Parashat Tazria Metzora, 5772, Katya Gerwein
Parashat Tazria-Metzora
April 28, 2012 / 6 Iyar 5772
Katya Gerwein
This double Torah portion, Tazria Metzora, begins with powerful life altering events: Birth, death, circumcision, some bodily fluids that affect life cycles--menstruation, nocturnal emissions. There are carefully elaborated rituals for each; these seem a little strange to our modern sensibilities although other peoples from that time had similar rituals for similar events. Yet, we understand those events, even if we do not react to them in the same way people did thousands of years ago. Reading about the sacrifices and purification rituals after contact with the forces of life and death can feel like reading about the strange rituals and taboos of a foreign tribe I would have studied in my college social anthropology classes rather than our ancestors of the same religion. Nonetheless, at least we understand the powerful events that stir intense feelings that might create intense rituals. But then, we move on to the mysterious and strange: tzaraat.
Tzaraat is truly mystifying. Despite many commentators over thousands of years (some of whom were physicians) trying to relate tzaraat to a physical disease, no one has fully succeeded. Some commentators like Abravanel and Ralbag believe that it was a disease that is unknown now and the description of stains on the clothing or houses were caused by heat of the body, sweat or decay and the protective measures were to prevent relapse of the patient or spread of the disease.
However, the Torah does not treat it as a physical disease in the same way that we would. As Rabbi Hoffman notes, if it was truly a contagious disease by touch, then it would not make sense to take the furniture out of the house before the priest pronounced it unclean—wouldn’t the furniture be just as contagious regardless of the priest’s decision? Also, diagnoses of tzaraat were not allowed during Festival gatherings so as not to diminish the joy of the festival—but if it were a contagious disease, you would want to isolate the patient from large communal gatherings. Nor does the Torah give other guidelines for public health around other contagious diseases.
Many of the Sages believed that Tzaraat was an indication of divine displeasure for human behavior, a warning to straighten up and behave, with increasing levels of chastisement, beginning with the house as a warning, moving in severity next to the clothing and finally to the person’s skin, indicating increasing levels as Buber states a “marring of the relationship between God and man.” Maimonides says, “Our Sages have said that tzara’at comes as punishment for the evil tongue, for its owner is isolated and can no longer harm people with his loose talk. This will begin in his house. If he does not repent, the tzara’at will affect his bed and couches, as stated in the Torah, “or in anything made of skin.” If he does not mend his ways, his garments will suffer, and if this has not brought about his penitence, it will come on his body, and the skin of his flesh. Tzaraat was meant as a warning and chastisement, for we are obviously not dealing here with natural illnesses, since garments and houses are inanimate. This is rather a wondrous supernatural phenomenon…”
In the Talmud, there are many sins that thought to cause tzaraat. Rabbi Yonatan names slander, bloodshed, vain oaths, incest, adultery, arrogance, robbery and greed. Rabbi Yohanan names several including a proud look, a lying tongue, and sowing discord among brethren. But most of the sages focus their attention on lashon hara, or evil language, speaking negativity, as the main sin that causes tzaraat. In part it is a play on words: motzi’ra, (bringing out bad) and metzora, one who has tzaraat.
- Rabbi Hiyya said: If someone spreads an evil name, all his limbs become defiled and he should be shut out, for his evil speech rises aloft and calls down an unclean spirit on him, and he is defiled.
Tzaraat causes a person to be literally cut off from his or her community temporarily. The seven days of isolation from the community remind us of quarantining a dread disease. Many liken it to quarantine in noting that it is to prevent the spread of lashon hara. However, after Miriam is stricken by God with tzaraat and Moshe begs God to please heal her now, God says, “if her father spit in her face, wouldn’t she have to hide herself in shame for 7 days?”
The seven days before rejoining the community seem to be a divine “time-out”, as parents use for children--both as a time to realize one’s bad behavior and experience shame as well as a chance to calm down and re-collect oneself and resolve to do better before reunion. By being outside the community, one might grow to appreciate it more. One might rise above the gossipy little tidbits of life and regain a bigger picture of what community really means by being outside the day to day annoyances and details of life. Many saw tzaarat as a divine gift to allow people to see lashon hara for what it really did to their relationships.
Lashon hara seems initially like it strengthens connections by bringing people together to share stories. I know I love hearing people’s stories and I love sharing my stories with others. Hearing, “can I just tell you how this person bothers me….” Or “You won’t believe what happened to so-and-so,” makes my ears prick up and I feel special to hear about what is going on. And yet often, gossip, especially negative gossip, really weakens connections because it damages trust and undermines relationships. Tzaraat was a divine gift to see the more damaging aspects of lashon hara, just like parents use discipline to teach their children healthier ways to relate to other human beings.
In the Torah there are two examples of tzaraat: in shmot 4:1, Moshe answers God’s call by saying, “But behold, they will not believe me, nor hearken to my voice, for they will say, the Lord has not appeared to you.” Soon thereafter, God shows God’s omnipotence by striking Moshe with tzaraat and then immediately healing him. The sages think Moshe was then punished by tzaraat for speaking lashon hara about bnei Israel, slandering Israel by not being able to dan l’chaf zchut, by not giving them the benefit of the doubt that they would behave well. One could also say that Moshe had spoken lashon hara about himself, by saying that he wasn’t up for the job.
Miriam is the second instance of tzaraat, when she got tzaraat after talking about Moshe’s taking a Cushite wife. Numbers Chapter 12, verse 1, “And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married; for he had married a Cushite woman. And they said: ‘Hath the Lord indeed spoken only with Moses? Hath he not spoken also with us?’
then Hashem calls out Miriam and Aaron, chastises them and strikes Miriam with tzaraat.
