PARASHAT TAZRIA

Making a Case for "Tzara'at"

By Rav Michael Hattin

INTRODUCTION

Parashat Tazria introduces us to what is undeniably the most difficult of topics that are addressed in Sefer VaYikra, namely the laws of debilitating skin disorders. At great length, the Torah describes various strange ailments that may afflict an individual's body, or even his garments or his house. While the Parasha opens with the laws of confinement associated with childbirth, it abruptly goes on to spell out in exhaustive detail the condition of "TzaRa'At," or the one so afflicted who is referred to as the "Tzaru'a" or the "Metzora". According to the Torah's description, the malady may strike the skin, the scalp, or the beard. It may occur in the aftermath of a previous lesion or burn. It may afflict garments of wool or linen. It may even strike the stones, mortar, or plaster of a house! In all cases, it is the Kohen or priest who must examine the infection and diagnose it.

A MEDICAL DISORDER?

While often identified with 'leprosy' due to the Torah's association of some strains of the illness with a whitening of the afflicted skin, no other features of a typical leprous condition are indicated in the text. The loss of sensation, paralysis, wasting of muscle and ultimate deformity that occur as chronic leprosy progresses, are completely absent from the Torah's description of the illness, thus rendering such an identification clearly unwarranted. Certainly, a clinical case of leprosy cannot infect articles of wool or linen, nor can it contaminate the walls of a house. Thus, we are forced to conclude that the "traditional" linkage of "tzara'at" with leprosy, a linkage that renders this unusual sickness into nothing more than an unfortunate but natural bacterial infection, is untenable.

Significantly, the Torah is silent concerning the causes of tzara'at. Seemingly, it strikes suddenly and without warning. Sometimes, the Kohen may be able to immediately identify the symptoms and declare the afflicted individual as "tamei" or ritually unfit, but more often than not a seven-day incubation period is required in order to make a definitive diagnosis. And sometimes, a further seven-day period is needed if the first quarantine fails to provide conclusive results. In all cases, the waiting period is characterized by isolation from others, as the potential metzora, his garment or his house, awaits the judgment of the Kohen. In the end, either if the condition turns out to be harmless or else after it has run its course, the Kohen pronounces the ailing person "tahor" and only then may he be re-admitted to the encampment after the presentation of his requisite sacrifices.

FINDING AN EXPLANATION ELSEWHERE

While modern-day scholars and academics have searched in vain for a medical explanation for tzara'at, the classical Jewish sources recognized early on that a meaningful explanation for the condition must be sought elsewhere. Writing in the 13^th century, the Ramban (Spain) remarks that "(the tzara'at associated with garments) is not at all a natural occurrence and does not typically occur in the world, and so with respect to the plague of the house…" (commentary to VaYikra 13:47). In other words, there is no rational explanation for these conditions and certainly no straightforward biological chain of cause and effect that could account for them.

The juxtaposition of the condition of tzara'at with the matter of childbirth that textually introduces it is thus rendered all the more jarring, for while the latter also necessitates some form of temporary isolation that includes inability to enter the precincts of the Mishkan, the condition itself is medically unremarkable in the extreme. Admittedly, childbirth is a profound and transformative experience that may at times be also dangerous, but it is certainly not "unnatural". Nothing could be more mundane from a detached medical point of view. The course of the condition is predictable, the symptoms conventional, and the prognosis inevitable. The course of tzara'at, on the other hand, must be regarded as progressing completely beyond the realm of what may be regarded as medically anticipated.

