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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT TAZRIA

by Rav David Silverberg

The bulk of Parashat Tazria is devoted to the laws of tzara'at, commonly mistranslated as "leprosy," a phenomenon that affects either the human body, garments or homes, and generates tum'a (halakhic impurity). In reviewing the laws of bodily tzara'at as presented here in the Torah, a clear association comes to mind between these laws and that of aveilut – mourning for a deceased relative. The Torah establishes the following rules governing an individual's conduct during the period of his tzara'at infection: "As for the person with a leprous affection, his clothes shall be rent, his head shall be disheveled, and he shall cover over his upper lip; and he shall call out, 'Unclean! Unclean!'" (13:45). In addition, "he shall dwell apart; his dwelling shall be outside the camp" (13:46).

These requirements bear close resemblance to the laws of aveilut. In Parashat Shemini, we read of Moshe's instructions to Aharon and his younger sons after the sudden death of the older two brothers. Moshe orders, "Do not dishevel your hair and do not rend your clothes" (10:6). Meaning, the bereaved father and brothers were to refrain from standard mourning practices given the unique circumstances surrounding this tragic event. Clearly, then, mourners generally must dishevel their hair and rend their garments. Similarly, in Sefer Yechezkel (24:16-17), God forbids the prophet from observing mourning practices for the death of his wife: "observe no mourning for the dead… do not cover over your upper lip…" It emerges, then, that a mourner, like a person stricken with bodily tzara'at, must cover his upper lip, dishevel his hair, and rend his garments. The Gemara (Mo'ed Katan 15a) extends this comparison further, establishing that a metzora (person stricken with tzara'at) may not cut his hair or extend greetings, like a mourner. In fact, the Rambam writes explicitly (Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at 10:6) that the metzora must "have his head covered…and cover over his upper lip LIKE A MOURNER."

How are we to understand this association between a metzora and a mourner? And how does the final, particularly stringent requirement – that the metzora reside outside the camp – fit into this structure?

Rav Yonatan Grossman, in an article for the VBM Parsha series several years ago (available at www.vbm-torah.org/parsha.61/26tazria.htm), suggested that a metzora actually mourns for himself. Chazal famously remark that a metzora, among other groups of people, is considered, on some level, dead (Nedarim 64b). What more, the Torah itself describes skin free of tzara'at infection as "chai" – "live" skin (13:16). Apparently, then, tzara'at signifies death. Since, as Chazal establish, one develops tzara'at as punishment for any one of a variety of wrongs committed against other people, most notably lashon ha-ra, he must be removed from society. Rav Grossman argued that the laws of tzara'at are arranged in a manner reflecting the ultimate "removal" from human society – death. The metzora's banishment from the rest of Am Yisrael symbolizes his "death" necessitated by his improper social conduct, and on account of this status he must observe practices of mourning.

A slightly different approach to the correlation between tzara'at and mourning was suggested by Rav Yonasan Sacks (www.torahweb.org/torah/2000/parsha/rsac_metzora.html). Rav Sacks explained that the unique sacred stature possessed by each member of Am Yisrael is of a dual nature. Beyond the intrinsic, personal quality of sanctity within each individual, there is an additional dimension that stems from one's membership in the inherently sacred group of Kelal Yisrael. A person who divorces himself from the nation, who pursues only personal ambitions and loses sight of his place within the collective whole, forfeits his membership in Am Yisrael and, consequently, loses this second dimension of sanctity.

The metzora, who shows disregard for others and thereby, in Rabbi Sacks' words, "severs his bond with the collective kedusha of Benei Yisrael," loses a fundamental aspect of his spiritual being – his stature stemming from his membership among Am Yisrael. It is in this respect that he "dies," requiring a period of symbolic mourning, and for this reason he must physically relocate outside the city, symbolizing his existential detachment from his people.

