The book of Bamidbar ends with the cities of refuge, the six arei miklat – three on each side of the Jordan – set apart as places where people found innocent of murder (but guilty of manslaughter) were temporarily exiled.
In early societies there was a concern that when a member of their family or tribe had been killed, people would take the law into their own hands. Thus would begin a cycle of vengeance and retaliation that had no natural end, one revenge-killing leading to another and another, until the community had been decimated.
If, for example, Dan killed Gil and was deemed innocent of murder by the court (it was an accident, there was no malice aforethought, and the Dan and Gil were not enemies) then there was still the danger that Gil’s family might feel justice had not been served. Their close relative was killed, but Dan was not punished.
It was to prevent such situations of “blood vengeance” that the arei miklat were established. Those who had committed manslaughter were sent there, and so long as they were within the city limits, they were protected by law. They had to stay there until – according to our parsha – “the death of the Kohen Gadol”.
The obvious question is, what does the death of the High Priest have to do with this? There seems no connection whatsoever between manslaughter, blood vengeance, and the High Priest, let alone his death.
Let us look at two quite different interpretations. They are interesting in their own right, but more generally they show us the range of thought within Judaism. According to the Talmud Bavli, the Kohen Gadol had a share, however small, in the guilt for the fact that someone died. Murder is not something that the Kohen Gadol’s prayer could have averted. The murderer was guilty of the crime, having chosen to do what he did, and no one else can be blamed. But manslaughter, precisely because it happens without anyone intending that it should, is the kind of event that the High Priest’s prayers might have averted. Therefore, it is not fully atoned for until the Kohen Gadol dies. Only then can the manslaughterer go free.
The Rambam offers an entirely different explanation: the death of the Kohen Gadol causes collective grief. People tend to forget their own misfortunes in the face of a larger national loss. That is when they let go of their sense of injustice and desire for revenge. It then becomes safe for the person found guilty of manslaughter to return home.
The Rambam does not see the law of the arei miklat in terms of guilt or punishment. The only relevant consideration is safety. The person guilty of manslaughter goes into exile, not to punish him, but to protect him from those who may seek vengeance. He stays there until the death of the High Priest because only after a national tragedy can you assume that people have given up thoughts of taking revenge for their dead family member. This is a key difference in how we conceptualise the cities of refuge.
What is the fundamental difference between these two opinions? The Talmud assumes a certain level of supernatural reality. Rambam’s explanation is non-supernatural. It belongs broadly to what we would call social psychology. His theory is that people would come to terms with their grief when they were not exposed to the person they blamed. Not every approach to religious faith in Judaism presupposes supernatural events – events that cannot be explained within the parameters of science. God is beyond the universe, but His actions within the universe may nonetheless be in accordance with natural law and causation.
In this view, prayer changes the world because it changes us. Torah has the power to transform society, not through miracles but through effects that are fully explicable in terms of political theory and social science. This is not the only approach to Judaism, but it is Rambam’s, and it remains one of the two great ways of understanding our faith.
Around the Shabbat Table
How do you think the cities of refuge functioned in early societies?
What are some modern-day examples of places or systems that protect people and maintain justice?
Why is it important to have different interpretations and perspectives within a religion or belief system?
Parsha in Passing
Parshat Masei recounts the 42 stops of Bnei Yisrael, starting from their departure from Egypt and ending at their final encampment in the plains of Moav, just across the Yarden (Jordan) River from Canaan.
We also learn about the outlines of the borders of the land promised to Bnei Yisrael when they enter into Israel. The special cities called the arei miklat (cities of refuge) are also listed. These were built to provide safety and temporary exile for people who had accidentally caused someone’s death.
Lastly, the parsha resolves an inheritance issue involving the daughters of Tzelafchad. To keep their father’s property within their own tribe, these women chose to marry men from the same tribe. This prevented the land from being transferred to another tribe through marriage, and appeased the men in their tribe too.
Parsha People
The Journeys of Bnei Yisrael: From Egypt’s chains to the Promised Land, forty-two stops, and a trek across the sand.
The Cities of Refuge: After we’ve killed, when it was accidental, we find a safe rental, and learn to be gentle.
B’not Tzelafchad: Five sisters fighting, their father’s land their claim, change inheritance laws, their rights now in their name.
The Leviim: No fields to plough, no crops to tend or reap, God’s chosen tribe, and the sacred charge they keep.
