S.A.L.T. PARASHAT TAZRIA

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei Shabbat

            We read in Parashat Tazria the basic rules and guidelines concerning tzara’at skin infections, which must be shown to a kohen who then determines the status of the infection.  The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 15) comments that when Moshe heard this command, that a person with a suspicious skin discoloration must approach a kohen for guidance, he was distressed.  He said to God, “Is this respectful to my brother, that he must look at infections?”  Moshe protested the role of the kohanim in this process, claiming that it is not befitting the honor and stature of the kohanim to have to examine skin infections.  But God dismissed Moshe’s claim, noting, “Does he not receive from them twenty-four priestly gifts?”  According to the Midrash, God acknowledged that it might be dishonorable for a kohen to involve himself in this work, but this is part of the kohen’s “job” in exchange for which he is supported by the nation.

            The idea presented in this Midrash appears as well in the Midrash Tadshei (cited in Torah Sheleima to 13:2):

Why did the Almighty command not that infections should be shown to a person from Israel, but rather only to Aharon and his sons?  For just as they receive their gifts, their teruma and all the sacrifices from Israel, similarly, they should receive their troubles…

God arranged a system whereby a certain tribe is set aside for the service in the Mikdash, and its members are supported by the rest of the nation so they would not have to worry about securing a livelihood.  It was critical for the kohanim, and the rest of the nation, to realize that they, the kohanim, are beholden to those who support them.  They cannot receive their “paychecks” and remain in the blissful environs of the Temple, tending only to the rituals of the Mikdash without tending to the needs of the people.  The kohanim must assume responsibility for the “nega’im,” for the difficult, complex problems that their benefactors confront.  While it is undoubtedly true that the kohanim are supported by the rest of the nation so they could be free from the demands of a career and devote themselves to the service in the Mikdash, they cannot isolate themselves from the people.  Alongside their work in the Sanctuary, they must also assume the less dignified jobs that are needed to help the people cure their “nega’im,” to help them address the wide range of problems and challenges that they confront over the course of life.

            More generally, the Midrash’s comment instructs that the responsibilities of Torah life are not confined to the idyllic setting of the “Mikdash,” the sacred environs of the synagogue or study hall.  Torah life also demands that we deal with “nega’im,” with difficult issues that are not always pleasant and serene.  Like the kohanim, our responsibility as Torah Jews extends beyond the narrow confines of the “Sanctuary,” and requires us to address the “nega’im” that afflict individuals and communities, to do our share to eliminate the “infections” that plague Am Yisrael and move our nation forward toward the realization of our role as a “kingdom of priests and sacred nation.”

Sunday

            Parashat Tazria begins with the procedures required of a yoledet, a woman after childbirth, which include the offering of two sacrifices – an ola (burnt-offering) and a chatat (sin-offering).  The Torah clearly assigns to this sacrifice the role of kapara, atonement (“ve-chiper aleha” – 12:7), which is likely what prompted the students of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai to ask their rabbi why a woman must offer a sacrifice after delivering a child.  What guilt does she bear that requires atonement?  Rabbi Shimon explained to them that while enduring the pains of labor, a woman may likely swear never to engage in relations with her husband, so that she would never have to repeat this excruciating ordeal.  She therefore brings a sacrifice after childbirth as atonement.

            The Gemara records this exchange in Masekhet Nidda (31b), followed by Rav Yosef’s objection to Rabbi Shimon’s theory.  He notes that a sin-offering is effective in atoning only for accidental transgressions, not willful violations.  Moreover, if a woman utters such a vow on the birthing stool and later regrets it, she should simply follow the well-established procedure of hatarat nedarim and have it annulled.  And if she does not have the vow annulled and violates it by reuniting with her husband, then she must offer a korban shevu’a, the standard offering required when violating a vow.  The Gemara does not offer a defense of Rabbi Shimon’s explanation, thus allowing us room to reanalyze his remark and interpret it in a manner that avoids the challenges posed by Rav Yosef.

