by the end of the First Commonwealth – when Yirmiyahu lived and prophesied – Am Yisrael had become a small, minor country yielding little, if any, regional power and influence. Just as the gods they worshipped were hevel – powerless and insignificant – so had the Jewish state become hevel – a small, weak, almost insignificant country. Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary to the haftarot, suggests a different reading, which he introduces by claiming that this verse is "the shortest, most pertinent, most momentous and most touching epitaph on so many generations, Jewish and non-Jewish, of old and modern times." He explains that all resources and media enlisted in the pursuit of a certain goal are deemed a valuable investment only to the extent to which we can consider the goal a valuable one. If a person pursues a worthless or destructive goal, then all the time, effort and resources poured into that pursuit naturally become themselves futile. Even worse, a person who devotes his life to meaningless pursuits has stripped his life of its value and significance, to the point where his very existence can be described as "hevel," futility and worthlessness. The prophet here bemoans Benei Yisrael's pursuit of hevel – the values, beliefs and mores of the surrounding pagans – which rendered themselves hevel. Having devoted themselves to Godlessness, to the abandonment of their faith and traditions, and to the pursuit of paganism, they reduced their entire existence to one of hevel. Rav Mendel Hirsch adds that this notion applies as well to the pursuit of wealth as an objective unto itself. Material goods used for the benefit of mankind and in the service of God become hallowed, whereas material goods amassed for their own sake are nothing more than hevel and transform the individual's existence into one of hevel. As Rav Mendel writes: All external possessions and wealth and working to obtain them have worth and full justification if they are striven for, and used, as means for a pure human life devoted to duty. But striven for as an end in themselves they are futile, and giving oneself up in the endeavor to obtain them robs life of all true permanent worth. ******
In the haftara for the second Shabbat of the "three weeks," God
declares through the prophet Yirmiyahu (2:13), "For My nation has committed two
evils: they left Me, a source of flowing water, to hew for themselves cisterns –
broken cisterns that cannot contain water." Abandoning God is intrinsically evil and
an inexcusable act of betrayal, but Benei
Yisrael have committed an even
graver evil by abandoning God in favor of "broken cisterns," foreign nations and
beliefs that offer no benefit or security.
The word employed in this verse for "cisterns" is borot, a term generally translated as
"pits." Intriguingly, however, the
word is spelled with a silent letter alef, as if it were to read as be'eirot, or "wells." Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary to
the haftarot, insightfully suggests that this spelling
accurately reflects Am
Yisrael's mistaken perspective to
which the prophet here refers. A
bor, a "pit," is simply an empty hole in the
ground (as in "ve-ha-bor
reik" – Bereishit 37:24). A be'eir, however, is a hole that has been filled
with something of worth and substance – water. The prophet here decries the fact that
Benei Yisrael looked upon borot – worthless, hollow beliefs – as be'eirot – things of substance and meaning. Yirmiyahu therefore spelled the word
borot such that it externally resembles the word
be'eirot, alluding to the perception of value and
significance that attracted Benei
Yisrael to people and ideas that
were actually vacuous and valueless.
It is easy to misled by the importance afforded by general society to
ideas, personalities and activities that are, from a Torah perspective, of
little or no value. Indeed, empty
borot often give the deceptive appearance of
be'eirot, things of value, worth and substance. We must recall that what general society
deems important and central does not necessarily deserve our interest and
attention, and, conversely, values and pursuits dismissed or rejected by those
around us demand our loyalty and engagement if the Torah so requires. We must look to our tradition to
carefully distinguish between borot and be'eirot, between that which is hollow and
worthless, and that which is sacred and meaningful. ***** Parashat Matot tells of Benei Yisrael's successful battle against the nation of Midyan, and the enormous collection of spoils brought back from Midyan after the war. The army's generals approached Moshe upon their return from battle to announce their desire to donate gold jewelry seized from Midyan as a gift to the Mishkan: "We have offered an offering to the Lord – each man who discovered gold items…to atone for our souls before the Lord" (31:50).
