Metzorah (Shabbat HaGadol)
Lev. 14:1 – 15:33 

Rabbi Gary Pokras 

Shabbat HaGadol is the Shabbat immediately preceding Pesach; and Pesach commemorates the Exodus from Egypt and the beginning of our long journey to the Promised Land. Parashat Metzorah describes the laws for reintegrating a metzorah into the camp. A metzorah is someone who manifests symptoms on their skin resulting from a condition called tzara’at, often mistaken for leprosy. When a priest examines a person for tzara’at and finds the symptoms as described in the text, that person must leave the camp and live in isolation until it is safe for them to return. The rabbinic tradition interpreted the word metzorah as an acronym for the phrase motzi shem ra (bringing forth an evil name – slander or gossip). The symptoms of skin disease were a physical manifestation of a deeper spiritual malady, using speech to cause harm. Rumor mongering and gossiping is judged to be so toxic that its source must be removed from the camp.

However, such separation does not have to be permanent. Our parashah explains that if the spiritual disease heals then the external symptoms will also heal. In this case the metzorah becomes whole again, then and is reintegrated into the camp by none other than the High Priest himself (so that none can doubt the legitimacy and safety of their return). The famous rabbinic commentator known as the Sefat Emet expands the definition of the metzorah to include anyone who has wandered far from God through misguided action. For the Israelites, through their misguided actions, had to wander instead of travelling by a direct route to the Promised Land. When we act against God (and therefore against each other), we sometimes require distance to evaluate and reevaluate our actions and their impact. Then, only from a distance, can we eventually return.  

It can be difficult to welcome back those who have erred, wandered, and found their way back. The Sefat Emet teaches that we should see their wandering as part of a divine intervention – helping the person who needed to travel far enough to uncover their brokenness and find a way to heal and become whole again. We no longer have the High Priest to filter and reinstate the errant. Yet, we are a nation of priests, and perhaps if we look for the hand of God in these journeys, we may find the wisdom, the compassion, the empathy, and the patience to help them return. 

Tazria
Lev. 12:1 – 13:59 

By Rabbi Baht Weiss

Did you know that the Torah contains the first maternity leave?   

Ok, that may be a stretch.  But we find a discussion in this week’s Torah portion of a woman’s physical state after giving birth and her need for isolation.  

This week’s Torah portion Tazria begins by explaining “When a woman at childbirth bears a male, she shall be tamah, impure seven days…On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised.  She shall remain in a state of blood purification for 33 days: she shall not touch any consecrated thing, nor enter the sanctuary until her period of purification is completed.  If she bears a female, she shall be impure two weeks…and she shall remain in a state of blood purification for 66 days.” 

At first glance, this text feels very offensive.  A woman is ritually unclean, “impure” after giving birth? But perhaps there is another way of thinking about this. In a commentary on Leviticus 12:2 (Tz’enah Ur’enah) a parallel is drawn between the period of impurity following childbirth and the mourning period following a death (and yes-I realize one is a happy occasion and the other a sad one): “The Torah states that a woman is in a state of impurity for seven days after giving birth.  Similarly, there is a seven-day period of mourning for the dead. All is counted by the number seven.” A mourner is not in a physically altered state during shivah but rather in a spiritually altered emotional state.  Thus—if there is a parallel between the two moments in life—the week immediately following a birth and a week following a death—it must be that these two are linked by their spiritual and emotional quality.  

Rabbi Helene Ettinger points out “Ritually prescribed periods of isolation often serve dual purposes: first, they protect the community from contact with someone in a “contagious” state (whether that contagion is physical or spiritual) and second, and simultaneously, they protect someone in a vulnerable state from intrusions of the community.  There is no doubt that terms like, tamah, impure, indicate that the newly delivered mother was viewed as contaminated by the birth and the ensuing issue of blood.  That does not negate the fact, however, that for the seven- or fourteen-days following birth, the mother’s special status protected her and legitimated her need to focus on the baby and herself. The succeeding thirty-three or sixty-six days, then, provided an additional cushion of time during which she resumed her full role within her family but remained exempt from certain other communal activities and potential responsibilities.  The legislation found in Lev. 12 guaranteed women a certain amount of recovery time following the birth of a child, and this may well have had a positive effect on women’s lives.”1. 

That’s the maternity leave to which I was referring!  

I have always been offended with the terminology of describing a new mother as “impure”, but I appreciated this perspective, instead viewing it as a special status, that protected her privacy and allowed her time to care for her child and herself.  A new mother is provided boundaries— space and time for her life-changing status. 