In this vein, Rabbi Sacks beautifully explains one important distinction between the laws of tzara'at and those of mourning. The onset of Yom Tov overrides and in many instances cancels altogether the observance of mourning. Tzara'at, by contrast, applies even during Yom Tov (see Mo'ed Katan 14b). Rabbi Sacks explains this distinction by examining the reason why the obligation to rejoice on Yom Tov takes precedence over the laws of mourning. This halakha, as the Gemara explains, evolves naturally from the public nature of the festival obligations, which afford them greater significance than private observances, such as mourning for a deceased relative. If so, Rabbi Sacks suggested, we can easily understand why the same rule does not apply to tzara'at. By denying his fraternity with the Nation of Israel, the metzora loses his affiliation with any public, nationwide observances. Hence, the public aspect of Yom Tov in any event does not apply with respect to the metzora. Therefore, the festival obligations, as far as he is concerned, bear no greater significance than his private obligations concerning tzara'at, and thus the rules governing the metzora remain in effect even during Yom Tov.

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We read in Parashat Tazria of the laws concerning the tzara'at infection, which produces the strictest category of all the forms of tum'a (ritual impurity). A person afflicted with tzara'at is banned not only from the Temple grounds, and not only from the city of Jerusalem, but from all walled cities in Eretz Yisrael.

In approaching the concept of tzara'at and defining its nature, some writers classified it as a medical disorder. Most notably, the Ralbag claims that tzara'at results from a lowering of one's body temperature. In this vein they explain the requirement that a metzora remain outside the camp, as a protective measure to ensure that the illness does not spread. The Rambam, in Moreh Nevukhim (3:47), acknowledges that tzara'at is "a contagious disease, and people almost naturally abhor it, and keep away from it," but does not consider the medical issue the critical factor underlying this category of tum'a. Rather, he accepts Chazal's understanding of tzara'at as a punishment for the sin of lashon ha-ra (negative speech about others). The Rambam develops his approach more fully in Mishneh Torah, at the end of Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at, where he observes the fact that the Torah employs the term "tzara'at" in reference to several scientifically unrelated phenomena. There is no inherent connection, he argues, between the tzara'at that surfaces on one's skin and that which affects one's hair, not to mention that bodily tzara'at shares no scientific properties with the manifestations of tzara'at upon clothing, linen, and walls. If the Torah refers to all these events with the generic term "tzara'at," thereby linking them together, then undoubtedly we deal here not with a medical disorder, but rather with a divine warning system intended to inspire the sinner to repent.

Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in an appendix to his commentary to Parashat Tazria, strongly denounces and even ridicules the view that these laws were legislated for medical or sanitary purposes. In his elaborate, comprehensive treatment of this subject, Rav Hirsch cites many proofs from the laws of tzara'at that appear to counter such a notion. He first refutes the identification of tzara'at as leprosy, claiming that leprosy is referred to in Biblical Hebrew as shechin, which is more commonly translated as "boils." And the Torah in Parashat Tazria (13:18) states that tzara'at can develop from shechin only after the shechin – leprosy – has begun to heal and grow healthy skin. Clearly, then, tzara'at cannot refer to leprosy. Perhaps more compellingly, Rav Hirsch draws evidence from the law of "pericha," namely, that if the tzara'at infection covers one's entire body, the tum'a of tzara'at is not generated (13:12-13). The verses emphasize that in such a case, the moment an area of skin anywhere on the body returns to its natural, healthy color, the individual becomes a metzora. It is hardly conceivable that specifically an outbreak of illness throughout one's entire body should be deemed safe and non-contagious, and only once part of the skin is restored to its normal condition the individual suddenly requires sequestering. Rav Hirsch draws our attention as well to a halakha mandating that the kohen examining a person with a possible tzara'at infection look only at readily visible parts of the individual's body. A discoloration in the folds of the body does not render the individual tamei, even if it meets the other criteria for determining tzara'at. This provision can be explained only if we view tzara'at as an independent, divinely ordained system that has nothing at all to do with medical science.

Furthermore, in outlining the procedure regarding discoloration on the walls of homes, the Torah (14:36) orders that the kohen have all items removed from a house before he examines the discoloration to determine its status. As Rashi explains, the Torah issued this command in order to protect the person's belongings, which would become tamei and require destruction the moment the kohen declares the home to be infected with tzara'at. This halakha, too, is incompatible with a medical or sanitary approach to tzara'at; if tum'at tzara'at signifies a medical hazard, the Torah should require destroying one's utensils and clothing regardless of their location at the time of the kohen's pronouncement. If they had been exposed to the alleged tzara'at "germ," they must be eliminated to prevent further contamination. Necessarily, then, we must view tzara'at as a metaphysical, rather than physical, status, which operates according to an independent set of rules and guidelines.

