Inside and Outside

This week’s Torah portion is Metzora, which means one who has Tzaraat, a contagious skin disease. This portion describes the ritual of purification for one who has had such a skin disease. It also speaks about ways that people can become ritually contaminated through discharges of body fluid, and it gives instructions for what to do about mold in houses. The imagery of the purification ritual is somewhat strange. Two birds were brought by the person seeking atonement. That person also brought a piece of cedar wood, a length of red wool, folded into a few strands, and a branch of hyssop, a spongy-leafed shrub. One bird was killed over a basin of water. Then the live bird, the wood, and the red wool were dipped in the blood of the bird that was killed. The blood was also sprinkled on the person seeking purification. Then the live bird was set free. Seven days later the person was to shave and immerse clothing and body. On the next day, the eighth day, the person brought a second offering: animals if they could afford it, flour for a meal offering, and oil. These were sin and guilt offerings. The blood of the offerings and some of the oil was put on the person’s big right toe, right thumb, and right ear.
What can this imagery possibly say to us? The two birds are reminiscent of the scapegoat ritual of Yom Kippur, in which two identical goats where brought before the priest. The priest laid hands on the goats to confess the sins of the community over them. One goat became a Yom Kippur offering of atonement and the other symbolically carried the people’s sins away. In the bird purification ritual, one bird flies away, taking the person’s sins and contamination away. But what does the imagery of the blood mean? Perhaps one thing that is being suggested is that our sins and impurities are far more serious than we think – literally matters of life and death.
In addition there is a second and equally valid suggestion. The Torah says about humans, at the end of B’reisheet, “every product of the thoughts of their heart was but evil always.” And in the next portion, in Noah, it says, “…since the imagery of man’s heart is evil from his youth.” We know that blood is supposed to stay inside a person. Impurity: body fluids, bacteria, anything icky, are all supposed to be on the inside. These things that are meant to be inside of us perhaps correspond to our thoughts and feelings. When they come out and can be seen by other people, as deeds or hurtful words, they cause problems. In the Torah, skin diseases, like the one Miriam contracted through speech and gossip, are associated with arrogance, hurtful speech and unnecessary gossip. When skin diseases and other things that should be on the inside appear on the outside, then we are called to recognize that more is being expected of us and we need to confess, atone, and be forgiven. We know that the Torah’s negative statements about us are not, by any means, the whole picture. We are made in God’s image and we also yearn for love, goodness, wholeness, and a chance to serve and be of help. The purification ritual allows us to realize that we can bring ourselves closer to God and remove the barrier between us and the Divine Presence that we ourselves have put there. The means to do this has been given to us. Our desire to become cleansed cleanses us; and we can then bring forth into the open what we seldom let out from inside: what is finest in us: our desire and longing for holiness, reverence, goodness and Divinity. May we purify our thought, speech, and deeds, so that we can bring forth what is highest and finest.

The Messages of Illness and Healing

This week’s Torah portion is Tazria, which means, conceives. It speaks about how human beings can be contaminated for ritual purposes, that is, when wanting to bring sacrifices, and how they can be purified. Childbirth, which begins this portion, and the flow of bodily fluids such as blood and sexual emissions, and certain illnesses, such as skin diseases, confer impurity. For childbirth there is a period of days before a person can be purified by washing and bringing offerings, but for illnesses, especially those which might be contagious, the one who is ill is instructed to go to the priest. This tradition was a part of so many human cultures whose shamans: priests and healers combined, knew how to bring people to the gates of the spiritual world. In the Torah, the priest was the authority when it came to illness: and was to look at sores and skin conditions, even mold on houses and garments, to determine whether the person or articles should be quarantined, whether the condition might be worsening or abating, and when it was time for that person to be allowed once again to be reintegrated into the community. We might ask, why does the Torah insist that the priest be the one to make these decisions? Why not a person trained or gifted in diagnosing illnesses: a doctor or back then an herbalist or midwife? We know that in the past, the mind body connection was stronger that it is for us today. When someone had an illness it was presumed that the illness was not occurring as an isolated event, but was connected to the whole person, mind, body, soul, and spirit; and further, that every illness has a spiritual component.
This understanding is reinforced by a quotation from the book of Exodus (15:26): God says to Moses, “if you listen diligently to the voice of God your God and do what is just in God’s sight, listen to the commandments and observe God’s decrees, then any of the diseases I placed in Egypt I will not bring upon you, for I am God, your healer.” This brings us back to the teaching that the moral and physical universes are one, and that we are being guided to greater spiritual and moral attainment. While studying the book of Jeremiah, we also learned that the wound is the cure: that illness, war, and disaster can occur to remedy something that may be out of balance in a person or in the society. The Kotzker Rebbe, quoted in the Soul of the Torah, said, “Where purity is removed, impurity replaces it.”
Religion’s goal is to include and not isolate, as noted in the Etz Chayim commentary. It can help a person to develop another perspective on their illness. Perhaps, then, it is wise that a person with an illness goes to the priest. The priest had to evaluate the illness several times, encouraging a real relationship with the patient; maybe to allow and facilitate the patient confiding in the priest, who could then serve as a conduit to spiritual wisdom and healing. Not that we should ever blame the patient, but that a patient may welcome the support of a sympathetic caring person who would be there for counseling if the person wished it. Also, people may impart different information to a priest than to a doctor. The midrash quotes David’s Psalm 139:5: Backward and forward you have hedged me in, You laid your hand upon me. Perhaps this means that illness serves as a message: a teaching, just as does healing. It can serve as a sign that God expects more of us, or that we have been on one spiritual plateau long enough and are being urged forward. We are meant to pay attention to the dis – ease we feel and to ruminate on our inner condition, allowing us to attain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world. Perhaps a disease also serves, in our scientific time, as a pathway for circling back to our more primitive understanding and reconnecting ourselves to the spiritual mind-body connection our ancestors knew, but on a higher level, integrating our scientific knowledge with our spiritual knowledge. Our sages, like the Apter Rebbe, taught that humans were created last so that we could effect the repair of the entire universe. Tazria teaches that it will be more than enough to repair and improve ourselves, and perhaps, by so doing, bring ultimate repair about. By the pathway of self-improvement, we can reestablish the spiritual balance that results in harmony and good health. The priest, as a denizen of both the practical and spiritual worlds serves as an example to us. May we take the opportunity to look deeply within ourselves and allow the events we experience to speak to us, showing us a pathway of growth and blessing. May we know that we are being led to greater wholeness, kindness, and compassion, in illness as in healing, and may we strive to inhabit both the spiritual and the practical worlds every day of our lives.

