“Then Moshe separated three cities on Ever HaYarden… so that a murderer can flee there….” (Devarim 4:41-42)
IN
the pesukim preceding these, Moshe speaks to Bnei Yisrael about Hashem’s revelation at Har Sinai. Then the Torah seems to interrupt this thought to relate that Moshe designated three cities as arei miklat — cities of refuge where someone who’d accidentally killed another could be safe from the avenging victim’s relatives. Afterward, the Torah returns to Moshe’s narrative and the Aseres Hadibros. Why the interruption? (Rabbi Dovid Hofstedter, Dorash Dovid).
As soon as the news of Rav Gershon Edelstein’s petirah spread throughout the morning, my phone began ringing. My husband and sons were calling to update me about their plans to go to Bnei Brak for the levayah.
Naturally, I understood that they wanted the opportunity to accompany the gadol hador to his final resting place, but I couldn’t deny I was nervous… the crowds, the heat. “Please stick together,” I urged them. “Make sure you drink. And call me when you can!”
The older boys were going with their yeshivos, and Yitzi would accompany my husband. I sent them all with water bottles and chargers, and then opened my Tehillim to use my time wisely instead of worrying.
What is the purpose of the arei miklat? To punish the person who wasn’t careful enough? If so, wouldn’t it be wiser to place a prison in each city, rather than designate whole cities for these people?
Obviously, the purpose of the arei miklat wasn’t a punishment, but for the murderer to mend his ways.
These arei miklat were also the dwelling places of Shevet Levi, the tribe whose mission it was to serve Hashem in the Beis Hamikdash and to devote themselves to studying Torah and teaching it. Consequently, the murderer was surrounded by pure, holy people, and was inspired to raise himself to the level of the city’s other residents.
This is the reason the Torah “interrupts” the events of Har Sinai with this discussion of arei miklat; because these cities center around Torah and ruchniyus, they perpetuate the spiritual influences of Har Sinai.
Hours later, my husband, Yitzi, and most of my sons walked in the door, tired but grateful they’d had this zechus. But Binyamin wasn’t with them.