Parsha Practical
The concept of cities of refuge teaches us a powerful lesson about forgiveness and healing. These cities provided a space where accidental killers could find safety, allowing time for emotions to cool and justice to be served without immediate retaliation.
This system recognised that while grief and anger are natural responses to loss, unchecked vengeance can perpetuate cycles of violence. We can apply this wisdom in our modern lives by creating emotional and mental “cities of refuge” - spaces where we pause before reacting to hurt, allowing time for reflection and understanding.
For young children, this might be a quiet corner with some plush toys and a cosy cushion. For adults, this might be a walk outside in fresh air.
True forgiveness often requires time and distance from the initial pain. Giving ourselves and others this grace period opens the door to genuine reconciliation. Just as the death of the Kohen Gadol signalled a time for new beginnings, we, too, can look for opportunities to let go of past grievances and start anew.
What’s your process for working through anger and frustration?
Parsha Playoff
Let’s play “Cities of Refuge”. One or two players are designated as the Accidental Killers while all others play the Avengers. The Killers must quickly flee to one of six (or any number you choose) designated “safe cities” scattered across the play area. The Avengers, after counting to ten, chase the Killers. If caught before they reach a city, the Killer is “out.” However, once inside a city’s boundaries, they’re safe from the Avengers. The twist? Killers can only stay in a “city” for one minute. Then they’re on the run, and the Avengers again count to ten!
Parsha Philosophy
There is a fundamental divide within Jewish philosophies that the cities of refuge can help to unpack. While some schools of thought understand the proceedings surrounding the arei miklat as “supernatural”, others believe they are more “natural” occurrences. The supernatural view, brought by the Talmud Bavli, assumes Divine intervention in daily life and sees exile as a form of atonement. In contrast, the natural approach, as taken by the Rambam, explains religious laws through rational, psychological, and sociological lenses. Rambam views exile as a safety measure and the Kohen Gadol’s death as a unifying national tragedy that helps people overcome personal vendettas.
This philosophical split runs throughout Jewish history, from ancient sages to modern thinkers. But remember, not all approaches to Judaism demand belief in supernatural events. The Rambam, for example, sees Divine action within the framework of natural law and causation. In this view, prayer and Torah study can transform the world through their impact on human behaviour and society rather than through miracles. Ultimately, both schools of thought are valid, representing different ways of understanding faith and Divine interaction with the world.
Do you see world events through a scientific lens, or through a more supernatural lens?
Parsha Parable
Family Reunion
Long ago, twin brothers Yaakov and Eisav grew into very different individuals. Eisav loved hunting, while Yaakov preferred staying home and learning Torah.
Then Yaakov bought Eisav’s birthright and, later, he tricked him out of his father’s blessing. Eisav was so furious that he threatened to kill Yaakov and their mother, Rivka, saw that they needed space from each other. She told Yaakov, “Go to your Uncle Lavan’s house until your brother’s anger subsides.”
Yaakov left home, spending many years away. He became a husband and father, as well as a successful farmer, while Eisav created his own community.
When Yaakov decided to leave Lavan’s house and bring his family home, he sent messengers ahead with gifts to show Eisav he wanted to make peace. But he was still fearful about facing his twin. Then, instead of the angry brother he remembered, he saw Eisav running to hug him! The time apart had given them both space to reflect and grow. Eisav had let go of his anger, and Yaakov had learned valuable life lessons. They reconciled and realised they had grown into two different people with different lives. They parted ways again, this time peacefully and no longer afraid.
Parsha Puzzle
Question: In what scenario would a person be forced to stay in a city of refuge forever?
Answer: If they accidentally killed the Kohen Gadol, or if the Kohen Gadol accidentally killed someone. Normally they would return home after the death of the Kohen Gadol but in both these cases, there is no Kohen Gadol in active service at the very moment the act is committed (Rashi Gemara Sanhedrin 18b).
Parsha Ponderings
What Would You Do...
...if someone did something terrible to you, but it was 100% by accident? How could you find forgiveness?
Written as an accompaniment to Rabbi Sacks’ weekly Covenant & Conversation essay, the
Family Edition
is aimed at connecting teenagers with his ideas and thoughts on the parsha.
With thanks to the Schimmel Family for their generous sponsorship of Covenant &
Conversation, dedicated in loving memory of Harry (Chaim) Schimmel.
