Parshas Tazria- Metzorah – What is the Contagion?

When most people write about or discuss this week’s parsha, Tazriah/Metzorah, they immediately make it clear that the affliction most-often translated as leprosy is a spiritual affliction and not the unfortunate disease carried by the Mycobacterium leprae bacteria. Because of its sever physical manifestation, leprosy was, for most of history, a disease for which people were shunned – which makes it understandable why the disease symptoms described in parsha for which people were sent out the camp was so named. But everything in our mesorah makes it clear that the various types of tzaraas have nothing to do with bacteria or viruses.

 

One might, however, stop and wonder about Vayikra 13:45: ‘“As for the person with an affliction: their clothes shall be rent, their head shall be left bare, and their upper lip shall be covered over; and they shall call out, ‘Impure! Impure!’” Why is the matzroa covering his upper lip? Many answers are given, but the Ibn Ezra notes “He shall cover his upper lip so that he does not harm anyone with the breath of his mouth.”  Was there some sort of contagion to Tzaraas if it was a spiritual affliction?

 

Furthermore, it is most puzzling that the one who is suffering for having spread loshen hara is now meant to walk about shouting “Impure.” We know that lashon hara, gossip and rumors, are toxic particularly because they end up embarrassing someone and thus, from a theological construct, murdering them. So why does Hashem put the matzora in a position to embarrass himself unless he truly is a danger to someone else?

 

Let us take a step back and contemplate what brings a person to a state of a tzaraas affliction. Lashon hara – and lashon hara is generally the result of jealousy. To get to the point of a matzora, not just one with a suspicion of tzaraas, but truly stricken, one must have had a rather decent amount of ill-will.

 

The discussion of the matzora easily makes it seem that one who discovered themselves in this situation went out from the camp, did teshuva, and returned home. But sometimes it took longer than the set amount of days. Sometimes the Kohain declared that the matzora was not yet cured… It was not just that his physical affliction still remained. It was that the negative energy was still eating away at his soul. He was still jealous.

 

Perhaps when this matzora calls out that he is unclean, he is alerting anyone who nears him that he still has an urge to speak lashon hara. The dangerous element that the Ibn Ezra refers to is not germs as we think of them today, but the miasma of negativity, the inclination to feel that this situation in which he or she finds themselves is, perhaps, not really their fault or their responsibility.

 

Until the matzora does true teshuva, the matzora cannot be healed. True teshuva is not only repenting from the lashon hara and fortifying oneself not to do so again, but really, in one’s heart of heart, recognizing why it was done and letting go of what ever pain led the person down that road in the first place.

 

There is a pithy statement that acknowledging a problem is half the battle. Perhaps in the commandment that the matzora call out that he is unclean is the cure to that fact itself. Hashem understands human nature – obviously – and this is the manner is which a person can learn to face the truth of his/her own doing.

 

We don’t have tzaraas today, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have to work to take responsibility for our thoughts and feelings. In truth, however, it just means that it is a lot harder to do so.

 

Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas and hatzlacha on the journey of self-improvement that is living Torah.

Parshas Tazria/Metzorah: Not a Random Interruption

Parshas Tazria/Metzorah: Not a Random Interruption

Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta and Sharon bas Shoshana

 

Last week’s parsha, Parshas Shemini, is weighed down by the distressing details of the death of Aaron’s two sons. While these deaths are dealt with completely in that parsha, it is interesting to note that the parsha we read next week is “Acharei Mot, After the Deaths.” It is not the fact that Nadav and Avihu’s deaths were significant enough to mark a time connection that is particularly interesting, but rather it is the fact that Shemini and Acharei Mot are separated by two parshios (that are generally read as one). Perhaps, there is something to be learned from these two parshios breaking the narrative of the deaths and the divine instruction that follows thereafter.

