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S.A.L.T. PARASHAT MASEI
By Rav David Silverberg
In memory of Rav Yehuda Leib Silverberg z"l,
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In loving memory of Fred Stone, Yaakov Ben Yitzchak A”H
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Motzaei Shabbat
Parashat Masei tells of the arei miklat, the six
“cities of refuge” that God commanded Benei Yisrael to designate for the
benefit of people who accidentally kill somebody and must flee from the victim’s
vengeful relatives.
Benei Yisrael were instructed to allocate three such cities in the area of
Eiver Ha-yarden – east of the Jordan
River, which was settled by Reuven, Gad and half the tribe of Menashe – and
another three in the mainland of Eretz
Yisrael, west of the river.
Rashi (35:14), citing from the Gemara (Makot 10a), famously noted that
this arrangement seems wholly disproportionate, as the
two-and-a-half tribes east of
the river received the same number of arei
miklat as the nine-and-a-half tribes
west of the Jordan. The Gemara
explains that this arrangement testifies to the preponderance of murder among
the tribes east of the
Later writers addressed the question of why a high murder rate would
affect the demand for arei miklat.
These cities served only those who killed inadvertently; an intentional
murderer was not offered refuge in the arei miklat. Why, then, would additional arei
miklat be necessary in societies
with a high rate of intentional murders?
The Ramban addresses this question in his commentary to this section
(35:14), and suggests that in the Trans-Jordanian region there were many
murderers who staged their crimes as accidents.
Hence, this region needed a disproportionately high number of
arei miklat to accommodate both inadvertent killers and intentional killers who
disguised themselves as inadvertent killers.
The Maharal, in his
Gur Aryeh,
disputes the Ramban’s explanation.
He argues that to the contrary, a widespread phenomenon of murders staged as
accidents should be reason to limit, rather than increase, the number of
arei miklat. According to the Ramban’s
theory, God should have specifically reduced the availability of protection for
accidental killers in order to discourage murderers from killing under the guise
of accidents.
The Maharal then cites a different possible explanation from his brother,
Rav Sinai of Prague.
Chazal
comment that in cases of accidental or intentional murders that occur without
witnesses, God ensures that the perpetrators nevertheless receive their due
punishment. He arranges that an
intentional killer happens to be together in the same place as an inadvertent
killer, and, in view of onlookers, the inadvertent killer accidentally kills the
intentional murderer. The
intentional murder thus suffers the fate that he deserved – death – while the
unintentional murderer, who was required to relocate in a city of refuge, would
now be forced to relocate through the testimony of onlookers. Hence, in societies with many
murderers, God has to orchestrate many accidental murders to bring retribution
upon the willful killers, and this accounts for the disproportionately high
number of arei
miklat
in the region of Eiver Ha-yarden.
The Maharal himself suggests a much different explanation, claiming that
in a society plagued by violent crime, we can expect to find a preponderance of
fatal accidents. In such a society,
where there is insufficient respect and concern for human life, people are not
likely to take necessary precautions to prevent accidental deaths. Thus, indeed, a region that produces
a disproportionately high number of murderers will also witness a
disproportionately high number of accidental murders, thus necessitating
additional arei miklat.
The Ramban, after discussing the Gemara’s comment, suggests an entirely
different reason for why three cities of refuge were needed in Eiver
Ha-yarden. Quite simply,
Eiver Ha-yarden was a very big region.
Although it was populated by only two-and-a-half tribes, it was large
enough to require three arei miklat so that inadvertent killers would have relatively easy access to the
protection they require. Therefore,
the distribution of arei miklat was not disproportionate at all, as the
size of Eiver Ha-yarden warranted three cities.
Sunday
Parashat Masei begins with the listing of the forty-two stations where
Benei Yisrael encamped
during their forty years of travel, tracing their journeys from the Exodus to
the banks of the
The Or Ha-chayim, commenting on the parasha’s opening verse, references the
well-known Kabbalistic notion that the period of desert travel was intended for
the purpose of “revealing the sparks of sanctity.” The desert, he explains, fell under
the control of the hostile spiritual forces of impurity, and therefore
Benei Yisrael, after having undergone
a process of purification during the Egyptian bondage, were forced to traverse
the wilderness to “redeem” these areas from their spiritual contamination. These forty-two stations named in
Parashat Masei were the areas that required Benei Yisrael’s encampment to
achieve spiritual redemption.