            It would appear that Rabbi Shimon was not referring at all to the technical issue of violating a vow made in desperation at a moment of insufferable pain.  Rather, he perhaps viewed the sin-offering of the yoledet as a paradigm of a “sin” of which most of us are guilty, on one level or another.  The painful experience of childbirth represents, in the extreme, the fundamental truism that creation and creativity, building and producing, entails hardship.  Childbirth is the ultimate act of creation, and it is fraught with severe pain.  It is thus seen as symbolic of the general rule that achievement comes only through hard work, patience, discipline, and, at times, even tolerating physical discomfort.

            Rabbi Shimon’s remark was likely directed not only at the woman in labor, but to all of us.  He speaks to anyone who has grown weary from the rigors and complexities entailed in living the kind of productive and meaningful life the Torah wants us to live, and has “sworn” that he or she would just give up, that it’s not worth the hardship.  The woman in labor described by Rabbi Shimon represents those who have allowed the challenges of life to make them negative and cynical, who look with disdain on those challenges rather than accept them as the price for a life of meaning and substance.  Rabbi Shimon speaks to the volunteer community servant who begins to wonder “Why bother?” when he is bombarded with petty complaints from ungrateful community members.  He speaks to the educators who question the value of their work when their students misbehave or underachieve.  He speaks to parents buckling under the pressures and frustrations of childrearing, wondering where all the hard work is leading to.  And he speaks to the untold numbers of devoted Jews who make significant sacrifices for the sake of their observance and commitment to Torah learning, and occasionally grow skeptical of the “cost effectiveness” of these sacrifices.

            In short, Rabbi Shimon speaks to anybody whose spirits have been broken by the rigors of pursuing a life of meaningful achievement and productivity.  Just as it is natural for a woman in labor to vow never to go through this ordeal again, similarly, it is natural for a person under any kind of duress or pressure to regret his chosen path which has subjected him to stress and hardship.  And for this we all require “atonement.”  The Torah sends the woman to the Beit Ha-mikdash with her sacrifice in hand, to refocus her attention on her spiritual mission in life.  We, too, overcome the tendency toward negativity and cynicism by redirecting our thoughts and focus onto God, reminding ourselves of our ultimate purpose in His world, and our obligations to serve Him, and remembering that yes, indeed, the hard work and sacrifice are worth it in the end.

Monday

            The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Metzia (86a) relates a famous incident of a “debate” that ensued in the Heavenly Academy surrounding the laws of tzara’at.  The Torah instructs that a white discoloration on one’s skin is considered a tzara’at infection only if the hair growing from the skin has also turned white (Vayikra 13:3).  The Mishna in Masekhet Negaim (4:11) establishes that the individual is considered to have tzara’at only if the discoloration occurred before the hair turned white; if the hair turned white before the skin turned white, then the infection is not considered tzara’at, and the laws of tzara’at do not apply.  The issue debated in the Heavenly Academy was the status of a person if it is unknown whether the skin or the hair changed colors first.  The angels unanimously ruled that such a person is tamei, and considered a metzora, whereas the Almighty Himself ruled that he is tahor.

            In an attempt to resolve the debate, the academy decided to summon the sage Rabba Bar Nachmani, who was known as the generation’s leading expert on the subject of nega’im (tzara’at infections).  The Angel of Death was dispatched to bring Rabba Bar Nachmani to the heavens, and in his dying breaths, Rabba issued his ruling on the controversial question, announcing that if a person does not know whether the hair or the skin turned white first, he is tahor.

            This account, quite obviously, gives rise to many questions, but what seems clear is that the halakha regarding such a case was conclusively determined.  Regardless of how we explain concept of a halakhic “debate” between God and His angels, why Rabba was deemed the authoritative voice on the subject, and why God had him die so he could resolve the issue, it appears that a definitive conclusion was reached.

