רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah
Healing from the Torah
Parashat Tazria-Metzora
Leviticus 12:1-15:33
By Adam Ruditsky
Accessing the Habitual
The Chofetz Chaim tells the story of a man
who owned a perfume factory and ventured into a factory that produced leather
goods. Once inside the odor was so
strong that the perfume merchant was affected by terrible headaches. He left the leather factory swearing that he
would never again step foot into such a place, but that would change. Upon
liquidating his perfume factory the only business for this merchant to acquire
was the leather factory, so he purchased it.
The early days were a challenge for him, needing to learn how to
painfully tolerate the smell of the leather hides. Finally as time passed the merchant grew
accustomed to the odors until one day it was as if he had been born to be a
leather manufacturer. The Chofetz Chaim teaches
us through this story that we can become immune to what is not good for us. Parashat Tazria-Metzora teaches us that becoming immune to what
is impure is also not good.
Tazria-Metzora is the most mysterious part of Torah because of its “Sitz im leben,” a German word that means "setting in life." I am not sure I fully grasp the setting of their world, but that problem began a long time ago. So when addressing the nature of the Metzora (the one who has a Tazria, infection), Rashi says that “impurity” is the same as לשון הרע (L’shon hara), or malicious speech (cf. Lev. 14:4), based on the teachings of Talmud from Arachin 15b that says malicious speech denies a fundamental part of what it means to have faith in God. Likewise with the offering of “cedarwood” required by the unclean person, the Mishnah Tanchuma teaches that the cedar tree that is tall and beautiful serves as a reminder that a person should not consider themselves to be “high” and “glorious,” Rashi therefore writes that “cedarwood” is about “haughtiness.” When we read daily, אלהי נשמה שנתת בי טהור היא, “My God, the soul You have given me is pure,” we remember that is why Torah asks us to maintain a level of holiness. Holiness is not haughtiness, but away to avoid it.
The soul that is pure within us can then be polluted if not maintained, or worse it can create negative habitual behavior that we grow immune to. When looking at the idea of לנגע צרעת (l’negah tzara’at), the affliction of Tazria that is usually translated as leprosy, we also read that נגע צרעת affects garments of wool, linen and leather, everyday utensils (cf. Lev. 13:47-49) and even inside the walls of a house (cf. Lev. 14:33ff); all are victims of this affliction. What does human skin, garments, utensils and a house have in common? Aside from the fact that there is a lot written on this, I’d say that this has to do with life; we are aware of our bodies, the cloths we wear, the tools of living that we use to eat and work as well as our dwelling places. So when Maimonides teaches that this malady of נגע צרעת is slander, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks reacting to those words would say that the impact on a person’s skin, cloths, utensils or homes in effect is as if God is saying that a person cannot hide impurity, both inside and out, or “if you sin in private I will advertise your guilt in public.” The sin here is the impurity of malicious speech or haughtiness, and even if done in what we might think is in private, it finds a way to get out and hurt both others and ourselves (BT Shabbat 56b). In fact, Maimonides in Mishnah Torah teaches that the actions of malicious speech share the same category as murder (MT Hilchot De’ot 7:3, laws of personal development).
In the book, Orchot Tzaddikim, The Ways of the Righteous, we learn that one of the internal attributes that we have to recognize the negativity of malicious speech or haughtiness is bushah (בושה), or shame. In Perkei Avot it teaches that we must build a fence around Torah in order to protect the integrity of its ways, and in Orchot Tzaddikim we read that bushah is not just a fence, but an “iron barrier” to protect us from transgression. In Talmud from Berachot 28b when it came to transgression Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai taught, “May it be God's will that the fear of heaven be upon you as the fear of flesh and blood,” perhaps better understood to mean that as people we need a sense of awe for the sacred that we allow to guide us. In the end Orchot Tzaddikim ties the idea of bushah with anavah, or humility. Rabbi Samuel J. Rose of the Mussar Torah Commentary says that bushah is the end result of malicious speech or haughtiness, since gentile speech or the restraint from revenge are the byproducts of humility. The Metzora (again, the one who is has a Tazria) by having a נגע צרעת (negah tzara’at) can be viewed as God asking Adam in the Garden of Eden “Ayekah,” where are you, not about location but about a spiritual state of being. When the Metzora recognizes that the צרעתhas affected him/her, and are placed outside the community, a healthy sense of inward shame (bushah) will lead to personal t’shuvah to keep them from the impure. Toward the end of Tazria-Metzora in Leviticus 15:31 it says, “you shall separate the people of Israel from their impurity,” Rashi calling that “their Sanctuary,” which we can think of as the personal and public sacred space embraced as our own. We all feel shame, but this type of shame our tradition has redeemed for the better.