The obvious question that arises for everyone is why is Miriam punished? Both Miriam and Aaron were talking about Moshe and his Cushite wife—why does Miriam get tzaraat and Aaron gets off completely without punishment? The classic commentator’s answer is that Miriam must have been the one doing the speaking. However, in the Talmud it says that actually it is a worse sin to listen to lashon hara than to speak it—if no one listened then it could not exist—and I would add that listening adds a tacit approval to speech that the speaker may be dubious about and in having a listener may strengthen his or her negative thoughts/speech in future. So perhaps Miriam was listening and Aaron was speaking? But still it doesn’t seem fair that he is not punished.
Let’s think about Aaron for a bit: in classic midrash, Aaron is the peacemaker, always willing to go the extra mile to make peace between people. He even was the one willing to make the golden calf for the unhappy angry bnei yisrael—hmm, he is not punished for that either! I would speculate that Aaron was so empathetic, so wanting to please everyone and make everyone happy, that truly the worst punishment for him was to watch someone else be punished—whether that was Miriam with tzaraat after speaking lashon hara or the children of Israel punished by slaughter and plague for the golden calf. Maybe that truly tortured him more than being punished himself.
As Sarah Chana Radcliffe points out, “Interestingly, the Torah calls "evil language" anything negative, even if it's true…Our tradition teaches that lashon hara can destroy many lives, even unintentionally, in one fell swoop: the person speaking, the person spoken about, for obvious reasons, and the person spoken to.” The first, the person speaking the lashon hara, is because people are less likely to trust someone who gossips. The second, the person about whom the lashon hara is spoken, for destroying their reputation. The last, the person who is the audience, is the hardest to understand. This is less obvious, but if you listen to lashon hara, it means that you have encouraged lashon hara to be spoken, thus damaging your own soul and reputation. I think this is the toughest one to figure out how to politely duck out of without totally alienating and embarrassing the person speaking the lashon hara.
The Sages say the harm done by speech is even worse than the harm done by stealing or by cheating someone financially: money lost can be repaid, but the harm done by speech can never be repaired. Furthermore, you cannot apologize or ask forgiveness for lashon hara without further hurting the person’s feelings.
The Talmud tells that the tongue is an instrument so dangerous that it must be kept hidden from view, behind two protective walls (the mouth and teeth) to prevent its misuse. Although an interesting side note is that Lashon hara does not only refer to speech but also to gestures such as rolling your eyes or winking to make fun of someone, or even showing someone written work in order to ridicule the writer.
When I study the laws of lashon hara, it is mind-boggling how complex and how strict they are. Of course there are exceptions for saving a life, for giving testimony in court, for warning someone about potentially entering into a relationship with a dangerous person. And yet, on the whole, there is an overwhelming concern to avoid hurtful speech—you cannot call anyone by a derogatory nickname, even if they are used to it, you cannot even praise someone if you know someone doesn’t like them and it will provoke them to think or say bad things about them. It is forbidden to even imply or suggest negative things about a person, even in jest, even if you're disparaging yourself alongside the subject. It is also forbidden to speak Lashon Hara about yourself.
Commentators elaborate that it is a violation of this mitzvah to say anything about another person, even it is true, even if it is not negative, even if it is not secret, even if it hurts no one, even if the person himself would tell the same thing if asked! It is said that the telling of gossip leads to bloodshed, which is why the next words in the Torah are "you shall not stand aside while your fellow's blood is shed."
The story of Do'eig the Edomite (I Samuel Chs. 21-22) is often used to illustrate the harm that can be done by tale-bearing. Do'eig saw Achimelekh the Kohein give David bread and a sword, a completely innocent act intended to aid a leading member of Saul's court. Do'eig reported this to Saul. Do'eig's story was completely true, not negative, not secret, and Achimelekh would have told Saul exactly the same thing if asked (in fact, he did so later). Yet Saul misinterpreted this tale as proof that Achimelekh was supporting David in a rebellion, and proceeded to slaughter all but one of the kohanim at Nob.
Many Jewish commentators say, all things are considered to be secret unless a person specifically says otherwise. In the Torah, over and over again, God instructs Moshe, beginning “Speak to the Children of Israel and tell them:" Some Sages say that if God did not specifically say this to Moshe, Moshe shouldn’t repeat what God said!
I love drashes that have personal stories in them but as I thought about the personal stories that I could tell, I was worried that if I told them I might inadvertently speak lashon hara in my drash about lashon hara!
Right after Pesach, we have two parshiot: Shmini, which elaborates the laws of kashrut, and Tazria-Metzora, which deals with the complicated rituals around Tzaraat. As more than one commentator has noted, there are only two places in the torah that tell us not to eat pork—yet most jews know this as an essential part of Judaism—and yet there are so many places in the Torah that elaborate how careful we should be about our speech.
On Pesach, we are commanded to get rid of all chametz—all leavened or fermented or soured products—some say that this is also a signal to us to search for all puffed up parts of ourselves and all soured parts of our souls—these are precisely the parts of us that could lead us into speaking lashon hara. Rabbi Shalom Bochner pointed out that some people read the word “peh-sach” as “the mouth tells” and noticed that we can see one parshah as explaining what is important to put (or not to put) into our mouths and another parsha as warning us against Lashon hara and watching so very carefully what comes out of our mouths. As we continue in the Omer, counting and watching the days pass by, may we equally watch our speech that we may continue to build positive energy in our community and strengthen our connections with each other.