May 20th: Behar
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Our weekly Torah portion describes the Jubilee Year, a most curious institution. Every-fiftieth year, each Israelite was to return to his ancestral homestead—the one assigned to the family by Moses. As the Torah explains, at the end of forty-nine years (“seven weeks of years—seven times seven years”), “You shall have the shofar sounded loud throughout the land—you shall proclaim release/liberty throughout the land, unto all the inhabitants thereof!” (Leviticus 25.10) At this time, “each of you shall return to his holding.”
This was not to be a family-reunion weekend; this was a move-back-home and reclaim the property situation. All real-estate transactions were nullified, and the land was to return to the original owners. In other words, property sales/purchases were conditional and temporary—valid only until the next Jubilee Year! “When you sell property to your neighbor, or buy any from your neighbor…you shall charge only for the years remaining before the next Jubilee.” (Leviticus 25.15) The purchasers were tenants or leaseholders, not property owners.
To those of us who think in terms of land ownership, this seems a strange concept. As usual, however, the Bible is thinking on a very different level. “The land is Mine,” saith the Lord. “You are but sojourners resident with Me.” (Leviticus 25.23) This still may seem strange—given the reality of the earthly context, but the fact is that there are quite a few modern situations where “ownership” is both conditional and temporary.
When we lived in Florida, we were surprised to find out that the residents and businesses on Pensacola Beach did not own their land. The part of the barrier island open to development is owned by the county and made available for development (beach houses, condominiums, restaurants, and hotels) via long-term (ninety-nine year) leases. People act as though they are property owners, but technically, they are temporary sojourners.
It is similar out West where ranchers graze their herds on land leased from the Federal Government. The ranchers may feel like “the land is theirs,” but it is a temporary and conditional tenancy. Other examples are the large tracts of land leased to oil and mineral extraction companies—and the curious distinction between ownership of surface property and “mineral rights.” Farmers often find themselves in precarious situations when the owners of subterranean oil, gas, or coal want to disrupt cropland and pastures to remove it.
There is also the curious and controversial concept of Eminent Domain in which land owned by a private citizen can be deemed necessary for public purposes and then seized by the State. Theoretically, the seized land is purchased at a fair market value, but the “landowner” has little recourse. When private land is repurposed for “rights of way” or roadbuilding/widening, it becomes very clear that our ownership is conditional.
In Israel, a good part of the land is owed by the State or major agencies (like the Jewish National Fund) and then leased for homes, businesses, and kibbutzim or moshavim via long-term (ninety-nine year) arrangements. I always wonder what will happen when the ninety-nine years are up.
Speaking of Israeli real estate, landowners and purchasers there often encounter a maze of competing claims of ownership through different legal systems. Property may be “owned” according to Ottoman Law (1517-1917) or British Mandatory Laws (1917-1948) or Jordanian Law (for the West Bank, 1948-1967), or Bedouin tradition or Arab Tribal sensibilities or modern Israeli law. Couple this complexity with “squatters’ rights” and Eminent Domain, and you have lots of challenges for Israeli jurists. How does one claim ownership? How does ownership in one historical system impact ownership in another? By the way, these kinds of ownership disputes are frequently in the background of stories reported as “political.”
The question can also be asked in a larger context. What is national sovereignty other than a question of ownership? If the Russian Empire or the Soviet Union “owned” Ukraine, then what does that say about modern Russia’s claims of ownership? Of course, theirs is not the only contested region. Should places like Catalonia or the Basque country be part of Spain or independent from it? Should Ireland or Scotland be part of Great Britain? Indeed, did Great Britain’s membership in the European Union mean that they did not “own” their own kingdom?
A quick look at historical maps of the world shows that boundaries can change significantly over time. The currently tiny Baltic state, Lithuania, occupied most of Eastern Europe some 700 years ago, stretching from the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea! India once included Pakistan and Bangladesh. Panama was once part of Colombia, Texas was once part of Mexico, and Florida once stretched all the way to the Mississippi River (hence the “Florida Parishes” of Louisiana).
And, let us not forget the Native Americans who used to own “our” land. Who knows which tribes owned the land around State College—and which tribes owned the land before them? Some social activists like to note the tribal nations who used to own their land. An example is a friend in Madison, Wisconsin, Rabbi Jonathan Biatch, who includes the following as a signature/tagline on his e-mails: “Temple Beth El sits on land in the traditional territory of the Ho-Chunk Nation, and I strive to respect and honor this heritage.” When I read his e-mails, I am reminded of the ephemeral nature of time and ownership.
Given the flow of time and human geography, the very notion of anyone owning land is a curious, temporary sensibility. Yes, we have deeds and records stored at the courthouse, but the spiritual lesson of the Torah should be kept in mind. God owns all the land—and we are temporary sojourners. Indeed, we are temporary inhabitants of Life—an enterprise owned and operated by God. We are here at God’s behest and for God’s purposes. Earthly possessions and pursuits are part of the human experience, but they are only one of our realms—and not the most important. Consider the words of the modern Catholic thinker, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin: “We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a physical experience.” The ancient Biblical Jubilee Year is a reminder of this quintessential and existential truth.