            Surprisingly enough, however, the Rambam, in addressing this case, clearly indicates that the issue was not conclusively resolved.  He writes that “it seems to me” that a person in this case is tamei.  The Rambam uses this phrase – “yir’eh li” (“it seems to me”) – when he rules on an issue that was not definitively ruled upon by the Gemara.  Evidently, he understood that the issue under discussion here was not resolved in the Gemara, and, moreover, he rules contrary to Rabba’s decision.  Later scholars grappled with the question of why the Gemara did not accept Rabba’s ruling which he issued in his dying breaths.

            The Kesef Mishneh writes, remarkably, that the Rambam applied to Rabba’s ruling the famous principle of “lo va-shamayim hi,” that we cannot reach halakhic decisions based on “heavenly” sources, such as prophecy and the like.  Although Rabba was still alive when he uttered his ruling of “tahor,” nevertheless, since this occurred at the moment of death, it falls under the category of “lo va-shamayim hi.”

            The obvious question arises, why would Rabba’s ruling be considered “heavenly” if it was issued during his lifetime?  Rabba was still alive and here on earth when he stated his decision.  Why would the fact that he died a moment later disqualify his ruling as “heavenly”?

            One possibility, perhaps, is that Rabba’s ruling falls under the category of “lo va-shamayim hi” not because he died a moment later, but because the decision was addressed to the Heavenly Academy.  The decision presented in the heavenly sphere is not necessarily the appropriate ruling here on earth.  Rabba was still alive and in this world when he ruled “tahor,” but he was speaking to the students of the heavens, whose Torah does not necessarily correspond with the Torah that we study and practice here on earth.

            However, from the Kesef Mishneh’s formulation, it appears that Rabba’s ruling was considered “heavenly” because it was issued moments before his passing, and not because it was conveyed to the yeshiva of the heavens.

            It therefore seems that the Kesef Mishneh expanded the scope of the principle of “lo va-shamayim hi.”  This principle establishes that Torah matters are to be decided from the inherently limited and flawed perspective of human beings.  God specifically wanted fallible people – and not angels – to interpret and apply the heavenly Torah.  Halakhic decisions are to be made with the limited and imperfect human intellect, which is never able to see or analyze information from the “heavenly” perspective of perfect, absolute clarity.  As Rav_Ozer_Glickman writes in discussing the Kesef Mishneh’s remark:

Our experience of the world is contextual, limited to the place and time in which we exist. All empirical knowledge is marginal, unessential, and contingent. We derive our knowledge of the world from a continual process of induction far more impoverished than we can allow ourselves to believe. When one has only seen white swans, one concludes that all swans are white. But when a black swan is discovered floating on a faraway lake, we realize that human reason is fallible. Only one who can transcend time and place, who can exist outside the bonds of human fallibility, can speak with such certainty that even those that sit in the metivta de-reki’a must agree. Such certainty is by nature not of our world. It has no standing in the yeshiva shel mata.

In the moment before his death, Rabba had a clarity of vision that was, indeed, “heavenly,” a perspective of absolute truth that does not belong in this world.  Although he was still alive, his vision and understanding transcended human life, as he prepared to make his journey to the next world.  Even at the moment just prior to death, a person perceives and thinks with a level of depth and clarity that falls under the category of “lo va-shamayim hi.”  Therefore, according to the Kesef Mishneh, Rabba’s ruling cannot be accepted, even though he was still alive and here on this world when it was issued.

