I wrote this D’var Torah last year, in 2022, and I reread it this afternoon and really loved all that I had to say then. I thought I would have posted it here, but alas, I hadn’t! So enjoy! Shabbat Shalom, and hope you are staying Tropeful!
In the section which I chanted today, we heard of the details of six cities of refuge which were to be shelters for anyone who had accidentally killed someone – today, what we would term accidental manslaughter. This idea of an understanding of this early system of justice is incredibly fascinating to me. It understands the burden placed on this individual if they were truly only guilty of something borne out of an accident. It also recognizes that in the society of the day, people took justice within their own hands, and thus, an individual in this circumstance was in a state of danger, as someone related to the one killed could come after them.
In a country where we at least attempt to run our justice system with the ideal of ‘innocent until proven guilty,’ there is something rather modern even in this Biblical perspective. A d’var Torah written by a former classmate of mine, Rabbi Elliot Kukla for the American Jewish World Service, puts this into modern context – imagine the burden realized by a doctor who overlooks a vital and ultimately fatal symptom or a driver distracted by something out of their control. If one of these circumstances leads to an accidental death, in an instant, it changes the lives of all connected to the incident. Rabbi Kukla also points to the perspective of communal responsibility. For example, could an avoidable death of a patient be caused by a doctor working in an overstressed medical system? Could a distracted driver be overworked and unfocused?
In Parashat Masei, there is an understanding that the community has provided these safe spaces – sacred places of peace, where the one who has committed the accidental death must actually remain for the rest of their lives or until the high priest dies and an amnesty is declared. Unfortunately, in this Biblical system of justice, this individual becomes somewhat of a prisoner for the benefit of their own safety.
Last year, I had the opportunity to visit Hawaii for my very first time. On the Big Island, there is a national park called Puʻuhonua o Hōnaunau. The first word – pu’uhonua refers to one of many places of refuge that existed in Hawaii from Medieval Times until the 19th century. In this place and others like it, a fallen warrior, or refugees displaced by war could find a place of peace. They are described as sacred places protected by Lono, the God of Life. They were places of rising consciousness and likewise to this week’s Torah portion, of communal responsibility giving these refugees a second chance.
I find these parallels so interesting, as they both represent the drive to create a bit of civility, safety, and asylum amongst otherwise chaotic situations.
I want to point out one other interesting fact about this week’s portion related to the trope system of chanting, even though it is unrelated to everything I have just mentioned. In chapter 35, verse 5, which would fall into the 5th traditional aliyah, we find a trope phrase that only occurs once in the entire Torah. The trope is called yerach ben yomo, ‘a one day old moon,’ and karnei farah, ‘horns of a cow,’ fittingly named for the shapes of the trope symbols. Also amusingly fitting is the fact that the trope karnei farah, which look like horns of a cow, finds itself on a section in the text describing the measurements of land for … raising cattle.
And with that, I wish you a Shabbat Shalom.