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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT TAZRIA-METZORA

By Rav David Silverberg

            Parashat Tazria outlines the various forms of tzara'at ha-guf – discolorations on a person's body that render him ritually impure.  For each category of tzara'at ha-guf, the Torah describes the procedure for the kohen's inspection of the given infection and the rules according to which he determines the infection's halakhic status.

The first case addressed is that of a standard tzara'at infection on a person's skin, and the Torah writes, "The kohen sees the infection on the skin of the flesh, and the hair in the infection turned white…the kohen sees it and should declare him tamei" (13:3).  This verse seems redundant, as it twice states that the kohen "sees the infection" (or "sees it").  Why must the verse repeat the fact that the kohen "sees it," before requiring that the kohen pronounce the infection as a nega tzara'at (tzara'at infection)?

The Meshekh Chokhma suggests that the Torah here refers to two different inspections that the kohen must conduct before declaring an individual tamei as a result of tzara'at.  Firstly, and most obviously, he must inspect the discoloration itself to determine whether or not it meets the criteria of tzara'at infections.  But in addition, the kohen must determine whether or not it is a suitable time for conferring the status of tzara'at upon the individual.  As the Gemara establishes in Masekhet Mo'ed Katan (7b-8a), in certain situations the kohen must delay his proclamation of tzara'at, so that the status will not take effect immediately.  Specifically, if a person is discovered to have a tzara'at infection during the week after his wedding, or during a festival, the kohen must wait until after the celebration period, so that the celebration will not be disrupted by the harsh consequences of tzara'at.  The Torah therefore speaks of two inspections: the inspection of the discoloration, and the inspection of the individual's current situation.

Homiletically, we might wish to extend these two "inspections" of a potential metzora to the general realm of interaction with those who suffer from various kinds of spiritual "infections."  Tzara'at, beyond being a technical, halakhic concept, is often seen as representative of spiritual ills; the process of diagnosing and handling tzara'at has been understood by many as symbolic of the handling of spiritual deficiencies generally.  The procedure by which a kohen determines an individual to be ritually impure perhaps instructs us concerning the proper way to go about assessing other people and declaring them to be "impure" in the broader sense.  First, the suspicious "discoloration" must be carefully inspected.  Not every perceived flaw is real; very often, what appears to us initially as a fault in a peer ultimately turns out to be "pure," there is some redeeming factor that prevents us – or should  prevent us – from deciding upon its status of "impurity."  Secondly, even if and when we indeed find a genuine flaw in somebody else, we must determine whether the setting and context is suitable for "declaring tzara'at," for offering criticism and rebuke.  Not in every situation is it necessary or wise to point out a person's faults.  Just as a kohen must exercise careful discretion before declaring tzara'at, so must we all carefully consider all factors before administering criticism and rebuke to our peers.

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            We read in Parashat Tazria (13:45) that throughout the period of an individual's tzara'at, he must announce his status to the public ("ve-tamei tamei yikra").  The Gemara in Masekhet Sota (32b; see also Mo'ed Katan 5a) explains this to mean that the metzora must inform the public of his status so that they may pray on his behalf.  The Gemara then adds, "And anyone to whom something [tragic] has occurred must inform the public, and the public will request compassion on his behalf."  It seems that this halakha establishes a general rule that a person enduring any crisis is advised to inform others of his situation so that they will beseech God to alleviate his suffering.