Tuesday

            The Torah in Parashat Tazria, amidst its discussion of the laws relevant to a woman after childbirth, reiterates the mitzva of berit mila: “And on the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised” (12:3).  The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (132b) cites a berayta which interprets the word “besar” (“flesh”) in this verse as an allusion to the fact that circumcision must be performed even if there is a tzara’at infection on the foreskin.  Normally, it is forbidden to sever from the body skin affected by tzara’at, a prohibition inferred from the verse in Sefer Devarim (24:8), “Be cautious with regard to a tzara’at infection, to carefully observe and perform all that the kohanim, the Levites, instruct you…”  Under ordinary circumstances, a person with a tzara’at infection must follow the Torah’s procedures concerning tzara’at, and may not absolve himself from these procedures by surgically removing the affected skin.  However, if a tzara’at infection appears on the foreskin which must be removed for the mitzva of berit mila, the foreskin is removed in fulfillment of the mitzva, despite the fact that the tzara’at infection is removed.

            The Gemara, in analyzing this statement in the berayta, suggests two explanations for why it was necessary for the Torah to establish this halakha by adding the word “besar.”  In other words, the Gemara provides two possible reasons why we would have otherwise assumed that berit mila should not be performed in the case of a tzara’at infection on the foreskin, thus requiring the Torah to instruct us that the mila is performed even in such a case.  First, the Gemara suggests that one might have thought to suspend the mitzva of circumcision in this case because of the unique severity with which tzara’at is treated.  Even if all kohanim are afflicted with tzara’at, such that there is nobody qualified to perform the avoda in the Temple, we do not permit a kohen to surgically remove his tzara’at so he can officiate in the Beit Ha-mikdash.  In this sense, tzara’at is treated with greater severity than even the service in the Temple.  And the Temple service is performed even on Shabbat, despite the Shabbat prohibitions entailed, testifying to the unique importance of the avoda, and thus making it even more remarkable that the command of tzara’at overrides the avoda.  For this reason, the Gemara proposes, one might have assumed that circumcision should be suspended in a case of a tzara’at infection on the foreskin, and the Torah therefore had to instruct that to the contrary, mila is performed even in such a situation.

            The Gemara’s second explanation of the berayta relates to the halakhic principle of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh.”  Normally, when a mitzvat asei (affirmative Biblical command) requires violating a mitzvat lo ta’aseh (Biblical prohibition), that mitzvat asei may, and in fact must, be performed, as it overrides the prohibition at whose expense the mitzva is observed.  However, the Gemara notes, this rule does not apply if the asei requires violating a lo ta’asei that is also associated with an asei.  In the case of severing a tzara’at infection, the Torah issues two commands: “hishamer be-nega ha-tzara’at” (“Be cautious with regard to a tzara’at infection”), which establishes a mitzvat lo ta’aseh (as the word “hishamer” always refers to a lo ta’aseh); and “li-shmor me’od ve- la’asot…” (“to carefully observe and perform”), which establishes a mitzvat asei.  Indeed, the Rambam, in his listing of the mitzvot, includes both a mitzvat asei to follow the rules of tzara’at (101) and a mitzvat lo ta’aseh (308) forbidding surgically removing a tzara’at infection.  Therefore, the Gemara writes, according to the standard rules governing situations of conflict between an asei and a lo ta’aseh, the command of circumcision would not override the prohibition against severing a piece of flesh affected by tzara’at.  The Torah therefore inserted the otherwise superfluous term “besar” to instruct that circumcision is performed even in situations where this requires severing a tzara’at infection.

            The Rambam, evidently, followed the Gemara’s first explanation of this halakha.  In Hilkhot Tum’at Tzara’at (10:5), the Rambam codifies the law requiring circumcision even when the foreskin is infected with tzara’at, and explicitly attributes this halakha to the general principle of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh.”  He apparently accepted the Gemara’s first explanation, and maintained that this situation is a standard case of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh.”  Indeed, the Gemara later (on the same page) points to the case of tzara’at on the foreskin as a classic example of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh,” and already Tosafot (s.v. hai asei) note the contradiction between this remark and the Gemara’s earlier discussion.  It seems likely that the Rambam understood from this passage that the Gemara accepted the first interpretation of the berayta’s ruling, and rejected the second.