The Or Ha-chayim’s comments touch upon esoteric Kabbalistic
concepts, but they may also present us with a clear and simple lesson relevant
to everyday life. We, like
Benei Yisrael in the forty years after the Exodus,
often find ourselves in “places” where we did not expect, intend or want to be. Life has a way of thrusting us into
situations and circumstances that we would have much preferred to avoid. Even if we cannot properly understand
or relate to the Kabbalistic notion of “revealing the sparks of sanctity,” we
can certainly learn and apply the lesson of recognizing the meaning and
significance of any situation in which we find ourselves. As much as we try to chart our
course, we will invariably, at one point or another, end up in the “wilderness,”
in strange, unfamiliar and undesirable circumstances. The Kabbalistic notion of the “sparks
of holiness,” at least in its simplistic sense, teaches us that these
circumstances should be approached as opportunities, not misfortunes. Wherever we are – both geographically
and figuratively – there are “sparks,” opportunities to achieve something
meaningful and productive. Although
we would have preferred to proceed directly to “Eretz Yisrael,” enjoying lives of unbridled peace, stability and
serenity, reality brings us through an unpredictable “wilderness” of unplanned,
and at times unpleasant, experiences.
Our challenge is to find the “sparks,” the opportunities for personal
growth and meaningful achievement at every “station” in this “desert,” to ensure
to make the most of every situation in which we find ourselves – including those
which we would have ideally wanted to avoid.
Monday
Parashat Masei concludes with the petition brought to Moshe by the family
of Gilad concerning the daughters of Tzlofchad, a deceased member of their
family. Earlier in Sefer Bamidbar
(27:7), God commanded Moshe to allocate Tzlofchad’s portion of Eretz Yisrael
to his five daughters. The family of
Gilad expressed their concern that if Tzlofchad’s daughters marry men from other
tribes, then this territory would be permanently lost from Tzlofchad’s tribe –
Menashe – because it would be inherited by the sons of those men. God instructed Moshe that Tzlofchad’s
daughters should marry within the tribe, so that the tribe of Menashe would not
forfeit this property, adding that “every daughter who receives an
inheritance…shall be wife [only] to someone from a family of her father’s tribe”
(36:8). Meaning, anytime a man dies
and leaves behind only daughters, without sons, such that the daughters inherit
his estate, they should marry only within their father’s tribe.
We find in the Gemara (Bava Batra 120a) surprising interpretations to
both these instructions – the instruction to Tzlofchad’s daughters, and the
general rule established regarding all women who receive an inheritance from
their fathers. Concerning
Tzlofchad’s daughters, the Gemara writes that they were not actually required to
marry within the tribe. When God
said to Moshe, “They shall be wives to whomever they please, but they shall be
wives to [somebody from] the family of their father’s tribe” (36:6), He merely
advised them to marry within their tribe, but this was not actually
required. (And Tzlofchad’s daughters
took this advice and married their cousins – 36:11.) Secondly, with regard to the general
command, the Gemara explains that it was intended only for that generation, the
generation that entered Eretz Yisrael.
In future generations, there is no prohibition for a woman who received
her father’s inheritance to marry a member of a different tribe.
A number of writers noted that Rav Saadia Gaon, surprisingly enough,
includes this command, forbidding a portion of Eretz Yisrael to be
transferred from one tribe to another, in his listing of the Torah’s 613
mitzvot. The inclusion of this
command appears to stand in direct opposition to the Gemara’s explicit comment
that the command was intended only for the generation that entered Eretz
Yisrael. (See Rav Yerucham
Perlow’s work on Saadia Gaon’s listing of the mitzvot, vol. 3, 27.)
One possible explanation for Saadia Gaon’s view emerges from a
distinction drawn by the Ramban in his commentary to these verses here in
Parashat Masei. The Ramban claims
that the Torah establishes two separate rules.
First, it commands that if an unmarried woman receives her father’s
inheritance, and then wishes to marry, she must marry within her father’s tribe. The verse “every daughter who
receives an inheritance…shall be wife [only] to someone from a family of her
father’s tribe” refers specifically to this situation – where a woman received
her father’s inheritance before she marred. But in the next verse – “A portion
shall not be transferred from one tribe to another tribe” – the Torah addresses
the situation of a woman whose father died without sons after she had
married a man from a different tribe.
The Torah commands that in such a case, the father’s estate should not be
given to his daughter, but should instead be given to his relatives (brothers,
uncles, etc.) so that it does not become part of a different tribe.
In light of the Ramban’s comments, it becomes likely that Saadia Gaon
understood the Gemara as referring to one of these two rules, and he listed the
other as an everlasting mitzva.