Interestingly, the officers describe their donation in the past tense –
"We have offered an offering…" – as if it had already taken place, despite the
fact that they have come only now to bring the gold jewelry to Moshe. On the basis of this formulation, Ibn
Ezra and Rabbenu Bechayei explain that the officers refer here to their having
already declared the jewelry as hekdesh – consecrated for the
Rav Avraham Clearly, Ibn Ezra and Rabbenu Bachyei disagree. They claim that the officers had consecrated the gold jewelry – which was clearly intended for kodshei bedek ha-bayit – through either a verbal declaration or a non-verbal commitment, thus indicating that kodshei bedek ha-bayit, like kodshei mizbei'ach, can be consecrated non-verbally. Elsewhere (Rinat Yitzchak to Sefer Melakhim II 12:5), Rav Sorotzkin notes that Rashi appears to take different positions on this issue in two different contexts in his Talmud commentary. Commenting to Masekhet Chagiga (10a), Rashi writes that vows (both nedarim and shavu'ot) and hekdesh take effect only through a verbal declaration. In order to reconcile this remark with the aforementioned passage in Masekhet Shavuot, we must explain Rashi as referring specifically to kodshei bedek ha-bayit. The Gemara in Masekhet Shavuot explicitly allows for the designation of kodshei mizbei'ach status through a non-verbal commitment, and thus Rashi's comment requiring verbalization must refer to kodshei bedek ha-bayit. Rashi's comment would thus reflect the position espoused by the Ketzot, namely, that the status of kodshei bedek ha-bayit takes effect only through a verbal declaration.
Rashi appears to take a different position in his commentary to Masekhet
Shavuot (ibid.), where the Gemara equates hekdesh with teruma with
regard to the ability to create a status of sanctity through a non-verbal
commitment. Tosefot interpret the
term teruma in this context as a reference to terumat ha-keri, the
small percentage of produce that a farmer must donate annually to a
kohen. Rashi, however,
claims that teruma here refers
to the terumat ha-Mishkan, the donations brought by Benei Yisrael towards the construction of the Mishkan.
These materials clearly had the status of kodshei bedek ha-bayit, and yet, according to Rashi, they were
endowed with this status even without a verbal declaration, similar to kodshei mizbei'ach.
In this context, then, Rashi follows the view espoused by Ibn Ezra and
Rabbenu Bechayei, that even the status of kodshei bedek ha-bayit can be assigned to an object through a
non-verbal commitment. ******
The opening section of Parashat Matot presents the basic laws concerning
nedarim, vows, focusing primarily on a father or
husband's authority to annul vows taken by a daughter or wife,
respectively. In establishing the
annulment of a daughter or wife's vows, the Torah emphasizes that when a father
or husband declares a vow's annulment, "the Lord shall forgive her"
(30:6,13). The obvious question
arises, for what does she require forgiveness? Why must she be forgiven after her
father or husband annuls her vow? The Talmud (Masekhet Nazir 23a) famously cites Rabbi Akiva's interpretation of this clause, which it introduces by noting that Rabbi Akiva would weep when he read these words. Rabbi Akiva explained that this verse refers to a daughter or wife who uttered a vow and, unaware of the fact that her father or husband declared its annulment, violated her vow. Essentially, the woman did not commit a wrongful act, since the act was committed after the vow's annulment; on the other hand, she performed what she presumed at the time to be an act of sin. She requires forgiveness for her intention to transgress her vow, even though it turned out that the act was permissible. Rabbi Akiva would thus weep and exclaim upon reading this verse, ""If somebody who planned to take pig meat and in the end took sheep's meat requires atonement and forgiveness, somebody who planned to take pig meat and took pig meat – all the more so!" The fact that a woman in the aforementioned case, who committed no actual sin, requires forgiveness serves to underscore the accountability we each bear for the transgressions that we actually do commit.
The Gemara cites Rabbi Akiva's comments in reference to the Mishna there
in Masekhet Nazir which cites a debate concerning a woman's culpability in such
a case. The first view recorded in
the Mishna appears to absolve this woman of punishment altogether, whereas Rabbi
Yehuda claims that she is liable to makkat mardut – lashes mandated by the Sages. The Gemara's citation of Rabbi Akiva's
remarks appears to be intended to explain Rabbi Yehuda's view. The phrase, "the Lord shall forgive her"
indicates that the woman in fact bears a degree of guilt, since she had
committed what she presumed to be a forbidden act.