            The question arises as to how we can apply the standard rule of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh” if, as the Gemara noted, severing tzra’at-infected skin entails both an asei and a lo ta’aseh?  How would the Rambam respond to the Gemara’s contention in its second approach, that the mitzvat asei of circumcision cannot override the asei and lo ta’aseh of severing skin with tzara’at?

            The answer likely emerges from the Rambam’s definition of the mitzvat asei of tzara’at.  According to his definition (in Sefer Ha-mitzvot – asei 101), the command is a general one, requiring one to observe the guidelines established by the Torah concerning a tzara’at infection.  This mitzvat asei does not, at least directly, forbid removing a tzara’at infection, as the corresponding lo ta’aseh does.  Rather, it constitutes a general command to abide by the laws and guidelines relevant to tzara’at.  Quite possibly, the Rambam understood that the Gemara does not accept the second explanation precisely because removing a tzara’at infection entails only a lo ta’aseh, and does not violate the asei.  The asei, according to the Gemara’s conclusion, is to abide by the tzara’at regulations when tzara’at is present, but does not forbid removing a tzara’at infection.  As such, we may apply the standard rule of “asei docheh lo ta’aseh” to allow (and require) performing mila even in the presence of a tzara’at infection.

(See Rav Asher Zelig Weiss’ Minchat Asher – Vayikra, pp.109-110.)

Wednesday

The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (132a-b) cites a verse in Parashat Tazria – “And on the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised” (12:3) – as establishing the halakha allowing circumcision even on Shabbat. Although the act of severing the foreskin entails a violation of the Shabbat restrictions, the mila is nevertheless performed on the eighth day even if a child is born on Shabbat.

The Gemara entertained the possibility of inferring this halakha through akal va-chomer deduction, rather than from this verse. As discussed in yesterday’s edition of S.A.L.T., a berit is performed even if atzara’at infection is present on the foreskin, since the obligation of mila overrides the prohibition against surgically removing atzara’at infection. The Gemara notes that this prohibition against removing tzara’at is generally treated with particular severity, as it applies even in a situation where all kohanim are infected with tzara’at and thus disqualified from serving in the Temple. In such a case, we suspend the Temple rituals rather than allow a kohen to remove his tzara’at so he could perform the rituals. And, the Gemara further notes, the avoda in the Temple is afforded particular importance, in that it overrides the Shabbat prohibitions. It thus emerges that the avoda overrides Shabbat, the tzara’at prohibition overrides the avoda, and circumcision overrides tzara’at. It thus stands to reason, the Gemara proposes, that circumcision should override Shabbat. If it overrides the tzara’at prohibition, which is especially strict, then it overrides Shabbat, as well.

The Gemara ultimately rejects this line of reasoning, and concludes that the halakha allowing a circumcision on Shabbat originates from the verse in the Torah – “And on the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised” (12:3) –and not from this deductive reasoning. Two different reasons are given for rejecting this logical deduction. The first reason is the possibility that the Shabbat prohibitions may be considered stricter than the tzara’at prohibitions, despite the fact that the avoda is performed on Shabbat. Performing avoda on Shabbat does not necessarily testify to its “inferior” halakhic status, and it might thus be classified as a stricter halakha than the tzara’at prohibition. Secondly, the Gemara notes, the fact that we do not allow a kohen to remove a tzara’at infection so he can perform the avoda does not necessarily testify to the severity of this prohibition. Even if a kohen would surgically remove the affected skin, he must still undergo a process of purification before he is eligible to perform the avoda, and it is perhaps for this reason that we do not allow a kohen to remove the infected skin, since this would not enable him to perform the avoda until a different day. Thus, the halakha requiring the suspension of the avoda if all kohanim have tzara’at does not necessarily lead to the conclusion that the prohibition of tzara’at is an especially strict prohibition. As such, the fact that berit mila overrides the tzara’at prohibition does not necessarily mean that it should override the prohibitions of Shabbat, as well.

