Moving forward

This commandment of tamimus in our parashah recalls another command addressed to the father of our nation. Before the mitzvah of bris milah, Hashem appeared to Avraham Avinu and declared:

הִתְהַלֵּךְ לְפָנַי וֶהְיֵה תָמִים.

“Go before Me and be wholehearted” (Bereishis 17:1).

Throughout his life, Avraham Avinu continually moved forward without knowing where the path would ultimately lead, but with a heart filled with faith. When Hashem commanded him, לֶךְ לְךָ… אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָ , “Go forth… to the land that I will show you” (Bereishis 12:1), he left everything familiar and went forth without knowing his destination. At the Akeidah, he ascended Har HaMoriah without knowing how Hashem’s promise כִּי בְיִצְחָק יִקָּרֵא לְךָ זָרַע, “For through Yitzchak will offspring be considered yours” (Bereishis 21:12), would be fulfilled. Again and again, Avraham acted with complete trust, “walking before Hashem,” placing himself entirely in Hashem’s Hands, with temimus.

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning of temimus. It is not passive resignation. It is the courage to act and move forward with faith, even when the future and the outcome remain completely  hidden from us.

As Rebbe Nachman of Breslov famously taught:

כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְאֹד, וְהָעִקָּר לֹא לְפַחֵד כְּלָל

“The entire world is a very narrow bridge, and the essential thing is not to be afraid at all.”

To continue moving forward, always with the strength of simple faith.

Making decisions without certainty

This idea may also connect beautifully with last week’s parashah. There Moshe Rabbeinu declared:

רְאֵה אָנֹכִי נֹתֵן לִפְנֵיכֶם הַיּוֹם בְּרָכָה וּקְלָלָה.

Every day of our lives presents choices. We constantly stand at crossroads, deciding between different courses of action. We seek guidance through Torah, through the counsel of daas Torah, through prayer, and through careful judgment. Yet, unlike a navi, we are not shown the future before making our decisions.

Perhaps this is what Tamim Tihyeh teaches. The Torah does not instruct us to wait until Heaven reveals the correct answer. Rather, after sincerely seeking Hashem’s Will through Torah and wisdom, we must make the best decision we can and entrust its outcome to Him. A Jew is not expected to know the future.

He is expected to trust the One Who does. תָּמִים תִּהְיֶה עִם ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ “Go before Me and be wholehearted.”

Clarity in retrospect

In most of the events that shape our lives, we do not perceive the hand of Hashem’s providence while we are experiencing the challenges and trials themselves. Only much later, sometimes after many years, when we look back with new perspective, do we begin to appreciate the great love and profound wisdom of Hashem’s guiding Hand at every step.

I was privileged to witness this lesson in a deeply personal way.

Shortly before my mother, a”h, underwent what would prove to be the final procedure of her life, she asked her physician whether he truly recommended that she proceed. After carefully considering the medical advice, she decided to go forward. She then shared a remarkable thought with me.

“I was privileged to live a long life,” she said. “If Hashem decides that this is my time, I  accept that completely, with a whole heart. As I look back over my life, I realize how many critical decisions I had to make. During the war, many of them were literally decisions of life and death. At every point I had to choose a direction without knowing what the outcome would be. Looking back now, I see that every important decision I made was the right one. How did I know? I can only marvel at the hashgachah (providence) of Hashem that guided me throughout my life.”

Those words left a profound and indelible impression upon me. During the Shoah, for example, my mother once had an opportunity to escape from a labor camp. Before acting, she sought the counsel of the Radoshitzer Rebbe, זצ”ל הי“ד who instructed her not to trust the proposed escape plan. She accepted his ruling with faith. Looking back decades later, she recognized that this decision, like so many others throughout her life, had been guided by Hashem.

She did not know the future. She simply lived by the principle: תָּמִים תִּהְיֶה עִם ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ..

Living forward, understanding in hindsight

Perhaps this is the enduring lesson of the mitzvah, one that speaks to the heart of every Jew. Life can only be lived by moving forward. We must make decisions today without knowing what tomorrow will bring. We are not prophets but have a responsibility to seek Hashem’s Will through heartfelt tefillah and daas Torah, to act with integrity and emunah, and then to entrust the outcome, and our very selves, to Hashem.