            This appears to be an example of a common phenomenon in the Torah, where a halakha is introduced specifically in a context where it is least intuitive.  (The most obvious instance, perhaps, is the prohibition against beating a fellow Jew, which is introduced in the form of an admonition to the court not to flog a sinner any more than specifically prescribed – Devarim 25:3).  In most cases of human suffering, onlookers will feel genuinely compassionate towards the victim and pray for his well-being, rather than saying, "Well, he deserves it."  The mystery of theodicy, our general acknowledgment of the fact that even the righteous suffer, forces us to look only at the suffering and give no consideration to the possible offenses for which the victim deserves affliction.  But in the case of the metzora, according to tradition, his suffering is clearly – and directly – the result of spiritual failure.  While the precise sin may not be necessarily identifiable (Chazal list several sins for which one contracts tzara'at), a person suffering from tzara'at most assuredly "deserves" this unfortunate experience.  And yet, the public is nevertheless called upon to pray on his behalf.  Even though it is clear and evident that the metzora has been stricken on account of a grave offense, whoever sees or hears of his affliction must offer a prayer.  This halakha indeed serves as a compelling basis for informing people of all other kinds of crises, which cannot necessarily be associated with any offense, so that they will pray on the victim's behalf.

            This brings to mind the Mishna's comment in Masekhet Midot (2:2) concerning the procedure for ascending the Temple Mount.  The Mishna states that mourners and those in excommunication would ascend and descend the Mount "against the crowd," in the opposite direction from everybody else.  The reason, the Mishna explains, is that everyone will ask them why they walk against the stream and they would explain that they are in mourning or in excommunication, so that the pilgrims will extend their wishes for either comfort or the speedy annulment of the excommunication.  Here, too, the pilgrims are well aware that the menudeh (individual in excommunication) fell into that status as a result of an offense committed against the rabbinic authorities.  Yet, they are expected to extend their wishes to the menudeh and empathize with his plight.  As in the case of the metzora, we are bidden to show concern and sympathy for all Jews, even those about whom it can be said that their misfortune is "deserved."

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            The closing section of Parashat Metzora (15:25-33) outlines the laws relevant to the zava, a woman who experiences menstrual bleeding outside the period in which bleeding would normally be expected.  (Nowadays, we consider all menstrual bleeding to render a woman a zava, regardless of when it occurs in relation to her normal cycle.)  The Torah establishes that should this bleeding continue for three successive days, the woman remains temei'a (ritually impure) until she successfully completes what is known as shiva nekiyim, or "seven clean days," meaning, seven days without bleeding.  Upon the completion of this seven-day period, she immerses in a mikveh and is considered tehora (ritually pure).

            Interestingly, the formulation employed by the Torah in describing the seven-day period bears resemblance to an entirely different halakha – the obligation of sefirat ha-omer.  The Torah writes, "Ve-safera la shivat yamim" ("She should count for herself seven days" – 15:28), just as it introduces the sefirat ha-omer obligation by writing, "U-sefartem lakhem…sheva shabbatot" ("You shall count for yourselves…seven weeks" – Vayikra 23:15).  On the basis of this resemblance, Tosefot in Masekhet Ketubot (72a) raise the question of why a woman does not recite a berakha before performing the required examination on each of the seven days.  If sefirat ha-omer requires counting each day and warrants the recitation of a berakha before counting each day, presumably a zava, too, should count each of her seven days with a berakha.  Tosefot respond that a berakha is recited before counting only when no external factor could potentially disrupt the counting, meaning, when one counts only the passage of time.  The obligation of sefirat ha-omer requires simply counting each day; nothing must occur on each of the forty-nine days to allow for counting, other than the mere passage of time.  In the case of shiva nekiyim, however, it is not certain on the first day that this day indeed begins the seven-day period of shiva nekiyim; the period of shiva nekiyim passes only if no blood is sighted.  Therefore, Tosefot conclude, "She does not count."

            This concluding remark requires explanation.  How can Tosefot conclude that a zava "does not count," if the Torah explicitly required that she counts the seven days?  What more, Tosefot never questioned why or whether the woman should count; they asked only about the recitation of a berakha.  Seemingly, then, they should have written, "She does not recite a berakha."