The question surrounding the source of this halakha, allowing circumcision on Shabbat, may yield important ramifications. According to the Gemara’s conclusion, we derive this halakha from the Torah’s command that circumcision be performed “on the eighth day,” even if that day is Shabbat. Clearly, then, this halakha applies only on the eighth day. In a case, however, where a child did not undergo circumcision on the eighth day, he may not be circumcised on Shabbat, since the permissibility of berit mila on Shabbat was authorized only on the eighth day. According to the Gemara’s initial suggestion, however, we have no reason to limit Shabbat circumcision to a child’s eighth day. If this halakha is inferred from the halakha allowing circumcision even in the presence of tzara’at, then just as circumcision is allowed in this case even beyond the eighth day, similarly, we should allow circumcision on Shabbat even after the eighth day. A person requiring circumcision should undergo the procedure immediately even if this entails the removal of tzara’at, and even if he is an adult. Thus, if this case forms the basis of allowing berit mila on Shabbat, then it should be allowed on Shabbat at any age, even beyond the eighth day.

Elsewhere, however, the Gemara explicitly establishes that mila would not override Shabbat after the eighth day even if we accept the inference from tzara’at. Earlier in Masekhet Shabbat (24b), the Gemara cites a berayta that infers from a verse in Sefer Shemot (12:16 – “hu levado yei’aseh lakhem”) that circumcision is not allowed on Yom Tov after the child’s eighth day. The Gemara explains that this inference from the verse is necessary because the author of this berayta subscribed to the theory that mila is allowed on Shabbat (and on Yom Tov) based upon the precedent of tzara’at. As mentioned, if the case of tzara’at serves as the source of this halakha, then it should, at first glance, allow performing circumcision on Shabbat even beyond the child’s eighth day. This berayta therefore inferred from the aforementioned verse in Sefer Shemot that mila after the eighth day is not allowed on Shabbat or Yom Tov, contrary to what we would have otherwise understood based on the precedent of mila in the case of tzara’at.

It thus emerges that according to both approaches, mila is allowed on Shabbat only on the child’s eighth day, and not beyond.

Thursday

            As we noted earlier this week, the Torah in Parashat Tazria discusses the procedure required of a woman after childbirth for her to regain her status of tahora (ritually purity).This procedure includes the offering of a special sacrifice, and the Torah explicitly speaks of an element of “kapara” (“atonement”) associated with this sacrifice, as it writes that the kohen “shall atone for her” (12:7).This gives rise to the obvious question of why a woman would require atonement after childbirth.

            An especially fascinating explanation is offered by Rabbotenu Ba’alei Ha-Tosafot, who claim that this sacrifice does not serve the purpose of atonement at all.  The Tosafists interpret the verb “kh.p.r.” in this context to mean “nikayon”– “cleanliness” – rather than atonement.  Although (as mentioned earlier this week) the Talmud cites a theory that a woman requires atonement because she may have vowed during labor to never again cohabit with her husband, the Tosafists note that according to the plain reading of the text, this sacrifice does not serve to atone for any wrong doing.  Perhaps even more surprisingly, the Tosafists apply this interpretation of the verb “kh.p.r.” to the context of the metzora, whom the Torah also describes as earning atonement through the sacrifices offered upon being cured of tzara’at (see 14:18).The Sages indeed teach that tzara’at would surface as a result of wrongdoing, but the atonement for this wrongdoing is, presumably, achieved in full through the experience of the tzara’at itself.  If the Torah also requires offering a sacrifice after the tzara’at is cured for the purpose of “kapara,” the Tosafists claim, then we must conclude that the term “kapara” in this context denotes cleanliness, rather than atonement for wrongdoing.  The Tosafists apply this theory also to the “kapara” mentioned in the context of the sacrifices brought by a zav and zava– people who experience abnormal bodily emissions (see 15:15 and 15:30).

