Parashat Metsora, Leviticus 14:1-15:33

Illness and healing sensitizes the individual to the extraordinary aspects of daily life.

About 18 months ago, Spain banned some fashion models for being too thin. Two months ago, the Spanish government went ahead with a project to take body scans of 10,000 women. The end result will be clothing that takes into account the variety of women’s shapes and sizes. Think of that: shirts that will fit across the shoulders and chest, as well as having the right sleeve length; pants that are proportional at the waist and hips, as well as having the proper inseam; clothes that no longer appear to be cut for teenage boys. There are those who say that fashion designers make clothes for a particular ideal form. I know I do not fit that ideal, nor do any other women I know.

Designers are not the only ones who have been concerned with the human form. No doubt the most famous example of an ideal body would be Leonardo Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man. Based on the writings of the 1st cent BCE Roman architect, Vitruvius, Da Vinci created a drawing of what Vitruvius considered the ideal proportions of the (male) human figure. It is a picture of a man standing at attention, with his arms and legs widespread. This image appears superimposed within a circle and a square. Apparently, Da Vinci viewed the human body as a microcosm of the universe, and the symmetry of the body was extrapolated to the order of the universe.

The relationship between the body and the universe would make sense to the kohanim (priests) of Leviticus. However, their concern was not the symmetry of the body but the proper functioning of the body in an orderly fashion. Any deviation from that would have to be brought back into orderliness. Reading Leviticus you might think that the kohanim view cleanliness as next to godliness. Not so, to the priestly mind orderliness is next to godliness.

One of the daily blessings found in the siddur speaks of the wonder that is the human body. Taken from the Talmud (Berachot 60b), the blessing asher yatsar (Who has created) draws our attention to our biological complexity and the wonder of how everything functions properly:

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the world, who formed humans with wisdom and created a system of ducts and conduits in them. It is well-known before your throne of glory that if one of these should burst or one of these get blocked, it would be impossible to survive and stand before You. Blessed are You, Adonai, who heals all creatures, doing wonders.

(Translation from My People's Prayer Book, vol 5, p. 108, 110,
Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman, ed., )

While this blessing is centuries old, the appreciation of the human body found in the asher yatsar appears to be so much more advanced than what we read in this week’s parashah Metsora. The name of the parashah refers to an individual with a skin ailment. In this parashah it is the priest who examines individuals with unusual conditions such as skin afflictions or particular discharges. Part of the priestly expertise is determining when an individual must be quarantined due to a skin affliction and when an individual can return to the community. Not surprisingly for the third book of the Torah, reintroduction into the community is accompanied by a ritual. As was stated last week, the priest is a purifier, not a healer.

The ritual is quite elaborate.

…the priest shall order two live clean birds, cedar wood, crimson stuff, and hyssop to be brought for him who is to be cleansed. The priest shall order one of the birds slaughtered over fresh water in an earthen vessel; and he shall take the live bird, along with the cedar wood, the crimson stuff, and the hyssop, and dip them together with the live bird in the blood of the bird that was slaughtered over the fresh water. He shall then sprinkle it seven times on him who is to be cleansed of the eruption and cleanse him; and he shall set the live bird free in the open country.

(Leviticus 14:4-7)

That's not all. The individual undergoing this rite must wash his clothes, shave his hair, bathe and sit outside his tent for seven days. To quote my favorite late night commercial: "But wait! There's more!"

On the eighth day he brings two lambs as an offering, as well as a meal offering. Once the animal is sacrificed: The priest shall take some of the blood of the guilt offering, and the priest shall put it on the ridge of the right ear of him who is being cleansed, and on the thumb of his right hand, and on the big toe of his right foot.

(Leviticus 14:14)

This process is repeated with oil as well.

If all this sounds familiar, you're right. The ritual with the two birds is reminiscent of the scapegoat ritual in Leviticus 16, where one animal is slaughtered and the other is set free. The bathing and sitting at the entrance to the tent are part of the ordination ceremony for the priest found in Leviticus chapter 8. The greatest similarity appears in the description of what is done with the ram of ordination.

On the eighth day Moses took some of its blood and put it on the ridge of Aaron's right ear, and on the thumb of his right hand, and on the big toe of his right foot. Moses then brought forward the sons of Aaron, and put some of the blood on the ridges of their right ears, and on the thumbs of their right hands, and on the big toes of their right feet; and the rest of the blood Moses dashed against every side of the altar.

(Leviticus 8:22-24)

Much has been written about the significance of placing the blood on various parts of the priest's body. This is a discussion for another day. What is interesting is the similarity between the ritual for priests and that for folks with skin afflictions. What gives?

Two thoughts: First of all, the priest was the conduit between the people and God. It was a powerful symbol to have the priest welcome an individual back into the community. Think of the pain of being shunned by your own kin. What could be more comforting than having God's representative bring you back into the communal embrace? If the priest says welcome back, how could anyone turn their back on you?

Second, there is a spiritual component to illness and healing that we often ignore. The blessing of asher yatsar is a spiritual affirmation of our physical being. When we say a mi shebeirach, a prayer for healing, we ask for a physical and spiritual recovery. The ceremony for the metsora mimics the ordination ceremony because both have a spiritual aspect to them. The priest ritually serves in an area that is the threshold between the human and the Divine. The metsora, because of his or her personal experience, has glimpsed this threshold as well. Illness and healing sensitizes the individual to the extraordinary aspects of daily life. Anyone who has been ill, or has undergone surgery or extensive treatment will tell you: Things are different afterwards. It may not all be rosy, or warm and fuzzy, but there is a heightened awareness and appreciation of things. If you could find an ancient priest he would tell you that the experience of holiness is similar. It may not be sunshine and music, but it changes your awareness and appreciation of everything.

Far from being an eternal outcast, the metsora is the closest an individual can come to being priestly. Needless to say, we don't want illness and suffering to be the major component of our experience of holiness. But some trouble is inevitable in everyone's life. Experiencing such difficulty may make one feel as lonely as the metsora shunned by the community. When this occurs, let us remember that we are only a step away from the threshold where we encounter holiness.

Shabbat shalom,
MS