The Limits of Vengeance
Joshua Chapter 20, the Strange and the Spectacular
Verses: 9 — count ‘em, 9.
Is It Read At Synagogue?: There is an Italian custom to read this chapter as the bulk of the Haftarah of the Torah portion of Mattot, the second-to-last portion from the book of Numbers.
Famous Quotes/Phrases: There’s a running joke that half of the chapters of the Torah begin with the phrase, “וַיְדָבֵר ה׳ אֵל מֹשֶה לֵאמֹר” (Vay’daber Adonai El Moshe Laymor) “Adonai spoke to Moses, saying”. It’s a bit of an exaggeration — I don’t think the actual number approaches 50 percent — but it must feel familiar to read the exact same phrase at the stop of this chapter, only with Joshua’s name in place of Moses’ name.
Basic Plot: With the land assigned to Israelite inhabitants, it’s time for Joshua to take care of a bit of unfinished business. God had told Moses that the settled land would need to have several cities of refuge, places where people accused of manslaughter can flee so they can avoid any relatives of the deceased who might wish to kill the offender out of vengeance. They are allowed to stay in these cities when they stand trial and until the high priest who rules on the case passes away. Joshua chooses six such cities, three east of the Jordan River and three west of it.
What’s Strange: The Talmudic tractate of Makkot explains further why these cities of refuge are important to ancient Israelite society: Many people whose loved one was killed, even unintentionally, believed that they had to avenge the death by killing the alleged perpetrator. The fact that these cities existed in ancient times reflected an ethical commitment to proper adjudication. While we don’t have cities of refuge in our society today, the very existence of the Witness Protection Program is evidence that this value survives up until this day, at least in some form.
What’s Spectacular: This law is one of many that reflect the realities of the human condition. While the desire for vengeance is understandable in many cases, acting on that emotion often doesn’t solve anything and only makes matters worse.
Like many emotions, though, the way we respond to it makes a big difference. I recognize this examples is trivial compared to the preservation of human life, but I’m amused by the story told of Ken Griffey, Jr., the Hall of Fame outfielder who spent his best playing years with the Seattle Mariners. As a young boy, Griffey Junior spent a lot of time in the New York Yankees clubhouse when his father, Ken Griffey, Sr., played for that team. The story goes that the Yankees’ management wasn’t kind to Junior and tried to prevent him from spending time with his father, and as a result, Junior swore that he would never play for the Yankees when he grew up.
So was it sweet for Griffey Junior when, in 1995, his team faced off against the Yankees in the American League playoffs? You bet it was, especially when he scored the winning run of the decisive game. But it’s important to remember that Griffey simply wanted to beat the Yankees on the field; he did not (that I know of) deride the team’s players off the field. Small measures of vengeance can feel great, but they don’t change what happened in the past, nor can they make us better people when we make our behavior negative as a result.
Shabbat Shalom!