In addition, the mishna (Nega'im 1:4) rules that a kohen does not examine a suspected tzara'at infection on Shabbat. The Gemara (Mo'ed Katan 7b) likewise establishes that one who discovers a discoloration on Yom Tov is not examined until after the Yom Tov, so that his festival celebration would not be disrupted should he proclaimed a metzora. How strange it would be, Rav Hirsch comments, that specifically on a festival, when the entire nation crowds together within the walls of Jerusalem, Halakha suddenly shows no concern for the medical and hygienic threat of leprosy! This, too, appears to demonstrate that tzara'at does not involve any health concerns. What more, based on a verse in Parashat Metzora (14:34), Chazal determine that the laws of tzara'at with regard to houses does not apply in the city of Jerusalem. It is hard to imagine that a disease deemed dangerous just several miles away, in Beit Lechem, for example, would pose no medical threat whatsoever within the walls of Jerusalem.

For these and other reasons, Rav Hirsch, like the Rambam, accepts Chazal's approach to tzara'at as a supernatural punishment for social misconduct, particularly the sin of lashon ha-ra.

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Yesterday, we discussed the theory espoused by some writers that the laws of tzara'at, which the Torah introduces in Parashat Tazria, are intended as medical guidelines aimed at preventing further spreading of the alleged illness. We presented some of the proofs advanced by the Rambam and, much later, by Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, against this theory.

Professor Nechama Leibowitz, in her Studies to Parashat Tazria, raises a more fundamental objection to this theory: "Is the Torah in any case a medical treatise? Surely Scriptures never give detailed technical instructions to man but rather leave it to him to make his own discoveries and himself probe the mysteries of nature." In other words, the Torah serves as a religious guide, providing God's instructions for living a life in accordance with the divine will. Medical and scientific knowledge necessary for the general advancement of mankind and cultivation of the earth is not transmitted through a God-given law. Long before Benei Yisrael stood at Sinai, God ordered man to "capture," or "master," the earth (Bereishit 1:28), to make discoveries and continue the process of creation. But this has nothing to do with Torah; the Torah was given as a purely spiritual guide, providing us with "heavenly" information which, unlike scientific data, is inaccessible through intellectual and experimental devices alone.

Thus, we cannot perceive the laws of tzara'at – nor, presumably, any other mitzva – as a purely medical code. How to deal with infectious diseases is a science that man must develop on his own; God revealed Himself at Sinai not to convey medical information, but rather to instruct us how to live in accordance with His will.

Professor Leibowitz's comments in this regard bring to mind Abarbanel's refutation of the approach taken by some Rishonim attributing the Torah's dietary laws to medical concerns. Abarbanel responds to this theory by exclaiming, "Far be it from me to believe this, for if so, the book of God's law would be on the level of a short book among medical books, which are brief in words and explanations." He objects to such a notion on fundamental grounds, arguing that the Torah is not merely a medical textbook, but rather a revelation of divine law. He seems to point to the argument advanced by Professor Leibowitz with respect to tzara'at: hygiene and medicine are for man to discover and develop on his own; God revealed Himself to convey only inherently spiritual guidelines.

One might respond to this argument by claiming, quite simply, that the importance of physical well being as a requisite necessity for religious observance renders it a religious value. This notion is formulated very clearly by the Sefer Ha-chinukh, in developing the theory that the Torah's dietary laws are aimed towards preserving good health:

According to the Chinukh, the soul's dependence on the body ipso facto renders physical welfare a religious ideal. The Torah thus indeed conveys instructions regarding the maintenance of physical health, in order to help ensure our ability to properly pursue our spiritual goals.

This fundamental argument against the medical approach to tzara'at is thus somewhat less compelling than the numerous proofs we cited yesterday.