 

The first of these parshios is Tazria, and the primary subject matter of Tazria is the diagnosis and “treatment” of tzaraas. In reading the biblical description of the disease, it seems almost strange that this was consistently translated simply as leprosy since there are so many permutations of the ailment. More importantly, tzaraas is not a medical condition; it is a unique spiritual malady with an underlying pathogen that is actually a disease of the tongue - lashon harah (Though, to be fair and honest, there are other aveiros that are connected to tzaraas as well). The treatment for tzaraas is isolation and repentance, because this is how one begins to repair - to whatever extent it is repairable - the discord sown by lashon harah.

 

Parshas Metzora, the second parsha, continues the topic of the resolution of tzaaras and also discusses the transference of the marks of tzaraas from a person to an inanimate object and how to deal with it.  One of the correlations of tzaraas and lashon hara is the factor of pride, of ego. Lashon Harah most often stems from our need to feel more significant than someone else, or, said more succinctly, to put others down. 

 

So now back to the original question. Why does the narrative of the inauguration of the Mishkan, the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, and the aftermath commandments of Hashem have tzaraas interrupting it? Perhaps it has to do with Hashem knowing how humanity works. Here in the Torah is a story that is ripe for the picking for lashon harah. These men were struck down in front of the entire congregation. Everyone witnessed their ‘sinning.’ Everyone witnessed their consequence. Public information, right?

 

Wrong. Discussing what happened to Nadav and Avihu is important because we are meant to use every part of Torah to grow, spiritually. Speculating on salacious details because they are interesting or they are relatable, however, is no longer l’toeles. Let’s be honest with ourselves, there are a wide range of Torah based suggestion to what Nadav and Avihu did that day… and there is a reason that the most widely remembered is that they were drunk.

 

Tazria-Metzora is followed by Parshas Acharei Mot, which begins: “Gd spoke to Moshe after the death of Aaron’s two sons, when, having drawn near to Gd, they died. Gd said to Moshe: ‘Speak to your brother Aaron, and tell him that he must not come whenever he wishes into the Sanctuary beyond the partition Curtain…’”

 

After the completion of the inauguration, Hashem provides Aaron with instructions on proper etiquette in the Mishkan. The Torah demonstrates learning from what happened without hashing it out to pieces.

 

If you think about it, the placement of Tazria-Metzora – parshios in which the dangers of lashon hara is a constant theme - in the middle of the story of Nadav and Avihu is brilliant. There are few other such places in the Torah where there is wrong-doing and consequence, and yet, respect for the righteousness of those who received the consequence all at once. The sages have made many postulations as to what Aaron’s sons were punished for, and those discussions were l’toeles, to provide guidance for Bnei Yisrael. But how easy is it to descend into that which is not l’toeles when speaking about them possibly being drunk, or etc? But how easy is it to descend into that which is not l’toeles when speaking about anyone?

 

This sequence of parshios certainly reminds us of the complexities of life. What one sees on the outside is not necessarily what is truly involved. A person covered 100% from head to toe with a skin affliction, who would appear to be the loudest billboard for his own guilt of something, is not a metzorah. Life is not always how it looks, so don’t speculate on the lives of others.

 

Life is a constant path through other people’s actions. We can choose to watch them and judged them and make assumptions about them, or we can choose to accept that Hashem is the king and the ultimate judge. 

Parsha Tazria - So Many Ways

There are many parshiot in Sefer Vayikra that are difficult for us to truly understand. While Vayikra most often deals with sacrifices and the actions of the kohanim, in parsha Tazria the subject turns to a seemingly mysterious skin ailment for which a person must be isolated outside of the encampment of Bnei Yisrael. This ailment is quite often mistranslated as leprosy, which we now know is a contagious bacterial infection. The actual affliction, tzaraas, has no real English translation.

 

From reading the parsha and the multitude ways in which tzaraas can appear, one might wonder at the frequency of diagnosis. While diagnosis is a medical term, and there are many dermatological medical conditions, tzaraas could only be determined by a kohain. This is important because the source of tzaraas is not viral, bacterial, or auto immune; it is spiritual. Tzaraas is caused by the inimical yet pervasive behavior of lashon harah, speaking badly of others.