Tosefot in Masekhet Kiddushin (32a) make reference to the principle
established by Rabbi Akiva to reach an interesting halakhic ruling. The Gemara in Kiddushin records that Rav
Huna once tore costly garments in the presence of his son to determine the
extent of his son's respect for him, whether or not he would grow angry and
speak disrespectfully to his father.
Although it is forbidden to put somebody in a situation where he will
likely commit a sin, Rav Huna's test was nevertheless permissible because he
from the outset forewent on the honor due to him by his son. Hence, even if his son would grow angry
and speak disrespectfully, he would not be in violation of kibud av (honoring parents) because the father had
waived his right to demand respect and honor. Tosefot (s.v. de-machil) add that Rav Huna was allowed to test his
son in this fashion only if he informed his son that he had waived his rights to
honor and respect. As Rabbi Akiva
established in Masekhet Nazir, a person is held accountable even for permissible
conduct if at the time he presumes that he commits a sinful act. Hence, if Rav Huna's son was unaware
that his father had waived his rights to honor and nevertheless spoke
disrespectfully, he has acted wrongly given that he had intended to commit the
transgression of disrespecting parents. Rav Shlomo Zalman, Auerbach, in his Minchat Shelomo (35:4), applies this principle to other situations, including the case of a technician who comes to do work in a woman's home when her husband is nearby but not at home. Halakha forbids the seclusion of a man and a woman unless her husband is within the city. Based on Rabbi Akiva's principle, Rav Shlomo Zalman writes that the woman in such a case must inform the technician that her husband is in the area. If she does not, then even though the technician does not actually violate the prohibition of yichud (seclusion), he nevertheless acts wrongly in that he commits an act that he presumes to be forbidden. Likewise, Rav Shlomo Zalman ruled that a person who gives food to somebody who does not observe kashrut must inform him that the food is kosher. If the person thinks that he eats non-kosher food, he will be liable to punishment despite the fact that he eats kosher. It should be noted, however, that Rav Shlomo Zalman concludes this discussion by remarking, "ve-ha-davar tzarikh hekhra," meaning, this issue requires further analysis, and thus should not be taken as a definitive halakhic ruling. ****** Parashat Matot tells of the war waged by Benei Yisrael against Midyan and the enormous amounts of spoils they brought back with them to the Israelite camp. Upon the soldiers' return, Elazar, the kohen gadol, presented the instructions concerning what we generally call kashering, the process by which a utensil that had been used with non-kosher food is rendered suitable for use with kosher food. Since the utensils seized from the Midyanites had likely been used with non-kosher food, Elazar had to instruct the people how to "kasher" the utensils and render them suitable for use. The Ramban (31:23) famously raises the question of why these instructions were not conveyed earlier, after the war against Sichon and Og, which resulted in Benei Yisrael's seizure of these kingdoms' property. Then, too, Benei Yisrael took possession of utensils that had, presumably, been used with non-kosher food, seemingly warranting the presentation of the laws of kashering to enable them to use these utensils. The Ramban's question, and his answer to this question, has been subject to considerable discussion and debate among later writers, many of whom suggested very novel approaches to distinguish between the battles against Sichon and Og and the campaign against Midyan. Rav Hersh Yaar, in his Chamudei Tzvi (New York, 1973), suggests an explanation based on the famous and controversial ruling of the Rambam (Hilkhot Kil'ayim 10:27, Hilkhot Tum'at Met 9:12 and elsewhere) regarding the laws of sefeikot – halakhic uncertainties. A fundamental halakhic principle establishes that in situations of uncertainty concerning a Torah prohibition (as opposed to laws enacted by the Sages), one must assume the stricter possibility. Thus, for example, if a person is unsure about the status of a given food, which might be forbidden for consumption on the level of Torah law, he may not partake of the food. According to the Rambam, this law was enacted by the