Cities of Refuge

“You shall designate cities for yourselves; they shall be Cities of Refuge for you, and a murderer who killed a person unintentionally shall flee there” Bamidbar  (Numbers) 35:11

As Am Yisrael is about to enter the Promised Land, Moshe is instructed to designate six “cities of refuge,” three on each side of the Jordan river, to which anyone who accidentally kills a person can escape.  The purpose of such cities is to provide refuge, where the killer will be safe from being killed by a blood relative of the dead.

 

The vengeance of blood (or blood revenge) was a central concept in justice systems across the Ancient Near East. It refers to the right or duty of a family member to avenge the killing of a relative—usually through killing the murderer. This practice shaped legal codes, tribal customs, and religious thought in many ancient cultures. 

The Code of Hammurabi (18th century BCE), for instance, includes provisions for blood vengeance. In case someone kills another, the victim’s family could put that person to death. Retribution, in this Code, was based on lex talionis, “an eye for an eye.” Blood vengeance was also present in Hittite, Ugarit and Canaanite as well as in the ancient Hebrew laws.

However, as Lord Rabbi Sacks explains, in early societies, where blood vengeance was practiced, “there was a concern that people would take the law into their own hands,” which “would begin a cycle of vengeance and retaliation,” where, “one revenge-killing leading to another and another, until the community had been decimated.” 

In order to prevent unjust violence, it was, therefore, important to distinguish between murder, a deliberate killing and manslaughter, unintentional death. 

Over time, Ancient Near Eastern Societies, such as those mentioned above, moved toward a centralized legal system which distinguished between these two forms of killings. It gradually restricted blood vengeance as well as allowing kings and temples to assume more authority in criminal justice. Additionally, legal codes ( e.g.,Hammurabi, Mosaic law) attempted to channel vengeance through regulated procedures or sanctuary laws and permitted compensation in the form of monetary payment in place of blood revenge. 

While the notion of sanctuary or places of refuge which are one of the themes in this week’s Parasha, Masei, also existed in Mesopotamian societies, these were mostly confined to religious sites. The formalized, legalistic system of the Mosaic Cities of Refuge, though, is a distinct development. They did not have solely religious and legal importance; they also had moral and symbolic significance. 

Firstly, these cities did not only provide protection from vengeance, mostly for the accidental killer from the blood avenger who could seek retribution. They also prevented further bloodshed and more killings. 

Secondly, legally, the Mosaic concept provided due process. Although the main purpose of cities of refuge was to protect the accidental killer, in practice, murderers who killed intentionally went there as well (Talmud, Makkot 9b and 12a). Upon arriving in the City of Refuge, the court sent messengers to escort that person while, also, acting as his bodyguards and bring him in for a hearing. If the judges decreed that the murder was intentional, the verdict would be accordingly. However, if the judges ruled that his act of killing was unintentional, the messengers would accompany him back to the city of refuge for a mandatory stay. So long as the killers remained within the city limits, they were protected by law. They had to remain there until the death of the High Priest.

The mandatory stay in the City of Refuge is aimed at teaching a symbolic and spiritual lesson. The symbolic exile to a City of Refuge suggests a form of penance and moral reflection. It is aimed to tell us that even unintentional death is serious and requires atonement and rehabilitation. According to Ramba”n, it is a means to carry out Divine justice.Taking a life, he suggests, whether intentional or not, upsets the moral balance of the world.

The spirtual lesson relates to the revered status of the High Priest who represented the collective soul of the People. His death, which provided communal atonement and allowed the killer to leave the city, stressed the High Priest’s spiritual role for the nation. 

Midrash takes the importance of the role of the City of Refuge even one step higher. It explicitly compares the City of Refuge to Torah. “Just as the Cities of Refuge save lives, so, too, does Torah.”Midrash Tanhuma Buber (Appendix to Va’Etchanan,4).  In other words, just as someone, who accidentally killed someone, could find safety in a City of Refuge, engaging with Torah provides spiritual refuge, protection and healing.

It is noteworthy to mention that to ensure the clear and open access to justice, Talmud stresses the importance of precise and well marked signage to cities of refuge. “The roads to the Cities of Refuge were to be well-maintained and signposted….” (Makkot, 9b-10a). Likewise, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Rotzeach u’Shmirat Nefesh (law of Murder and Protection of Life) where Ramba”m codifies the laws of the cities of refuge, he writes: “The court must prepare and repair the roads leading to the Cities of Refuge…They must build bridges, remove obstacles, and post signs: ‘Miklat (refuge)! Miklat!’ so that no one errs on the way. (Hilchot Rotzeach 8:5).