 

Lashon Harah is one of the most impactful transgressions of Jewish law. It is famously stated by Hillel that the essence of Torah is “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor: that is the whole Torah while the rest is commentary; go and learn it.” Loshon Harah, or, better, refraining from lashon harah, is critical to this essential dynamic of bein adam l’chavero (interpersonal relationships).

 

The laws of guarding one’s speech are complex and rather extensive. Lashon Harah can be the obvious gossip or verbal denigration of a person, but praising a person publicly can also fall into categories of speech to be cautious of. And this, the complexity of the laws of Lashon Harah, is a fascinating fact when reviewing parshas Tazria.

 

One might expect that a spiritual affliction such as tzaraas to have very clear and obvious symptoms. One might expect one or two fairly consistent descriptions of how the skin blemish would look. And yet, while there is only one perek dedicated to the subject, that perek is 59 pasukim long. The parsha goes on and on… if it looks like this and if it looks like that, if it is on a bald spot and if it is on hair, if it goes away and if it comes back, and etc. For the description of an affliction that must be diagnosed by a priest, that’s an awful lot of detail and variation.

 

When we remember that tzaraas is an affliction that is caused by a spiritual malignancy, by an act that undermines the fabric of interpersonal relationships, perhaps we can better understand why tzaraas is not described in a straight-forward way. Lashon Harah is certainly not straight-forward. If one were simply told not to speak ill of another, one might refrain only from outright statements such as “Jack is a liar.” But Lashon Harah, like tzaraas, is not simple.

 

The Torah does not specify the laws of Lashon Harah, but the lengthy discussion of tzaraas as expressed in the parsha is an excellent indicator of just how varied and complex the source of the disease can be.

 

We today can only imagine what it would be like to live in a world where our physical selves manifest deficiencies in our spiritual selves. Instead, we must put in great effort to guard our tongues and monitor our actions knowing that this is how we not only keep our own neshamos healthy, but how we strengthen klal Yisrael and the whole world.

 

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to continued besoros tovos/refua shelaima for Rivka Bas Golda.

Parshas Tazria/Metzora – The Challenge of Identity

 Society has always, in one way or another, acknowledged the connection between one’s emotional well being and one’s physical well being. In Medieval Times (and, alas, far after the so-called Dark Ages), doctors treated people’s psychological unwellness by treating their “Humors” (bodily fluids). In more recent times, we know that stress causes ulcers, thyroid can cause depression, and etc. It is clear that our bodies and our minds are deeply entangled. And yet it is still incredibly difficult, at least for me, to understand the parshiot of Tazria-Metzora, of an “illness” of the soul being reflected by a physical ailment. (And I will certainly note that I think a big part of my challenge is having grown up with the English translation of it being leprosy and then discovering that leprosy was caused by a bacterial infection and learning that leprosy is really just a very bad translation.)

As one reads the parsha one learns about the physical appearance of the blemish, and, in truth, the idea of strange discoloration is something that most people can envision and understand. But what about the very strange situation described in Vayikra 13:12-17:

If the eruption spreads out over the skin so that it covers all the skin of the affected person from head to foot, wherever the priest can see—if the priest sees that the eruption has covered the whole body—he shall pronounce the affected person clean; he is clean, for he has turned all white. But as soon as undiscolored flesh appears in it, he shall be unclean; when the priest sees the undiscolored flesh, he shall pronounce him unclean. The undiscolored flesh is unclean; it is leprosy. But if the undiscolored flesh again turns white, he shall come to the priest, and the priest shall examine him: if the affection has turned white, the priest shall pronounce the affected person clean; he is clean.

