Between Life and
Death—Matters of Health
D’var Torah for
Parashat Tazria/Metzora
By Rabbi Boaz D.
Heilman
As a teaching, the Torah almost at once begins with failures. Adam and Eve fail to teach their children
morals; Cain fails to control his anger and frustration; Noah fails to advocate
for the world around him and for the fellow created-beings that he is one of.
How else could the Torah also teach about the proper and
right choices that humans can make?
It’s all about error and correction.
Even 3000 years ago, when stories of the Torah began to be told
and retold, human beings were aware of their frailties, both spiritual and
physical. How to overcome these innate frailties
became the chief concern of the Torah.
Moral choices are tough enough. What this week’s double portion, Tazria/Metzora (Leviticus 12:1—15:33), deals
with is the ones you can’t do much about to begin with: the physical failures of the body, the
moments in one’s existence when life hangs on the balance.
Nature is only orderly when it works. When it doesn’t, it’s a mess.
Triumphing over disorder is Godly, the Torah teaches. And it is also what makes the human being so
heroic. In attempting to be Godlike,
humans learn to overcome weakness and illness. It is not only important, it’s a
holy thing to try to regain one’s
strength.
Because of the frank way in which the Torah speaks of the
human body, along with all its possible functions and malfunctions, nobody
wants this double portion as his or her bar/bat mitzvah portion. And yet its impact on Judaism and
civilization as a whole has been—and continues to be—enormous.
The diagnostics described in the Torah may be primitive, but
the process of isolation, observation and examination that the priest has to follow
has become the foundation of modern science itself. It’s no wonder that medicine and Judaism have
been so closely intertwined through the centuries. Healing and caretaking, the Torah teaches, are
Divine.
Overcoming the illness begins with diagnosis. It’s a process that may take weeks, and
sometimes also involve radical treatment.
A person may be excluded from the community—though never abandoned! A garment (yes, clothing can become
infected!) sometimes must be burned. And
a house—think mold—has to be fixed; sometimes as little as taking out and
replacing stone or two and re-plastering is enough. Other times, the whole house must be
demolished; even its dust must be taken to a place where it can’t infect other
people’s homes.
Caretaking and nurturing doesn’t stop with the physical. The early Rabbis (1st through 6th
centuries) taught that verbally maligning and spreading malicious gossip about
others is as bad as any infectious disease.
Not only our homes and clothes—even the words we use to communicate with
one another-- can become diseased. Words
can create; words can heal. Words, it
turns out, can also hurt you.
A further lesson that can be learned from this double
portion is that it isn’t enough just to declare a person healthy again. Following
recovery, reintegration into the community is just as important. Ritual and communal celebration marked the
occasion then as today.
Not in the least irrelevant, the book of Leviticus is all
about connecting humanity with God.
Holiness is a thread that extends throughout all existence. The patterns are infinite. But sometimes, for any number of reasons, the
thread breaks and the design disappears.
At such moments it is important—so important that we label it “holy”—to repair
the damage, to reweave the fabric. We do
so not by instinct, but rather by observation and skill, two abilities that we
humans can hone to near perfection.
Tazria/Metzora teach
that health and holiness—science and religion—aren’t incompatible. In fact, they are inseparable. Overcoming failure and frailty is the main
lesson of the Torah. Built into the
human system, failure and success are intertwined. How we deal with both is what can make us
great. In fact, nearly Divine.
As the Yiddish proverb goes: Abi gesundt. You should only
be healthy, everything else will be there too.
©2012
by Boaz D. Heilman
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