Again, I am not sure about the true setting or the social/religious myths that sit behind the words of Tazria-Metzora, but how it has been viewed for centuries speaks to our day without a doubt. Our country has been rocked by division and dispute and now a pandemic has changed our world as we seek answers. I know this to be so; I cannot control this season of uncertainly but I can control how I chose to act. Likewise, I can control how I relate to faith related matters and how that impacts how I chose to conduct myself in an ever changing world. Tazria-Metzora is asking us to consider the personal malady’s that have gotten in the way, malady’s that we must stop from becoming habitual.
Shabbat Shalom!
Tazria-Metzora is the most mysterious part of Torah because of its “Sitz im leben,” a German word that means "setting in life." I am not sure I fully grasp the setting of their world, but that problem began a long time ago. So when addressing the nature of the Metzora (the one who has a Tazria, infection), Rashi says that “impurity” is the same as לשון הרע (L’shon hara), or malicious speech (cf. Lev. 14:4), based on the teachings of Talmud from Arachin 15b that says malicious speech denies a fundamental part of what it means to have faith in God. Likewise with the offering of “cedarwood” required by the unclean person, the Mishnah Tanchuma teaches that the cedar tree that is tall and beautiful serves as a reminder that a person should not consider themselves to be “high” and “glorious,” Rashi therefore writes that “cedarwood” is about “haughtiness.” When we read daily, אלהי נשמה שנתת בי טהור היא, “My God, the soul You have given me is pure,” we remember that is why Torah asks us to maintain a level of holiness. Holiness is not haughtiness, but away to avoid it.
The soul that is pure within us can then be polluted if not maintained, or worse it can create negative habitual behavior that we grow immune to. When looking at the idea of לנגע צרעת (l’negah tzara’at), the affliction of Tazria that is usually translated as leprosy, we also read that נגע צרעת affects garments of wool, linen and leather, everyday utensils (cf. Lev. 13:47-49) and even inside the walls of a house (cf. Lev. 14:33ff); all are victims of this affliction. What does human skin, garments, utensils and a house have in common? Aside from the fact that there is a lot written on this, I’d say that this has to do with life; we are aware of our bodies, the cloths we wear, the tools of living that we use to eat and work as well as our dwelling places. So when Maimonides teaches that this malady of נגע צרעת is slander, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks reacting to those words would say that the impact on a person’s skin, cloths, utensils or homes in effect is as if God is saying that a person cannot hide impurity, both inside and out, or “if you sin in private I will advertise your guilt in public.” The sin here is the impurity of malicious speech or haughtiness, and even if done in what we might think is in private, it finds a way to get out and hurt both others and ourselves (BT Shabbat 56b). In fact, Maimonides in Mishnah Torah teaches that the actions of malicious speech share the same category as murder (MT Hilchot De’ot 7:3, laws of personal development).
In the book, Orchot Tzaddikim, The Ways of the Righteous, we learn that one of the internal attributes that we have to recognize the negativity of malicious speech or haughtiness is bushah (בושה), or shame. In Perkei Avot it teaches that we must build a fence around Torah in order to protect the integrity of its ways, and in Orchot Tzaddikim we read that bushah is not just a fence, but an “iron barrier” to protect us from transgression. In Talmud from Berachot 28b when it came to transgression Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai taught, “May it be God's will that the fear of heaven be upon you as the fear of flesh and blood,” perhaps better understood to mean that as people we need a sense of awe for the sacred that we allow to guide us. In the end Orchot Tzaddikim ties the idea of bushah with anavah, or humility. Rabbi Samuel J. Rose of the Mussar Torah Commentary says that bushah is the end result of malicious speech or haughtiness, since gentile speech or the restraint from revenge are the byproducts of humility. The Metzora (again, the one who is has a Tazria) by having a נגע צרעת (negah tzara’at) can be viewed as God asking Adam in the Garden of Eden “Ayekah,” where are you, not about location but about a spiritual state of being. When the Metzora recognizes that the צרעתhas affected him/her, and are placed outside the community, a healthy sense of inward shame (bushah) will lead to personal t’shuvah to keep them from the impure. Toward the end of Tazria-Metzora in Leviticus 15:31 it says, “you shall separate the people of Israel from their impurity,” Rashi calling that “their Sanctuary,” which we can think of as the personal and public sacred space embraced as our own. We all feel shame, but this type of shame our tradition has redeemed for the better.
Again, I am not sure about the true setting or the social/religious myths that sit behind the words of Tazria-Metzora, but how it has been viewed for centuries speaks to our day without a doubt. Our country has been rocked by division and dispute and now a pandemic has changed our world as we seek answers. I know this to be so; I cannot control this season of uncertainly but I can control how I chose to act. Likewise, I can control how I relate to faith related matters and how that impacts how I chose to conduct myself in an ever changing world. Tazria-Metzora is asking us to consider the personal malady’s that have gotten in the way, malady’s that we must stop from becoming habitual.
Shabbat Shalom!
No comments:
Post a Comment