Looking for fake watch a replica Rolex watch? Our Hands did not Spill this Blood… or did they? Parshas Behar-Bechukosai | Ner Tamid

*In Memory of Efraim Gordon*

יָדֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת הַדָּם הַזֶּה וְעֵינֵינוּ לֹא רָאוּ”

Our hands did not spill this blood and our eyes did not see it”

These are words proclaimed by the elders of the Jewish People when an unsolved murder takes place in their town. It’s part of a dramatic ritual found in Sefer Devarim known as Eglah Arufah. A victim of murder is found, no one knows who killed the individual, a calf is taken to a barren valley where it is brutally killed. And then all the leaders of the town proclaim:

ָדֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת הַדָּם הַזֶּה וְעֵינֵינוּ לֹא רָאוּ”

Our hands did not spill this blood and our eyes did not see it”

It’s a strange statement, to put it mildly. Do we really need the elders of a community to state that they did not spill this blood? Did anyone really accuse the elders of doing so that they need to defend themselves?!

Of course not.

Rather the Torah is teaching us a radical idea about what it means to be a community and the extent of our responsibility for one another. If the elders need to state that we are not responsible that means that there is an implicit accusation against them that they are responsible for something. They are not accused of murder, but they are accused of enabling murder by allowing an environment to exist where an unsolved murder could take place; an environment where someone knows they could get away with something of that nature, an environment where a victim is defenseless, an environment lacking in justice.

We are responsible, the Torah is teaching us, not only for what we do or what we see. We are responsible to ensure that we live in a safe city, in a just society, in a culture where everyone know that we look out for each other and we will not allow injustice to prevail.

To that accusation, the elders must soul-search, they must do a cheshbon hanefesh, and ask themselves, are we really not responsible in any way? Did we really not have anything to do with this?

 

As I am sure you are all well aware, there was a murder in our community this past week. An unsolved murder. A young man visiting from Israel, who came for a joyous occasion, for a wedding, murdered on the doorstep of his uncle and aunt. And we must ask ourselves that same question, the same accusation leveled against the elders, were we responsible in any way for this tragedy?

I’ve been trying to do a cheshbon hanefesh, some soul searching on this question, and I’d like to share with you a couple of reflections:

1 – The first is positive.

In 1982, in a Senate hearing where some senators were threatening to cut off aid to the State of Israel, then Prime Minister, Menachem Begin famously replied: “Don’t threaten us with cutting off your aid. It will not work. I am not a Jew with trembling knees. I am a proud Jew with 3,700 years of civilized history. Nobody came to our aid when we were dying in the gas chambers and ovens. Nobody came to our aid when we were striving to create our country. We paid for it. We fought for it. We died for it. We will stand by our principles. We will defend them. And, when necessary, we will die for them again, with or without your aid.”

We had been conditioned for thousands of years to beg and grovel and be dependent on others for our safety. Even in the Golden Age of Spanish Jewry, one of the greatest eras in our history, Yehuda Halevi describes his own people as the despised people.

But thank G-d, that has changed. More accurately, we have changed it – around the time of the establishment of the State of Israel, we started to develop pride in our culture, pride in our people, and pride in our traditions. And it’s only grown. We have developed a sense of independence and a recognition that we could and must take care of ourselves. Over the past few decades, the political involvement of Jews here in the US has grown exponentially, ensuring that we are represented on every level of government.

I shudder to imagine what this week would have looked like if we did not have a Shomrim who could give us an extra sense of safety when walking outside, if we did not have a Jewish councilman who we could turn to who did not sleep until there was sufficient security on the ground, or if we did not have a delegate who is also an assistant state’s attorney who can ensure that there is justice in our city.   

On that end, we have taken steps, with our votes and communal infrastructure that we support, to try to ensure that our community is a safe one, and thank G-d for that.

2 – Though we have grown, as a community, in our self-confidence, I don’t think we’ve grown enough. Someone who is truly confident cares not only about themselves, but also cares for others.

Efraim Gordon was not the first person murdered in Baltimore city. So far this year, there have been 107 murders. . Baltimore, as you all know, is not exactly “The greatest city in America” as our benches claim, it is the city with the second highest homicide rate in the country.

One of the prohibitions in this week’s parsha is to not lend a fellow Jew with interest. For centuries, this prohibition and its implicit allowance to lend non-Jews with interest has been the source of explosive tension. Christians interpreted this verse to mean that charging interest on a loan is evil. The fact that Jews would lend Christians on interest and not their fellow Jew caused a good amount of ill-will. It was perceived as Jews not caring about Christians, about deliberately wronging them.

