4 Iyyar 5781 l April 16, 2021
Parshat Tazria-Metzora
Rabbanit Tanya Farber
Class of 2021
לעילוי נשמת אבי מורי בערל בן בנימין יחיאל ואסתר חיה ז"ל, יארצייט ר"ח אייר
This Dvar Torah is in honor of my beloved father, Dr. Bernard Farber z”l, whose yahrzeit is Rosh Chodesh Iyyar
A metzora (one afflicted with tzaaras skin leprosy) and a kohen are polar opposites on the spiritual compass of existence. The metzora represents death and decay, whereas the kohen, barred from contact with death, is charged with the life-giving rites of atonement, spiritual rectification and revival. Unlike polar forces that repel one another, the Torah brings them together, despite the extreme degradation of the metzora on one hand, and the elevation of the kohen on the other. Whether initiated by the kohen or the repentant metzora--as we shall see two contrasting reads of one verse--through the nexus of their encounter, the metzora can transform so completely to symbolically become a kohen, even, an embodied mizbaech, altar.
Let us begin by defining tzaaras, and how the metzora embodies death. The life-generative role of the kohen is explicit throughout Sefer Vayikra.
Over the course of this long pandemic year, we have become familiar with quarantine and isolation, and may find relevance in the metzora’s experience. Tzaaras is understood by the Rabbis, though, as an affliction attributed to inner moral decay and social sins, not an indiscriminate virus infecting righteous and not-yet righteous alike. According to tradition, the tzaraas malady is most associated with slander, lashon hara, as both Moshe (Shemot 4:6) and Miriam (Bamidbar 12:9) are stricken with tzaraas after their negative speech. The full banishment of the metzora from communal life, reflecting the social damage caused by speech that denigrates, mocks and turns fellow against one another, unraveling the fabric of society. The metzora resides outside the settlement, with torn clothes, overgrown hair, covered lip, calling out to all who encounter him “טמא, טמא/ defiled, defiled!” The metzora, whose hair and dress resemble a mourner, is compared to one who is dead. As Aaron said to Moshe regarding Miriam stricken with tzaraas: “אל נא תהי כמת, Do not let her be like a corpse…”(Bamidbar 12:12) Not only is the נגע צרעת, the skin blotch, white, the pallor of death, but also the metzora transmits her ritual tumah, defilement, like a corpse, to all contents of a roofed tent, according to the ancient Torah laws of impurity. The metzora’s sick soul extinguished her potential and her body is now scarred by her inner shame.
Unlike other ritually impure people, only the metzorais expelled חוץ לשלש מחנות, outside all three machenot, camps of the Israelite encampment. Alone and shunned, the metzora can contemplate his moral failings which alienate him from the holy community, structured around the sacred center: the camp of the Shechina, Divine Presence, surrounded by the machaneh of the Levites and which was encircled by the Israelites. The confirmed metzora--who may have already endured a seven day pre-diagnostic quarantine as well--remains outside of society for a seven day period or as long as his malady persists.
And then at the end of his period of isolation and banishment, the Torah tells us that the metzora is brought to the kohen, which is both a technical and existential impossibility
The metzora can not be brought into any of the concentric encampments, but is confined to the outskirts of community. The kohen is at the epi-center of society. How could the metzora come to the kohen? As we said, the metzora and kohen are not only opposites in their station within and without the encampment, but represent opposing forces of death and life, respectively. The next verse seems to ignore the implication of the preceding one, and tells us that the kohen did in fact come out to the metzora!
The Ibn Ezra, the 12th century Spanish Biblical commentator, claims that the metzora is even dragged to meet the kohen against his will, thus explaining what is meant by הכהן אל והובא and he is brought to the kohen . Wouldn’t the banished metzora be eager to begin the purification process? Tersely, the Ibn Ezra merely claims that לא ירצה להביא מה שמחויב, that “he does not want to bring the [ritual birds/animal sacrifices,etc] that he is obligated [to bring].” There must be more to the Ibn Ezra words than what his brief commentary conveys, depicting the metzora as a cheapskate avoiding the expense of purification.
The Ibn Ezra notes that the locution, והובא אל הכהן, and he is brought to the kohen, appears twice in the prior Leviticus chapter in regards to the as-of-yet-undiagnosed, but suspected metzora who apparently resists the kohen’s initial examination and diagnosis in the first place, presumably to avoid quarantine. And yet, the metzora after serving his sentence in protracted isolation, at the end of it, perhaps fears rehabilitation and reentry into society. In our own context of pandemic lockdowns, we might relate to both the dread of quarantining in our homes and at the same time, after this long year of tragedy and loss, a deep anxiety and reticence to return to our former lives even as we are hopeful about the efficacy of the vaccines.
