Making sense of the sedra: Shoftim
The unseen among us need to be seen and heard
At the end of this week’s parsha, Shoftim, we are told about the law of a person who is killed in a city, when there is no indication as to who the killer is. The elders of the city closest to the dead body take a calf, and they make the following proclamation: “Our hands did not spill this blood, and our eyes have not seen who spilled this blood. (Let this calf) atone for the Jewish people who you redeemed, and don’t place this blood amongst the Jewish people.” (Deuteronomy 21: 6-8).
They make this proclamation is to show that they have placed sufficient policing services in their cities, and that whatever happens is not their responsibility. However if this were the case, the elders would have nothing to atone for. If their protection of their people was up to scratch there would be no reason for them to apologise for this death. The elders of the community are somehow culpable for what has happened, and this is expressed in their apology.
The Mishna in Sotah explains the confession of the elders as follows: they did not have an opportunity to host and feed him, or to guide him on his way home. Had they done so, this person would not have died. They didn’t see him – they didn’t see how alone he was or that he had nowhere to go. They are apologising for ignoring the plight of a vulnerable member of society who had nobody to turn to. Their inability to truly see him and his plight led to his untimely death.
This reminds me of the song A Most Peculiar Man by Simon and Garfunkel, which tells the story of a man “who had no friends, who seldom spoke, and nobody ever spoke to him because he… wasn’t like them”. The song ends on a tragic note – the man took his own life. There is no-one but some estranged brother in another town who needs to be notified. I am sure there are many men and women who are unseen in our communities, who are on their own, who are simply not seen.
The Torah is telling us that the senior members of the community – even the King and the High Priest, people who have more important matters to deal with – attend this ceremony for a dead man that they didn’t know, precisely because they didn’t know him, and they really should have. Everyone is a somebody. Nobody deserves to be ignored, to simply fade away into the ether.
Herein lies the power of community – to be able to see those who are on their own, who have nowhere else to be except in their lonely world and their tiny room, and remind them that they have value and they are important.
We are told that Abraham invited guests because he wanted to be like God who provides kindness to the entire world. Perhaps there is more involved here than just being kind and giving food to people who are hungry. Perhaps having guests in our homes, especially guests who are isolated, is more about reminding them that they are not alone. Perhaps that is why God himself gives to the world, reminding mankind that we are not alone. We are cared for. We are truly seen by Hashem at all times. May we merit to feel that love and care always.
Rabbi Steven Dansky is at Cranbrook Synagogue
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