Parashat Tazria/Metzorah

Parashat Tazria/Metzorah
3 Iyar, 5777
Cantor Phil Baron

This week’s parasha asks a challenging question: Is repentance alone enough to wipe away our wrongdoing, or is something more required of us?  And what is the nature of true repentance?

If you have ever demanded an apology from a young child, you know that reluctant repentance is far from adequate. I remember reminding my daughter that a coerced “sorry” under her breath was not enough to earn my forgiveness -- unless it was accompanied by one other important word. The complete mea culpa “I’m sorry” shows the acceptance of responsibility and carries much more weight. My follow-up question to her, “Sorry for what?” was also effective in promoting a positive change in behavior.

Here is a grown-up example of the same thing. A friend of mine was in a business partnership on a film project. My friend felt betrayed by the business partner who, when success seemed imminent, pushed my friend out of the picture and took credit for ideas that the two had developed together. I know, that’s show biz. But when my friend challenged the business partner, his response was, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Not, “I’m sorry I took credit for your hard work,” or even, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”  There was no acceptance of responsibility at all.

I know this is sounding like a High Holiday piece, but I assure you it’s connected to this week’s Torah reading, if somewhat tangentially. Given the earthy nature of Tazria and Metzorah, dealing as they do with childbirth, bodily emissions and leprosy, I thought I’d spend some time studying the Chassidic rabbis who seem to have a spiritual explanation for everything. Rabbi Asher Zvi of Ostroh (c.1740-1817), a disciple of the Maggid of Mezritch, grapples with one important verse of Metzora in his book “Ma’ayan Ha-Chochma.”

“YHWH (we read: Adonai) spoke to Moses saying: ‘This shall be the teaching of the leper (metzorah).  On the day when he is to be purified, he shall be brought to the priest.’”

You might ask, why should a leper visit a priest instead of a doctor? But the priest in ancient Israel was a healer of body, mind and spirit. And here is the key to Reb Asher’s teaching. If we take the leper’s affliction as a metaphor for sin (i.e. wrongdoing), we come to see the antidote as something on the spiritual plane. The rabbi tells us, “Here we are being taught how to serve our Creator. When the evil urge comes along to tempt you with regard to any sin, God intends you to go perform the mitzvah that is the sin’s very opposite. That is why the [temptation to] sin was sent to you, like the shell that you encounter before getting to the fruit.” (Translations from Arthur Green’s ‘Speaking Torah’).

The rabbi is asking us to consider that the reason a temptation to do wrong is sent our way is to prompt us to do good. In fact, just refraining from doing evil is not enough. The temptation is a reminder that a good deed is vying for our attention. “When your intent in breaking through evil is to get to the inner mitzvah, God promises that you will complete that journey and truly fulfill it.”

So, what does this have to do with the suffering of the poor leper? Reb Asher suggests that we read the word metzorah (“leper”) as motsi ra (“defamer”). “Your intent in breaking through evil should be the brightness of the mitzvah, the day when he is to be purified (by good speech). Then, Scripture assures us, he shall be brought to the priest, coming before God in perfect service of the mitzvah.

Note that there are two steps to deep and lasting healing/repentance. The first is to seek purification – taking the step of mitzvah, of doing the opposite of sin, of turning toward the light. But the second step is essential: “coming before God” in an acknowledgement that doing good has the ultimate purpose of transforming the self, so that one day we might not only see the light, but stand in it as well.

It’s clear that a child’s half-hearted “sorry” is an attempt to end the discussion and move on to another subject. An adult who regrets only that his wrongdoing caused you pain is not examining himself in any meaningful way. Neither of them is capable of real change without an awareness of how our behavior resonates both in the physical world and deep within ourselves. Perhaps, the teachings of Metzorah might lead us to this kind of self-reflection, and a renewed determination to change.