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We have devoted our discussion over the last two days to the question as to whether the tzara'at laws, which the Torah introduces in Parashat Tazria, should or may be seen as purely medical or hygienic measures for dealing with this "illness" of tzara'at. We will conclude this discussion today, presenting three more proofs against the medical approach to tzara'at, raised by contemporary writers.

Rav Yehuda Nachshoni, in his Hagot Be-parshiyot Ha-Torah, summarizes the proofs advanced by Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, as we cited two days ago, and then suggests some of his own. Firstly, the mishna in Masekhet Nega'im (3:1) states explicitly that the laws of tzara'at do not apply to gentiles, including geirei toshav – gentiles living among Benei Yisrael. Needless to say, if the tum'a (ritual impurity) generated by tzara'at and its practical ramifications are aimed solely at containing the infection and preventing its diffusion throughout the community, the metzora's identity should be of no consequence. These laws should apply to Jew and gentile alike. Secondly, a mishna later in Masekhet Nega'im (7:4-5) establishes that if one surgically removes the infected skin before the kohen examines it, he escapes tum'a. One who does so, the mishna comments, has violated the Torah prohibition introduced in Sefer Devarim (24:8): "In cases of a skin affection be most careful to do exactly as the levitical priests instruct you." However, since the kohen's declaration is necessary for the halakhic status of tum'at tzara'at to take effect, the violator indeed avoids this status. Even if the kohen examines the detached skin and identifies the discoloration as a tzara'at infection, the individual retains his status of tahara (ritual purity). Clearly, had we viewed the tzara'at laws as purely medical in nature, the individual should be declared a metzora even if he removes the infection prior to the kohen's examination.

Rav Elchanan Samet, in a shiur for the VBM Parsha series several years ago (www.etzion.org.il/vbm/archive/7-parsha/26tazmetz.rtf), finds evidence in the Tanakh itself that tzara'at was not a debilitating – or even contagious – illness. In the fifth chapter of Sefer Melakhim II, we read of Na'aman, the military commander of Aram, who was stricken with tzara'at and ultimately cured in miraculous fashion by the prophet Elisha. The Navi introduces Na'aman as follows: "Na'aman commander of the army of the king of Aram, was important to his lord [the king of Aram] and high in his favor, for through him the Lord had granted victory to Aram. But the man, though a great warrior, was a metzora" (Melakhim II 5:1). Na'aman is described as a powerful, influential, highly respected figure who rose to prominence despite his tzara'at. Seemingly, then, this skin infection had no debilitating effect, nor did it discourage the empire of Aram from assigning Na'aman as its commander, which obviously required his close contact with all military and government personnel.

What more, as Rav Samet notes, it appears that the king of Aram himself did not avoid direct, physical contact with his tzara'at-stricken commander. After Elisha cures Na'aman, Na'aman requests some earth from Eretz Yisrael, which he feels will atone for him when he bows with the king of Aram in the temple of his deity. He tells the prophet, "When my master [the king of Aram] enters the Temple of Rimmon to bow low in worship there, and he is leaning on my arm so that I must bow low in the temple of Rimmon… may the Lord pardon your servant in this" (Melakhim II 5:18). Apparently, it was Na'aman's duty to accompany the king in the temple, and the king, evidently an elderly man, would use the commander's arm to support himself as he bowed. This, too, suggests that tzara'at was not contagious, and people did not fear direct contact with those suffering from the condition. (One might respond to this proof by claiming that Na'aman in truth had not served the king in this capacity during his period of illness, but now that he is cured, he anticipates being reinstated to this post.)

Furthermore, two chapters later in Sefer Melakhim II, we read the famous story of the "arba metzora'im," the four men with tzara'at living outside the city of Shomron when it was besieged by the army of Shomron. The Navi tells that the four men decided to surrender to Aram, in the hope of perhaps receiving some food and provisions and thereby surviving. When they arrive in the military camp, they discover that it had been abandoned, and they begin collecting and storing food and other goods before realizing that they should first bring the news to the people inside the walls, who suffered starvation due to the siege. The flurry of activity described in these verses give the impression of perfectly healthy, energetic, functional people, rather than men suffering from a debilitating disease. Seemingly, then, tzara'at was not a medical condition, but rather a metaphysical condition that rendered tum'a strictly due to the will of God, and not due to medical concerns.

