The Abarbanel offers a fascinating explanation regarding why a man who murders accidentally must wait for the Kohein Gadol to die before he can leave his Ir Miklat. The reason that the murderer hides in the city is to keep safe from the Go’el HaDam, the vengeful relative of the murderer’s victim. The death of the Kohein Gadol is such a shocking event to the nation that the Go’el would come to reconsider his emotions, calm down, and no longer seek his revenge, leaving the Rotzei’ach free to go home.
The Abarbanel’s explanation is far from convincing. Though we may never have experienced the loss of a Kohein Gadol, it seems a stretch to say that his death would have such an effect on a Go’el HaDam. It is difficult to accept that the Go’el’s impersonal emotional connection to the Kohein Gadol is even as strong as the connection to his own relative, let alone stronger.
In fact, one could even argue that the Kohein Gadol’s death should have the opposite effect on the Go’el’s emotions. Rashi says that the Kohein Gadol’s presence draws the Shchinah to the nation and promotes life, while the killer removes the Shchina and moves people closer to death. It wouldn’t be proper for the two to coexist, and therefore the killer is banished until after the Kohein Gadol’s death. Rashi seems to imply, from the fact that the killer moves the nation closer to death, that he plays a small role in the death of the Kohein Gadol. If this is so, then shouldn’t one feel more ire towards the Rotzei’ach for having caused two deaths? Should one feel sorry for this man and let him live?!
But there is a much more basic difficulty with this Abarbanel. The Abarbanel seems to root the motive of the Go’el HaDam simply in his emotions. His emotions spur him to seek revenge, and the abrupt change of emotion halts his plans. But a Go’el HaDam, contrary to popular belief, does not kill out of revenge! He kills LeSheim Shamayim. The gemara in Makos (12a) discusses whether it may be a Mitzvah for the Go’el to kill the murderer. It may even be a Reshus for everyone else to kill him (Reshus, the gemara implies, does not just mean it’s Muttar BiDiAvad.)
The strongest disproof that revenge is what motivates a Go’el comes from a gemara in Sanhedrin (45b), The gemara says that if the victim leaves behind no Go’el, Beis din will appoint a Go’el to chase the Rotzei’ach. Clearly this third party, this appointed avenger, can’t be seeking revenge like a relative would, yet the same halachos apply to him. The same rule – that he must go home when the Kohein Gadol dies – still applies. So from where does the Go’el summon his anger if not from revenge?
Let’s take a closer look at Rashi. Rashi explains that the Rotzei’ach’s banishment lasts as long as the Kohein Gadol’s life because the two cannot coexist. The Rotzei’ach stands for those things that bring people toward Gehenom, and is therefore the nemesis of the Kohein Gadol, who represents that which draws us closer to Shamayim. This explanation seems to fall short for two simple reasons. Once the Kohein Gadol dies, another Kohein Gadol assumes the position, and the killer has another nemesis. Why should it matter that the Kohein Gadol was in power at the time of the sentencing of this murderer? More to the point, the Mishna in Makos also learns that the Rotzei’ach only goes free upon the death of a properly anointed Kohein Gadol. If the Kohein Gadol had not been anointed properly, or if there there was no Kohein Gadol at all – if there was nobody who stood for the things Rashi says a Kohein Gadol represents – one would assume based on Rashi’s logic that there would be no reason for the Rotzei’ach to live in the Ir Miklat, and there would be no reason for him to wait for a proper time to leave. Yet under such circumstances, the Halacha dictates that one must live and remain in the Ir Miklat, contrary to Rashi’s logic?
It seems to me that the Abarbanel actually comes to answer these questions that Rashi’s pshat faces. Only a properly anointed Kohein Gadol can have an effect of such great magnitudes on the people, and therefore the Abarbanel decides to approach the Rotzei’ach’s freedom from the viewpoint that one’s emotions are altered. But where does emotion play a role in the role of the Go’el?
Rashi talks about how the murderer and Kohein Gadol fall on opposite sides of the spectrum. There is good reason for the entire nation to love their Kohein Gadol because of what he does for them; likewise, it would seem within reason for one to hate a Go’el because of his contribution to the masses. Whether one is the dead man’s relative or simply an appointee, one can certainly recognize the detriment the killer causes to society, and therefore has a Mitzvah to do away with him.
To a Go’el, it seems only proper that the just consequence of murder should be death. It seems only appropriate that the man who draws the nation further from Hashem and shortens their days should bear a shortening of his own days. But if such thoughts were true, then the Kohein Gadol would surely be deserving of long life. And yet even the Kohein Gadol can die, and this reality is what shocks the nation. The Go’el coes to reconsider whether the Rotzei’ach deserves a shorter life, for death does not deserve death, and bloodshed can never truly be solved with more bloodshed.
In truth what one does in one’s lifetime does not so clearly affect the death he incurs (aside from when the Torah explicitly tells us otherwise, of course). The Midrash Rabbah tells over this lesson with examples in the form of some historical examples:
Rabbi Shimon opened [his drasha with a pasuk from Koheles (9:3)]: “HaKol Ka’Asher LaKol, Mikreh Echad,” All things come alike to all [people].
“LaTzadik ViLaRasha,” to the Tzadik, Noach, who when he left his Teivah was mangled by the lion, and to the Rashah, Paroh Necho, who when he attempted to sit on Shlomo HaMelech’s throne was mangled by a lion, and both died lame.
“LaTov ViLaTahor ViLatamei,” to the Tov, Moshe (as the pasuk says, “and she saw for he was ‘Tov’), to the Tahor, Aharon, who dealt with the Tahara of Klal Yisrael, and the Tamei, the Miraglim. These [first two] spoke good of Eretz Yisrael, and these spoke bad, and yet none were permitted into the land.
“LaZovei’ach ViLaAsher Einenu Zovei’ach,” [referring to] Yoshiyahu and Achav respectively. The first brought many Korbanos, while the second cancelled the offerings; yet both were killed by a barrage of arrows.
“KaTov KaChotei,” the good and the sinner, Dovid HaMelech and Nevuchadnetzar. One “built” the Beis HaMikdash, and one destroyed it; yet both ruled a full 40 years.
“HaNishbah, Ka’Asher Shvu’a Yarei,” Tzidkiyahu and Shimshon HaNazir. (The Eitz Yoseif explains that Tzidkiyahu took oaths lightly, and therefore broke his promise to Nevuchadnetzar, whereas Shimshon was only suspicious the Bnei Yehuda would harm him until they swore (Shofetim 15:12)). This one died with his eyes gouged out, and that one died with his eyes gouged out.
VaYikra Rabbah 20:1
This Midrash, somewhat unexpectedly, is the opening remark of Parashat Acharei Mos; somehow, it must connect to the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. Rabbi Shimon proceeds to explain that both the Bnei Aharon and Korach’s assembly suffered similar fates. The first pair sought to draw the nation closer to Hashem, while the other steered them far away (although under a sneaky façade), yet both were burned alive for offering Ketores. And so we clearly see that the reward of the Kohein Gadol does not necessarily manifest itself within this world, nor does the punishment of the accidental killer. The Go’el HaDam learns this most valuable lesson and heads back home, leaving the killer free to exit his Ir Miklat
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