THE LINKAGE WITH SPIRITUAL MALAISE AND LASHON HARA

It is therefore not surprising that when the ancients came to ponder these laws, they arrived at the inescapable conclusion that the condition of tzara'at is a function not of viral or bacterial pathogens or else exposure to dangerous chemical substances, but rather is intrinsically connected to the spiritual state of the ailing victim's soul. The recurring vocabulary of "tamei" and "tahor" that is used to describe the condition supports this assumption, for almost everywhere else in Sefer VaYikra the terms relate exclusively to a person's fitness or unfitness to enter the sanctified precincts of the Mishkan and to partake of the related sacrificial foods. In other words, one who is "tamei" is barred from approach while one who is "tahor" is not. And while it may be tempting for we moderns to reduce the discussion to rational considerations of physical hygiene or medical health, as if "tamei" meant "unclean" and "tahor" meant "clean," nothing could be more inaccurate. These two terms, really mirror images of each other bound up in a tight binary relationship, describe the parameters of a person's suitability to stand in God's presence, as signified by either admittance or else exclusion from the confines of His house.

To be more specific, the Rabbis (see Talmud Bavli Tractate 'Arachin 15b-16b) associated the ailment of tzara'at with the particular transgression of "lashon hara" or disparaging speech, as implied by the episode of Miriam described in Sefer BeMidbar/Numbers Chapter 12:

In the case of Miriam, we note many of the "classical" features of the tzara'at condition: a harmful and horrifying whitening of the skin that precipitates a stern exclusion from the presence of God and from the camp of Israel, until such time as "healing" takes place, designated here, just as in our Parasha, as a period of seven days. The episode of Miriam, however, provides us with one additional and critical detail: according to the text, her sudden affliction was brought upon her through her misuse of speech, for she had deliberately spoken ill of her brother.

For the Rabbis the linkage was not only well-nigh undeniable, it also admirably provided a rationale for the striking requirement of exclusion from the camp. As the Rambam (12^th century, Egypt) colorfully put it at the conclusion of his lengthy and detailed codification of these laws (Laws of Tumat Tzara'at, 16:10): "…(the one suffering from tzara'at) would be publicly separated and isolated so that he would be unable to engage in the chatter of the wicked, namely foolish words and evil speech…" To speak ill of someone else is to tear asunder the social fabric, for individual people can be brought together as family or as community only in direct proportion to the amount of trust that underlies their relationships. It is only fitting, therefore, that the tzaru'a is relocated to the outside of the camp where he must dwell in complete isolation until such time as he relents, recognizing the danger to communal cohesiveness that his evil speech engenders.

CONSEQUENCES OF THE RABBINIC INTERPRETATION

By explaining an ostensibly medical ailment as actually indicating a spiritual failing of the character, the Rabbis surely rescued our Parasha from oblivion. What had seemed to the reader to be a baffling and irrelevant condition, of interest only to overachieving medical sleuths who peruse ancient texts aspiring to unlock obscure mysteries of diagnoses, suddenly became relevant and real. And what had appeared to be an infrequent and unusual ailment, strange in the extreme and of little import, was now revealed to be widespread and endemic. Who could not readily comprehend the scourge of lashon hara? Who had not experienced, at some point or another, its deleterious effects? And who could not personally identify with the insane delight associated with its propagation? With the linkage of the Rabbis, the vast amount of verses that the Torah devotes to the arcane subject of tzara'at suddenly became entirely appropriate (if not insufficient!), for they are nothing but a reflection of the pervasiveness of this sad phenomenon that poisons so many of our social interactions.

We may of course justifiably wonder, if the identification of the Rabbis is correct, why it is that this ailment of tzara'at is no longer extant? Surely the lashon hara that is its root cause is very much still with us; why then has the condition so completely disappeared? Could we not still benefit from the corrective and rehabilitative course of treatment that the Torah prescribes for it? Might not the astonishing effects of tzara'at quite quickly eradicate the blight of lashon hara from our midst, as no amount of instruction and exhortation have yet succeeded in doing?