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Over the last several days, we have brought numerous indications that the laws of tzara'at, presented in Parshiyot Tazria-Metzora, are not strictly medical guidelines. The objective of these laws cannot relate merely to the interest in preventing further contamination; they rather comprise a divinely-ordained, metaphysical system of law, aimed at something more than sanitation and hygiene.

Needless to say, this conclusion naturally leads to the next question: if these laws were not established for medical purposes, then for what purpose were they established?

Of course, Chazal, in numerous places, associate the phenomenon of tzara'at with several different violations, most notably, lashon ha-ra – negative speech about others. Much has been written about the significance of tzara'at as an appropriate punishment for social misconduct. Most obviously, as the Rambam writes in his closing remarks to Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at, a person who acts improperly in a social context is appropriately driven from social life. It is fitting for a person who speaks wrongfully about others and disseminates rumors to live a life of solitude, where he can no longer engage in conversation or participate in social functions. Thus, the status of impurity brought on by tzara'at, which demands the metzora's isolation (13:46), helps educate a violator towards proper social conduct.

We may, however, consider a slightly different approach, by surveying the various instances of tzara'at recorded in Tanakh. Most famously, we read in Sefer Bamidbar (chapter 12) of Miriam's critical remarks about her brother, Moshe, for which she is stricken with tzara'at. She, together with Aharon, exclaim, "Has the Lord spoken only through Moshe? Has He not spoken through us as well?" (Bamidbar 12:2). Another famous occurrence of tzara'at is told in Sefer Melakhim II (5:27). After the prophet Elisha miraculously cures Na'aman, the military commander of the enemy nation of Aram, of his tzara'at, the prophet's attendant, Geichazi, chases after the commander and falsely claims that the prophet asked for a gift as reward for his services, intending to keep the gift for himself. When Geichazi returns, Elisha, who was prophetically aware of what had transpired, sharply scolds his student and proclaims, "Surely, the tzara'at of Na'aman shall cling to you and to your descendants forever" (Melakhim II 5:27). Indeed, the next verse tells that Geichazi immediately contracted tzara'at. Finally, Sefer Divrei Hayamim II (26:16-21) tells that King Uziyahu brazenly entered the Mikdash to offer incense – a ritual reserved for the kohanim – and was punished with tzara'at, from which he suffered until his death.

As Rav Amnon Bazak observed (www.vbm-torah.org/archive/parsha65/27-65tazria.htm), in all these situations, the stricken individual had attributed to himself a higher stature than he rightfully deserved. Miriam presumptuously claimed equal stature with her brother, Moshe; Geichazi took the liberty of overruling his mentor, Elisha, who had refused to accept a gift from Na'aman; and Uziyahu sought to extend his authority from royalty to priesthood.

We might add that Na'aman himself may have been stricken with tzara'at for similar reasons. The Na'aman narrative in Sefer Melakhim II describes the commander as "important to his lord and high in his favor, for through him the Lord had granted victory to Aram." Chazal (Bamidbar Rabba, 7:5) interpret this verse as a reference to Na'aman's own self-aggrandizing arrogance, his inordinate pride over his military achievement, as punishment for which he was smitten with tzara'at. Significantly, Rashi and Targum Yonatan understand this verse as identifying Na'aman as the one who killed the Israelite king Achav in battle. The final chapter of Sefer Melakhim I, which records this battle between Yisrael and Aram, tells, "Then a man drew his bow at random and he hit the king of Israel" (Melakhim I 22:34). According to Rashi and Targum Yonatan, this anonymous man was Na'aman, and it was on account of this "heroic" shot of the arrow, which killed Achav, that he rose to the highest military post in Aram. Na'aman prided himself over his grand military achievements, when in truth his rise to glory resulted from his "random" fling of an arrow that coincidentally pierced the body of the enemy king. Thus, his tzara'at, too, served as punishment for placing himself on a pedestal where he did not belong, for ascribing to himself a higher degree of prominence than he deserved.

