We Dare Not Close Our Eyes |
In Parashat Korach, the Torah tells of a plague that broke out among Bnei Yisrael, claiming the lives of 14,700 human beings. A number like that is hard for the human mind to grasp. When a tragedy reaches such proportions, the heart tends to protect itself by turning the pain into a statistic: names blur, faces disappear, and what ought to shock us to our core can slowly become just another report, another headline, another number.
We are living through this very struggle right now. As the war drags on and the news brings one painful update after another, we face a grave danger: the longer a crisis lasts, the easier it is to get used to it. The Kedoshim can become a statistic. The wounded, just numbers. The pain remains real, but our sensitivity to it can begin to dull.
The Torah understands this flaw in human nature all too well and teaches us how to fight it. One of the clearest examples appears in Sefer Devarim. The Torah dedicates an entire section to the laws of warfare: how the army prepares for battle, who is exempt from military service, and how to conduct a siege. Yet immediately following these national laws, the Torah suddenly turns to a completely different matter: Egla Arufa.
A Jewish casualty is found in an open field, between two cities. The zekenim of the nearest city must leave their usual places, measure the distances, and hold a public ceremony. They declare: “Our hands did not spill this blood, and our eyes did not see it.” Chazal ask: Did it ever cross our minds that the zekenim of the Beit Din were murderers? The answer is that the Torah is teaching something much deeper here. The zekenim are not just testifying that........