Parashas Chukas: No - it was NOT "Meant to Be"

Ordinarily I only write a new dvar Torah for the weekly parashah on Fridays. Today's blog post happens to be an exception to that rule. I've wanted to write about this topic for a while, and I just happened to find a Ralbag on Parashas Chukas which serves as a perfect platform for the discussion. Tomorrow's blog post will also be on Chukas.

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Artwork: Murder, by Allen Williams

Parashas Chukas: No - it was NOT "Meant to Be"

One of the greatest human tragedies is the death of one human being at the hands of another. Whether intentional (e.g. a murder, an act of terrorism, or a wartime casualty) or unintentional (e.g. vehicular manslaughter, an instance of gross negligence, or a freak accident), the sense of loss is compounded by the outrage over the involvement of human agency.

Although I haven't taken a formal survey, it seems to me that there are many Jews respond to such tragedies by saying "it was meant to be." People will say this about the full gamut of homicide, from suicide bombings, to car accidents, to complications arising from medical procedures. The "it was meant to be" sentiment will be expressed in a variety of ways. Some people exclaim "gam zu l'tovah," which they erroneously translate as "this, too, is for the best," or they invoke the even more common false notion that "everything is hashgachah pratis." Others give some variant of the allegedly more comforting explanation of "God wanted this person to be with Him" or the more neutral "it was his time to go." Others chalk it up to other common falsehoods, such as "this person must have fulfilled his tafkid (life's purpose) and that's why he died" or "her soul needed a tikkun (correction), and now it's free to move on." 

Although there is a lot that can be said here, I would like to limit the scope of our analysis from the outset. We will NOT be discussing this issue from the standpoint of God's justice or reward and punishment. We will NOT be dealing with the concept of God's Omniscience or Omnipotence. We will NOT address the question of what is or is not hashgachah pratis. We will NOT be discussing reincarnation or any of the doctrines that are based thereupon.We will certainly NOT discuss how to comfort someone who has experienced such a loss, or how to deal with such hardships in one's own life. 

The objective of this post is to make one point: just because one person dies prematurely at the hands of another doesn't mean that "it was meant to be." Or, to put it in positive terms: Judaism does hold that a person's life can be taken before his or her time. And what is true of death, which is the ultimate loss, certainly applies to other forms of harm and suffering that are brought about by human action.

My impetus for writing about this topic was the Ralbag's comparison of the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer) at the beginning of Parashas Chukas with the Eglah Arufah (Axed Calf) at the end of Parashas Shoftim. There are several structural similarities between these two mitzvah-institutions, most notably:

• Both involve cows: the Parah Adumah an adult female, and the Eglah Arufah a young calf.
• Both are associated with human death: the Parah Adumah is the means by which we purify people from tumas meis (halachic impurity brought about by a human corpse), and the Eglah Arufah is brought to atone for an unsolved murder of a human being.
• Both are associated with a prohibition of work: the Parah Adumah must not have work done with it, and the land on which the Eglah Arufah is killed may not be worked.

The Ralbag [1] explains that the difference in the age requirement of the Parah Adumah and the Eglah Arufah is intended to clarify Judaism's stance on premature death. He writes:

The [Eglah Arufah] is a young calf and the [Parah Adumah] is an adult cow in order to teach us that the killer caused this person to die prematurely - that is, the person whose corpse was found in the field, whose assailant is unknown - because many people have erred, thinking that this (i.e. premature death) is impossible. This [error] leads to great harm in the Torah's beliefs, and in philosophy, and in matters [2] of ethics and practical decision-making, and denies the reality of the possible - but this is not the place for this inquiry.

In other words, when we carry out the procedure of Eglah Arufah in response to an unsolved murder, the young calf whose life we cut short is supposed to remind us that this victim's life was cut short by the murderer. This reinforces the Torah's view that this person's death was not "meant to be," but occurred prematurely. 

According to the Ralbag, the belief that a person's death was "meant to be" leads to "great harm" in four areas. First and foremost, such a belief undermines the beliefs of Torah - specifically, the yesode (fundamental principle) of bechirah chofshis (free will), as the Ralbag specifies elsewhere. [3] Secondly, this belief is not consistent with philosophical truth (though there are philosophers that arose after the Ralbag who would disagree). Third, it causes harm in the realm of ethics and practical decision-making. Fourth, it is predicated upon a denial of the category of "the possible" (by presupposing that everything that can happen is either "necessary" or "impossible"). 