The sanctity of life is of utmost importance in the Torah and Jewish tradition. The Cities of Refuge reflect this value. They highlight the Torah’s underlying view of justice, combining accountability, compassion and restorative principles. They offer a deeply humane approach to dealing with bloodshed, tragedy, moral responsibility, spiritual growth and societal healing.

Metzora - The Importance of Introspection

 

      “We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play.” – Albert Einstein

 

Last week’s Torah portions, Tazria and Metzora continue to address the laws of purity which began in Shemini. In Tazria, G-d instructs Moshe about the rituals of purification for mothers following childbirth.

The second parashah (Torah portion), Metzora, focuses on the laws of tzara’at which, according to our sages, is mistakenly translated as leprosy. “It is not a physical disease,” asserts Rabbi David Rosenfeld, of Aish, “…. it can appear on innate objects like clothing and buildings which is something physical diseases can’t do. Rather,” he continues, “tzara’at is a spiritual malady.” The parashah goes on to address the laws concerning the atonement and treatment of the condition, the healing process by the High Priest and the sacrifices which the afflicted person has to offer to G-d.

The notion that tzara’at is a spiritual condition rather than physical is also proposed by Rabbi David Agmon. According to him, were tzara’at a somatic malady, it would follow that it should be named after the doctor that is sent to heal the sick person. Instead, the parashah describes the ailments that are diagnosed and treated by the High Priest through the process of purification. “What does it tell us about the spiritual attribute of leprosy?” asks Rabbi Agmon.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, ZT”L, likewise, suggests that the Rabbis “moralized the condition of tzara’at.” According to them, it was a punishment rather than a medical condition and not for any sin but for one specific sin, that of leshon hara, evil speech. This interpretation, explains Sacks, “was based on the internal evidence in the Torah itself.” The first is described in Exodus 4:6-7 where Moshe’s hand became leprous after expressing doubt the readiness of the Yisraelites to believe him. The second incident is mentioned in Numbers 12:1-15 where Miriam was struck by leprosy after denigrating Moshe.

Though tzara’at may possibly be a type of skin infection, our sages claim that it is wreaked as a Divine message and not by natural means. They explain that the term “metzora” is an acronym for “motzi leshon hara” a person who speaks disparagingly about others (Babylonian Talmud, Erkin15:1).

 The Torah does not provide a clear directive against leshon hara, evil speech, it strictly prohibits gossip, “You shall not go about spreading gossip among your people” (Leviticus 19:16). Leshon hara, is considered one of the worst transgressions of all. Maimonides, one of our greatest sages, construes it as “There is a far greater sin that falls under this prohibition [of gossip]. It is ‘the evil tongue,’ which refers to whoever speaks derogatorily of his fellow, even though he speaks the truth.” (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Deot 7:2). Evil speech, claim our sages, kills three people – the one who says it, the one who accepts it, and the one about whom it is said. (Hilchot Deot 7:3). Nothing keeps us farthest from G-d than leshon hara, contends Ohr HaChaim (Rabbi Chaim ben Attar).

A close examination of the laws of tzara’at, its consequences and the peculiar purification process by the High Priest, as described in the parashah, reinforces the spiritual significance of the syndrome.

One of the consequences of having tzara’at requires that the contaminated individual is commanded to separate himself from the community and stay outside the camp by himself, “leave your home, go beyond the city limits and just sit alone with no one to talk to!” (Leviticus 13:46).

To an innocent bystander, this directive may seem harsh considering that the source of this ailment is spiritual, a form of punishment for sinful conduct rather than physical or contagious.

And this is the great lesson that our Rabbis wish to teach us. According to them, the process of isolation, which is consequential to leaving the camp, is meant to bring us to reflection, introspection and repentance.

Our body is our guide, our Scriptures teach us, the guide to our inner self. In the words of Job, “….in my flesh I will see G-d” (Job 19:26). Our body is the channel through which the Divine message is passed on to us. It is, as Einstein expressed in the above quote, “the instrument through which our souls play.” If part of us is impure, it tends to manifest itself physically to allow us to treat, mend and heal. Our first instinct, generally, is to blame outside factors for our ailments. The Torah instructs us to examine ourselves, search our inner self, not look at others or blame them. This is essential to commence our healing process. Remedy of the soul is the root of physical health.

Just as the Metzora cannot be part of his camp so long as he is diseased, so cannot those who sin against their fellow men and women be part of our society. Only after they wake up, amend their ways and heal can they embark on the path towards a healthy and fulfilling life for themselves and our society.

Do Clothes Maketh a Man? In the Case of the High Priest, Yes

 

Garments are the frame that man creates, both towards himself – that which he wishes to be - and towards others and what they think about him. It also serves his role, assists, and allows him in performing his job

The finery of the Temple Priests, especially that of the Kohen Gadol High Priest (which is the focus of this article) is one of the main themes of this week’s Parashah, “Tetzaveh” (You Shall Command). These are described in exhaustive details as are their fabrics, ornaments, their function, and the accompanying protocol to wearing them.