When the Gemara made its comment that the prohibition established in this parasha applied only in that generation, it
cited the verse, “every daughter who receives an inheritance…shall be
wife [only] to someone from a family of her father’s tribe.” Saadia Gaon apparently understood
that only the requirement for a woman receiving an inheritance to marry within
her tribe was restricted to that generation.
However, the rule established in the next verse, that a woman married to
a man from a different tribe does not inherit her father’s estate, because
property must remain within its original tribe, indeed applies for all time. It thus emerges, according to Saadia
Gaon, that an unmarried woman whose father dies without sons, and who thus
inherits the estate, may marry a man from a different tribe, but after her
death, the estate goes to her husband’s family.
The prohibition for a woman to marry outside the tribe in this case does
not apply for all time, but the provision ensuring that her father’s estate
remains within his tribe does apply (according to Saadia Gaon). Thus, if she marries outside her
tribe, the inherited property must return to her husband’s family after her
death, so that it does not end up being the permanent holding of a different
tribe.
(Based on an
article by Rav Yaakov David Ilan of Yeshivat Kenesset Yitzchak in Chadera, in
the volume Ner Le-chad)
Tuesday
Parashat Masei discusses the laws of the
arei miklat, the “cities of refuge” that were
designated for the protection of those who inadvertently kill somebody. The Torah requires an inadvertent
killer to relocate to an ir miklat; his residence in the city serves not
only as protection from angry relatives of the victim, but also to atone for the
loss of life that the individual mistakenly caused. He must remain in the city until the
kohen gadol’s death.
Toward the conclusion of this section, the Torah writes, “These [laws]
shall be for you as a statutory law [chukat mishpat]
for all your generations” (35:29).
The Torah here emphasizes the eternal nature of these
halakhot,
impressing upon us the fact that they apply “for all your generations” (“le-doroteikhem”).
Rav Moshe Sternbuch, in his
Ta’am
Va-da’at,
detects within this verse a reference to the eternal relevance of the underlying
concept of the
arei miklat
– even in times when the
halakha does not apply
in the narrow sense. Even in our
period of exile, when inadvertent killers are not required to relocate in an
ir miklat, the basic concept of responsibility and caution applies no less
than it did during the time when we were served by arei miklat. Just as then, when people were held
accountable for even accidentally causing death, today, too, we bear a strict
responsibility to avoid danger to other people.
We must refrain from not only causing harm intentionally, but also from
any activity that could potentially endanger other people (or ourselves…).
Rav Sternbuch then adds an especially important contemporary application
of this “chukat mishpat”:
This presents a frightful warning to operators of cars and the like who, in
their rush to reach their destination, do not pay attention to ensure not to
take human life on the roads, and in their negligence they are likely to spill
innocent blood. His iniquity is
especially severe… And it is proper to warn of this danger with full force.
Wednesday
The
Torah in Parashat Masei introduces the
mitzva of
arei miklat, which requires
Benei Yisrael to designate six cities as “cities of refuge” to protect
inadvertent killers from angry relatives of the victims, and requires such
killers to relocate in one of these cities.
The Mishna in Masekhet Makot (9b) records a debate between Rabbi Yehuda
and Rabbi Meir as to whether a blind person must relocate in an
ir miklat if he accidentally kills somebody.
Rabbi Yehuda maintained that the blind are excluded from the obligation
of ir miklat.
He infers this ruling from the Torah’s description of the situation
requiring relocation in an ir
miklat – where one kills “be-lo re’ot,” without seeing the victim (35:23).
Rabbi Yehuda understands this to mean that the killer was able to see but
happened not to see the victim when he dropped the object that killed him. Hence, a blind person is excluded
from the requirement to relocate in an ir miklat.
The Rambam, in Hilkhot Rotzei’ach (6:14), codifies Rabbi Yehuda’s ruling,
that a blind person who kills accidentally does not relocate in an ir miklat. Surprisingly, however, he explains
this exemption based on the fact that this is a case of “karov le-oness”
– similar to a situation of “oness,” where the death resulted from
circumstances entirely out of his control.
The Rambam in this passage lists numerous situations in which the killer
is not required to relocate because the incident did not involve a high degree
of negligence on his part – such as if he was climbing a ladder and a rung broke
as he stepped, causing him to fall and kill a person below. In this context, the Rambam includes
the case of a blind person who accidentally kills. Whereas the Gemara appears to infer
this halakha based on a textual inference, indicating that it is simply a
gezeirat ha-katuv (Scripturally
mandated law), the Rambam views it within the broader context of the general
rule exempting killers from relocating in situations that resemble “oness.”
