Unscrolled Shoftim: Chasing After Justice

Much has been made of the enigmatic doubling of the word “justice” in the passage, “Justice, justice, you shall pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20).

Ibn Ezra explains that this is to indicate that we are to pursue justice whether it is to our gain or to our loss. The Vilna Gaon suggests that it refers to justice above, in the supernal realm, and justice below, here on earth. Elsewhere we read that these are two different types of justice—one a ruling, and the other a compromise.

But what about the other word in this oft-quoted passage?

To pursue, lirdof, has an ominous set of connotations. This verb might be better translated as “to chase after.” As a halachic legal category, a rodef, or pursuer, is the term used for someone who is threatening one’s life, whom it is permissible to kill in self-defense.

Indeed, we will even see the verb being used this way in this very Torah portion when Moses (for the umpteenth time) delineates the laws of sanctuary cities.

The concept of the sanctuary city is an intriguing one, all the more so for the sudden emphasis it receives in the Book of Deuteronomy, despite being almost completely absent from the earlier books of the Torah. Sanctuary cities are designated places of refuge for manslayers, those who have killed another person unwittingly, “without having been his enemy in the past” (Ibid 19:4).

These laws establish intent as that which distinguishes a punishable murder from a tragic accident. This is important, but one is still left wondering why this law, in all of its strangeness and particularity, has become such a fixation for Moses. After all, how often do such scenarios occur?

“For instance,” explains Moses, “a man goes with his neighbor into a grove to cut wood; as his hand swings the ax to cut down a tree, the ax-head flies off the handle and strikes the other so that he dies. That man shall flee to one of these cities and live” (Ibid 19:5).

Was this kind of situation common enough to warrant concern? Moses seems to think so, commanding the Israelites to create no less than three sanctuary cities, spaced out so that they are easily reached from all parts of the holy land. “Otherwise,” he continues, “when the distance is great, the blood-avenger, chasing after [lirdof] the manslayer in hot anger, may overtake him and kill him” (Ibid 19:6).

Violence moves quickly. It chases after. Animated by hot rage and bitter grief, it will cross great landscapes and surmount obstacles to attain its bloody goals. If justice is not chased after with equal intensity, it will never outpace anarchic violence. Perhaps, then, this is why Moses stresses the teaching of the sanctuary cities. To chase after justice means to think ahead, before the handle flies from the ax. Such foresight is the one advantage a society of law has over the reactive wrath of a blood-avenger.

 If justice is not chased after with equal intensity, it will never outpace anarchic violence.

The final section of Parashat Shoftim details what to do if a slain body is found in the middle of a field. Here, the pursuer has already fled. The trail has gone cold. “The identity of the slayer is not known” (Ibid 21:1).

We have arrived on the scene too late. Gone with the killer is any chance of justice, and so a ritual is performed to make atonement for the murder.

The magistrates of the town nearest to the corpse are to take an unworked heifer to a lush valley where the grass has never been tilled nor sown. “There, in the valley, they shall break the heifer’s neck … [and then] all the elders of the town nearest to the corpse shall wash their hands over the heifer whose neck was broken in the valley. And they shall make this declaration: ‘Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done’” (Ibid 21:4-7).

A question: Is the fact that their eyes did not see the crime the reason that they should be absolved? Or is it the crime that they are asking to be absolved of?

In other words: Are they stating their case as innocent bystanders? Or are they begging forgiveness as those who were too slow and unwitting to chase after justice and catch it in time?

Matthew Schultz is the author of the essay collection “What Came Before” (2020). He is a rabbinical student at Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts.