Matos Masai
Settling The Score
When Moshe asked the Jews to go fight the Midianites, they refused. They needed to be impressed into service. Why? Because they knew that Moshe was to die after this war, and were demonstrating how much Moshe meant to them. (Rashi)
Who had told them, and why?
It would seem that Moshe himself told them. In fact Hashem directed him to discuss it with the nation. But why did the Jews need to know?
The battle being waged was a personal satisfaction for Moshe. The Midianites had deeply hurt the Jews, and the debt, the score to settle, was still unpaid. The Jews were now to make the Midianites account for their deeds, and settle with them. Hashem did not want Moshe to die without seeing the revenge visited on his foes, without being vindicated. He promised “take revenge from the Midianites and (only) then die”
The Jews were entitled to learn that Hashem was holding off Moshe’s death so that he could have the satisfaction of seeing revenge. They learned that Hashem takes care of His tzaddikim, even in resolving insults to ones person.
And after reading this parshah, we should know it too.
Shchina And Accidents
When the Kohen Gadol dies, an accidental-murderer may leave the Ir Miklat, the City of Refuge. He had fled there when the accident occurred. Why? The Gemarrah says that the death of the Kohen Gadol atones the murder. Why are fatal accidents particularly tied to the Kohen Gadol?
Perhaps an accident is an example of a tragedy that no one actually planned or premeditated, rather things just came together in a bad way. One fellow carelessly chops wood, the other drifts into the danger zone and gets hit. Coincidental tragedy means the Shchinah, – Hashem’s presence revealed in His managing affairs, – is not present. Instead, happen-stance governs.
Bringing the Shchinah is the Kohen Gadol’s job. The Kohen Gadol is accountable for praying that this mishap not happen during his tenure. Perhaps this forms the special connection or responsibility a Kohen Gadol has for a fatal accident.
The lesson to us? That Shchina and accidents don’t go together. Bringing the Shchina closer, by prayer and holiness, helps keep us safe.
Levels Of Obligation
When the pasuk talks of from the soldiers’ tithe it says ‘…from people (captives), cattle, donkeys and sheep’. (See Chizkuni that indeed only these were tithed.) The Jews however, tithed the above and ‘…from all the other animals’ too. Why?
And why did the soldiers give a different fraction, – one of five hundred, – than the rest of the Jews, who gave one out of fifty? (Ten times as much!)
Perhaps the lesson here is that one is obligated to be more generous and giving with money gained from windfall than with money hard earned. It’s harder to give away earned money, and therefore less is expected of him by Hashem. So the soldiers tithed only certain animals and only 1/500, but the Jews, who did not work for that money, tithed all and tithed 1/50.
The Dynamics Of Sin
Someone who kills accidentally must stay in the Ir Miklat, city of refuge, until the death of the Kohen Gadol. Then he is free to leave, and the go’el ha’dam, the redeemer of blood, may not touch him.
What does the Kohen Gadol have anything to do with the whole story? Where does he come in?
Rashi has two explanations;
One; the Kohain Gadol represent Shchina and life-force, the murderer represents death. It is improper that the two should meet and mix. The murderer must hide himself away from the Kohen Gadol by staying in the Ir Miklat. When the Kohen Gadol dies, he may leave.
Two: the Kohen Gadol ought to have prayed that a catastrophe – such as this murder – should not have happened during his tenure. Therefore the murderer stays in the Ir Miklat until his death.
This second explanation warrants thought: are we punishing the Kohen Gadol by somehow hastening his death? Will linking the freedom of the murderer to the Kohen’s death cause the murderer to pray that the Kohen Gadol die?
The Maharal suggests this is Rashi’s intention, and rejects it, saying that this is not the Jewish way.
The Levush adds a twist; after the first Kohen dies as a result of the murderer’s prayer, the next Kohain will be very careful to pray that no murder happens. His life depends on it! So a system is created whereby the Kohen will be motivated to carry out his duty of ensuring peace and life among the People.
One of the kinderlach suggested that since the Kohen Gadol is (presumably) a tzaddik, his death is a atonement for the entire generation, including the murderer.
Perhaps there is another way of looking at this: the Kohen Gadol did not cause the murder, not by any means. He had a peripheral connection with the event, because he could have stopped it from happening. It was incumbent upon him to do so.
Therefore his death, which atones for his own sins, atones for part of the sin in the murder. And its effect lessens a bit, allowing the murderer out of the Ir Miklat.
The crux of this idea is that sin is considered as an entity unto itself. Separate from the individuals committing it, one sin can be done by many people. So that sin can atoned for in parts. Any one of the sinners can atone his own part.
Keeping Your Word
The Torah asks us to keep our word; it says we should not be profane our word. We are familiar with “keeping” our word, committing to what we have said. But profanity and holiness? What holiness is in our words? Is our words the Beis Hamikdash?
Perhaps the usage of ‘holiness’ here does not refer to the type of holiness found in the Beis HaMikdash. Our usual chatter is not hallowed. Rather it means that the words we say are not mere talk; they are halachikly meaningful. Much as sh’chita is not mere killing an animal, rather it has halachik meaning which permits eating the animal, so too our words are binding halachikly. Saying we will do something creates a force that binds us to keep those words. Breaking our word is treating our utterance as if it were not binding – as if it were profane, not meaningful in a halachik sense.
So besides our responsibility to keep to our word because we accept responsibility for it, we must also keep our word just because we said it, and it binds us.
Paying Our Debts
The Jews split the booty from the Midyan war; half to the soldiers and half to the rest of the people. Why should the soldiers give half their spoils away?
The soldiers fought as our representatives. The Jewish people took revenge, the soldiers were merely the agents. They had a partnership with the rest of the people; the Jews as a whole had a goal which the soldiers carried it out. In return, Jewish merit protected those soldiers, resulting in impossibly-few soldiers winning the battle, and in zero casualties. It was entirely proper that the booty be split.
The interesting part here is what happens next. Each of the groups, – the soldiers and the Jews, – gave a tax. The soldiers’ tax was 1/500 and it went to Elazar. The nation’s tax was 1/50 (ten times as much!) and went to the Levi’im. Why?
Perhaps the answer is that in this unique partnership, where the Jews supplied Merit, and the soldiers Action, Hashem helped out more with the Jews’ portion than with the soldiers’ one. Our merits are sort of doubtful; we need Hashem’s kindly eye validating them. The soldiers’ acted. Action is action. The tax represented our debt to Him. Our debt was 10 times greater than the soldiers’ was!
In every our endeavor both forces are needed. Never forget that!
©2013
kollel parshah | Tiferet Ramot 83-21, Jerusalem, Israel, 97290
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