Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Ladi, the first Rebbe of Chabad, taught that a person must always "live with the times". This encourages us to not only tap into the unique energies of Shabbat and the Jewish Holidays, but also to find relevance in the weekly Torah portion and selective daily readings and how they relate to our ongoing lives, both as a community and as individuals.
Through the lense of this week's double parsha, Tazria Metzora, we can gain insight into the unique time we are living in. Tazria Metzora discusses cases of ritual and spiritual impurity, most notably tzaras. Tzaras is often translated as leprosy, but this is a misnomer. Tzaras, a form of spiritual impurity caused by transgression or misdeeds, reveals itself physically, but, essentially, is a spiritual illness. Tzaras is specifically associated with lashon hara, negative speech, as the prophetess Miriam developed tzaras as a result of speaking ill against her brother, Moshe.
Unlike physical illnesses, tzaras not only could affect the skin of the metzora, the "leper," but also could reveal itself on his garments and the walls of his house, creating odd white spots and patches on infected areas. A kohen would be summoned to witness these spots and then he would instruct the leper what steps to follow to remove the spiritual impurity causing the illness, ultimately cleansing the leper of both tzaras and his transgressions.
In the first step towards purification, the leper was forced to leave his house, his neighborhood, and his community to a dwelling place outside the city limits. The Talmud explains that this exile was not to punish the leper, but was the conduit needed for the kind of reflection and personal introspection the leper needed to engage in that can only be accomplished in isolation.
While tzaras is no longer an illness we see today, we are living in the midst of another illness that can force us into isolation whether we want to be or not: Covid-19. Tzaras forced individuals out of their homes and communities until healing occurred, while Covid has forced us homeward and housebound also isolating us from our family, friends, and communities.
So what can we learn from this?
Throughout human history, fighting for physical survival was man's greatest struggle. Acquiring shelter. Acquiring food. Man against nature and man against man.
Today, however, in a time of creature comforts, of suburbs, cars, airplanes, dishwashers, washing machines, surplus food and clothing, rokus and smartphones, our struggles have evolved and turned inward.
Our primary struggle is not man against nature or man against man as it was in the past. The struggle is now man against self, man's search for meaning. We ask ourselves constantly: What do I need to do to be happy? Why am I here? What is the meaning of life? We ask ourselves these questions in solitude and on sleepless nights. In isolation. And now, mandated by health officials to "stay safe, stay home," this sense of isolation is palpable.
Although introverts and urban hermits may have adjusted to this new world, many others feel the weight of unwanted solitude and loneliness. Or even confinement behind the fabric of a mask.
In this unprecedented time in history, however, we have a chance to analyze with clearer vision what is most important to us, what things in our lives hold meaning and what do not, what we can live with and what we can't live without. We have the opportunity to change how we see and process the world, similar to the leper, in his forced isolation away from home and community.
Perhaps we have used this time to develop a new appreciation for our friends and family, who we look to for strength, compassion, and inspiration. Perhaps we have learned not to take our loved ones for granted. Perhaps we have utilized this time to start projects and activities we have always wanted to try or perhaps we have turned to Hashem in prayer for the healing of ourselves, our loved ones, and the planet.
Covid may have taken us inside, but it also may have helped us turn our hearts outward, to our concern for others and to our relationship with Hashem.
Similar to tzaras, our physical health is greatly impacted by our mental, emotional, and spiritual lives. By working on ourselves, nourishing our relationships with others, and increasing our efforts in Torah and Mitzvot, we can physically change the world. One deed at a time.
We have just entered the Hebrew month of Iyar, an acronym for "Ani Hashem Refuecha," I am Hashem, your Healer. As Iyar promises, may this month bring physical, emotional, and spiritual healing to ourselves, our families, and the world and the revelation of the True Healer through the coming of Moshiach and the ushering in of the Messianic Era, when we will no longer know loneliness, sickness, or death.