“I have loved the Torah of R’ Chaim Schimmel ever since I first encountered it. It
strives to be not just about truth on the surface but also its connection to a
deeper truth beneath. Together with Anna, his remarkable wife of 60 years, they
built a life dedicated to love of family, community, and Torah. An extraordinary
couple who have moved me beyond measure by the example of their lives.” — Rabbi
Sacks
The Parsha in a Nutshell Masei begins with a list of the forty-two stopping points of the Israelites on their forty-year journey through the wilderness,…
Natural or Supernatural?
Family Edition
Share
Read In
Download PDF
Main Essay
Matot, Masei
Natural or Supernatural?
Read More >
The Summary
This summary is adapted from this week’s main Covenant & Conversation essay by Rabbi Sacks.
The book of Bamidbar ends with the cities of refuge, the six arei miklat – three on each side of the Jordan – set apart as places where people found innocent of murder (but guilty of manslaughter) were temporarily exiled.
In early societies there was a concern that when a member of their family or tribe had been killed, people would take the law into their own hands. Thus would begin a cycle of vengeance and retaliation that had no natural end, one revenge-killing leading to another and another, until the community had been decimated.
If, for example, Dan killed Gil and was deemed innocent of murder by the court (it was an accident, there was no malice aforethought, and the Dan and Gil were not enemies) then there was still the danger that Gil’s family might feel justice had not been served. Their close relative was killed, but Dan was not punished.
It was to prevent such situations of “blood vengeance” that the arei miklat were established. Those who had committed manslaughter were sent there, and so long as they were within the city limits, they were protected by law. They had to stay there until – according to our parsha – “the death of the Kohen Gadol”.
The obvious question is, what does the death of the High Priest have to do with this? There seems no connection whatsoever between manslaughter, blood vengeance, and the High Priest, let alone his death.
Let us look at two quite different interpretations. They are interesting in their own right, but more generally they show us the range of thought within Judaism. According to the Talmud Bavli, the Kohen Gadol had a share, however small, in the guilt for the fact that someone died. Murder is not something that the Kohen Gadol’s prayer could have averted. The murderer was guilty of the crime, having chosen to do what he did, and no one else can be blamed. But manslaughter, precisely because it happens without anyone intending that it should, is the kind of event that the High Priest’s prayers might have averted. Therefore, it is not fully atoned for until the Kohen Gadol dies. Only then can the manslaughterer go free.
The Rambam offers an entirely different explanation: the death of the Kohen Gadol causes collective grief. People tend to forget their own misfortunes in the face of a larger national loss. That is when they let go of their sense of injustice and desire for revenge. It then becomes safe for the person found guilty of manslaughter to return home.
The Rambam does not see the law of the arei miklat in terms of guilt or punishment. The only relevant consideration is safety. The person guilty of manslaughter goes into exile, not to punish him, but to protect him from those who may seek vengeance. He stays there until the death of the High Priest because only after a national tragedy can you assume that people have given up thoughts of taking revenge for their dead family member. This is a key difference in how we conceptualise the cities of refuge.
What is the fundamental difference between these two opinions? The Talmud assumes a certain level of supernatural reality. Rambam’s explanation is non-supernatural. It belongs broadly to what we would call social psychology. His theory is that people would come to terms with their grief when they were not exposed to the person they blamed. Not every approach to religious faith in Judaism presupposes supernatural events – events that cannot be explained within the parameters of science. God is beyond the universe, but His actions within the universe may nonetheless be in accordance with natural law and causation.
In this view, prayer changes the world because it changes us. Torah has the power to transform society, not through miracles but through effects that are fully explicable in terms of political theory and social science. This is not the only approach to Judaism, but it is Rambam’s, and it remains one of the two great ways of understanding our faith.
Around the Shabbat Table
Parsha in Passing
Parshat Masei recounts the 42 stops of Bnei Yisrael, starting from their departure from Egypt and ending at their final encampment in the plains of Moav, just across the Yarden (Jordan) River from Canaan.
We also learn about the outlines of the borders of the land promised to Bnei Yisrael when they enter into Israel. The special cities called the arei miklat (cities of refuge) are also listed. These were built to provide safety and temporary exile for people who had accidentally caused someone’s death.
Lastly, the parsha resolves an inheritance issue involving the daughters of Tzelafchad. To keep their father’s property within their own tribe, these women chose to marry men from the same tribe. This prevented the land from being transferred to another tribe through marriage, and appeased the men in their tribe too.
Parsha People
The Journeys of Bnei Yisrael: From Egypt’s chains to the Promised Land, forty-two stops, and a trek across the sand.