Thinking For Ourselves

This week’s Torah portion is Shemini, which means, eighth. On the eighth day after Moses set up the Tabernacle, the sacrificial service was to begin. The priests – Aaron and his four sons - had been sanctifying themselves for seven days. It was the first time the people had gathered to see sacrifice performed on their behalf. Moses had told them that God’s Presence would appear to them and it was a joyous and solemn holiday, full of expectation and devotion. Every sacrifice was offered as commanded and God sent heavenly fire to consume the offerings, manifesting the Divine Presence. But just at that time of celebration, two of Aaron’s sons brought an incense offering that was not commanded and they died tragically, in the sight of everyone. Moses tells Aaron not to leave or to show signs of obvious mourning, lest another tragedy occur. Then there is a controversy about whether Aaron and his remaining sons should eat the sin offering. Moses becomes angry that the commandment to eat it was not followed, but Aaron said, “Now that such things befell me, were I to eat this day’s sin offering, would God approve?” The Torah continues, “Moses heard and he approved.” At the end of this section the dietary laws are given.
Shemini is perhaps the most contradictory portion in the Torah. It teaches a number of important things, so it is interesting to try to untangle its contradictions and draw some conclusions. The first message we get is that when we follow the commandments exactly, God is pleased. This idea is reinforced by the deaths of Aaron’s two sons. They brought “an alien fire that God had not commanded.” But just after that comes the two middle words of the Torah, “darosh darosh: Moses insistently inquired about the sin offering.” Our sages say that the Torah revolves around insistent in inquiry. This teaching is in turn reinforced by Aaron’s exchange with Moses. Aaron feels that he must have sinned, or his sons must have sinned, for his son’s lives to be taken, publicly, by God. He feels that he is not worthy to eat the people’s sin offering and he disobeys God’s direct commandment. When Moses hears Aaron’s reasoning, Moses agrees with him. This teaches the importance of motivation. It shows us that our intention is more important than obeying the letter of the Law. In effect, we are being told by this portion to think and not to think. In Buddhism, a koan is a statement that makes no logical sense, but is given to a student to meditate on, sometimes for years, until the inner meaning is revealed. This portion is a kind of Jewish koan: use your intelligence and emotions to make your own decisions while obeying the commandments exactly. What are we to do? A Catholic priest I know, Henry Fehrenbacher, who is a scholar and intellectual once said, “God gave us brains and God is insulted if we don’t use them.” In agreement with this, the Stone Chumash quotes Rabbi Tzaddok HaKohen who said, “This is the first place in the Torah of the exercise of Oral law, in which reasoning is used to define the parameters of the law.” I would go even further. Our sages taught that there were two categories of Torah: written and oral. But I have begun to teach a third category: Newly Created Torah that arises in our hearts and minds, moment by moment, through which God sends us suggestions, feelings, and convictions about what we should do. One Actors’ Temple congregant calls it “God Guts.” Now this can be dangerous, if we do whatever we want to do. The commandment to wear fringes tries to guard against that and reminds us to do what God asks us to do. We are very good at rationalizing our behavior to convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are not. So perhaps we need some guidelines for the decision making process. Rabbi Gelberman used to ask: “Is it good today and will it be good tomorrow?” And I think we all would ask, “Would it hurt anyone?” I would also add: does it exclude anyone, which certainly comes up in the way we keep or don’t keep the dietary laws. Another guideline might be, “Is this in the spirit of what God asks of me? Shemini teaches that it is as detrimental to follow the commandments blindly and unthinkingly as it is not to follow them. Rabbi Eleazar said in the Talmud, A person should always be pliable as the reed and never unyielding or rigid as the cedar. For this reason the reed merited that of it should be made a pen for the writing of the Law (Taanit 20a). Judaism can only live, the Torah can only live when we make decisions using our intelligence and our ability to make fine distinctions and fuse these abilities with giving, loving, unselfish hearts. Maimonides said that all of the commandments only exist to lead us to holiness. They are a means to an end and not an end in themselves. I personally find life to be a moral quagmire, which is constantly presenting me with difficult and challenging decisions; and I am always trying to keep my mind and my heart open when I make them. Shemini clearly teaches that the written commandments do not cover all circumstances. It is up to us to decide how and when to apply them. It is also incumbent upon us to be totally honest and truthful with ourselves about our motivations, which may often be mixed.
May we use our intelligence, love of others, our compassion, and our sense of justice to decide the way we should go. May our desire to elevate ourselves, to join with and help others guide our decisions, and may we cleave to Goodness, using our intelligence, doing what is right, doing what is asked of us, with love and caring.