“If a person’s entire physical being becomes covered in a blemish” - this isn’t Vitiligo, the slow process of pigmentation loss. It is, as the pasuk notes, an eruption of blemish. Having just been taught that this very type of blemish indicates a spiritual impurity, the Torah is now teaching us that an entire body covered in this very blemish is to be declared pure, and if a patch of regular skin appears, then he is impure. It is, one could say, a rather shocking and confusing passage. Shocking because it is hard to imagine one erupting in a blemish that could cover the entire body, and confusing because said person goes in and out of the state of pure and impure.

The process, as I understand it, is that it starts as an initial impurity that, after having been declared impure, quickly spreads over the entire body. Now that it is over the entire body, the kohain looks at it and declares that it is not an impurity, it is a skin issue. If it is everywhere, it is clean and the person is pure. However, once it has been declared pure, or shortly thereafter, it shifts again and retreats creating a patch of the person’s original skin. Now the kohain says “Wait a minute, it is not a skin issue, it is an impurity.” This can go back-and-forth multiple times. As long as it is completely one way or the other, the person is pure, but the patches shift the person back to impurity.

In a way, this speaks greatly to the question of identity, a topic that appears to be a hot button issue today but, in reality, has always been an important part of human nature. Think about the stories of kids in high schools (public) who went “Goth,” declaring that they were asserting their independence, but it was clear that what they were asserting was their group identity.

We all, as human beings, struggle with identity. When we figure out how to be completely our true selves, we are pure. However, when we let that niggling self doubt of our path enter our minds, we are no longer are pure selves. This does not mean we should not question ourselves, that we should not follow correction of a halachic or hashkafic path of Torah, that we should not be involved in constant growth and readjustment.

One could give an extreme example, such as allowing comments made during a religious debate to cause one to question Torah, chas v’shalom. Without proper care, that small impurity can worm its way into one’s sense of self, can make one doubt things that are known to be truths.

One could also think of the silly, more mundane moments when who we are and what we like is challenged by other people. For instance, a person like sardines and enjoy having them for lunch, but the guy at the next seat tells him that eating sardines is weird. One could respond, “Well, , that’s your opinion” and continue eating sardines. But, quite often one might, instead, begin to worry that he is doing something unacceptable.

This is very normal for human beings to do. Our goal, and one of the biggest challenges of being people of faith in an unfaithful world (to sound like a charming book cover) is that we need to have tenacity to hold on to our point of view, to our inherent identity. If we let a random, outside thought create a blemish, then we must stop and recalibrate ourselves all over again, to get to the point where we can once again know for certain who we are and what our purpose is. Is this a natural process - yes! Is it a challenging process - yes! Is there something we can do about it - yes! It is what our people have always done. We study, we learn, and when we worry about the first signs of a patch of impurity, we take it to our spiritual experts, and we ask them for guidance.

*What I write here now are purely my thoughts, with no commentaries or midrashim having been researched, although someone may find something similar somewhere I want it to be stated because it is just my unbacked up ideas.

Not Just a Burn (Tazria-Metzora)

 This week’s double parsha of Tazria-Mezora is, for most of us in the 21st century, rather hard to understand. Can our spiritual actions really cause us to become ill? We were all raised in the era of modern medicine – and while we know that stress and emotional strain can contribute to illness, most of us are comfortable with believing that the majority of illnesses are the result of a virus or a bacteria. In other words, we pretty much have all been raised on scientific medicine, which does not affect a person because of bad middos.

Vayikra 13, the second chapter contained in parshas Tazria, is a lengthy discourse of how to recognize a negah and how each type of case should be handled. On a general read, it can seem both detailed and repetitious. However, the variations, when looked at carefully, are both subtle and fascinating.

There is one particularly interesting verse, the start of a sub-chapter within the perek, that says: “When the skin of one’s body sustains a burn by fire, and the patch from the burn is a discoloration, either white streaked with red or white” (13:24). Up until now, the perek described strange marks upon the skin that, from a modern perspective, sound like dermatological ailments. The subgroup mentioned before the burn is a mark that remains after a boil, but even a boil could be thought of as a dermatological infection. A mark that remains after an area of the skin gets burned by fire, however, seems an odd contrast to naturally occurring ailments.