Sages. On the level of Torah law, one may rely on the lenient possibility in situations of doubt; it was Chazal who required that one act stringently in such situations when a Torah violation is at stake. Some Acharonim qualify the Rambam's theory, claiming that it does not apply in situations of "ikba isura" – where a prohibition was definitely involved. Meaning, if a person had before him forbidden and permissible pieces of meat, and at a certain point he does not remember which is forbidden and which is permissible, then even according to Torah law he must refrain from both pieces. Since forbidden food was undoubtedly present, Torah law forbids partaking of either piece, despite the uncertainty concerning his status. Rav Yaar creatively suggests applying this theory to answer the question posed by the Ramban concerning the status of the utensils seized during the battles against Sichon and Og. The Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (44b) establishes that (according to one view) after the battle against Midyan, only the utensils that had been used within the previous twenty-four hours required kashering. If a utensil had not been used within that time-frame, then the taste of forbidden food embedded in the utensil had already become spoiled and thus would not affect the kosher status of food prepared in that utensil. Hence, each utensil brought back from Midyan had the status of safeik – a halakhic doubt – as Benei Yisrael obviously had no way to determine whether or not it had been used within the last twenty-four hours, and thus whether or not it required kashering. Herein, Rav Yaar suggested, lies the distinction between the battle against Sichon and Og on the one hand, and the war against Midyan, on the other. The Torah writes that after the war with Midyan, the soldiers returned and brought all the spoils of war to Moshe (31:12). Moshe (or Elazar) thus had to issue a halakhic ruling concerning the collective status of all the spoils. Undoubtedly, some of these utensils had been used within the previous twenty-four hours, and thus this situation constituted a case of ikba isura: the status of each individual utensil was uncertain, but some utensils were assuredly forbidden for use before kashering. Therefore, the utensils were all deemed forbidden for use until the process of kashering, and Elazar thus conveyed to the people the guidelines for kashering. After the battle against Sichon and Og, by contrast, we find no reference to the spoils being collected and brought to a single location. Rather, individuals seized the utensils and other possessions and brought them home (or they simply moved into the Emorites' homes). Therefore, the status of each individual utensil was assessed independently, and, as mentioned, regarding each utensil it was uncertain whether it had been used within the previous twenty-four hours. As such, this was not a situation of ikba isura. According to the Rambam, then, Torah law permitted the use of these utensils, and there was therefore no need for Elazar to instruct the people with regard to the laws of kashering. (Rav Yaar compares this case to the famous situation of "shenei shevilin" discussed in the Mishna in Masekhet Taharot 8:5.) ******
In Parashat Masei the Torah introduces the law of arei miklat, the
cities of refuge that Benei Yisrael were to designate for the purpose of
ensuring the safety of those who had killed inadvertently. Surprisingly, God commands Benei Yisrael to designate three such cities in Eretz Yisrael proper, west of the Jordan River, and three
cities in the recently-captured territory of Eiver Ha-yarden, the region to the east of the
The Gemara (cited by Rashi, in his commentary here in Parashat Masei)
explains that the tribes living in Eiver Ha-yarden were more prone to violence and
murder. The prophet Hoshea (6:8)
speaks of Gilad – the major population center of Eiver Ha-yarden – as "a city of evildoers, tracked with
blood." The greater concentration
of murderers, the Gemara explains, accounts for the higher proportion of
arei miklat required. The obvious question arises as to why a higher rate of deliberate, premeditated murder would necessitate additional arei miklat, which provided refuge only for those who killed inadvertently. Even if the people of Eiver Ha-yarden displayed a greater tendency towards violence, why would this result in a higher rate of unintentional killing?
