Pinchas: Inheritance as a Non-Intuitive Mishpat

What’s the purpose of inheritance laws? Most don't even ask. They assume the answer is obvious. But the Sefer ha’Chinuch offers a non-intuitive explanation.

Jul 18, 2025

Article voiceover

1×

0:00

-6:29

This week's Torah content is sponsored by Avital, in gratitude to Hashem for completing an intense seven-week course, and with the hope that the time spent studying will now be devoted to more Torah learning.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article. This is an updated version of an article originally published on 6/15/18.

Artwork: *Path to Exile*, by Rebecca Guay

Pinchas: Inheritance as a Non-Intuitive Mishpat

The 613 mitzvos are traditionally divided into two categories: mishpatim and chukim. Mishpatim are mitzvos whose reasons are obvious, which align with our common sense, and which we would likely keep (in some form) even if we hadn’t been commanded by the Torah. Examples include giving tzedakah, honoring one’s parents, loving one’s fellow as oneself, not stealing, not murdering, and not testifying falsely in court. Almost all societies have their own versions of these mishpatim, since the need for them is self-evident.

In contrast, chukim are mitzvos whose reasons aren’t obvious, whose logic is non-intuitive, and which we wouldn’t observe if not for the Torah. Examples include parah adumah (the red heifer), waving the four species on Sukkos, performing the sacrificial service, not wearing shaatnez (a mixture of wool and linen), not eating non-kosher species, and not cooking or deriving benefit from basar b’chalav (a mixture of milk and meat). All chukim were commanded for our benefit, and all have reasons, but those reasons are hidden and uncovering them requires study and analysis.

But just because we classify mitzvos this way doesn’t mean that mishpatim lack hidden depths or non-intuitive reasons, as we see from the laws of inheritance in this week’s parashah.

While the Torah allows a person to do more or less whatever he wants with his possessions during his lifetime, it spells out exactly what happens to those possessions if he dies without expressing his will. There is a clear hierarchy of relatives who receive priority in the inheritance, leaving no room for ambiguity.

Most people would categorize these laws of inheritance as mishpatim. Their rationale seems obvious, and all societies have some form of inheritance laws that determine what happens to the property of the deceased.

The Sefer ha’Chinuch (§400) begs to differ. He offers the following explanation for the purpose of these laws:

At the root of the mitzvah is that a person should know and understand that the world is in the hand of a Master Who oversees all His creatures, and that by His will and good desire, each individual in the world merits the portion of property that he acquires in His world. His gift (blessed is He) is a blessing, meant to endure forever for the one to whom He gives it—were it not for the fact that, due to the primordial sin, death was decreed upon the world. Yet the mere removal of a person’s body would not constitute a valid reason to terminate the blessed gift of God. Rather, it should naturally continue into the body that issues from him—namely, his son or daughter.

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the laws of inheritance serve to remind us that all our possessions come from Hashem and are distributed in accordance with His providential justice and kindness. This is true not only for human beings, but for all His creatures, as David ha’Melech wrote: “Who gives food to all flesh, for His kindness is forever” (Tehilim 136:25), and as we say after meals: “Who sustains the entire world in His goodness.”

Since His bounty is blessed and enduring, there’s no reason for it to cease upon the individual’s death. Instead, Hashem ensures that His blessing is passed on to the person’s offspring, in keeping with the tov me’od—the fundamental harmony built into creation itself. He does this through the laws of inheritance. Thus, engaging with this legal system becomes an opportunity to reflect on Hashem’s providence and to cultivate gratitude.

The Sefer ha’Chinuch continues his explanation of the rationale behind the laws of inheritance:

And if he dies in his iniquity and has no children, then it is fitting that Hashem’s blessing return to one who is close to him. For this blessing that he merited was either due to his own zechus (worthiness or merit), or the zechus of his ancestors, or through those relatives with whom he learned the aptitude for virtuous action by which he merited material possessions. Therefore, when he and his offspring are removed from them due to his sin, the relatives who helped him attain that zechus are entitled to precedence over all others.

This, too, departs from the “common sense” explanation. Most people wouldn’t even ask, “Why do other family members inherit the possessions of the deceased if he had no children?” They’d simply assume that’s what makes sense. The Sefer ha’Chinuch’s answer is a further development of his theory. When a childless man dies and his father—for example—inherits his wealth, the father shouldn’t see this as purely pragmatic (keeping the money in the family), nor should he consider it arbitrary. Rather, he should think to himself:

“Hashem granted my son this blessing of wealth. Perhaps he earned it through his zechus. Perhaps it was through my zechus, or the zechus of our ancestors who enabled him to become the type of man who deserved such wealth. In any event, Hashem has granted me custodianship over His blessing in the world.”

What a radically different way of framing inheritance than the cold mechanics of a legal apparatus blindly transferring property from the dead to the living, devoid of any philosophical or ethical vision!

And there’s another theme lurking beneath the surface of the Sefer ha’Chinuch’s explanation: mortality. Granted, it’s impossible to talk about inheritance without brushing up against mortality, but that doesn’t automatically tell us how to think about it. According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, we should recognize that lechatchilah (ideally), Hashem would have wanted to give us His everlasting blessing in a form we could enjoy forever. But because of the cheit (sin) of Adam and Chava, we are subject to death. It is an expression of Hashem’s kindness that His blessing doesn’t end with a person’s death; rather, it continues, passed to their surviving relatives, beyond the span of their lifetime.

This is a perfect example of how even the mishpatim—the “intuitive” mitzvos—contain deeper, non-intuitive dimensions. Yes, it’s true that other societies also legislate inheritance, but how many use inheritance law as a framework for contemplating metaphysical truths about the Creator’s relationship with His creations? What other nation uses the transfer of assets as a vehicle for self-improvement and meditation on one’s place in the grand scheme of creation? Even the Stoics, who regularly wrote about mortality and man’s inability to take his possessions with him after death, never tried to weave those meditations into the cultural or legal fabric surrounding inheritance.

To the contrary: in other societies, inheritance laws tend to serve purely practical, material interests, without any greater purpose. The Torah’s mishpatim, by contrast, accomplish those practical objectives and much more. They guide us toward ethical and intellectual development, offering an opportunity to transcend the mundane and connect to the Source of reality.

The methodological takeaway is this: just because a mitzvah is a mishpat doesn’t mean its reasons are obvious.

What additional insights do you derive from the Sefer ha’Chinuch’s explanation of this mitzvah? Do you have any favorite examples of non-intuitive reasons for Chukim?

The Rabbi Schneeweiss Substack

Discussion about this post