With this notion in mind, we might perhaps reexamine the function of tzara'at as a punishment for lashon ha-ra. Possibly, the Torah views gossip and verbal back-stabbing as a manifestation of this phenomenon – assuming for oneself an unearned position of authority and distinction. Speaking negatively and derisively about another is perhaps not only harmful, but also presumptuous, reflecting the speaker's exaggerated sense of authority and stature. Appropriately, then, he is cast to the lowest rung on the societal ladder, to the point where he may not even be spoken to or dealt with commercially, let alone respected or treated with honor. Having attempted to assume the role of supreme authority over the actions of others, he is now relegated to pariah status, banished from society and disregarded by all.

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As we've discussed this week, the stringent measures imposed by the Torah upon a person afflicted with tzara'at, presented in Parashat Tazria, are generally understood as a punishment for the transgression of lashon ha-ra – negative speech about others. Today we will address the issue of why God established this supernatural mode of retribution specifically for violators of this sin. Generally, even under ideal conditions when the Shekhina resides among Benei Yisrael and they are deserving of the Almighty's presence, He nevertheless does not perform miracles on a regular basis (with the exception of the miracles performed regularly in the Temple – Avot 5:5). The concept of reward and punishment, however central to Jewish belief, is rarely manifest in so directly, transparently and individually. Appropriately, the Rambam, in Moreh Nevukhim (1:47), compares the phenomenon of tzara'at with the sota ritual; both instances mark glaring exceptions to the generally less-than-obvious character of divine providence. The question, then, arises, why for the sin of lashon ha-ra does God intervene so directly to punish violators?

The Rambam appears to address this question in his comments towards the end of Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at. After explaining the phenomenon of tzara'at as a warning mechanism, intended to encourage the violator to repent and improve, the Rambam elaborates on the particularly grave nature of lashon ha-ra. Somewhat surprisingly, the Rambam does not point to the harm caused to the subject of the gossip, nor even to the broader social effects of negative speech, as the basis for the unique severity of this transgression. Rather, he appears to focus specifically on the long-term effects of lashon ha-ra on the speaker. The Rambam condemns the "wicked, foolish people" who indulge in cynical derision of others, and adds the following remarks as to the dangers of such talk:

The inclusion of these comments at the end of Hilkhot Tzara'at, amidst his discussion of the broader meaning and implications of tzara'at, strongly suggests that the Rambam viewed the need for the tzara'at mechanism from this angle. The gravity of lashon ha-ra, which demanded direct and immediate divine intervention, lies in the negativistic attitude it cultivates within the speaker. One who grows accustomed to speaking negatively and cynically about others will, over the course of time, begin to scoff at even matters of sublime importance. Ultimately, as the Rambam describes, such a person who speak cynically of the Torah itself, and eventually reject it.

It would seem that for this reason God would intervene so directly and miraculously to issue a warning to a violator of lashon ha-ra – to halt the spiritually degenerative process described by the Rambam, whereby one develops within himself a negative, cynical attitude towards everyone and everything around him.

A different approach might emerge from the comments of the Sefer Ha-chinukh regarding the underlying purpose of tzara'at (169-170). According to the Chinukh, the objective of tzara'at is to reinforce our belief in divine providence. By requiring a person stricken with tzara'at to consult with a kohen and follow the Torah's procedures, the Torah accustoms him to attributing events to the Almighty and recognizing Him as the source of our success and failure. The person is reminded that when crisis strikes, besides whatever practical measures he takes in response, he must also turn to the Almighty for assistance. If so, then perhaps we need not struggle with the question of why specifically lashon ha-ra earns such a transparent divine response. In the view of the Chinukh, it was necessary to establish one phenomenon as a direct, obvious manifestation of divine anger, in order to reinforce the belief in providence. Thus, the miraculous punishment for lashon ha-ra does not necessarily stem from the particular nature of that transgression, but rather fulfills the role of underscoring God's ultimate control over all events on earth.

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Towards the beginning of the Torah's presentation of the laws of tzara'at in Parashat Tazria, we read that under certain circumstances, the kohen examining the infected skin does not immediately pronounce the individual tamei (ritually impure by virtue of his tzara'at infection). When the infection is "a white discoloration on the skin of his body which does not appear to be deeper than the skin, and the hair in it has not turned white," then the kohen is to perform something called hesger, which lasts for seven days. In the Torah's words, "ve-hisgir ha-kohen et ha-nega shiv'at yamim" (13:4). Then, after the seventh day, the kohen examines the infection a second time to determine if it has developed into tzara'at.

