From the Cyber Torah Archives

Imagine a horrible gruesome murder. A body is found, somewhere on the highway to Williamsburg. No witnesses, no evidence. The police are completely unable to determine who was responsible. The deceased may even be a member of the Jewish community.

There are immediate practical questions. Who would pay for the funeral arrangements? Which, if any, Rabbi would perform the service? Where would the person be buried?

Then there are significant existential questions that we would confront. One of my classmates in Rabbinical school was killed last year in a bus bombing in Jerusalem. In addition to the sorrow and grief we all felt, we each were forced to confront the fragility of our own lives. Random violence creates fear and highlights our mortality. An incident like this would make us all think twice about the security of our lives. Our parasha this week, Parashat Shofetim, gives us certain rules for just such an occurrence in Chapter 21 of Deuteronomy. (paraphrased) "If someone is found, murdered in the field, and know one knows who kill him, they shall measure the cities which are around the slain person. The city which is nearest shall offer a sacrifice and say the following: `Forgive O Lord, Your people Israel, whom You have redeemed, and suffer not innocent blood to remain in the midst of your people Israel.'" The Bible requires the community to accept some level of responsibility. They must take a significant financial loss in making the offering, and they must acknowledge corporate culpability..

Maimonides (or Rambam, Rabbi Moses ben Maimon) , a Sefardic philospher of the 11th century, makes this point in the Guide to the Perplexed. He explains that the community engages in this ritual to acknowledge that the community did indeed live up to its obligations to maintain the roads in safety and to provide for the distressed so that hunger did not drive a man to murder. Second, he explains that they engage in this ritual because the murderer in all likelihood is from the general area. The ritual serves to publicize the event and make it far more likely that the criminal will be caught.

Nachmanides (Or Ramban, Rabbi Moses ben Nahman), a Bible critic of the 13th century, differs with Maimonides. He explains that "Just like the Goat sent out into the wilderness [the original scapegoat] at Yom Kippur, this ritual is included by the Sages in the khukim - the laws which defy human understanding."

We as a people faced a tragedy this week - another bombing in Jerusalem on Thursday. At last count, 8 dead and over one hundred wounded. Rambam might say we have some communal culpability because of how we have treated Arabs, by sealing off the territories and denying the Arab's prosperity. Just as hunger can drive a man to murder, so also people with no economic stake in a society are far more willing to engage in terrorism. Yet this type of social determinism fails to address the deeper issues. Societies may limit choices, but people choose. I refuse to acknowledge social circumstances justify setting off a bomb in an outdoor mall filled with tourists and people out enjoying the day. The act is senseless. It defies explanation.

Ramban highlights the senseless nature of this type of violence. By linking this ritual to the Goat sent out into the wild, Ramban highlights the incomprehensible aspect of human suffering. Why send a goat out into the wildnerness with the community's sins on it? Why make a sacrificial offering and engage in a communal confession for an act of which we know we are innocent?

Acts like these unbalance the world. They require a tikkun, some type of remedy to allow us to go on. These rituals give us the tools to begin finding meaning out of the meaningless. By being together, by saying certain ritual formulas, by inviting God to be a part of our grieving process, we begin the process of healing.

This coming Thursday, we as a community will share a ritual together at Rodef Sholom at 7:30 p.m. in an event sponsored by the JCC. We will say certain words and certain prayers. None of these rituals do anything rational or intellectual. Yet they begin the process of restoring the balance in the world. They are a true tikkun olam, repair of the world.