Parshat Metzora

Parashat Metzora
Nissan 5, 5771 ~ April 9, '11
by David Carasso

This week’s parsha, Metzora, details the procedure by which a metzora, someone stricken with tzaraat (a skin discoloration), becomes healed. 

Tzaraat is not a physical infection, but a physical manifestation of one’s sins, specifically verbal sins.  Therefore, it cannot be healed by a doctor, even should he win the Man’s Cup.  It cannot be healed by adopting “a healthy lifestyle” of jogging, green tea, or multivitamins.  Had there been a physical cause, the Torah’s prescribed treatment would make no sense.

My great⁴ grandfather, the Chatam Sofer, saw the metzora as a hypocrite – one who acts is if he is pure, while poisoning his entire environment.  This is a most destructive quality, as they appear righteous on the outside, but are unhealthy on the inside.  As it says, “On the day that healthy skin appears on him (bo) he is unclean.”  (13:14) A sign of the affliction is found in a person whose blemish is “bo” – “in him” – his internal character.  Rabbi David Aaron of Isralight once told me that evil isn’t obvious; evil doesn’t jump out in a devil suit.  That’s what we call “stupid”.  Real evil is smart, sexy, and has the appearance of good.  Like the metzora.

Unlike physical diseases, tzaraat does not go into effect as soon as the physical symptoms reveal themselves, but only when a kohen says “Impure!”  What more powerful lesson can there be to the speaker of lashon hara than to show him the true power of even a single word!


The purification ritual involves two live, kosher birds, cedar wood, crimson wool, and hyssop (14:4).  Rashi explains that birds are brought since they chirp incessantly – just as the speaker of lashon hara does, generally overtly without any guilt or concealment.  One bird is slaughtered (representing the malicious speech), and the other is sent away live (representing positive, kind words).  That explains the birds, what about the rest?  Since the affliction of tzaraat is caused by pride, Hashem commanded the metzora to be treated with cedar, hyssop, and crimson wool.  Logically!  No, symbolically.  The metzora was originally proud like a great cedar, but is now humbled down low, like a lowly hyssop bush.  The crimson dye for the wool comes from a worm, and the metzora is humbled again, reminded that in the end he will go to a place of dust and worms.  (Kids: think AOL.)

Why is the metzora’s purification conducted by a kohen?  Perhaps the most frequent victims of lashon hara are the rabbis, writes Rabbi Eli Mansour.  By needing the assistance and guidance of a kohen, a religious leader, perhaps the metzora will develop a proper attitude toward our rabbis.  We should treat our rabbis with the respect and sense of authority they deserve, and seek their guidance, just as the metzora does.


But before any of this ritual, something must happen first – the actual healing.  This healing must come from within the person himself, not externalities.  He must go outside the camp (14:3), find an isolated place, have a change of heart, and repent.  Only then can he be healed.

By being isolated, the metzora also helps others.  The Tur comments, “the nature of this disease is such that whoever deals with the metzora, or even talks to him, is infected with the disease” (13:45).  The Rambam (Mishnah Nega’im 12) adds that the metzora’s isolation is intended to seclude him from other people so they aren’t further damaged by his words.  The isolation is not a punishment, but a means for the metzora to start thinking about his actions, and to do teshuvah.  If he were allowed company, he could happily be among others with tzaraat, consoling each other without repenting.  Or so I’ve heard.


At this point, we’re done, right?  The metzora has gone into isolation, healed himself (sort of), and performed some rituals with a Kohen.  Done, yes?  Not quite.   He has to return to the camp, to society, and that means facing the people he hurt, and surrounding himself with the same funny co-workers that make it fun to talk smack.  The trick is to stay healed, to learn your lesson, not just in isolation, but also out in the real world.

As Rabbi Steinstaltz writes, “Teshuvah has two essential phases: a leap of disengagement from the past, and a lengthier, more arduous process of rectification.  The first phase is one of destruction, the second of reconstruction.  ...  One cannot, indeed must not, spend one’s whole life hiding, physically or spiritually, from one’s surroundings, much less from oneself.  Those who do, reveal weakness and impotence; but worse, they fail to follow through with the process of teshuvah that they originally undertook. …  Judaism’s purpose in not to nullify or shun the world we live in, but to heal and perfect it.”  (Teshuvah Ch. 9).

May we each make time for isolated reflection and improvement, and may we take those improvements out into the real world.

Shabbat shalom.