Arim Miklat, Chesed, and the Purpose of Giving

Topics

• Arei Miklat and the Responsibility to Care
• Caring for a Person Who Has Failed
• Hashem Makes a Road for the Sinner
• Moshe Rabbeinu’s Final Act
• “This Is the Whole Purpose of Man”
• Torah Learning Is Constant Chesed
• Three Forms of Chesed
• Why Talmud Torah Appears Among the Acts of Chesed
• The Healthy Cells That Sustain the World
• Sin’as Chinam Attacks the Purpose of Creation
• Mordechai’s Greatness: Seeking the Good of His People
• Stretch Out the Hand Even When Success Seems Impossible
• The Tears of Rav Avraham Pam
• “I Did Not Say I Could. I Said I Would Try.”
• A Rebbe Who Thought About Another Person’s Feelings
• “How Would You Feel?”
• “You Shall Designate for Yourselves”

Transcript

# Arei Miklat and the Responsibility to Care

The parashah of the *arei miklat* begins with the *go’el hadam*. A person caused a death unintentionally, and the Torah establishes cities in which he can take refuge, live safely, and begin rebuilding his life (Bamidbar 35:9–15).

## Caring for a Person Who Has Failed

Why does the Torah devote cities, roads, signs, and so much public effort to someone whose actions caused tragedy? Even if the act was unintentional, Chazal indicate that such an event is not always spiritually meaningless. Divine providence may be bringing an earlier, hidden failing to account (Makkos 10b). Nevertheless, the Torah insists that this person must be protected and given a place to live.

The Alter of Kelm draws a fundamental lesson from here. When we see someone commit an aveirah, our instinct is often to distance ourselves from him. We may even persuade ourselves that rejecting or humiliating him is a mitzvah: “Why are you helping that person? He is a baal aveirah.”

The Torah teaches otherwise. Even when a person has done wrong, we remain obligated to care about his welfare. His failure does not release us from the obligation to help him. The *arei miklat* were created precisely for the person whose actions brought tragedy.

## Hashem Makes a Road for the Sinner

The Gemara applies the pasuk, “Good and upright is Hashem; therefore He instructs sinners in the way,” to the cities of refuge (Tehillim 25:8; Makkos 10b). Hashem does not merely command the sinner where to go. He prepares the road and directs him toward safety. Signs were placed at the crossroads bearing the word *miklat*, so that the fleeing person would not lose his way.

This is called the goodness of Hashem. Hashem’s goodness is revealed not only in what He gives the righteous, but also in the path He prepares for the person who has sinned. Because Hashem is good, we must learn to be good in the same way.

## Moshe Rabbeinu’s Final Act

The Chofetz Chaim points out that one of Moshe Rabbeinu’s final acts was to designate the three cities of refuge on the eastern side of the Yarden (Devarim 4:41–42). The final act of a great person reveals what he considers important. Moshe Rabbeinu concluded his life of leadership by preparing refuge for another Jew.

We should therefore not regard *arei miklat* as a minor technical law. Moshe Rabbeinu’s finale was to make certain that even a person who caused death unintentionally would have somewhere to run, somewhere to live, and an opportunity to begin again.

# “This Is the Whole Purpose of Man”

The introduction written by Rav Yitzchak of Volozhin to *Nefesh HaChaim* records that his father, Rav Chaim Volozhiner, would repeatedly rebuke him for not sufficiently sharing the suffering of others. Rav Chaim would tell him that this is the purpose of man: a person was not created for himself, but to benefit others with every ability that Hashem gave him.

That is an extraordinary definition of life. A person is here to notice another Jew’s pain and to ask what he can do about it. We become so occupied with ourselves that we can pass suffering without truly seeing it. Rav Chaim taught that caring about another person’s difficulty is not an additional virtue; it is central to why man was created.

The Gra likewise urged his family to make other people happy. So much of Torah concerns bringing good to another person, honoring him, helping him, and relieving his burden.

## Torah Learning Is Constant Chesed

One might ask: if helping others is the purpose of man, where does Talmud Torah fit? Talmud Torah is the greatest obligation. Is learning separate from the work of chesed?

The answer is that genuine Torah learning is itself among the greatest forms of chesed. The *Ruach Chaim* explains that mitzvos bring blessing and shefa into the world. When many people fail to fulfill their obligations, those who learn Torah sustain the world and draw down blessing even for people who do not deserve it on their own (Ruach Chaim to Avos 1:3).