The clearest and most comprehensive treatment of Judaism's view of bechirah in Rishonic literature (that I know of) is the Rambam's presentation in the eighth chapter of the Shemoneh Perakim. As it so happens, he addresses each of the four points mentioned by the Ralbag. He even mentions our case, about murder. Instead of summarizing each of these points on my own, I'm going to let the Rambam speak for himself, with my own paragraph breaks for clarity:

It is important for you to know that our Torah is in agreement with Greek philosophy, which have been substantiated by true proofs, that man's actions are in his control; no one compels him to do anything, and nothing other than himself ever inclines him toward a character virtue or flaw - other than a predisposition, which, as we explained, would [merely] make him find it easier or harder to do a specific thing [but doesn't necessitate any action on his part].

If man were compelled in his actions, then all of the Torah's commands and prohibitions would be utterly pointless, since man would not have freedom in his actions. 

Likewise, all study, education, and craft-related training would also be in vain, since - according to this theory - man would have something external to himself compelling him to do a certain action, or to know a certain subject, or to have a certain trait.

Reward and punishment - whether society's or God's - would be absolutely unjust. For if one person ("Shimon") killed another ("Reuven") because he was forced or compelled to kill, and his victim was forced or compelled to be killed, then why should [the killer] Shimon be punished? And how could it ever be said that God, Who is just and fair, punished someone for doing something he was compelled to do and could not help but do, even if he didn't want to? 

Besides, any precautions we would take - like building houses, acquiring food, fleeing when frightened, and the like - would be pointless, since it would be "meant to be" by [Divine] decree. 

All of this is nonsense and absolutely invalid; it runs counter to rationality and common sense, tears down the wall of Torah, and deems Hashem to be unjust - God forbid! 

But the truth, beyond any doubt, is that all of man's actions are in his own hands. If he wants to do something, he can; and if he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to. There is no compulsion or force upon him. Therefore, the mitzvos are binding. 

[Hashem] said, "Behold - I have placed before you today the life and the good, and the death and the bad ... [therefore, choose life]" (Devarim 30:15-19), thus placing the choice in our hands. And there is necessarily punishment for transgression and reward for obedience, [as it is stated:] "[You will receive blessing] if you obey [the mitzvos of Hashem, your God], and [you will be cursed] if you disobey]" (ibid. 11:26-28). And there is an obligation to learn and to teach, [as it is stated:] "Teach them to your children" (ibid. 11:19), and "learn them, observe them, and do them" (ibid. 5:1). [There is an obligation] as well to do everything else that is involved in the learning and fulfillment of mitzvos.

One is also obligated to take all of the precautions [against harm or damage] enumerated in the Book of Truth, which says, "Make a maakeh (guardrail) for your roof ... lest someone fall" (Devarim 22:8); "[Let him go back to his house,] for he may die in battle" (ibid. 20:5-7); "[If you take your neighbor's garment as collateral, bring it back to him by sundown, for that is his only covering ...] What would he then sleep with?" (Shemos 22:26); "Do not take lower or upper millstones as a pledge" (Devarim 24:6). And there are many other statements in the Torah and the Books of the Prophets on this subject of taking precautions. 

As for the Sages' statement that "ha'kol bi'ydei shamayim chutz mi'yiras shamayim" - "Everything is in the hands of heaven except for fear of heaven" (Berachos 33b) - this, too, is correct, and follows what we have said.

Many people erroneously believe that a person is compelled to do certain things that are actually open to choice, for example, marrying a particular woman or acquiring a certain amount of money by stealing - but that is incorrect. For it is a mitzvah to marry a woman permissible to you by means of a kesubah (wedding contract) and kiddushin in order to have children, and God does not compel in the observance of mitzvos. In addition, if there were some wrongdoing in marrying her [i.e., if someone were to marry a woman who were prohibited to him], it would be a transgression, and God does not decree that a person transgress. The same would be true if one stole money from a person or robbed or defrauded him, then denied it and took an oath about the money [declaring it to be his own]. If one claimed that God decreed that the money be taken from the other person's hands and placed in his, it would be saying that God decreed a transgression, but that is not so. 