Rav Yisrael Be'eri, in his Kevoda
Shel Torah (
Possibly, Rav Be'eri suggests, it is on this basis that the Gemara
explained the reason for the higher concentration of arei miklat in the
region of Eiver Ha-yarden. A
higher rate of murder might result in a higher rate of murder of people who had
accidentally left their arei miklat, a situation that requires the
murderer to himself relocate in an ir miklat. Rav Be'eri adds that when the Gemara
cites the aforementioned verse in Hoshea as proof to the higher murder rate in
Gilad, it makes a point of explaining the term akuva mi-dam ("tracked
with blood") as a reference to ambushes, which were apparently common in the
Eiver Ha-yarden region. It
is possible that the Gemara seeks to emphasize that the people in this region
would wait outside arei miklat and ambush new arrivals who, unfamiliar
with the area, might accidentally wander outside the city's boundaries. Since these killers would then be
required to relocate in an ir miklat, this region required a higher
concentration of cities of refuge. It should be noted, however, that in his commentary to the Mishna (Makot 12a), the Rambam appears to take a different position. There he writes that if somebody accidentally leaves his city of refuge, one who kills him is liable to execution. Clearly, the Rambam here maintains that the intentional murder of somebody who inadvertently left his ir miklat is punishable with execution, and not with relocation in an ir miklat. Tomorrow we will iy"H discuss the Rambam's ruling further. ******* Yesterday, we discussed a passage in the Rambam's Hilkhot Rotzei'ach (5:11) concerning the laws of arei miklat – the cities designated as places where one who has inadvertently killed can escape the victim's vengeful relatives. The Torah in Parashat Masei (35:25) requires the murderer to flee to an ir miklat and remain there until the death of the kohen gadol; he may not leave the confines of the city before that point. Addressing
the case of a murderer who relocates in an ir miklat and then leaves the city, the Rambam
writes, "If he inadvertently left the boundary of his city of refuge, whoever
kills him…exiles [to a city of refuge] on his account. If he killed him within the boundary of
his city of refuge…he is killed on his account." In the second ruling in this passage,
the Rambam writes that one who kills the murderer inside the ir miklat is liable to execution, which clearly
indicates that he speaks here of intentional murder. Yet, in the first sentence in this
passage, he writes that "whoever kills" the murderer if he accidentally leaves
the city must himself relocate to a city of refuge. This appears to suggest that in this
case – where a killer had to relocate to an ir miklat and was killed when he
accidentally wandered outside the city's boundaries – even an intentional killer
must relocate to an ir miklat.
Although arei miklat
generally serve specifically those who have killed inadvertently, one might
infer from the Rambam's comments that in this particular case, even one who
killed intentionally must relocate in an ir miklat. A number of Acharonim, however, dismissed outright such a possibility, that in this case even one who kills intentionally must flee to an ir miklat. These Acharonim include the Minchat Chinukh (410) and the Chavot Yair (146). In their view, when a person in an ir miklat accidentally leaves the city's borders he becomes like anybody else with respect to murder, and somebody who intentionally murders him is liable to execution just as in all cases of murder. Although the Rambam wrote that "anybody" who kills such a person relocates to an ir miklat, he must speak only of somebody who kills unintentionally.
Indeed, it seems difficult to understand why this case should differ from
other cases of intentional murder, such that the killer is ordered to live in an
ir miklat rather than face
execution. According to the
straightforward reading of the Rambam's comments, what might be the basis for
such a ruling? The Aruch Ha-shulchan (C.M. 425:42) suggests, quite simply, that all murders committed in such a case are treated by Halakha as unintentional. A killer bears guilt for killing somebody who left his ir miklat only he left the city inadvertently, without realizing that he had crossed the city's border. If somebody who had to relocate in an ir miklat leaves the city intentionally, then a person who kills him – even intentionally – is not liable to punishment for murder. (This is the Rambam's ruling in the previous halakha, based on one version of the text of the Mishna in Masekhet Makot 11b.) Now when a person leaves an ir miklat, those who see him have no way of knowing whether he had left intentionally or inadvertently, and they thus do not know his status with regard to murder. In a certain sense, then, even intentional murders in such a case may be seen as unintentional, in that the killer was unaware that the victim had left the ir miklat accidentally. He had likely presumed that the victim had left intentionally, in which case he has in essence "allowed" himself to be killed. One might question this approach, however, in light of the fact that even if one leaves an ir miklat intentionally, it does not become permissible to kill him. The Rambam writes (ibid. 5:10) that when a person leaves an ir miklat intentionally, a go'el ha-dam – a relative of his victim – is permitted to kill him, and "if anybody else killed him he is not liable to death." The Rambam clearly distinguishes between a go'el ha-dam – who may kill the individual in such a case – and others, who may not kill him, even though he had left the city intentionally. Although one who does kill him does not incur the death penalty, it seems clear that the act is still forbidden. Accordingly, one might question the Arukh Ha-shulchan's assertion that anytime a person who accidentally left his ir miklat is killed the murder is deemed "unintentional." Since the Torah forbids killing a person who left the ir miklat even intentionally, we have no reason, it seems, to deem the murder unintentional just because the killer mistakenly assumed that the victim had left the city intentionally. |