The Cities of Refuge: After we’ve killed, when it was accidental, we find a safe rental, and learn to be gentle.
B’not Tzelafchad: Five sisters fighting, their father’s land their claim, change inheritance laws, their rights now in their name.
The Leviim: No fields to plough, no crops to tend or reap, God’s chosen tribe, and the sacred charge they keep.
Parsha Practical
The concept of cities of refuge teaches us a powerful lesson about forgiveness and healing. These cities provided a space where accidental killers could find safety, allowing time for emotions to cool and justice to be served without immediate retaliation.
This system recognised that while grief and anger are natural responses to loss, unchecked vengeance can perpetuate cycles of violence. We can apply this wisdom in our modern lives by creating emotional and mental “cities of refuge” - spaces where we pause before reacting to hurt, allowing time for reflection and understanding.
For young children, this might be a quiet corner with some plush toys and a cosy cushion. For adults, this might be a walk outside in fresh air.
True forgiveness often requires time and distance from the initial pain. Giving ourselves and others this grace period opens the door to genuine reconciliation. Just as the death of the Kohen Gadol signalled a time for new beginnings, we, too, can look for opportunities to let go of past grievances and start anew.
Parsha Playoff
Let’s play “Cities of Refuge”. One or two players are designated as the Accidental Killers while all others play the Avengers. The Killers must quickly flee to one of six (or any number you choose) designated “safe cities” scattered across the play area. The Avengers, after counting to ten, chase the Killers. If caught before they reach a city, the Killer is “out.” However, once inside a city’s boundaries, they’re safe from the Avengers. The twist? Killers can only stay in a “city” for one minute. Then they’re on the run, and the Avengers again count to ten!
Parsha Philosophy
There is a fundamental divide within Jewish philosophies that the cities of refuge can help to unpack. While some schools of thought understand the proceedings surrounding the arei miklat as “supernatural”, others believe they are more “natural” occurrences. The supernatural view, brought by the Talmud Bavli, assumes Divine intervention in daily life and sees exile as a form of atonement. In contrast, the natural approach, as taken by the Rambam, explains religious laws through rational, psychological, and sociological lenses. Rambam views exile as a safety measure and the Kohen Gadol’s death as a unifying national tragedy that helps people overcome personal vendettas.
This philosophical split runs throughout Jewish history, from ancient sages to modern thinkers. But remember, not all approaches to Judaism demand belief in supernatural events. The Rambam, for example, sees Divine action within the framework of natural law and causation. In this view, prayer and Torah study can transform the world through their impact on human behaviour and society rather than through miracles. Ultimately, both schools of thought are valid, representing different ways of understanding faith and Divine interaction with the world.
Parsha Parable
Family Reunion
Long ago, twin brothers Yaakov and Eisav grew into very different individuals. Eisav loved hunting, while Yaakov preferred staying home and learning Torah.
Then Yaakov bought Eisav’s birthright and, later, he tricked him out of his father’s blessing. Eisav was so furious that he threatened to kill Yaakov and their mother, Rivka, saw that they needed space from each other. She told Yaakov, “Go to your Uncle Lavan’s house until your brother’s anger subsides.”
Yaakov left home, spending many years away. He became a husband and father, as well as a successful farmer, while Eisav created his own community.
When Yaakov decided to leave Lavan’s house and bring his family home, he sent messengers ahead with gifts to show Eisav he wanted to make peace. But he was still fearful about facing his twin. Then, instead of the angry brother he remembered, he saw Eisav running to hug him! The time apart had given them both space to reflect and grow. Eisav had let go of his anger, and Yaakov had learned valuable life lessons. They reconciled and realised they had grown into two different people with different lives. They parted ways again, this time peacefully and no longer afraid.
Parsha Puzzle
Question: In what scenario would a person be forced to stay in a city of refuge forever?
Parsha Ponderings
What Would You Do...
...if someone did something terrible to you, but it was 100% by accident? How could you find forgiveness?
DOWNLOAD AND PRINT THE FAMILY EDITION >
Written as an accompaniment to Rabbi Sacks’ weekly Covenant & Conversation essay, the Family Edition is aimed at connecting teenagers with his ideas and thoughts on the parsha.
With thanks to the Schimmel Family for their generous sponsorship of Covenant & Conversation, dedicated in loving memory of Harry (Chaim) Schimmel.
More on Matot, Masei
The Complexity of Human Rights
My Teacher: In Memoriam
The Religious Significance of Israel
Priorities