It
appears that although the Rambam accepted Rabbi Yehuda’s ruling, he did not
accept Rabbi Yehuda’s reasoning.
Whereas Rabbi Yehuda attributed this exemption to a
gezeirat ha-katuv, a special, exceptional dispensation granted by the Torah, the Rambam saw
it as a natural outgrowth of the provision of “karov
le-oness,” which exempts killers from relocating if the
situation resembled that of “oness.”
An expression of this distinction between the two reasons is the case of a
blind person who kills somebody intentionally.
The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Kama (86b) cites Rabbi Yehuda as extending
his ruling to the case of intentional murder.
Just as he exempts a blind person from relocating in an
ir miklat in the case of inadvertent murder, similarly, he exempts a blind person
from capital punishment in the case of intentional murder. Rabbi Yehuda makes this extension on
the basis of a “gezeira
shava” – a textual commonality between the cases of intentional and unintentional
murder, as the Torah in both contexts refers to the culprit with the term “rotzei’ach.” The Rambam, however, makes no
mention in his halakhic code of a blind person’s exemption from capital
punishment for intentional murder.
He does not accept the extension that Rabbi Yehuda makes from the case of
unintentional murder to the case of intentional murder, and this might very well
be a function of his view of the exemption in the case of unintentional murder. The Rambam ruled that a blind person
is exempt from relocating in an
ir miklat only because this case falls under the category of “karov le-oness,” and not due to a formal exemption of the blind. Naturally, then, he does not extend
this exemption to cases of intentional murder, where the factor
of “karov le-oness” is obviously
not relevant.
Another
practical difference between these two reasons for the exemption is a case where
a
go’el ha-dam (avenger from the victim’s family) kills the blind person who had
accidentally killed his relative.
The Rambam rules explicitly (earlier in that chapter in Hilkhot Rotzei’ach) that
in the case of “karov
le-oness,” when the killer does not have to relocate in an
ir miklat, if a relative of the victim kills
the killer, that relative is considered a full-fledged murderer and is liable to
capital punishment. This would also
apply in a case of a blind killer, whose situation, according to the Rambam, is
de facto regarded as one of “karov
le-oness.”
According to Rabbi Yehuda, however, it is possible that in the case of a blind
person who accidentally kills, a victim’s relative who kills him would not be
liable to death. Even though the
Torah formally exempts the blind person from relocating in an
ir miklat, it is not certain that he is
excluded altogether from the status of “rotzeiach
be-shogeig,” an inadvertent killer whose crime may be avenged by a go’el ha-dam. According to Rabbi Yehuda’s view,
that the Torah grants a special exemption to a blind killer outside the normal
framework of accidental deaths, this halakha might perhaps not extend any
further than a technical exemption from relocating, without affecting the
killer’s personal status as a “rotzeiach be-shogeig.”
If so, then a “go’el ha-dam” would not be held liable for killing
the blind killer.
(Taken from
Otzar Mefarshei Ha-Talmud to Maskhet Makkot)
Thursday
The
Torah in Parashat Masei concludes its discussion of laws pertaining to
accidental murder by reiterating the severity of murder generally. It warns the courts not to accept
payment from killers as ransom to exempt them from capital punishment,
emphasizing that expiation for this crime requires taking the life of the
killer: “There shall be no atonement for the land for the blood spilt upon it
except through the blood of the one who spilled it” (35:33).
The
Gemara in Masekhet Keritut (26a) cites this verse amidst its discussion of the
atonement earned through the observance of Yom Kippur. Specifically, the Gemara establishes
that the Yom Kippur observance brings atonement for all transgressions which one
committed but of which nobody – other than the Almighty – is aware. The Torah writes in the context of
the atonement of Yom Kippur, “from all your sins – you shall be purified before
the Lord” (Vayikra 16:30), which the Gemara understood as referring to the sins
that were committed and of which nobody is aware.
The Gemara then questions this concept, noting the requirement to conduct
the
egla arufa ceremony when a murder victim is found and it is
unknown who killed him or her (see Devarim 21:1-9). This
halakha applies even if Yom Kippur was observed in the interim. Meaning, if the body was discovered
several days before Yom Kippur, and the nearest town – who bears the obligation
to conduct the
egla arufa ritual – was unable to perform the ceremony before the onset of Yom Kippur,
they must do so after the holiday.