Perhaps the question one should ask is how the flesh was burned in the first place. One thought might be that this is a non-accusatory warning against a person trying to hide a negah. It is highly feasible to imagine that a person would not wish to go through the complicated process of checking a negah, which would be disruptive to life and perhaps to one’s reputation. In such a case, one might try to treat the blemish as we today treat a wart – by trying to burn it away. But the negah will remain because the spiritual healing has yet to be done.

The phrasing of Verse 13:24 might hold another subtle lesson for us. “When the skin of one’s body sustains a burn by fire…” Burns happen easily, and we assume that it is simply the result of carelessness. But in the world of Jewish thought, everything happens for a reason…hashgacha is an always active factor in our lives. Perhaps from the seemingly casual turn of phrase (“When the skin of one’s body sustains a burn”), there is a lesson that this incident may not be so casual. It is a reminder that nothing happens without a purpose and if one gets injured one should, perhaps, stop and assess one's spiritual actions as well as one's physical actions.

For the New Mom (Tazria)

Have you ever thought, lahavdeel, that, in some ways, Sefer Vayikra is like Moby Dick. There’s a narrative that connects it all, but there are also large chunks of descriptive information. In Melville’s case, every detail about a whale you probably never really wanted to know, and in Sefer Vayikra, the extremely specific laws of the Mishkan, the service, and the laws of tumeh and tahara (impure and pure, although that translation creates drastic misinterpretations). So much of Torah is left to be fleshed out in the Oral law that one is almost forced to wonder why these detailed descriptions are included in the Written Law.

The vast majority of this week’s parsha concerns the spiritually wrought skin afflictions, tzaraas that is often translated as leprosy. However the first chapter has nothing to do with tzaraas, but rather with childbirth. (Side note: If anyone knows the connection between zayin-reish-ayin and  tzadi-reish-ayin, I would be fascinated to hear it. Zera - as in tazria, the name of the parsha, which means to conceive from the root for seed and Tzara – as in tzaraas, the name of the skin affliction).

Perek 12, which is only 8 verses long, is actually a particular favorite of those who like to wonder about gender roles in the Torah. In summary, when a woman conceives and brings forth a male child, she must stay separate from her husband for 7 days and then remains in a state by which she may not enter the sanctuary or touch any holy items for 33 more days. With a girl, the days of separation are 14, and she remains in a distinct state for 66 days. After these days, she brings certain offerings and life returns to normal.

There is a concept that it is a longer time because it is the separation of the double potential for creation. Also, with a boy, the mother is finished her separation in time for the bris on the eighth day. Oh, and rather interesting, the length of days was the fact that 7 + 33 = 40, is just about 6 weeks and, as all moms know, that’s just about when the doctor wants to see you again after delivery.

But let us look at the wording  of 12:4 and 5, that after the days of separation, the new mother shall “dwell in the blood of purification,” which, it is agreed by all, is a statement that she herself has no ritual impurity to her, but is actually in a unique state of being. Rashi describes the period of 33/66 days as being one long day, as if the day on which she was purified is not fully completed until the end of the time.

What an interesting term damei tahara is. If there is one constant in Torah life it is the Divine service, but post birth this is an activity that the new mother is not allowed to engage in. We can’t really relate because we don’t have the Temple or the Mishkan today; we don’t participate in the Divine Service. But, we do have our own version of the avodah, which is tefilla. In some ways, perhaps right here Hashem is instructing the women of Bnei Yisrael that it is OK to take it easy after childbirth, not to push one’s self and jump straight back into all of the rigorous demands of living according to a schedule. It is a subtle message that is overlooked by many, and really it is nearly impossible to fulfill in the modern era when we don’t live in large extended families or communities where everyone acts like one family. This is a beautiful message that I wish far more people would see when they read Vayikra 12 then that the Torah renders a different status for the birth of a male than for the birth of a female.