Run to the City: The Road, the Gate, & the High Priest (Part I)
An Important Note: This blog post may touch on themes of grief and trauma, including the loss of a child, accidental death or injury, or moral injury. It is written from a peer's perspective, not a professional counselor.If you think this content could be difficult for you to read, we recommend having a trusted counselor review it first.
The roads, gates, and living waters of Israel’s Cities of Refuge, and the Person they were always pointing toward.
Picture a man working in the hills of ancient Israel. As he swings his axe, the head slips from the handle, and his neighbor is fatally hurt. It is a tragic accident. But under the customs of that time, the grieving family had the right to answer for their loss.
So the man leaves everything behind and runs for safety.
This scene comes from Deuteronomy 19:5, and God’s answer to it is one of the most beautiful and overlooked pictures in all of Scripture: the Cities of Refuge (Arei Miklat).
Every piece of that system, from the road the man traveled to the gate he reached, the city that sheltered him, the kinsman who pursued him, and the high priest whose death finally set him free, points forward to Jesus. And the story it tells is not only about one man long ago.
It is about every one of us.
What Were the Cities of Refuge?
God commanded Israel to set apart six cities where anyone who had become an unwilling agent in an accidental death could flee and be safe until their case was heard (Numbers 35; Deuteronomy 19; Joshua 20).
Three stood west of the Jordan River and three stood east of it, spread out so that no one in the land was ever too far from safety. They were Kedesh, Shechem, Hebron, Bezer, Ramoth-Gilead, and Golan.
Think about that for a moment. God wove mercy right into the map of the land.
Refuge Is a Person
Long before Israel built a single wall, God told His people where real safety was found. Not in a place, but in Him.
“I will say to the LORD, ‘My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’” (Psalm 91:2)
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)
“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe.” (Proverbs 18:10)
The Cities of Refuge were real places with real stones, but they were always a picture of something greater. The writer of Hebrews makes the connection directly, describing believers as those “who have fled for refuge” to “hold fast to the hope set before us” (Hebrews 6:18).
He chose the language of the refugee on purpose.
In the New Testament, the shelter has a name. Paul says our life “is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3) and longs to “be found in Him” (Philippians 3:9). We are not safe because we stand in the right town. We are safe because we abide in the right Person.
If you have ever lost a home, this is especially wonderful news. Cities can fall, borders can close, and places we trusted can be taken from us. Yet a Person can go with us.
“I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).
Refuge is not a location you reach.
Refuge is Someone you come to.
Five Pictures of Christ
In the Gospel of John, Jesus describes Himself with seven “I AM” statements, each echoing the name God revealed to Moses at the burning bush (Exodus 3:14). Set side by side with the Cities of Refuge, they fit together like pieces of one beautiful design:
The road to refuge: “I am the way” (John 14:6). The path to safety is open, clear, and leads to Him.
The gate of the city: “I am the door” (John 10:9). He is the one entrance, and He decides who comes in.
The protector inside: “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11) and “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35). He guards and feeds those who shelter with Him.
The avenger, a kinsman-redeemer: “I am the true vine” (John 15:1, 5). He is our blood relative, both our defender and avenger in one. We are safe as we abide in Him.
The high priest: “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). His death sets every captive free, and His life keeps them free.
The Road: “I Am the Way”
God did not just name the cities. He commanded Israel to prepare the way to them and divide the land into three regions, so a city would always be within reach (Deuteronomy 19:3).
Jewish tradition recorded in the Mishnah and Talmud (Tractate Makkot) says these roads were kept wide and in good repair, with bridges over streams and obstacles cleared away.
At every crossroads stood a sign marked miklat, “refuge,” pointing the way. Interestingly, even today there are signs everywhere in Israel reading “miklat.” Today, they signify bomb shelters, and are a poignant reminder that when refuge is needed, it is needed fast.
No one running for their life should have to guess which way to turn. God made sure they never had to.
In the same way, Jesus did not leave us to find our own road. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).
The road is not a set of rules we must navigate, but rather it is a person to emulate. The road is Him, and He is “not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:27).
The Gate: “I Am the Door”
When the refugee arrived, he stood “at the entrance of the gate of the city” and told his story to the elders, who then took him in and gave him a place to live (Joshua 20:4).
The gate was where a frightened outsider became a protected resident.
Jesus said, “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture” (John 10:9).
The refugee did not have to climb the wall or slip in unnoticed. He came to the gate and told what had happened.
We come to Christ the same way, honestly and openly, and He opens the door.
Many people who have sought physical asylum know how hard it is to tell their story to officials and wait to learn whether they will be believed.
At this gate, the One who listens already knows the whole story, including the parts that are hard to put into words.
And He has promised, “whoever comes to me I will never cast out” (John 6:37).
The Protector: “I Am the Good Shepherd”
Inside the walls, the refugee was protected by the city itself and by the Levites who lived there, since all six refuge cities were Levitical cities (Numbers 35:6).
The Talmud adds that refuge cities had to be placed where there was water and a marketplace, so the refugee would have what he needed to truly live, not merely survive.
Jesus is both our guard and our provision.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11).
“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger” (John 6:35).
“My sheep hear my voice… and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:27–28).
The Avenger: A Type of Kinsman-Redeemer
This next piece may surprise you.
The pursuer in the story is called the go’el haddam in Hebrew, “the redeemer of blood.” The word go’el is the same one used for Boaz, the kinsman-redeemer who rescued Ruth and restored her family’s inheritance.
The go’el was always the nearest relative, the one responsible for setting things right when a family suffered loss, whether by buying back land, freeing a relative from slavery, or answering for a life that was lost.
Scripture gives this very title to God Himself.
Job cried, “I know that my Redeemer [go’el] lives” (Job 19:25).
Isaiah calls the Lord “your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel” again and again.
Jesus fulfills the role of go’el completely.
To be our kinsman, He became our flesh and blood: “he himself likewise partook of the same things… Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect” (Hebrews 2:14, 17).
He is “not ashamed to call them brothers” (Hebrews 2:11).
The vine-and-branches image He gave us is a picture of shared life, the closest kinship there is.
He is also the One who will one day set every wrong right.
“The Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son” (John 5:22).
For anyone who has lost a loved one, even to an accident, this matters deeply.
No life is forgotten by Him. “He who avenges blood is mindful of them; he does not forget the cry of the afflicted” (Psalm 9:12).
And the One who will answer for every innocent life is the same One who welcomes those who have made mistakes or wrongs and yet come to Him.
That is the miracle of the gospel.
We come to God’s justice and find it held together with God’s mercy, in the same Person.
The Redeemer who has every right to call us to account is the Redeemer who has made Himself our family.
And just as the refugee’s safety was found by remaining in the city, Jesus gently invites us,
“Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4).
The High Priest: “I Am the Resurrection and the Life”
The refugee went home only when the high priest died. The death of one man released him from the threat of death and restored him to his inheritance.
Hebrews tells us that Jesus is our great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14), who “entered once for all into the holy places… by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption” (Hebrews 9:12).
His death is the death that sets us free.
Unlike every high priest before Him, He did not stay dead.
He serves “by the power of an indestructible life” (Hebrews 7:16), and “he always lives to make intercession” for us (Hebrews 7:25). That is why He could say, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25).
His death releases the refugee once and for all, and His life means that release can never be undone.
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