Why, the Gemara asks, would the town be required to perform this ritual to atone
for the murder if the Yom Kippur observance atones for all “hidden” sins? Rava answers by citing the
aforementioned verse in Parashat Masei: “There shall be no atonement for the
land for the blood spilt upon it except through the blood of the one who spilled
it.” Rava appears to explain that
the Torah distinguishes intentional murder from all other sins, and establishes
that it cannot be atoned through any means other than capital punishment. Therefore, even after Yom Kippur, the
egla arufa ceremony is necessary to atone for
the crime.
Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his
Yalkut Yehuda, explains the Gemara’s discussion differently. Initially, he writes, the Gemara
thought that this ritual is intended to bring atonement to the criminal himself. Since the criminal has not been
brought to justice, the entire town performs a ceremony that will atone for the
resident who committed this grievous crime.
The Gemara therefore wondered why this ritual is necessary if Yom Kippur
had passed in the interim, and thus brought the criminal atonement. In the Gemara’s response, the
Yalkut Yehuda explains, it reassesses the
concept of the
egla arufa. Noting the verse here in
Parashat Masei, the Gemara deduces that the
egla arufa cannot possibly bring atonement to the criminal
himself. After all, the Torah writes
explicitly that atonement for murder cannot be achieved until the murderer
receives his punishment. Hence, the
Gemara concludes, the
egla arufa ritual must serve as a means of atonement for the community for allowing
this tragedy to happen, for its collective “sin” of producing a person who was
capable of committing such a crime.
If the criminal is caught and punished as mandated by the Torah, then his
punishment serves to atone both for himself and for the community who allowed
this incident to occur. But if he is
not captured, then the people must perform the egla arufa
ritual to achieve their collective atonement.
And this atonement cannot be provided by Yom Kippur observance, which
atones for unknown transgressions.
Of this “transgression” the entire community is aware, and thus even after Yom
Kippur, they are required to perform the egla arufa ceremony to atone for
their collective “sin” of allowing a murderer to grow in their midst.
Friday
The Torah in Parashat Masei concludes its discussion of laws concerning
accidental and intentional murder by warning, “You shall not defile the land in
which you dwell, in whose midst I reside – for I, the Lord, reside among the
Israelites” (35:34). God informs
Benei Yisrael that allowing violent crime in their midst will have the effect of
“defiling” their land which is graced with the divine presence. Lack of concern for the lives of
others defiles the land, rendering it unsuitable for the divine presence. The
Sifrei thus comments on this
verse, “This teaches that murder defiles the land and causes the divine presence
to depart – [indeed,] it is because of murder that the
Beit Ha-mikdash was destroyed.”
In this
context, the
Sifrei tells a story that appears also in the Talmud (Yoma 23a), of two
kohanim who were racing up the ramp of the altar, vying for the
privilege of performing the terumat ha-deshen ritual (clearing the ashes
off the surface of the altar). One
of the kohanim, during the race, stabbed the other in his chest, killing
him. Rabbi Tzadok, in response to
the tragedy, stood upon the platform in the
The Gemara, in its discussion of this episode, notes that Rabbi Tzadok
did not actually mean that the people of Jerusalem, or the administrators of the
Mikdash, were required to perform the egla arufa ceremony which is
required when a murder victim is discovered.
The obligation of egla arufa applies only if the perpetrator cannot
be identified, whereas in this tragic story, it was clear and evident who the
killer was. Moreover, the Gemara
notes, a special halakha
excludes the city of
Why would the reference to egla arufa intensify the emotions and
the anguish over the tragedy that took place?
As we discussed yesterday, the egla arufa ceremony served to atone
not for the murderer himself, but rather for the collective guilt of the
community that allowed such a crime to occur.
On one level or another, the entire city bears some accountability for
producing an individual capable of committing such a crime. And this, perhaps, was Rav Tzadok’s
admonition to the crowd that had assembled in the
When
people kill, slander, malign, or cheat others in the name of Torah, we all
require an “egla
arufa,” we must all atone for allowing this distorted understanding of God’s will
to emerge. Rabbi Tzadok sought to
draw his audience’s attention to the sheer, painful absurdity of the situation –
that a person would commit the most heinous crime for the sake of serving the
Almighty. And he calls upon us to
recognize the gravity of placing ritual service ahead of basic decency, of
bringing a sacrifice to God by sacrificing elementary morals and ethics. When people hurt each other in their
misguided zeal to serve God, then we must all introspect and recommit ourselves
to the basic, fundamental values of ethical conduct.
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