Dear TBZ community:
This week's double Torah portions of Tazria and Metzora inform us that a house, a physical house, can become ill, infected, impure. I always find this notion wild!
In these parashiot, not only does God instruct Moses about the purification rituals for mothers following childbirth, the procedures for identifying and responding to those infected with leprosy, the laws regarding the emission of bodily fluids, but we also find purification rituals for houses, particularly for walls!
When I read these verses in Leviticus 14:33-57, I wonder, why does Torah deal with such issues? The purification of the body makes (a bit more) sense to me, but of a physical house?
First of all, what is the meaning of God inflicting an eruptive plague upon a house? Why does the Kohen - the priest, have a role checking the house “examining the plague” What is this ritual about?
Why would the house need to be put in quarantine for seven days?
Why is Torah concerned with the replastering of walls?
What do we learn from this detailed description of diseases in the structures of our houses and the work that must be done to get to the source of the problem, which can sometimes call for the full rebuilding of the house?
The Midrash in Vayikra Rabbah 17:2 when trying to answer the question, “why would God inflict a plague on a house?” imagines an owner who is unwilling to help their neighbor and lies when asked for support.
אוֹמֵר לַחֲבֵרוֹ הַשְׁאִילֵנִי קַב חִטִּים וְאָמַר לוֹ אֵין לִי, קַב שְׂעוֹרִים, אֵין לִי, קַב תְּמָרִים, אֵין לִי
אִשָּׁה אוֹמֶרֶת לַחֲבֶרְתָּהּ הַשְּׁאִילִנִּי נָפָה, הִיא אוֹמֶרֶת אֵין לִי, הַשְּׁאִילִנִּי כְּבָרָה, וְאוֹמֶרֶת אֵין לִי
מָה הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עוֹשֶׂה? מְגָרֶה נְגָעִים בְּתוֹךְ בֵּיתוֹ, וּמִתּוֹךְ שֶׁהוּא מוֹצִיא אֶת כֵּלָיו הַבְּרִיּוֹת
רוֹאוֹת וְאוֹמְרוֹת לֹא הָיָה אוֹמֵר אֵין לִי כְּלוּם, רְאוּ כַּמָּה חִטִּים יֵשׁ כָּאן, כַּמָּה שְׂעוֹרִים, כַּמָּה תְּמָרִים יֵשׁ כָּאן
When a person asks their neighbor, "Could you lend me a kav of wheat?" And he replies, "I don't have any."
"A kav of barely?"
"I don't have any."
"A kav of dates?"
"I don't have any."
Or a woman asks her neighbor, "Could you lend me a strainer?"
And she replies "I don't have one."
"Could you lend me a sieve?"
"I don't have one."
What does the Holy One of Blessing do? A plague erupts within that house and the procedures prescribed in Torah compel the owners of the house to bring out all their possessions from the house, and so the truth is revealed. The neighbors see, and say, "Didn't they say they didn't have anything at all?! Look at how much wheat there is, how much barely, how many dates there are!” The owner’s selfishness is uncovered and laid bare in front of their community.
The Midrash continues by playfully breaking into two distinct words the single phrase used to describe the depth of greenish or reddish streaks in the walls of an afflicted house. The Midrash takes sh'kah-arurot, שְׁקַֽעֲרוּרֹת֙ which unbroken means streaks and makes it sh'kah arurot, the curses sink down, meaning the house sinks with these curses.
This teaching calls us to look at the structures of our homes, to uncover what is covered, to look at what lies behind. This teaching speaks not only to our own individual homes but to the walls of our society. It speaks to the structural damages we find and the ways that we often think we can fix it, by simply repainting the surface. It raises the possibility that sometimes a house needs to be fully replastered and sometimes, if the damage is deep and long and dangerous enough, the house needs to be rebuilt.
In a week when,
we continue to follow the trial of Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd;
when another young black life, Daunte Wright, was lost to the hands of a police officer;
when more details about thirteen year old Adam Toledo’s death are revealed to us;
when we follow the protest in Brooklyn Center in Minnesota which continues to reveal to us the pain and injustice of this moment;
when we wake this morning to another mass shooting in Indianapolis;
we are compelled to look at our walls, the walls of each of our homes, the walls of our society, the walls of our police force, the walls of this country and Tzara’at tells us we cannot think that it will go away if we cover it with fresh paint. Paint and plaster will not solve the deep structural damage behind the wall. There is deep damage that has sunk into the structure and the damage, the mold, the rot, contributes to endanger lives and bring pain and suffering to so many.
It is the Kohen, the priest, who is called to assess the damage, the one that sees the depth of this impurity and decides what the next steps must be. The Torah calls us to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6)
וְאַתֶּ֧ם תִּהְיוּ־לִ֛י מַמְלֶ֥כֶת כֹּהֲנִ֖ים וְג֣וֹי קָד֑וֹשׁ
Each of us is a priest. You are a priest and I am a priest, and we all have the obligation to look, to assess and to work on the structural damages of our walls.
As a community we continue to engage in this work and commit and recommit ourselves to this work.
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessings to all of you and your loved ones.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May all those who are ill find healing.
May we have a joyful and restful Shabbat!
Shabbat Shalom