 “Make sacred garments for your brother Aharon to give him dignity and honour,” G-d tells Moshe (Shemot 28:2). There are four pieces of clothing that are peculiar to the High Priest, described in Shemot 28:4-5.

The directive from G-d to Moshe is to make “a breastplate {containing twelve precious stones inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes of Yisrael}, an ephod {an apron like garment}, a robe, and a Tzitz {a headdress with a golden plate worn on the forehead bearing the inscription “Holy to G-d”}. They are to make these sacred garments….Have them use gold, and blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen.” (Shemot 28:4-5). (It is important to note that these are to be worn all days of the year, except for Yom Kippur when the High Priest wears only white).

According to Ramba”n (13^th century, Spain), “these garments resemble those of royalty in form. At the time of the Torah, the monarchy would have worn such clothing. The tunic signifies leadership just as Yoseph was presented by his father with a ‘tunic of many stripes’…thus Aharon was to be clothed as a king of ancient times…….the miter is still worn by royalty and nobility to this day….the breastplate and ephod are regal attire and the headband is still a crown. The material used to make these garments, namely gold, sky-blue, purple and crimson, are precious and rare.”

Despite the similarities between the garb of the High Priest and those of a king, they differ in substance. Unlike kings, the attire of the High Priest constitutes “Bigdei Kodesh” (holy vestments).

Their sacred nature is signified in a few ways.

The first is rooted in their inclusion in the instructions for building the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and its furnishings. This suggests that these garments are not the personal property of the High Priest but rather a part of the Mishkan’s sacred components, as described in Shemot 39:1-31.

Additionally, the fabrics used to manufacture the garments of the High Priest are made and styled in the same fashion of those used in the most sacrosanct sections of the Mishkan. They are to be worn only when the High Priest enters the interior part of the sanctuary, twice daily, morning and evening.

The unique essence of the Priestly garb is further stressed by Rabbi Inyani Bar Sasson (3^rd century). According to him, each of the Priestly robes is intended to atone for a particular sin committed by members of Am Yisrael akin to the function of the sacrifices (Babylonian Talmud, Zevachim 68). He claims that it is not by coincidence that the Parashah addressing sacrifices is adjacent to the one focusing on Priesthood. Rabbi Bar Sasson lists offences, light as well as serious, for which different Priestly clothing items grant clemency.

The detailed directive describing the opulent garments of the High Priest, and their role have engaged Jewish sages over the years. Of particular interest was the command to “Make pomegranates of blue, purple and scarlet yarn around the hem of the robe, with gold bells between them….Aharon must wear it when he ministers. The sound of the bells will be heard when he enters the Holy Place before the Lord and when he comes out, so that he will not die” (28:33-35).

Rabbenu Bahya (Spain, c. 1050-1120) suggests that the bells serve two purposes. The first is akin to knocking on the door of the Entrance Hall of the inner Sanctuary to announce the arrival of the High Priest. According to him, since the Divine Kingdom is similar to an earthly one, anyone who abruptly enters the king’s hall is sentenced to death. To support his claim, Rabbenu Bahya, cites the Book of Esther 4:11, “All the king’s officials and the people of the royal provinces know that for any man or woman who approaches the king in the inner court without being summoned, the king has but one law: that they be put to death.”

Image of a golden bell ornament believed to be worn by a High Priest or another important leader from Second Temple period discovered in Yerushalayim in 2011

The second objective of the bells, proposes Bahya, is to alert G-d’s angels. Even though G-d and His celestial servants know all, it is important to alert them lest they harm the High Priest for interrupting the Divine repose.

The Rashba”n argues that the bells are there as a public notice for people announcing the approach of the High Priest. It serves as a warning in order to comply with the commandment which forbids the presence of anyone in the Hall when the High Priest is about to perform his holy duties.

Hezekiah ben Manoach (13^th century) suggests that the bells are there to remind Am Yisrael of prayer times and divert their attention towards that duty. He also believes that the bells help distinguish between the High Priest and the lay ones.

Clothes have cultural and social significance. The main message in this week’s Parashah presents us with another kind, a holy one, decreed by G-d Himself.

Judging by the opening verses of the Parashah, one cannot help but surmise that the main intent of the Priestly garb is to bestow “dignity and honour” upon those wearing it. This tendency goes hand in hand with the commandments concerning the construction of the  Mishkan and its unique vessels. They are aimed at spurring the awareness that the G-d of Yisrael is the G-d of the whole universe. It is, therefore, only appropriate that His servants, should, likewise, appear majestic, be dressed in “splendid and fine clothes…to be held in great reverence by all” (Ramba”m).