            Indeed, a note on the margin in the standard editions of the Talmud cites a famous comment by the Shela suggesting an emendation of the text of Tosefot, whereby the final three words read, "ein la le-varekh" ("she does not recite a berakha"), rather than "ein la li-mnot" ("she does not count").  Furthermore, the Shela deduced from Tosefot's discussion that a woman must indeed count the days of the shiv'a nekiyim much as we count the forty-nine days of sefirat ha-omer.  The possibility of the retroactive annulment of her counting as a result of the sighting of blood warrants only that no berakha should be recited over this counting.  However, the woman should, according to the Shela, verbally count each day of the seven "clean days" before performing the daily examination.

            In a famous passage, the Noda Bi-yehuda (Mahadura Tanina, Y.D. 123) resoundingly rejected such a notion, and, extolling the Shela's sanctity and piety, applied to him the Midrashic adage, "Ohev mitzvot lo yisba mitzvot" ("One who loves mitzvot will not be satiated with mitzvot").  The Noda Bi-yehuda adamantly argued that there is no mitzva to count the days of shiva nekiyim.  The Torah merely required that a zava assure the cessation of bleeding for seven days before she can become eligible for purification; there is no obligation to count days as there is in the context of sefirat ha-omer.  Indeed, the Ramban, in his commentary to Parashat Emor (23:15), writes explicitly that unlike in the case of sefirat ha-omer, a zava bears no obligation to verbally count the seven days.  In his view, ve-safera la means simply that she must keep track of the passage of time to ensure eligibility for purification, not that she is obligated to count each day.

            However, as mentioned, the Shela's position appears to be firmly grounded in Tosefot's comments, which, at least according to the Shela's emendation, indicate that the woman must count, only she cannot recite a berakha due to the prospect of the given day's retroactive annulment.  How would the Ramban and Noda Bi-yehuda understand Tosefot?

            Seemingly, the standard reading of Tosefot accepts the prevalent text, whereby Tosefot conclude, "she does not count."  Tosefot's question worked off the assumption that ve-safera la demands a formal counting akin to the counting of sefirat ha-omer, and Tosefot therefore wondered why no berakha is recited.  In their response, Tosefot reject this underlying assumption.  A zava, Tosefot explain, is obligated not to count days, but rather, as the Ramban writes, to keep track to see when no blood flows for seven days.  There cannot be a formal mitzva to "count" seven days when at the beginning of the seven days one has no way of knowing whether the period will continue.  Tosefot therefore conclude, "she does not count," meaning, ve-safera la does not entail a formal obligation to count at all, but rather that she keep track to see when her bleeding stops.

(See Rav Herschel Shachtar's Eretz Ha-tzevi, p. 10, note 1)

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            Towards the end of Parashat Metzora, we read the laws concerning the status of impurity that the Torah confers upon a zav and zava, terms referring to a man and woman who experienced certain bodily discharges other than standard semenal emissions and menstrual bleeding.  As opposed to the cases of a ba'al keri and nida, who experience normal discharges of semen or menstrual blood, the situations of zav and zava are considered extraordinary – the zav by virtue of the nature of the issue, the zava on account of the unusual timing.  Their purification process is therefore more demanding, requiring, among other things, the offering of a sacrifice, consisting of two birds (see 15:14, 15:29).

            The Meshekh Chokhma (15:14) notes an important difference in this regard between the zav and zava on the one hand, and the metzora – the subject of the earlier section of Parashat Metzora – on the other.  Earlier in this parasha, we read that the metzora's purification process likewise culminates with a sacrificial offering, only this offering consists of two sheep, rather than two birds.  (The Torah makes exception for a destitute metzora, allowing him to substitute two birds for one of the sheep.)  As the Meshekh Chokhma mentions, the procedure for offering an animal sacrifice is considerably more complex than the procedure for a bird offering.  Whereas the procedure for a bird offering could be completed independently by a single kohen, an animal sacrifice required the involvement of several kohanim.  According to the Meshekh Chokhma, the Torah required the zav and zava to bring only birds so as to spare them the humiliation that would result from the involvement of a team of kohanim.  They are allowed to bring a bird offering, which can be tended to by just a single kohen, so that their embarrassing status need not be exposed any more than necessary.  The metzora, however, as we discussed earlier this week, is already exposed.  The Torah explicitly requires that the metzora's status be made public; there appears to be no interest in keeping this information private.  Therefore, unlike in the cases of zav and zava, a metzora is required to bring animal sacrifices, which entail the participation of several kohanim.

            Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg (a student of the Meshekh Chokhma), in his Yalkut Yehuda, develops this distinction a bit further.  Seforno (15:2,19) writes that a zav and zava are required to bring chatat (sin) offerings because these phenomena surface as a divine response to inappropriate indulgence in sexual activity and thoughts.  This offense, Rav Ginsburg notes, affects a person's own spiritual self, but does not affect his surroundings (at least not directly).  The sin of overindulgence is a sin committed against oneself, not against his society.  Appropriately, then, the Torah seeks to ensure to it that an individual's status as zav and zava be exposed as minimally as possible.  Tzara'at, by contrast, is most commonly associated with the transgression of lashon ha-ra, negative speech about others, an offense that has a profound, harmful effect on society at large.  The Torah therefore insists that this sin be exposed publicly, corresponding to the public nature of the sin and its potential effects.  Thus, the metzora's status is publicly announced and his purification offering requires the involvement of several kohanim, so as to impress upon as many people as possible the gravity and potential consequences of lashon ha-ra.

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            Towards the beginning of Parashat Metzora, the Torah outlines the procedure whereby a metzora (person stricken with tzara'at) attains purification.  This ritual consisted, in part, of two birds, one of which was slaughtered, and the other dipped in the blood of the first and then sent away (14:5-7).  The Mishna in Masekhet Nega'im (14:1) requires that the first bird be buried after its slaughtering, a requirement explained by Rabbenu Ovadya Bartenura to mean that it is asur ba-hana'a – meaning, one may not derive benefit from it.  Generally speaking, Halakha requires disposing of items from which hana'a (benefit) is forbidden; here, too, the slaughtered bird must be buried to ensure that nobody derives any form of benefit from the carcass.

            As for the second bird, the Gemara establishes in Masekhet Kiddushin (57b) that no such prohibition can apply.  In the Gemara's words, "Lo amra Torah shalach le-takala," meaning, it is inconceivable that the Torah would demand sending the bird away if a prohibition against hana'a applied to it.  Somebody who catches the bird – perhaps many miles away and many months later – will obviously be unaware of the bird's forbidden status, and such a prohibition would therefore be virtually impossible to observe.  Undoubtedly, then, the second bird, as opposed to the slaughtered bird, is permissible for hana'a.  Interestingly, however, Tosefot (Kiddushin 57a) maintain that even the second bird is forbidden until it is sent away; the Rambam (Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at 11:7) appears to argue.

            Several Acharonim make mention of this halakha as part of the controversy surrounding the halakhic principle known as ein mevatlin issur le-khatechila.  The rule of bittul allows one, under certain circumstances, to partake of a food even if it contains a small percentage of forbidden food, since the small amount of forbidden substance is mitbatel, or "nullified," by the majority.  Nevertheless, as codified in the Shulchan Arukh (Y.D. 99:5), one may not actively bring about this process of bittul.  Meaning, although one may partake of food containing a small proportion of issur (forbidden food), he may not le-khatechila (before the fact) go ahead and mix a small amount of forbidden food together with permissible food.  Only be-di'avad, when such a mixture has already occurred, may we rely on the bittul principle to allow partaking of the mixture.  The Rishonim famously debate the question of whether this prohibition, known as ein mevatlin issur le-khatechila, constitutes a Torah law or rabbinic enactment (see Shakh, Y.D. 99:7).