But that’s a mistaken view of the law. The Ramban explains that there is nothing immoral about charging with interest; it’s no different than renting out an item. I rent you my shovel for a few dollars and I’ll rent you my money for a few dollars!

It is not that we do not care about non-Jews. We care deeply for every human being; every human being is created in the image of G-d, every human being is deserving of respect and care and concern. It’s just that when you lend money to your brother or sister, it’s pas nisht, it’s not right to charge interest. Hence the prohibition. But we would never ever deliberately wrong a person just because they are not Jewish.

Unfortunately, too many Jews seem to have adopted the Christian view; that Jews are in some way meant to look down on non-Jews, that we are not supposed to care. And that’s wrong. It’s a perversion of our religious beliefs.

Once again, Efraim Gordon was not the first person murdered in Baltimore city. Did you lose sleep when a child was murdered by a stray bullet? Did you shed a tear when an innocent grandmother was mugged and killed?

“They’re not Jews?!” People say.

I know. And I agree! We cry for a brother differently than we cry for a cousin. We cry for a cousin differently than we do for a friend. But we still mourn the loss of life. Of course, losing family is more hurtful and more painful and that’s the way it should be. And the senseless murder of Efraim Gordon is more painful. But we live in a city where people are being murdered all the time. Do we care?

“As long as they stay on the other side of Northern Parkway, I don’t mind.”

That is ludicrous and beyond insensitive. There is a bloodbath in our city – doesn’t that bother you in any way more than our personal safety?!

It should. Because if it doesn’t then we cannot justifiably say,

  יָדֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת הַדָּם הַזֶּה וְעֵינֵינוּ לֹא רָאוּ”

Our hands did not spill this blood and our eyes did not see it”

Can we say those words? If we don’t care about justice, only Jews. If we don’t care about Franklin Ave., only Fords Lane?! Can we say those words?

We don’t live in a ghetto anymore; we need to develop sensitivity and care for everyone around us. And we need to demand safe streets on both sides of Northern Parkway, because everyone deserves to live in a just society.

Whether that means more policing, less policing, different policing. Better education system, better judicial system. I’ll leave that all to you. Whatever we’re doing now is not working and the very least we must do is care. If we don’t care, we are guilty.

Which brings me to my 3rd and final reflection – There is a comment of Rashi which I’d like to share with you. Rashi is also bothered by the question that we asked; in what way did the elders sin? No one could possibly be blaming them for murder.

Rashi answers, “What the elders are saying is that we did not see this murdered man. Had we seen him, we would have given him food and we would have escorted him out of the city.” The implication being that had the community been more supportive of this individual, the murder may not have taken place. Perhaps this is because in a community where everyone is so tight knit, the potential murderer knows that he cannot get away with it; he knows that no one will rest until he is found. But in a community where people do not care deeply about one another…

And so I ask all of you, none of us knew Efraim Gordon, none of us had a chance to give him food and escort him. But he has family who live here. He has cousins and uncles and aunts who are reeling. Have we provided them with any comfort? Have we made it known to them in any way that we care?

I am guilty of this myself. I too, tsk tsked, and caught up on the latest rumors. I too thought about it, talked about, and did nothing, even though there were tens of heartbroken and traumatized family members who had just celebrated a wedding and had their first cousin murdered in the same week living just a few blocks away. I am grateful that someone brought my insensitivity to my attention the other day. I called one of the cousins on Friday and shared some words of comfort on behalf of our shul.

But I ask myself, can I really say that my hands did not spill this blood? If someone had not brought this to my attention, would I have reached out? If someone is in need in my neighborhood, do I bring them food? If someone is dejected, do I support them? Or do I just care about myself, my family, and my friends?

The breaking of the calf’s neck, the entire ceremony of Eglah Arufah is meant to shock us. It is meant to ensure that we never get accustomed to immorality, to injustice, to pain. To borrow a phrase, one death is a tragedy, 107 is a statistic. But it’s not.  

We are in a position to advocate for ourselves, and that is worth celebrating. But strength is not measured by how well you protect yourself, but by how well you protect others. We must look out for our fellow Jews, for our brothers and sisters, and never treat their pain as a story. And we must care for every human being and not rest until we live in a safe city, a city of justice; one in which we can justifiably say, ידֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת הַדָּם הַזֶּה, that our hands did not spill this blood.