April 17th: Tazria-Metzorah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Most modern Jews find Leviticus difficult. The detailed instructions about animal sacrifices—a form of worship impossible for some 1900 years—do not strike most of us as inspiring. And when we read this week about the rules of leprosy, mold infestations in houses, and various bodily emissions—including those during women’s monthly cycles, many of us wonder how such passages connect us to God. Why is this ancient pseudo-science considered religious?
The “remoteness” of these passages has led many commentators to allegorize them or take a few steps back for a different perspective. How does one find meaning and inspiration in such non-inspirational texts? One possibility is to consider how the ancients did not compartmentalize their lives as we do. Since God created everything, they saw everything in the purview of religion, and thus they did not separate religion from science, or real estate law from etiquette, or torts from animal husbandry, or moral philosophy from personal hygiene. In their minds, all parts of life can be lived in relationship with God.
A perfect example is Asher Yatzar, the “bathroom” prayer which thanks God that “our bodily openings remain open, and our bodily chambers remain closed. Otherwise, we would not be able to stand before God and utter praises.” This Torah of Hygiene continues in the Halachic literature, and contributors include the great Hillel. Among his many teachings are: (1) Bathe and wash your hair (and beard) frequently, caring for the bodily vessel God provides for your soul, and (2) Be careful in the privy lest bits of urine or feces get splashed on your clothing. While the religiosity of such passages may surprise us, they speak to the view that every aspect of life is an emanation of the Divine and can therefore be approached with both grace and gratefulness.
That being said, there are other problems with these passages, among them the assignment of medical duties to religious functionaries. Why, for instance, do Tazria and Metzorah (our double Torah portion) send the Kohanim/Priests out to inspect for leprosy or irremovable mold? Why would the Torah ascribe expertise in scientific or physical things to ritual officials?
Though the Torah does seem to set things up this way, Tradition also reveals a counter-current in which ritual leaders consult actual experts. A prime example is in Exodus when Moses and Aaron go to artisans like Betzalel for the design and construction of the Mishkan. Other examples come in the Talmud where scholarly Rabbis ask for advice from “mere” women, servants, or common people—individuals who are less knowledgeable in Halachah, but who understand the practicalities the Rabbis are trying to imbue with religion. In one famous example, Hillel tells the Rabbis to stop talking and look outside at the common people. The problem is how to carry slaughtering knives to the Temple when Passover falls on Shabbat. While worshippers usually carry their knives, carrying on Shabbat is forbidden. So the Rabbis discuss and discuss without resolution how to get the knives to the Temple. When, however, they look outside, they see the common people putting the knives in the lambs’ wool and letting the lambs do their own carrying. The non-scholars had already solved the problem.
One can also see a theme throughout Halachic Literature of Rabbis deferring to experts in medical science. In Talmudic days, medical science believed that eating fish and meat in the same meal is unhealthy—and so the Talmud prohibits it. When, several generations later, the science had changed, the Halachah needed to change, too. However, lest the new rules show disrespect to the pious elders who had observed the old Halachah, the authorities stipulated that fish and meat eaten in the same meal should be served as separate courses and on separate plates. Gefilte Fish as an appetizer on one plate; then the brisket later and on a different plate!
My point is that our religion has never been unaware of genuine expertise in things practical and scientific, so we may not want to take too literally the Torah’s entrusting of scientific judgment to the Priests. The Kohanim might have been the ones to pronounce someone leprous or not, but I suspect that that they consulted or brought along experts who actually knew.
The Jewish spiritual process involves being aware of and participating in the historic Jewish experience, but it does not insist that everything in the Torah is accurate or even good. One can be completely and appreciatively Jewish without agreeing with everything. What we should do, however, is to try to understand how, on every page of Tradition, our people have grappled with the challenges of life and tried to bring the spiritual to the temporal. In many ways, this struggle is at the core of our Jewish mission—a mission suggested by our name Israel. When our ancestor Jacob "wrestled with both God and humans and prevailed,” the pattern was set. We wrestle socially (and sometimes physically) as we try to fix the world. We wrestle emotionally as we try to improve ourselves. We even wrestle theologically as we try to understand and influence God. We wrestle with the challenges of life as we bring the holiness of heaven to earth.
An insight to this dynamic can come in a closer look at the B’tzelem Elohim/In the Image of God verse in Genesis 1. When God says, “Let us make humankind in our image, after our likeness,” someone else seems to be addressed—someone included by the words “us” and “we.” Some commentators suggest that God is speaking to the angelic court and using the Royal We. Others cite a Midrash about God speaking to the Torah—using it as a blueprint for creating ideal humans living ideal lives. Our Christian friends like to imagine God-the-Father speaking to the other two members of the Holy Trinity, but, in the context of the story itself, God is speaking to the animals. Notice the sequence: “God made wild beasts of every kind and cattle of every kind, and all kinds of creeping things of the earth. And God saw that this was good. And God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, after our likeness.” (Genesis 1.25-26)
If God is indeed speaking to the newly-created animals and saying,“Let us make humankind in our image,” then the creature God proposes to them would be something that combines the animal with the godly—the physical with the spiritual. And is this not exactly what we are? Living in animal bodies with physical needs and in a physical world, we also have the capacity to be holy—to bring some of God’s goodness, nobility, compassion, and wisdom to the world. Indeed, is it not the human challenge to live fully both of our essential qualities: taking care of our physical selves and imbuing life with godliness?
The Torah’s ancient “science” may not be what we know of as science, and ancient social mores may not be what our sensibilities demand, but through every single chapter we can see our people wrestling with reality and trying to do the right thing—trying to bring godliness into their lives and into the world.