            However, a number of Acharonim draw proof from the Gemara's discussion concerning the live bird of the metzora that the principle of ein mevatlin issur le-khatechila applies on the level of Torah law.  Seemingly, the kohen needs only to "mix" the bird together with two other birds, so that the law of bittul takes effect, allowing one to derive benefit from any of the birds.  Indeed, Halakha establishes that when dealing with yavesh be-yavesh, a solid item that is forbidden but becomes mixed with two permissible items such that none of them can be identified as either permissible or forbidden, they are all permissible (Shulchan Arukh Y.D. 109).  Thus, according to the view that ein mavatlin issur le-khatechila was enacted later, by the Sages, it seems difficult to understand the Gemara's proof that the second bird cannot be forbidden.  Since it becomes permissible the moment it "mingles" with two other birds, the kohen should be advised to mix the bird with others to effectuate bittul, so that the one who later catches this bird would be allowed to partake of its meat.

            The Noda Bi-yehuda (Mahadura Tanina, Y.D. 45) and Chatam Sofer (responsa, Y.D. 319) cite this question as proof to their theory that with regard to "mixtures" of solid items, all Rishonim agree that ein mevatlin issur le-khatechila applies at the level of Torah law.  The aforementioned debate among the Rishonim applies only to situations known as lach be-lach, where two items are mixed in such a fashion that the forbidden substance dissolves within the permitted food.  In such a case, the law of bittul establishes that if the forbidden food constitutes just one-sixtieth or less of the mixture, it essentially "disappears" and the mixture becomes altogether permissible.  However, in situations of yavesh be-yavesh, of two solid items that "mix" together, there is no physical mixture, but rather a reality of safeik, uncertainty regarding the halakhic status of the given items.  Hence, when dealing with yavesh be-yavesh, actively bringing about a "mixture" is far more problematic, as it means intentionally causing a situation of halakhic uncertainty, rather than triggering the physical transformation of forbidden food into permissible food through the process of dissolution.  The Noda Bi-yehuda and Chatam Sofer thus claim that all Rishonim would apply the rule of ein mevatlin issur le-khatechila on the level of Torah law when dealing with solid objects.  Therefore, it would be forbidden for the kohen to render the bird permissible by mixing it together with two other birds.

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            Much of Parshiyot Tazria-Metzora discuss the laws of tzara'at, the discoloration that would affect a person's body, garment or home, and which is traditionally perceived as a divine punishment for the particular sin of lashon ha-ra – negative speech about other people.  (See Rambam, end of Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at.)  The Midrash Vayikra Rabba (16:2), commenting on the beginning of Parashat Metzora, tells the famous story of a peddler who announced that he was selling "life-giving potion."  When Rabbi Yannai requested that he show him this priceless merchandise, the peddler opened a Sefer Tehillim to the verses (34:13-15), "Who is the man who desires life, who loves [his] days in which to behold goodness?  Guard your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deceit; turn away from evil and perform goodness…"  Rabbi Yannai then exclaimed, "All my life I never understood this verse, until this peddler came along and taught me."  Many writers have struggled to explain how the peddler revealed to Rabbi Yannai the true meaning of this verse.

            Rav Simcha Bunim Sofer (son of the Ketav Sofer), in his Sha'arei Simcha, suggests that Rabbi Yannai had been troubled by the sequence of these verses.  It first instructs the one who "desires life" to "guard your tongue from evil" – to ensure to avoid negative speech.  But the next verse then exhorts the reader in far more general terms to "turn away from evil and do goodness."  If the way to achieve longevity is to avoid evil altogether, why are we first advised to avoid the particular sin of lashon ha-ra?

            It is this difficulty, the Sha'arei Simcha claims, that the peddler helped Rabbi Yannai resolve.  He shed light on this issue by comparing proper speech to sama de-chayei – life-giving potion, a drug that helps extend a person's life.  The drug does not work independently to add years onto one's life; it rather sets certain processes into motion within the body to help it ward off disease and the effects of aging.  The extension of life occurs as a result of these physiological processes; the potion is merely what allows these processes to unfold.  Rabbi Yannai understood from the peddler that avoiding lashon ha-ra works in a similar fashion.  Proper speech itself does not suffice to earn long life; rather, like a potion, it triggers certain processes within a person that enable him to "turn away from evil and perform goodness," in the merit of which he is rewarded with a long, happy life.