Two ambiguities make it difficult to translate this clause – "ve-hisgir ha-kohen et ha-nega shiv'at yamim." For one thing, it is unclear what the Torah has in mind with the term ve-hisgir. Though clearly the root s.g.r. involves "closing," it is hard to determine what precisely the Torah here requires the kohen to "close." Additionally, in interpreting this clause we must clarify to what the word nega refers. Generally, nega refers to the infection itself, rather than the person. Seemingly, then, whatever the Torah requires the kohen to do, it is something he must do to the infection, rather than to the individual.

Rashi comments on this phrase, "yasgirenu be-vayit echad" – the kohen must isolate the potentially infected individual in one house. According to Rashi, the kohen declares the individual under "house arrest," if you will, forbidding him from leaving his home. As several writers have noted, this view has strong support from a comment in the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba, 18:5): "Human beings imprison [people] in jail, and the Almighty imprisons [people] in jail, as it says – 've-hisgir ha-kohen et ha-nega'." The Midrash invokes this verse as a basis for the concept of "imprisonment" in the Torah, clearly interpreting it to mean that the kohen orders the individual to remain in his home.

Of course, this interpretation requires a creative definition of the word nega, as a reference to the individual, rather than to the infection. Rav Yaakov Mecklenberg, in his Ha-ketav Ve-ha-kabbala, justifies this definition, noting that very often people in Tanakh are referred to by the actions they perform or some other prominent feature or quality. Quite reasonably, then, in this context, the Torah perhaps describes the infected individual as the nega.

By contrast, the Moshav Zekeinim (a compendium of commentaries from the Tosafists) cites a comment in the Tosefta in Masekhet Negaim – which does not appear in our editions of the Tosefta – explaining this verse differently. According to this interpretation, the kohen would draw a mark in the individual's skin around the infection, so that seven days later, when he must reexamine the skin, he can easily determine whether or not the infection spread. As the subsequent verses establish, whether or not the infection has spread during the week of hesger determines the next step in the process. If the infection spreads during that week, the kohen pronounces the individual tamei. Therefore, in order to allow the kohen to ascertain whether or not the discoloration has spread during the period of hesger, the Torah required that he mark the initial size on the patient's skin. Meiri, in Masekhet Megila (8b), brings this explanation in the name of "a few of the Geonim. The Peirush Ha-Tur, commenting on this verse, cites this approach in the name of his father, the Rosh, noting that it preserves the straightforward reading of the word nega, as a reference to the infection itself, rather than to the individual. Indeed, the Tosefot Ha-Rosh to Masekhet Mo'ed Katan (7a) brings this explanation, but claims that in addition, hesger required that the kohen cover the infection with garments to ensure that it would not fade as a result of rubbing and the like.

Rav Mecklenberg notes that the Ramban did not accept the interpretation of hesger as a demarcation on the patient's skin. The Ramban writes explicitly that when the kohen examined the infection after the week of hesger to determine whether or not it had spread, he need not actually measure the infection. He rather makes his assessment based on his instinctive impression and recollection from his previous examination. Clearly, this comment would be altogether unnecessary if the kohen draws a mark around the infection after his initial examination.

Likewise, Rav Mecklenberg demonstrates that the Rambam could not have accepted this definition of hesger. In Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at (9:4), the Rambam addresses a situation where the kohen who initially examined the infection dies before the second examination. In such a case, the Rambam writes, the kohen who conducts the second examination cannot declare the infection tamei based purely on its having spread; he can declare tum'a only if the discoloration meets the criteria that render an infection tamei at the initial examination. The reason, of course, is that the second kohen did not initially examine the discoloration and therefore cannot determine whether or not it had spread during the period of hesger. Clearly, this ruling presumes that a new kohen would have no indication of the initial size of the infection, thus proving that in the Rambam's view, hesger does not refer to marking the infection's size on the patient's skin.