A person sitting and learning may appear to be occupied with himself. In truth, his Torah supports the entire creation. Ordinary chesed assists one person at one particular moment. Torah is a continuous chesed, supplying spiritual life and blessing to the world.

This does not apply only to someone sitting in a beis medrash. Every person was given a field in which to help. The wealthy person can help through his money. Another can help through his strength. A person without either can still offer encouragement, respect, and a kind word.

## Three Forms of Chesed

Chesed can be performed in three forms: with one’s body, by physically assisting another person; with one’s money, by supplying what he lacks; and with one’s soul, by giving honor, encouragement, warmth, and emotional support.

People often underestimate the third form. To treat a person properly, to make him feel seen, or to restore his dignity is genuine chesed.

## Why Talmud Torah Appears Among the Acts of Chesed

The Mishnah lists honoring parents, acts of kindness, hospitality, visiting the sick, providing for a bride, escorting the dead, concentration in prayer, making peace, and concludes, “Talmud Torah is equal to them all” (Peah 1:1).

Why is Talmud Torah included in a list dominated by *bein adam lachaveiro*? Because Torah does not stand outside the work of helping people. Torah changes the learner, fills the world with blessing, and sustains others. Properly understood, Talmud Torah is itself part of the great obligation to bring good into the creation.

# The Healthy Cells That Sustain the World

Talmud Torah belongs among the mitzvos of *bein adam lachaveiro* because Torah creates enormous good in the world. It refines the learner, brings blessing to the creation, and prevents the world from becoming entirely corrupted.

As a person grows older, he begins to recognize how much cruelty, selfishness, betrayal, and thoughtlessness exist. People injure one another, sometimes without even realizing what they are doing. One can look at the world and wonder: what keeps it from becoming completely rotten?

The answer is that there are still people who sit and learn Torah. A body cannot survive unless some healthy cells remain. In the same way, the world survives because there are still spiritually healthy people whose Torah and avodah uphold it. A learner may not recognize the chesed he is performing, but the world is receiving life through him.

## Sin’as Chinam Attacks the Purpose of Creation

Chazal teach that the second Beis HaMikdash was destroyed because of *sin’as chinam* (Yoma 9b). This forces us to ask: how can baseless hatred be placed alongside the gravest aveiros?

The baalei mussar explain that man was created to give. The entire purpose of his existence is to bring benefit to others. *Sin’as chinam* does not merely add one more aveirah to the world; it reverses the purpose for which man was created. Instead of supporting another person, one seeks to harm him. Instead of building the world, one tears it down.

Other aveiros are also destructive, but hatred strikes at the foundation of human existence. If creation is built upon giving, then *sin’as chinam* is the denial of creation itself.

A person must therefore ask not only, “What aveirah did I avoid?” He must ask, “What good am I bringing into the life of another person?” That is the measure of whether he is fulfilling the purpose for which he was placed in this world.

# Mordechai’s Greatness: Seeking the Good of His People

If someone were asked to describe Mordechai’s greatness, he might answer that Mordechai was a navi, a member of the Sanhedrin, and the man through whom Klal Yisrael was saved. Yet the final description given by the Megillah is different: “He sought the good of his people and spoke peace to all his descendants” (Esther 10:3).

That is Mordechai’s epitaph: *doresh tov le’amo*. He did not merely respond when people came to him. He searched for ways to help. His greatness was expressed in the fact that the welfare of Klal Yisrael occupied his mind.

Rabbeinu Yonah writes that a person is obligated to exert himself in seeking another person’s good and to labor for his improvement, whether the person is poor or wealthy. One must devise counsel and ask: What idea can I suggest? What opening can I find? What can I do to make this person’s situation better?

It is not enough to say, “I cannot solve the problem.” The obligation is to search.

## Stretch Out the Hand Even When Success Seems Impossible

The Kotzker Rebbe is quoted as asking what Bas Pharaoh thought when she stretched out her hand toward the basket containing Moshe Rabbeinu. The basket was beyond her natural reach. What did she expect to accomplish?

The answer is that she did not calculate whether success was possible. She stretched out her hand because another person needed help. Hashem then enabled her hand to reach farther than it naturally could (Shemos 2:5; Rashi ad loc.).

A person must extend his hand and attempt to help. Whether the effort succeeds belongs to Hashem.

