April 8th: Metzorah and Shabbat Hagadol
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Our Tradition presents us with two interesting themes this week. The first is a kind of Passover theological tension: Do we wait for God for miraculous solutions, or do we try to solve our own problems? The Rabbis never want to doubt God or Divine Intervention, but they also do not want us to sit around and idly (or even prayerfully) wait for God. You may remember the Torah’s description of the people and Moses at the Red Sea, crying out to God about the onrushing Egyptians. “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward! Lift up your rod and hold out your arm over the sea and split it!’” (Exodus 14.15) God is not dismissing prayerfulness, but this is not the time for praying; this is the time for action.
The Midrash continues this theme in a story repeated in our prayer book (page 38). Originally recorded in the Babylonian Talmud (Sotah 37a) and Numbers Rabbah (13.77), it suggests that Moses’ initial effort to split the Red Sea does not work. Only when the brave Nachshon realizes that the people must faithfully instigate the miracle—and leads them into the water up to their noses—does God’s miracle actually take place.
Another Midrash suggesting that people have a role in God’s miracles comes in Leviticus Rabbah. Though God certainly performs lots of miracles to get Israel out of Egypt, this Midrash asks a question about the people’s role in the Exodus:
“What did Israel do to merit redemption? Four things:
(1) They kept their Jewish names.
(2) They kept the Hebrew language.
(3) They did not gossip (lashon hara, the evil tongue).
(4) They were not sexually promiscuous (like the Egyptians).”
One can certainly see how these behaviors could be seen as meritorious—good behaviors which warrant a reward from God. However, one can also see them as survival strategies—things the Hebrews do themselves to maintain their “national” identity and moral standards.
In modern times, this Midrash is often used to inspire survival behaviors—encouraging Jews to strongly maintain both their Jewish Identities and their Jewish sense of righteousness.
So, as we meditate on Pesach’s messages about Divine Deliverance, we should also remember the parts we can play in our own redemption.
Coinciding with this notion of strong Jewish Identity promoting our survival is the weekly Torah portion in which we learn the ancient rules for diagnosing and treating leprosy. These disparate themes may seem unrelated, but there is an interesting psychological connection. In Parashat Metzorah’s discussion of tza’arah, an ancient malady that affected both humans and houses, there is a both a quasi-scientific angle and a lack of science. The descriptions of both the skin and the house afflictions suggest an actual biological problem. However, we now know that leprosy/Hansen’s Disease and building mildew are not related. There is also scholarly doubt about whether the traditional translation for tza’arah, leprosy, is medically or chemically correct. Something was clearly wrong with both the people and the housing, but there is an air of mystery about exactly what the problem was/is.
Moreover, the Rabbis suggest a moral component to this physical problem: that tza’arah is caused by ethical indiscretion and corruption. We could certainly dismiss this Rabbinic notion as superstition—doubting that God really inflicts leprosy on people who have sinned. However, given the mysterious nature of the maladies—and the non-scientific forms of treatment, the Rabbis may have been on to something. Regardless of the physical malady, there is a kind of moral rot or cultural disfunction/illness that can eat away at our society and our souls. Wisdom urges us to seek protection from it.
This is where the Leviticus Rabbah text comes in. As much as our cultural/religious and moral behaviors while slaves in Egypt might have been rewarded by God’s redemption, viewing them as survival strategies suggests a kind of personal and communal wall of defense. Though we are tempted and challenged by all sorts of stimuli, our integrity as individuals and as a sacred community depend on certain basic standards: a strong Jewish Identity and strong ethical mores.
The myriad situations in our lives defy a simple solution, but our Tradition has provided us a guiding principle. The ancient leader Hillel also lived in a time of great moral and political difficulties, and he counseled the simple value of being a mensch: “In a place where no one is behaving like a human being, strive even harder to be human.” (Avot 1.5)
Our humanity—our innate ability to bring forth the Divine Image—is perhaps our most potent weapon. In the midst of a tidal wave of injustice, violence, mean-spiritedness, rudeness, and evil, we do not need to succumb to the bad examples that abound. We can choose to be menschen; we can choose to stand up for our religious truths and our moral truths. Such strength can bring redemption. As Rabbi Tarphon reminds us: “It is not your duty to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.” (Avot 2.16)