THE CONTRIBUTION OF THE RAMBAN

We return again to the words of the Ramban (13^th century, Spain) that we quoted in passing earlier on:

The Ramban introduces two related ideas to explain the phenomenon of tzara'at. First of all, he posits that the ailment is supernatural and is a direct function of one thing only: the withdrawal of the Divine presence. No doubt he was inspired by the report concerning Miriam that "God was angry with them and He departed. The cloud lifted off of the tent, and behold Miriam was as 'metzora'at' as snow" (BeMidbar 12:9-10). In the passage, the onset of Miriam's ailment was clearly marked by the departure of His cloud, the manifestation of His presence, and for the Ramban this was not merely a confluence of events but rather a deliberate case of cause and effect. God's presence sustains us, His involvement preserves us, and when we banish Him by our misdeeds then His protective support dissipates and tzara'at fills the void. Tzara'at then is a direct consequence of Divine distancing.

But the Ramban qualifies this thesis by remarking that these effects are only noteworthy for the individual "when the people of Israel are whole in their relationship with God". In other words, the experience of God's absence is only significant when there is a profound experience of His presence to begin with. When the people of Israel are "whole" with God and close to Him, when they bask in the light and warmth of His words and perform the commands of His Torah, when they choose as a nation the path of observance and fulfillment, then the individual who strays unleashes a dynamic that breeds a physical symptom of their spiritual estrangement. But if the people of Israel are anywise insensitive to His presence and alienated from His Torah, then how shall His absence be even recognized let alone felt in a tangible way? The absence of a loved one sows sorrow and fosters longing; the absence of a stranger leaves us unmoved.

But for the Ramban there is second aspect to the matter. When we speak of the profound experience of God's presence then we must confine our discussion to only one locale: the land of Israel. It is there that the Shechina resides and it is there that the most intense expression of His immediacy is to be sought. God's glory indeed fills the cosmos but the experience of that glory is more circumscribed. While we tend to seek out and to celebrate God's closeness in good deeds and in noble thoughts, it is also to be found in physical spaces. And while we tend to identify these physical spaces with sacred houses of worship wherein we engage in prayer and thanksgiving, God is also to be found in a LAND, in a CITY, and in a TEMPLE from whence His glory radiates outwards. But like the first premise of the Ramban's theory, this postulate also depends upon human sensitivity, for if the human heart is adamant as stone and the human mind is deaf, then even one who stands at the very portals of the Temple at Jerusalem will remain impassive. How shall the man indifferent to his soul and apathetic to the Divine spark that vivifies his being be distraught by the departure of God from his life?

There are therefore two conditions that are paradoxically required in order for most forms of tzara'at to be at all possible: first of all, the NATION of Israel must be living its collective life in connection to God. Second of all, they must be living that life in the LAND of Israel. Only under such intense conditions of connectedness to the Divine is the physical manifestation associated with the spiritual ailment of tzara'at even conceivable Is it any wonder then that tzara'at is no longer extant?

When we read the sections that detail the illness of tzara'at, our natural tendency is to recoil in horror. What strange and terrible affliction is this that scars one's body and necessitates its quarantine? But the Rabbis alerted us to a different reading that suddenly cast the horror in a different light – is not speaking disparagingly of another human being and undermining with hurtful words his/her reputation and legitimacy also a plague upon our societies? And now the Ramban opens our eyes to an additional dimension: how far we truly are from the presence of God, how insensitive and estranged, when we can scarcely even notice that such behavior is destructive! When the hopeful among us dream of a resumption of certain Torah laws that others regard as hopelessly antiquated, perhaps we are really dreaming of something else: of the day when Israel and God will finally be reconciled, when His gentle demands for sensitivity to others will be heeded, and when His overarching presence will be felt in every event of our lives.

Shabbat Shalom

For further study: it should be noted that the Ramban's interpretation was actually advanced earlier by Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi, the great poet philosopher who lived in Spain in the 12^th century, and shared the Ramban's sensitivity for matters of Jewish nationhood and the Jewish land. Disenchanted with the indifference of his compatriots, HaLevi eventually left what was, until that point, the most comfortable and affluent diaspora in Jewish history and journeyed towards the land of Israel, then under the control of the Crusaders. Opinions are divided concerning whether or not he reached his goal. Rabbi HaLevi's formulation of the idea may be found in his monumental Kuzari, 2:62.