## The Tears of Rav Avraham Pam

Years ago, a father in Queens approached me after his son had been removed from yeshiva. He was distraught and asked whether someone could call the principal on his behalf. I initially thought there was little point. We did not know the full story, and there appeared to be no reason the principal would listen.

The father began to cry. He was so overwhelmed that he could barely function. I suggested that he contact Rav Avraham Pam, who might be able to intervene. When it became clear that the father could not manage the call himself, I called Rav Pam.

I expected to reach an assistant or to leave a message. Rav Pam himself answered the telephone. I explained the situation, and he simply said, “Come.” He gave us an appointment.

On the appointed day, the father asked me to accompany him. I initially felt that it was not my story and that I did not belong there. Then I realized that it was an opportunity to meet Rav Pam, and I agreed to go.

# “I Did Not Say I Could. I Said I Would Try.”

We arrived at Rav Pam’s home. It was strikingly simple and humble. The father began explaining what had happened, but he was so hurt and agitated that his words were difficult to follow. I began speaking in his place.

As the father became more emotional, I looked at Rav Pam and saw that he was crying. He did not know this man. He did not know the child. Yet the father’s pain entered him so deeply that he could not remain untouched.

At that moment I thought: this is a rebbe. From then onward, I sought every opportunity to speak with Rav Pam and to learn from him. It was not merely his Torah knowledge that drew me. It was those tears.

Rav Pam took out his well-known telephone book and asked for the principal’s number. The father smiled, assuming that Rav Pam was confident he could have the child readmitted. Rav Pam immediately corrected him: “I did not say I could. I said I am going to try.”

That sentence contains an entire approach to chesed. A person is not responsible to guarantee the outcome. He is responsible to make the effort. “It is not upon you to complete the work, but neither are you free to withdraw from it” (Avos 2:16).

In the end, the principal did not accept Rav Pam’s request. The intervention did not succeed. But Rav Pam had done his part. He had cared, cried, called, and tried.

## A Rebbe Who Thought About Another Person’s Feelings

There was another incident that revealed the same middah.

Rav Pam once wished to attend a family simchah of mine in France. I did not want him to undertake the difficult trip. My brother was making a *pidyon haben* at approximately the same time, and Rav Pam was a kohen. I suggested that he attend my brother’s *pidyon haben* instead. I would regard his participation there as though he had attended my own simchah.

Rav Pam had no independent connection to my brother, yet he came and served as the kohen. It was a beautiful *pidyon haben*.

Later, when I was making a *pidyon haben* of my own, I called Rav Pam and told him the date. He explained that his entire day was already committed—to Torah Umesorah in the morning, another communal responsibility later, and Agudah at night. He simply could not attend.

I reassured him that it was fine. He had already attended my brother’s *pidyon haben* for my sake, and I would consider that as though he had come to mine.

# “How Would You Feel?”

I ended the telephone call after assuring Rav Pam that he did not need to attend. Within moments, the telephone rang again.

“This is Avraham Pam,” he said. Rav Pam never introduced himself with a title. “Make the arrangements. I am coming to the *pidyon haben*.”

Then he explained why: “How would you feel if I went to your brother’s *pidyon haben* for you, but I did not come to yours?”

That was Rav Pam. He immediately placed himself inside another person’s feelings. He was not satisfied that his absence was justified. He asked what the other person might experience.

This is what it means to carry another person’s burden. Chesed is not only giving money or performing a physical favor. Chesed means entering the emotional world of another Jew and asking how one’s actions will affect him.

## “You Shall Designate for Yourselves”

With this, we can understand the Torah’s wording regarding the cities of refuge: “You shall designate for yourselves cities; cities of refuge shall they be for you, and the accidental killer shall flee there” (Bamidbar 35:11).

Why does the Torah say *lachem*—for yourselves? The city is apparently being prepared for the accidental killer, not for the people designating it.

The answer is that the Torah is defining our responsibility. The *arei miklat* are for the killer, but the obligation to establish them is ours. We must find a place for him. We must prepare the road. We must create the refuge. We must make it possible for him to live.

The word *lachem* teaches that another person’s welfare is our concern. When a Jew needs refuge, encouragement, assistance, or another opportunity, we cannot say, “That is his problem.” The Torah says that it is *lachem*. It belongs to us. We are responsible to search for a way to help.