Our Cities of Refuge (P. Matot-Masei)

It's summer travel season, which aligns with the approaching spiritual season nine weeks ahead.

Wonderful as travel can be, travelers can tire from traveling – the need to get somewhere, the hurry up and wait, the grip of the wheel. Travelers get bumped and bruised, hot and bothered.  

We all are travelers – whether vacationers or journeyers on the road of life. We all need refuge from things that go sideways on our way. 

Maybe to our surprise, this refuge isn't a rest stop, or community – but something else entirely.

By Rabbi David Evan Markus 
P. Matot-Masei 5786 (2026)

There it is! It's just up ahead, after the next exit! We finally made it!

After 40 years of "Are we there yet?" whining from the backseat, travails, traffic, drama and detours, at last our spiritual ancestors approach their fabled destination: the Land of Promise. They're hot and tired. They're hungry. They need a shower. They're eager to unpack, rest, and begin what's next in the land of "milk and honey" whose allure kept them going for so long.

But first, an odd instruction – seemingly out of left field, but one with deep spiritual, emotional and intellectual meaning in today's turbulent world (Numbers 35:10b-14):

 כִּ֥י אַתֶּ֛ם עֹבְרִ֥ים אֶת־הַיַּרְדֵּ֖ן אַ֥רְצָה כְּנָֽעַן וְהִקְרִיתֶ֤ם לָכֶם֙ עָרִ֔ים עָרֵ֥י מִקְלָ֖ט תִּהְיֶ֣ינָה לָכֶ֑ם וְנָ֥ס שָׁ֙מָּה֙ רֹצֵ֔חַ מַכֵּה־נֶ֖פֶשׁ בִּשְׁגָגָֽה׃ וְהָי֨וּ לָכֶ֧ם הֶעָרִ֛ים לְמִקְלָ֖ט מִגֹּאֵ֑ל וְלֹ֤א יָמוּת֙ הָרֹצֵ֔חַ עַד־עָמְד֛וֹ לִפְנֵ֥י הָעֵדָ֖ה לַמִּשְׁפָּֽט׃ וְהֶעָרִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּתֵּ֑נוּ שֵׁשׁ־עָרֵ֥י מִקְלָ֖ט תִּהְיֶ֥ינָה לָכֶֽם׃ אֵ֣ת ׀ שְׁלֹ֣שׁ הֶעָרִ֗ים תִּתְּנוּ֙ מֵעֵ֣בֶר לַיַּרְדֵּ֔ן וְאֵת֙ שְׁלֹ֣שׁ הֶֽעָרִ֔ים תִּתְּנ֖וּ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן עָרֵ֥י מִקְלָ֖ט תִּהְיֶֽינָה׃

When you cross the Jordan [River] into the Land of Canaan, establish for yourselves cities to be cities of refuge to which a slayer who unintentionally kills another may flee. These will be for you cities of refuge from the avenger, so the manslayer will not die without standing for justice before the community. The cities you thus assign will be six cities of refuge in all – you will have three cities on the [near side] of the Jordan, and the other three will be in the land of Canaan: they will be cities of refuge for you.

Literally, this instruction is about safe zones against mob (in)justice and blood revenge. Cities of refuge were so important that Israelite society organized itself around them. Nothing could get in the way of immediate access, so there had to be direct roads leading to them, right of way to reach them, and clear signage showing the way. Cities of refuge were so important that the instruction to create them had to precede arrival.

That was then. What could this instruction mean for us now?

​R. Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev (d. 1809) taught in the name of the Ba'al Shem Tov (d. 1760) that our "cities of refuge" now lay within – and we must pave our way to them by what we think, say and do (Kedushat Levi, Num. 35:11):

שלשה ערי מקלט הוא הרמז מחשבה, דיבור, מעשה. שצריך האדם לברוח מפני גואל הדם, הוא הס"מ שרוצה לבטל אותם מעבדות הבורא וצריך להתחזק עצמו במחשבות קדושות ודיבורים קדושים ומעשים טובים, כי אף על פי שאינם כל כך ברורים וזכים, מכל מקום טוב יותר משב ואל תעשה כנ"ל, כי מכל מקום רעותא דמריה עביד:

The three cities of refuge [on the Israelite side of the Jordan] hint at thought, speech and action. Just as one must not allow blood revenge, one must [heal] from the [inner] accuser who would destroy our ability to serve [the sacred]. Therefore, one must strengthen oneself by holy thoughts, holy words and good deeds. Even if these are not entirely clear and perfect, even then the [effort] is better than passivity and inertia: the [effort itself] serves the will of [the sacred].

This allegorical approach lays the foundation for Mussar, a profound Jewish path of ethics and character development. It recognizes that even unintentionally, our thoughts, words and actions can shed spiritual blood. (Jewishly, slander and gossip, even if true, are the same as murder.) The "inner accuser" represents not only harsh self-judgment, guilt and shame, but also the unhealed parts of ourselves that impel us to act out – unresolved anger, resentment, impatience, hubris and other natural human foibles.

Thus, in addition to doing our utmost to repair harms we cause, we also must take great care to heal our own thoughts, speech and actions. In this effort, we must not judge ourselves so harshly that we become passive and inert, paralyzed by our own self-critique. But neither, however, must we let ourselves off the hook by instinctive self-defense and self-justification.

Put another way, when our travels in life arouse deeply negative thoughts about ourselves or another, they can be like a mob chasing us. Our refuge is not to ignore them or pretend them away, but to use them as impulses to purify our thoughts, speech and actions as best we can.

I couldn't imagine a more potent orientation of mind, heart and spirit as we begin the long turn toward the High Holy Days nine weeks ahead.