Rather, all of a person's actions are in his own hands, and through them obedience and disobedience will undoubtedly be demonstrated. For as we explained in the second chapter, Torah-based commands and prohibitions only apply to the deeds one is free to act upon or not. As such, the "fear of heaven" which is not in the hands of heaven, but is rather given to man, as we have explained, lies in this part of the soul.

And the statement that "everything [is in the hands of heaven]" is not intended literally; what they were referring to were natural phenomena which man has no control over, like being tall or short, whether it will rain or be dry, whether the air will be foul or pure, and everything else that occurs in the [natural] world, rather than through man's actions.

But the point the Sages made, that obedience or disobedience [i.e. the fear of heaven] are not by the decree of God or by His will, but rather by man's will, were deduced from the words of Jeremiah, who said, "Neither bad nor good comes from the mouth of the Most High" (Eichah 3:38) where "bad" refers to bad deeds and "good" refers to good deeds. That means to say that God does not decree whether a person will do bad deeds or good deeds.  

That being so, it is only right that man mourns for and regrets all his sins and transgressions, since he has done wrong of his own volition, as [Yirmiyahu] said, "What should a living man mourn for, a mortal man? For his sins" (ibid. 3:39). He then goes on to say that the cure for this illness therefore lies in our own hands. For just as we disobeyed by choice, so too, we can turn aside from our bad deeds. Hence he concluded with, "Let us search and examine our ways, and return to Hashem. Let us life up our hearts with our hands to God, in heaven" (ibid. 3:40-41).

There you have it. Let's summarize by applying the Rambam's analysis to the case of a premature death at the hands of another person. If someone was killed, whether intentionally or unintentionally, we do not say that "it was meant to be," for this would undermine the fundamental principle of free will on which the entire Torah is premised. To say that this person's death was "meant to be" would mean that the killer was somehow forced or compelled in his actions. If that were the case, how could he be held culpable by God or by human courts? Furthermore, from the standpoint of the victim, we cannot say that an untimely death was "meant to be" without reducing all of our preparatory and precautionary measures to absurdity. It would be senseless for the Torah to tell us to build a fence around our roof to prevent people from falling, or to send back the fearful person from battle, or to seek medical attention for illness and injury.

Rather, as Chazal said, "everything is in the hands of heaven except for the fear of heaven" and, as the Rambam explained, "the fear of heaven" includes any and every action that directly or indirectly involves a mitzvah or a transgression. This certainly applies to a case in which one person caused the death of another.

Some might object to all of this, saying, "What's the big fuss? Let people think that it was meant to be! After all, they don't realize the philosophical implications of what they are saying. They just want to take solace in a belief that will comfort them."

To my mind, this is what differentiates Judaism from other systems of belief. Other belief systems are the products of the human psyche, with all of its wishes, fantasies, and insecurities. Even non-religious people tend to adapt or reject beliefs on this subjective basis. Judaism is different. We strive to base our beliefs on objective knowledge, truth, and reality, to the best of our understanding. We do not accept or reject something as true based on how pleasing or displeasing it is, or how much we want it to be true. To the contrary, we aim to determine our beliefs by using our God-given intellect to understand the universe - based on our own analysis, in light of our knowledge of Torah - and to accept the truth even if it clashes with our desires and preferences.

Again, I would like to emphasize the questions that this article intentionally did not aim to answer. We haven't addressed questions of God's justice, reward and punishment, Omniscience, Omnipotence, hashgachah pratis, the fate of the soul, or how to provide comfort to the bereaved. Each of these topics is "longer than the earth and broader than the sea" (Iyov 11:9), and should be investigated with deliberation and clarity.

But certain investigations cannot begin until the mistaken assumptions which hinder them are cut down, and - like the life of the Eglah Arufah which is cut short by the free choice of the ax-wielder - so too, it is our duty as purveyors of Torah knowledge must cut down the erroneous beliefs which preclude philosophical growth and maturity. 

[1] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 19

[2] The phrase used by the Ralbag here is inyanim ha'mediniyim; since, in Gersonidean terminology, this includes interpersonal ethics and personal decision-making, I decided to translate it as "ethics and practical decision-making."

[3] see, for instance, Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Melachim I, Toeles #24