jueves, 24 de julio de 2014

Massei 5774 - English

By Rabbi Rami Pavolotzky
B´nei Israel Congregation - San Jose, Costa Rica

Changes done slowly are better accepted

The regulations concerning the arei miklat, cities of refuge, appear in Parashat Massei.  Who could take refuge in those cities?  People who had killed someone unintentionally.  Since this sounds a little weird, this law deserves an explanation.

In biblical times there was an institution called goel hadam, which literally means “redeemer of blood.”  When a person was murdered, a close relative was responsible for avenging the death of his dearly beloved.  This relative, who was rightly called “redeemer of blood”, searched for the murderer and took justice into his own hands, killing him/her.  This manner of acting was an extended custom, socially accepted and welcomed.

The law of the cities of refuge that appears in this parashah deals with a special case: the person who kills someone with no intention, as for example, in an accident.  According to ancient customs, that person could be executed by the “redeemer of blood”, even when he/she was absolutely innocent of any charge, for even though he/she had murdered someone, it was done unintentionally. This vengeance, though clearly unjust, was virtually impossible to avoid.

The Torah establishes that the person who killed someone with no intention could take refuge in a special place, where taking the law into individual hands was prohibited. These places, called “cities of refuge,” were also inhabited by the priests and Levites, which gave the cities some very peculiar characteristics.

This socially accepted custom of avenging or redeeming the blood, presented several ethical and practical problems.  The main one is the one that the Torah tries to resolve, by attempting to prevent the death of an innocent person.  I believe I’m right when I affirm that any modern person would find the idea of taking the law into individual hands revolting.  Then, we could wonder, why didn’t the Torah directly establish that, when a crime was committed, there should be a trial, and why didn’t it annul, plainly and simply, the custom of “blood redemption”?  Why did it have to set forth a system as complicated as the cities of refuge?  Wouldn’t it have been easier to annul this savage custom, of a relative having to avenge the blood of a murdered innocent?

I think that once again, with the establishment of the cities of refuge, the Torah shows us its infinite wisdom.  Although it could have emphatically forbidden the custom of blood redemption, it is possible that such prohibition could not have held at the time.  We can easily imagine that as it was a habit so largely ingrained in people, if it had been suddenly forbidden, people would have been left, from one moment to the next, without an essential value in their lives, and therefore, it is possible that they would not have honored the change.

The Torah ordered the building of the cities of refuge for cases when everyone could understand that it was reasonable, since no one wishes to see an innocent person executed.  With the establishment of the cities of refuge, people slowly started to question their ancient customs, both intellectually and spiritually.  For instance, what happened if a murderer who killed someone on purpose escaped to a city of refuge?  How do you distinguish between the one who kills deliberately and the one who kills unintentionally?  Step by step, the idea that this custom of “blood redemption” was not positive for society started to take root, and that it was much better to institute criminal trials in all cases.

We all know the end, since the cities of refuge no longer exist, and in addition, murders and suspicious deaths are always presented before justice: many centuries have passed since Jews left behind the custom of taking law into their own hands.  Yes, the Torah introduced a revolutionary idea, but it did so slowly, patiently and without any drastic changes, in such a manner that, with time, the change was smooth and even natural.
Human beings have the same issues with sudden changes.  Nothing changes from one day to the next.  We all need to wait, reflect, and experience the changes.  When something changes all of a sudden, we find it difficult to accept that change, even when it may be in our best interest.  But if the change happens slowly and smoothly, then it is likely that we will realize, step by step, that perhaps it is better for us and the people around us.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Rami Pavolotzky
B´nei Israel Congregation
San Jose, Costa Rica

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