The metzora, once afflicted with spiritual defilement, even after her skin lesions heal, might have given up hope and no longer sees herself as redeemable and capable of rehabilitation. So often, we offer excuses of expense, logistics and inconvenience--as Ibn Ezra hints regarding the metzora’s reluctance for purification --to explain away why we are not pursuing our dreams and highest calling. Not only for our own transformation, but we give up on others and on the world, hiding behind practical reasons. The metzora might despair, but according to the Ibn Ezra, she is forced to begin the process even against her will. Thus, the metzora discovers redemption beyond what she might have believed possible. Even if the Torah standardizes the rituals and protocols for purification, one can still deny her own potential for transformation and kedusha, sanctity.
Whereas the Ibn Ezra, reads the words והובא אל הכהן and he is brought to the kohen as an external push, a chasidic interpretation locates that initial step towards purification within the human heart and imagination. The Shem Mishmuel, by the second Sochatchover Rebbe, in the early 20th century, describes the spiritual awakening of the metzora awaiting purification, as one who initiates his own recovery and directs his heart toward tahara, purity. Even as an outcast, he imagines himself integrated within the מחנה, camp, as if he is already there.
For the Shem Mishmuel, the metzora initiates the encounter; not only by coming out of his tent; for the kohen does not enter the dwelling of the metzora, but more significantly, when the metzora imagines himself restored, socially and spiritually rehabilitated, only then, can the kohen come out to meet him for the metzora has already returned in mind and spirit.
The three-stage purification process that follows is quite involved and intricate, in which slowly the metzora is reintegrated, granted gradual access to the camps, through rituals, body-shaving, immersions, an additional seven day waiting period, and elaborate sacrifices. It begins with a ritual involving two birds, one slaughtered, one sent off, reminiscent of part of the Yom Kippur service and concludes in the final stage of his purification with animal offerings. For the Ibn Ezra, the rituals transform him regardless of his inner state; for the Shem Mishmuel it was that initial human yearning at the inception that awakens the possibility for heavenly purification.
This heavenly purification orchestrated by the kohen involves a familiar and unusual ritual, familiar and unique to the consecration of the kohanim. In parshat Tezave and parshat Tzav, the Torah describes the inauguration of the kohanim into their priestly service. As part of their ordination, blood from the inaugural ram, איל המלואים was placed on the right ridge of the ear, right-hand thumb, right big toe of Aharon and his sons. Similarly, in the last stage of the metzora’s purification, blood from the asham guilt-offering, and a measure of oil are placed on the right ridge of the ear, right-hand thumb and right big toe of the mitaher, the one being purified, as the Torah now refers to the former metzora. The remaining oil is placed on the mitaher’s head. Blood and oil are usually placed on the altar, and here, they are being placed on the mitaher, himself.
The Sforno, 16th century Italian Torah commentator, identifies that the asham guilt-offering in general, atones for when one is בקדוש מעל ,that is, desecrates the sacred for a profane use. For the Sforno, the former metzora now anointed with blood from this asham offering, had been מעל בקודש, profaned the sacred; misused his Divine capacities for desecration through לשון הרע, slander and גסות רוח, haughtiness. And now, like a kohen who is dedicated to holy service, these capacities are consecrated toward Godliness.
The ear ridge, big toe and thumb are our outermost extremities. These anointed points define our personal space and contact with the world. It is the metzora’s skin that becomes afflicted; skin,exposed to everyone. Whether he has done the inner work to arrive at this point, or not (Ibn Ezra versus Shem Mishmuel), the recovering metzora recovers her identity in relationship to others and marking those boundaries becomes her consecration. The metzora, once ejected from the entire community is now anchored at the centermost orb, becoming like a kohen or even a mizbeach/altar, anointed to become a vehicle for holiness that will radiate outward into all his human interactions.
At times we may need to be dragged towards healing, like the kohen forcing the reluctant metzora. At times we can aspire and envision beyond our current reality, אתערותא דלתתא ,and even drag others toward that initial encounter with transformational possibility. Even when our world seems sick and unredeemable and our own souls so lost, we can allow our ears, our hands and feet to be anointed to serve for greater good.