Only later, sometimes years later, do we look back and recognize that Hashem was guiding our steps all along. This is the promise implicit in the words of Rashi: … ואז תהיה עמו ולחלקו“and then you will be with Him and His portion.” One who walks with Hashem in wholehearted faith, which is temimus, will ultimately recognize that Hashem has been walking with him every step of the journey.

Perhaps this is the deepest meaning of תָּמִים תִּהְיֶה עִם ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ. We are not asked to foresee the future. We are asked to walk faithfully with Hashem through the uncertainties of the present. When we do, we may one day look back upon our lives and, like my mother, a”h, recognize that even when we could not see Hashem’s plan, His Hand was gently leading us toward its fulfilment.

II

The Mitzvah of Eglah Arufah in light of the Midrash on Yosef’s Agalos

The concluding mitzvah of Parashas Shoftim is the unique ritual of eglah Arifah (“the Decapitated Calf”). When the body of a murder victim is found in an open field and the murderer is unknown, the Torah commands a public ceremony involving the Sanhedrin, the elders of the nearest city, the Kohanim, and a young heifer whose neck is broken in an uncultivated valley. Why does the Torah require such a procedure, and what is its underlying message?

A Midrash cited by Rashi connects this mitzvah with the reunion of Yaakov and Yosef in Sefer Bereishis. When Yosef finally revealed himself to his brothers, he sent agalos (wagons) to bring Yaakov to Mitzrayim. These agalos alluded to the laws of eglah arufah, the final Torah subject that Yaakov and Yosef had studied together before Yosef disappeared. The obvious connection is the similarity between the words agalos (עגלות) and eglah (עגלה). Yet perhaps the Midrash is hinting to something deeper. Before exploring that possibility, let us first examine the mitzvah of eglah arufah, itself.

The mitzvah of Eglah Arufah

The Torah introduces the mitzvah as follows:

כִּי יִמָּצֵא חָלָל בָּאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ לְרִשְׁתָּהּ, נֹפֵל בַּשָּׂדֶה, לֹא נוֹדַע מִי הִכָּהוּ. וְיָצְאוּ זְקֵנֶיךָ וְשֹׁפְטֶיךָ, וּמָדְדוּ אֶל הֶעָרִים אֲשֶׁר סְבִיבֹת הֶחָלָל. וְהָיָה הָעִיר הַקְּרֹבָה אֶל הֶחָלָל, וְלָקְחוּ זִקְנֵי הָעִיר הַהִוא עֶגְלַת בָּקָר אֲשֶׁר לֹא עֻבַּד בָּהּ, אֲשֶׁר לֹא מָשְׁכָה בְּעֹל.

If a slain person is found in the land that Hashem, your G-d, gives you to possess, lying in the field, and it is not known who struck him, your elders and judges shall go out and measure to the cities surrounding the slain person. The city nearest to the slain person shall take a young heifer that has never been worked and has never drawn a yoke.
)Devarim 21:1-3(

The mitzvah applies only when the victim is found lying openly in the field. The Mishnah (Sotah 9:5) derives from the words נֹפֵל בַּשָּׂדֶה (lying in the field) that the ritual is not performed if the body was concealed, for example, if it was buried beneath a heap of stones (טמון בגל).

The representatives of the Sanhedrin measure to determine the nearest city to the victim. The elders (זְקֵנֶיךָ) of that city bring a young heifer that has never been worked to a rugged valley (nachal eisan), which may never again be cultivated or sown. The elders wash their hands over the heifer and declare: יָדֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת הַדָּם הַזֶּה, וְעֵינֵינוּ לֹא רָאוּ. “Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see.”

The Torah then states: וְנִגְּשׁוּ הַכֹּהֲנִים בְּנֵי לֵוִי…  “The Kohanim, the sons of Levi, shall approach…” The Kohanim then offer a prayer on behalf of the entire nation: כַּפֵּר לְעַמְּךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל אֲשֶׁר פָּדִיתָ ה’, וְאַל תִּתֵּן דָּם נָקִי בְּקֶרֶב עַמְּךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל.  “Grant atonement to Your people, Yisrael, whom You have redeemed, Hashem, and do not place innocent blood in the midst of Your people Yisrael.”