Another difficulty with this text—Why are women who birth daughters placed in this “tamah” status double the amount of time—14 days of impurity and 66 days in a state of “blood purification”? It feels troubling to read of different time allotted based on the sex of the child.  But we see that after 7 days, the boys were circumcised on the 8th day and at that time there was no formalized ritual for a daughter entering the covenant. By today’s standards it seems sexist to treat babies differently based on their gender. Yet don’t we do the same when a child is born? By dressing the boys in blue and girls in pink, society is quick to identify and categorize their gender. I used to make baby naming booklets for girls on pink paper, until I realized I was adhering to these gender stereotypes—and supposing my own idea of gender or color preference on these children. Instead, let these children tell us who they are, rather than us proscribing our own expectations on them!  

I suppose one of the reasons that mothers bearing girls were given double the time than boys could be because just as these women created life, these daughters also have the possibility of carrying children one day as well. 

Perhaps this sense of separation creates a respect for the power of women—those who like God create life. In fact, after the period of impurity has concluded, the woman is asked to present sacrifices to God (a lamb as the burnt offering and a pigeon or turtle dove as the chatat (sin) offering). The sin offering served as a vehicle for returning someone in a contaminated state to a pure state; it was not an indictment of that person. 

Rabbi Ettinger explains “Our ability as human beings to create in general, and to create life in particular, links us closely to God. At no other moment do we act so powerfully like God as when we bring forth a new life. The ritual sacrifices following childbirth thus highlighted a women’s unique relationship with God through the shared experience of creation.”  Rabbi Ettinger suggests that “it is our challenge to search for a new and appropriate ritual in place of the ancient sacrifices, one that celebrates Divine-Human connection in the of each new child’s life, regardless of gender.” 

1 Goldstein, Elyse, Ed. The Women’s Torah Commentary, 2006, Jewish Lights Publishing, 2006 p.202-210. 

Shemini (Shabbat HaChodesh)
Lev. 9:1 – 11:47 

Rabbi Gary Pokras (based on the Torah commentary of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks for Shemini, 2018) 

Come near to the altar and offer your sin offering and your burnt offering and make atonement for yourself and the people; sacrifice the offering that is for the people and make atonement for them, as the Lord has commanded. (Lev. 9:7) 

Since every word of Torah matters, and is written with intent and purpose, the rabbis wondered why God had to command Aaron to approach the altar. As the High Priest, wouldn’t he already have been there? Rashi answers: 

Aaron was ashamed and fearful of approaching the altar. Moses said to him: “Why are you ashamed? It was for this that you were chosen.” 

With Purim just behind us, we might be reminded of the story of Esther. When Esther hesitated to approach the king to plead for the salvation of our people, Mordechai responded: “… perhaps you have attained royal position for just such a crisis.” (Esther 4:14) However, Esther’s fear was quite different from Aaron’s shame. Esther had to approach a king, a powerful man, but still just a man. Aaron had to approach God. Esther had not failed in her role so far or made any significant mistakes. Under Aaron’s leadership the Golden Calf was made and worshipped. How could Aaron approach God’s altar knowing what he had done? As many people in our weekly Torah study group have asked, if God punished everyone who was involved in creating the Golden Calf, why was Aaron spared? 

Perhaps it was for this reason. Let’s look again at our opening quote from Shemini:  

“Come near to the altar and offer your sin offering and your burnt offering and make atonement for yourself and the people; sacrifice the offering that is for the people and make atonement for them, as the Lord has commanded.” (Lev. 9:7) 

One of the most important responsibilities of the High Priest was, on Yom Kippur, to confess his wrongs and failings, then those of his household, then those as the people as a whole (Lev. 16:11-17), so that he could make atonement and plead for God’s forgiveness on behalf of all Israelites.  

Commenting on the Rashi, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote:  

“That,” implied Moses, “is why you were chosen. You know what sin is like. You know what it is to feel guilt. You more than anyone else understand the need for repentance and atonement. You have felt the cry of your soul to be cleansed, purified and wiped free of the stain of transgression. What you think of as your greatest weakness will become, in this role you are about to assume, your greatest strength.” 

How could someone who has never sinned understand how to make atonement? It is precisely the depth of Aaron’s mistake and the suffering and struggles which ensued that made him perfectly suited to his role as High Priest, yet he couldn’t see past his own regrets. Moses had faith in Aaron even when Aaron lacked faith in himself – just as God had faith in Moses when Moses lacked faith in himself. Both Moses and Aaron struggled with their weaknesses, and both prevailed.  

The same can hold true for us. Even when the world around us darkens, and we shift from individual doubts to communal fears, we can take a page from this parasha. We can refuse to give in to despair. We can keep going. We can leverage our weaknesses as well as our strengths, so that ultimately, we can prevail.