Towards the end of this week’s Torah portion, jam packed with 14 positive- thou shalt, and 27 negative- thou shalt not mitzvot, is the obscure ritual of the egla arufa- a calf that is decapitated. Why, you may ask, would one do such a thing? Well- this ritual takes place when a person is found murdered in a field outside town, and no one knows who committed the crime.
Who could be responsible for such a sin, the Torah wonders? How should the community respond? The elders and judges are required to approach the body of the deceased, and take a measurement from where the person lies to each of the surrounding towns. Which town is the closest one? The residents of the nearest town are the ones who perform the ritual.
After the decapitation, the priests come forward, along with the elders of that nearby town. They recite this formula- “Our hands did not shed this blood and our eyes did not witness it.” (Dt. 21:7) They pray for absolution from guilt, and the Torah concludes that by doing “what is right in God’s sight” we purge the guilt of innocent blood from ourselves. (Dt. 21:9)
Not having today’s forensic techniques at their disposal, our ancestors struggled with how to solve this crime. Our tradition places the highest honor on the value of a human life- you know the midrashic text that someone who destroys a single person it is as if they had destroyed the whole world. (BT Sanhedrin 34a) All 5 books of the Torah contain reminders that murder is a capital offense, and the prohibition of murder is enshrined in the 10 commandments. So the discovery of a person who has been murdered is alarming.
As an aside, it is interesting that our portion is immediately followed by precepts regarding the conduct of war. War is not the same as murder, and self-defense is mandated in Jewish tradition.
But back to our scenario. The entire community publicly takes responsibility for this tragedy. Per Maimonides, they call on God as their witness that they kept the roads in good condition and well-protected and that they offered directions and hospitality to anyone in need. The hope is that all of these extravagant gestures of the measuring and the sacrifice and the testimony will bring publicity to the case and encourage witnesses to come forward.
The person is not just quietly buried; there is a need for accountability. We might imagine that a person who dies in such a manner might have been someone on the margins of society. After all, no one came looking for them. No missing persons report was filed. Who is this person who lived and died under the radar? Every human life counts, and if there is no family member to step forward, it is up to all of us to lift up the dignity, the holiness of each and every person.
Sadly, in contemporary culture, murder is hardly even news unless there are some extraordinary circumstances. School has only just begun and another tragic school shooting this week. The Torah makes clear that we are all indirectly responsible for evil that occurs in our community. Our hands did not shed his blood- they didn’t come into our hands and we sent them off without food. Neither did our eyes see them- they didn’t come into our city and we let them go without escorting them on their way. Hachnassat orchim, welcoming guests, is a priority value in our tradition, going back to Abraham and Sarah, and an important practice for each and every one of us today. We are admonished to look within and assess how we are doing at caring for those who are most vulnerable.
Israeli commentator Nehama Leibowitz writes that “The public as a whole and the city nearest to the slain and its elders are responsible for the terrible deed committed in the field. Their whole way of life, their social order, economic, educational and security institutions are answerable for the murder. The guilt is not confined merely to the perpetrator, the whole of society is directly involved.”
The ritual of the egla arufa reminds us that if wrong is being done, we are all responsible. The Torah concludes that this case remains in the “cold case” file, that is, we are not allowed to plant or sow in the location where the gathering occurred. Thus, the space is a constant reminder, a memorial to the crime. And, from a practical perspective, the landowner will be especially committed to solving the murder so that they can reclaim use of their land.
The ritual of the egla arufa reminds us of the value of human life. In Israel today, the organization Zaka is committed to extending dignity to the body after any violent loss. These heroic volunteers show up at the site of bombings and other attacks, including Oct. 7th, to collect every last human remain in order to provide a proper burial.
The bodies of the victims on Oct. 7th were treated by the Hamas terrorists with no dignity, the absolute opposite, in fact. There was zero respect for human life and for the body as a tzelem Elohim, as the image of God. It was sheer and utter brutality.
As we read of the care and concern for the unnamed victim in our parsha, we can be thankful that our tradition is life-affirming and concerned with the dignity of every individual. We pray for a time when this value is a universal value even as we renew our dedication to be among the forces for good in the world.
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