The Torah portion of Behar discusses the laws concerning sale of land in the Holy Land (Leviticus 25: 29-31).
Fields and Homes
After the Jewish people entered the land of Israel in nearly 3300 years
ago, Joshua, the Jewish leader, assigned a plot of land to every tribe and
family, as recorded in the book of Joshua. If a Jew fell upon hard times and was
compelled to sell his ancestral field, the Torah — the constitution of Judaism
— gave him the right to redeem it two years after the purchase date. The
seller would return the money to the buyer and receive his field in return. If
he did not redeem it, the field would return to him automatically with the
arrival of the Jubilee year.
What was the Jubilee year? After the Jewish people completed the settling of the
land of Israel 14 years after entering it, they began counting their years in
cycles of fifty.1 Every 50th year was observed as a Jubilee year during which
ancestral plots of land that had been sold during the previous 49 years,
reverted to their original owner. Almost no sale or gift of land in Israel was
legal for longer than 49 years.
This was the law concerning the sale of a field. What happened if a poor Jew was
forced to sell an ancestral home located within a walled city in Israel? Here
the law changed dramatically. This home, the Torah states, could be redeemed
only until the first anniversary of the sale. Thereafter, it remained the
property of the buyer in perpetuity, and did not return to the seller with the
arrival of the Jubilee year (unless the buyer chose to sell the home back to the
original seller.)
How about if a Jew sold an ancestral home located in an un-walled city? Here the
law constitutes the "best of both worlds" of the two former cases. The home
could be redeemed immediately after the sale, just like a home in a walled city.
And even if it was not redeemed during the first year of the sale, it could
still be redeemed afterwards, till the arrival of the Jubilee year when it
returned to its original owner, just like the law regarding the field.
Income vs. Dignity
What is the logic behind the three different laws
concerning the sale of 1) fields, 2) homes in walled cities, and 3) homes in
un-walled cities?
One of the great biblical commentators, the 13th century Spanish sage, Rabbi
Moses ben Nachman, known as Nachmanides2 explains the rationale in a rather
moving way.3
Selling your personal home due to impoverishment affects not your income (a home
does not produce regular profits), but your dignity. Selling your field due to
poverty, on the other hand, might affect your income (a field produces regular
profits) but not your personal honor. To preserve the dignity of an impoverished
individual who was forced to give up his home, the Torah allows him to redeem it
immediately after the sale, throughout the entire first year, as soon as he
comes up with the money. After the year is up, however, he certainly relocated
to another home; now the buyer is entitled to hold on to his purchase as long as
he wishes. It cannot be redeemed any longer.
Concerning a field however, which affects a person's income rather than his
dignity, short-term redemption was unnecessary. The Torah's only concern was
that the field be returned to its original owner upon the arrival of the Jubilee
year, in order not to deprive a person and his family of their natural source of
income.
Homes in open cities, says Nachmanides, were often used for farmers and
guardians of fields. Thus, they were treated like the fields themselves and
needed to be restored to their owner by the Jubilee year. Yet since their sale
(just as the sale of full-fledged homes in walled cities) was embarrassing for
the seller, they too could be redeemed immediately after the sale, even before
the passing of two years.4
Selling Your Career, Home and Soul
All of these laws applied
only when the entire Jewish nation was living in Israel, each tribe dwelling on
the land designated to it.5 When the first Jewish tribes were exiled from
their homeland, some 2600 years ago, the Jubilee year laws and plot-sale laws
were no longer applicable. Yet each mitzvah and law in the Torah consists of a
psychological and spiritual dimension, as well as a physical and real-life
dimension.6 It is this dimension that is still very relevant today.
What is the metaphysical meaning behind these laws?
Fields, homes located in un-walled cities, and homes
located in walled cities, symbolize three aspects of our daily lives:
Fields represent a person's career and his or her day-to-day interactions and
purchases in the outside world, in the "field."
Homes, situated in un-walled cities, represent a person's internal home and
family life, which are not exposed for all to observe.
Homes located in walled cities, surrounded by an additional wall of protection,
are symbolic of the most vulnerable and intimate space of a person's life,
usually guarded by an additional fortress of privacy. This represents a person's
inner relationship with his core-self, his soul. His G‑d, his or her moments of
prayer, meditation and transcendence.
Here, the Torah gives us a blueprint of what transpires when we "sell" and
dispose of our careers, homes, and selves.
Goodbye Integrity
When you sell your field, i.e. when you allow your career and your daily external encounters to become tarnished by dishonesty and selfishness — you can get away without noticing your moral degeneration for a full two years. Only after two years of moral and spiritual decay will you begin to sense the void in your life. The depravity caused by the "selling" of your integrity will begin to haunt you. Then, when you have become aware and frustrated, you can liberate your field and your life. Even if you don't, time and life's experiences are likely to do the job. In the 50th year, you will get back your field. But why wait so long?
Goodbye Love
Then comes the far more serious situation where you "sell" your home, i.e. you lose touch with your loved ones, your wife, your children and your closest friends. In your smugness you enter into your private bubble and you alienate the people closest to you. You give up your home.
A home is more than a roof to keep out the rain, four walls to keep out the wind, and floors to keep out the cold. It is the laugh of a baby, the song of a mother, the strength of a father. It is the warmth of living hearts, light from happy eyes, kindness, loyalty, comradeship.
Home is first school for young ones, where they learn
what is right, what is good and what is kind. Where they go for comfort when
they are hurt or sick. Where joy is shared and sorrow eased. Where fathers and
mothers are respected and loved. Where children are wanted. Where the simplest
food is good enough for kings because it is earned. Where money is not so
important as loving-kindness. Where even the teakettle sings from happiness.
That is home. G‑d bless it.
And when you dispose of your home, you will sense the emptiness immediately.
Your life will just become far more shallow and artificial. Since the pain will
be felt immediately, you are indeed capable of liberating your home right after
the "sale."
Here again, even if you don't possess the courage to change, time and life's journey usually will change you. But why wait? Who knows what can transpire till then? Will you still have the chance to repair broken relationships?
Goodbye G‑d
Then comes the third and most serious condition —
when you "sell" your most intimate space, when you become alienated from your
deepest sense of self, from your inner relationship with G‑d. In such an event,
you can sense the extraordinary void immediately and thus liberate your soul
right away. But if you wait for more than a year, you will likely lose the
chance to ever liberate your inner identity again.
When you allow the external pressures or enjoyments of life to rob you of your
core self, when you no longer dedicate twenty minutes a day to speak your heart
out to your Creator, when you have no time for the essence of it all, you will
soon lose touch with the notion that you ever had any innocence to lose. You may
no longer know that there was anything to liberate.
It is painful to lose things ("fields") in life. It is far more painful to lose
people ("homes") in life. But the worst pain of all is when we lose our
connection with the quintessence of life and reality, with G‑d. We simply
can't afford to lose our souls. None of us can afford to sacrifice our few
intimate moments of prayer and communion with G‑d because of other
responsibilities or pleasures. For without this relationship, we might one day
look in the mirror and observe a living body encasing a dead soul.
[Adapted from an emailing of //TheYeshiva.net]

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