Rabbotenu Ba’alei Ha-tosafot do not explain precisely what they mean with the term “nikayon,” but we may speculate that they refer, quite simply, to the aesthetically displeasing nature of these bodily phenomena.  It appears, according to Rabbotenu Ba’alei Ha-tosafot, that the Torah assigned the status of tum’a to these groups of people (yoledet, metzora, zav and zava) because of the natural revulsion that these experiences evoke.  People who have undergone these experiences are barred from the Mikdash due simply to the aesthetic quality of the Temple.  The process of “purification” required of these individuals is, essentially, a process of “recovering” from these unaesthetic experiences so that they are again fit for entering the Beit Ha-mikdash.

A possible basis for the Tosafists’ theory is a comment of the Talmud Yerushalmi (Shabbat 1:3) regarding the verse describing the “kapara” of the woman after childbirth – “the kohen shall atone for her, and she shall be purified” (12:8).The Yerushalmi cites this verse as the source of Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair’s remark, “nekiyut meivi li-ydei tahara” – “cleanliness leads to purity.”  Noting the progression indicated in the verse from “ve-khiper” (“atone”) to “ve-taheira” (“purified”), the Yerushalmi sees this verse as alluding to the progression from “nekiyut” – cleanliness – to “purity.”  This remark would appear to suggest that the Yerushalmi viewed the verb “ve-khiper” in this context as referring not to “atonement,” as the word usually denotes, but rather to “cleanliness.”  The Yerushalmi thus inferred from this verse the important role of personal cleanliness in developing the sense of dignity and discipline needed for higher levels of spirituality.  Before one can aspire to the lofty levels of “tahara,” he must first achieve the more basic level of “nekiyut,” of dignified and becoming conduct and appearance.

Friday

The Gemara in Masekhet Arakhin (15b) cites numerous comments from various Sages emphasizing the unique severity of lashon ha-ra – gossip and negative speech about others.  One statement considers one who speaks lashon ha-ra as though “kafar ba-ikar” – he denied God’s existence.  Why would improper speech about other people be deemed equivalent to heresy?

            Lashon ha-ra comes in several different varieties, and results from several different causes.  It is possible that in this passage, the Gemara addresses the common phenomenon of “getting it off the chest,” relaying negative information about somebody as a means of finding comfort and vindication.  Often, a person who has been slighted, mistreated, offended or cheated reports the incident to a friend or family member solely for the sake of finding solace and soothing the emotional scars.  Halakha generally allows reporting such information when this is necessary to receive practical guidance and advice, but disclosing negative information about somebody is not permitted for the purpose of healing an injured ego, or to receive vindication from a third party.  If Reuven offends Shimon, it is not justified for Shimon to discuss the incident with Levi simply to “get it off his chest,” to find comfort and support.

            And this is perhaps the Gemara’s intent in comparing lashon ha-ra with heresy.  As Rav Meyer Twersky explains:

Hakadosh Baruch Hu should not be only an object of belief, a remote reality or abstract concept, rachmanah litzlan. Instead He should be a living presence, our best friend. The commiseration and vindication Shimon seeks are readily available. He simply needs to remember, to internalize that Hakadosh Baruch Hu knows his pain and commiserates with him. Hakadosh Baruch Hu knows that Reuven was unjustified in his treatment of Shimon - thus Shimon's vindication. Feeling Hashem's reassuring presence, Shimon can easily remain silent. Recognizing that awareness of Hashem and/or feeling His presence serves as an antidote to lashon hara deepens our understanding of Chazal's teaching that lashon hara is tantamount to denying Hashem.

If we need support and vindication, we should seek it in our relationship with the Almighty, in the knowledge that regardless of what others have done to us, we still enjoy God’s closeness and affection.  Of course, as mentioned, if a person feels he needs practical guidance in handling the adverse situation caused by another person, then it may likely be permissible to relate the incident to the one in whom he confides.  But if he needs only emotional comfort and support, he should find it in his relationship to God, and not by reporting the incident to somebody else in violation of the Torah prohibition of lashon ha-ra.