Life, Death, Transition and Hope: Tazria-M’tzorah (Leviticus 12:1-15:33)

Life, Death, Transition and Hope
D’var Torah for Tazria-M’tzorah (Leviticus 12:1-15:33)
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
April 16, 2010, 2 Iyar 5770

The Hebrew calendar is an amalgamation of ancient systems, combining the lunar as well as solar schemes of charting time. One result of this is the difference in the length of the year according to the Hebrew calendar as opposed to the general calendar that most of the world uses. Because of this difference, every two or three years an adjustment has to be made in the Hebrew calendar where an additional month is added to the twelve already there. What this means for the cycle of weekly Torah readings is that there have to be enough portions in the Torah to accommodate the extra weeks. In years when the extra month is not there, the “extra” portions are joined one to its neighbor, and we study a “double” portion instead of the usual weekly one portion. This week is one of these occasions.

The two parshiyot that make up this week’s reading, Tazria and M'tzora, are unified by length and theme: Together they make up only four chapters; their common theme is health.

These two portions contain detailed descriptions, rules and regulations relating to natural bodily functions (and dysfunctions). The center points are conception, child birth and the feared contagious disease of leprosy. Though at first these may seem incongruous, they are all points of transition and change. Fraught with dangers and misconceptions, they were—and for many people actually still are—misunderstood, bogged in ignorance and superstition.

Tazria-M’tzora highlight Judaism’s perspective on the human body. Shaped by God and therefore sacred, the body is seen as a miracle that is simultaneously strong and frail. It is self- contained, capable of existing by itself, yet for survival it is also dependant on a larger group. The human body is capable of imagination and fulfillment, yearnings and accomplishments. At the same time, however, it also requires constant attention and care. In ancient Israel as in other cultures, this task was given to the priest. It was he who was entrusted with observing, diagnosing, and dispensing treatment and care. It was a huge and vitally important task, and the Torah portions emphasize time and again the need for repeated observation, careful diagnosis, and compassionate caretaking.

Tazria and M’tzorah may be short portions; to our “refined” taste, they may also seem somewhat unpleasant. They are definitely lacking by today’s medical standards. Nevertheless they are fundamental to our perception of the body as the temple that contains the sacred image of God and is therefore deserving of the utmost care and concern.

What emerges from the study of these portions is that, as important as was the actual medical diagnosis, so were the steps that led up to it and the steps that followed. Contagious diseases were justly feared, as they often took a terrible toll on the general population. The priest’s responsibilities included calming the fear of the individual and his or her family. Shame and embarrassment often accompanied the priest’s visit; easing their effect was a critical component of the priest’s job. A person who was declared contagious was often ostracized and excluded from the community. Feeling useless, he or she would be filled with a sense of worthlessness that could lead to depression and further deterioration. For the priest, healing the sick was important, but so was empowering them to maintain their humanity. A visit from the priest could make all the difference in their disposition. Keeping the image of God alive in a broken body was one of the most challenging tasks that the priest was entrusted with. More often than not, he put his own health and the health of his family at risk by going outside the camp to visit the sick and provide for their physical and spiritual needs. It was a dangerous but essential part of his many responsibilities.

Once an individual was declared healed, integrating him back into society was just as important. Once again, fears had to be allayed, suspicions set aside. On reentry the individual who was pronounced cured needed a public welcome and a boost in morale. A ritual was thus performed at which sacrifices of gratitude and well-being were offered. A bird was set free, symbolizing the new beginning, the new leaf that was being turned in the life of this person and the community. Immersion in the purifying waters of a mikveh (ritual bath) was required. At the conclusion of this ceremony, a drop of blood was dabbed on the healed person’s right earlobe, right thumb and right big toe. Reminiscent of the ritual of a priest’s ordination, this indicated that the individual could now resume the social responsibilities that had to be set aside for the duration of the illness. The effect of the ceremony was that the light of the divine image was rekindled within the person, filling him or her with a renewed sense of inclusion and purpose.

In time, the responsibility of healing (though not the mitzvah of visiting the sick) was taken from the priest and handed to more specialized and knowledgeable professionals. Still, health care remains to this day an important part of Jewish life, law and custom. Small wonder that still today, so many Jews turn to the field of medicine. It’s not only because the field may bring its practitioner respect, stability and a measure of financial independence, but also because from the earliest times we have seen medicine and healing as a sacred mission, a role dictated by our partnership with God, a role spelled out in no uncertain terms in two of the Torah’s least liked but most important parshiyot.

Shabbat shalom.

© Boaz D. Heilman, 2010