The responsibility of the elders

The declaration of the elders: “Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see,” is remarkable. Surely no one suspected that the elders of the city had committed the murder themselves. What, then, are they proclaiming?

The Mishnah in Sotah (9:6) explain: לא בא לידינו ופטרנוהו בלא מזונות, ולא ראינוהו והנחנוהו בלא לוייה The elders are essentially declaring that they did not allow the traveler to leave their city without food and without proper escort. In other words, the Torah is teaching us that the leaders of a community bear responsibility for those who pass through their city, ensuring that they do not depart without proper care and protection. The Maharal notes that from this passage Chazal derive the great mitzvah of לויה, escorting a traveler. A person should not be sent on his way with just a farewell. Accompanying him as he leaves is itself an expression of concern for his welfare and safety.

The Rambam’s explanation

The Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim III:40) explains that the purpose of the mitzvah is to publicize the crime so that the murderer is identified. The arrival of the Sanhedrin, the elders, and the Kohanim would inevitably attract widespread attention. As news spread throughout the surrounding communities, someone who possessed information, even a woman or a maidservant, might come forward and identify the killer. The public declaration of the elders further underscored the gravity of remaining silent if one knew the truth. The Rambam adds that the prohibition against cultivating the valley creates an additional incentive for the landowner to help identify the murderer before the ceremony becomes necessary. Otherwise, his land will become permanently forbidden for cultivation, causing him substantial financial loss.

Thus, according to the Rambam, eglah arufah is not merely a ritual of kapparah. It is the Torah’s response to concealed violence, mobilizing the community to uncover the truth and bring the perpetrator to justice.

Having reviewed the principal halachos and themes of eglah arufah, we can now return to the Midrash connecting Yosef’s agalos with this mitzvah.

The Agalos of Yosef

More than twenty-two years had passed since Yaakov had last seen his beloved son. After revealing himself to his brothers in Mitzrayim, Yosef instructed them to return to Eretz Yisrael and bring their father down to Mitzrayim.

The Torah relates:

וַיְדַבְּרוּ אֵלָיו אֵת כָּל דִּבְרֵי יוֹסֵף אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר אֲלֵהֶם, וַיַּרְא אֶת הָעֲגָלוֹת אֲשֶׁר שָׁלַח יוֹסֵף לָשֵׂאת אֹתוֹ, וַתְּחִי רוּחַ יַעֲקֹב אֲבִיהֶם.

”They told him all the words that Yosef had spoken to them, and he saw the wagons that Yosef had sent to transport him, a (Bereishis 45:27)

Rashi, citing Chazal, explains: סימן מסר להם. במה היה עוסק כשפירש ממנו, בפרשת עגלה ערופה. וזהו שאמר: וירא את העגלות אשר שלח יוסף, ולא נאמר אשר שלח פרעה. 

Yosef transmitted a sign to Yaakov by recalling the last Torah subject they had studied together before they parted, the laws of eglah arufah. This explains why the Torah says, “the wagons that Yosef had sent,” and not “the wagons that Pharaoh sent.”

When Yaakov recognized the sign, his spirit was revived, and the Shechinah, which had departed from him during the years of mourning, returned.

Reflections on the Midrash

The Midrash associates Yosef’s עגלות with the mitzvah of עגלה ערופה. While this association of the words serves as the identifying sign between Yaakov and Yosef, one may assume that the Midrash intends to convey a deeper message as well. Perhaps the connection extends beyond the shared terminology to the ideas embodied in the mitzvah itself.

Although only a few of the meforshei haTorah discuss parallels between eglah arufah and the story of Mechiras Yosef, the connection established by Chazal invites further reflection.

The comparisons that follow are offered by way of derash, not intended as the primary understanding of the Midrash, but as a means of reviewing and appreciating the halachos and underlying themes of eglah arufah through the familiar narrative of Yosef.