            So long as one habitually speaks negatively about other people, he will never manage to "turn away from evil."  A person who focuses his attention on the faults of others in most cases fails to look upon his own shortcomings and deficiencies.  In many instances, the preoccupation with the spiritual or moral failings of others results directly from an unwillingness to face the harsh, disquieting reality of one's own failings.  Refraining from speaking about others, diverting our attention from the mistakes and flaws of those around us, will help us concentrate more fully on our own development and ensure that we successfully "turn away from evil and perform goodness" throughout our lives.

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            In Parashat Metzora the Torah presents the laws relevant to tzara'at ha-bayit, the manifestation of tzara'at in the form of discoloration on the walls in a person's home.  The verse says that upon discovering a discoloration, "The owner of the home shall come and say to the kohen, saying, 'Something like an affliction appeared to me in the home" (14:35).  Surprisingly, Torat Kohanim extracts a halakha from the seemingly innocuous word leimor ("saying") in this verse.  According to Torat Kohanim, the word leimor in this verse alludes to the fact that the kohen, upon being told of the suspected tzara'at affliction on this individual's home, must respond with divrei kevushim – words of rebuke.  Since tzara'at manifestations would occur as punishment for certain transgressions – tzara'at ha-bayit is generally associated with the particular flaw of tzarut ayin, miserliness – the kohen tending to the problem must guide the homeowner along the path of teshuva and admonish him to repent.

            The word leimor appears many, many times throughout the Torah.  Why specifically here did Chazal ascribe to it particular importance, such that it was seen as the basis for a halakha?

            Malbim, in his commentary to this verse, refers us to his discussion earlier in Sefer Vayikra (chapter 6), where he identifies the different meanings and implications of the word leimor.  In some instances, he writes, this word refers specifically to a response; it is used when a person speaks not at his own initiative, but rather in response to a question.  Therefore, Torat Kohanim homiletically imposed upon the term leimor in this verse this word's possible denotation as a response, such that it subtly alludes to the kohen's harsh response to the report of the discoloration.

            Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his Divrei Shaul, suggests a different explanation.  The Ramban, in his commentary to Sefer Shemot (6:10), explains leimor as indicating clarity.  When the familiar verse states, "Va-yedaber Hashem el Moshe leimor," it means that God conveyed the given information to Moshe clearly and explicitly, not subtly or indirectly.  (The Ramban disagrees in this regard with Ibn Ezra and the Radak, who understood leimor to mean "to say," meaning, that the information is spoken specifically to then be conveyed to others.)  The Divrei Shaul insightfully suggests that Torat Kohanim understood this to be the general denotation of leimor, and therefore encountered difficulty in explaining this verse in Parashat Metzora.  The Torah instructs the homeowner to say to the kohen, "ke-nega nir'a li ba-bayit" – "something like an affliction appeared to be in the home."  The Mishna in Masekhet Negaim (12:5), codified by the Rambam in Hilkhot Tum'at Tzara'at (14:4), interprets this to mean that regardless of the level of the homeowner's proficiency in the laws of tzara'at, he must not tell the kohen definitively that his home is stricken with tzara'at.  He must speak to the kohen only in uncertain terms, saying "something like an affliction has appeared."  Therefore, the Divrei Shaul explains, the word leimor, which, as the Ramban claimed, denotes clarity and decisiveness, is entirely out of place in the context of the individual's report to the kohen.  Torat Kohanim thus understood leimor as a subtle reference to the kohen's response to the homeowner – a clear, direct and decisive admonition about the gravity of tzarut ayin on account of which this affliction has surfaced.