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There is something wonderful in our endless reading and rereading of the Torah: the discovery of new meanings.
The text is not exhausted with the description and understanding of its literal meaning; this only starts us on the path to explore underlying and deeper meanings. Perhaps that is the difference between a divine and a human text.
In fact, the personal experiences of the readers transform their reading perspective; the text does not change; but our level of perception does.
A first reading of our week’s two Parashiot makes them appear as a tedious and obsolete treatise of primitive dermatology. Countless skin diseases are catalogued, and some diagnosis guidelines are provided to priests. Isolation rules are established for those which are contagious, and some sacrificial rituals are prescribed to celebrate the spontaneous remissions. But when we approach the wide world of commentaries and the Midrash, the text acquires an unsuspected richness.
As an example of this assertion, let us quote, for instance, the extended disquisition concerning leprosy and its need for isolation.
The first thing that calls our attention is the unusual word used for leprosy, Metzora, when the normal one would be Tzarua. Commentators think that the word Metzora can be divided in two: Motzi (shem) ra, which although it has no connection with the original, grants it a very illustrative context: evil gossip, slander, Lashon Ha-ra.
And the connection between leprosy and gossip becomes even clearer when we bring up the example of Miriam, Moses’ sister, who was punished with leprosy for a gossip crime, for turning a family problem (or a family resentment) into a public debate subject.
Let us add here that, once the fault and its punishment is known, the cure will also come through speech.
Moses’ prayer for Miriam’s recovery, famous for its being the shortest in history, gives us the appropriate dimension of the power of speech, whether it is to destroy or to do good: “O God, please cure her.”
In just one moment, the dry text regarding leprosy becomes a magnificent debate about the power of speech and its responsible use.
The isolation of the sick person is linked to the actual isolation suffered by the victim of gossip and slander; the husband separated from his wife because of it, the individual cut off from his friend or from society because of it, and is understood as punishment for the sin or as its consequence.
No fault can compare with slander, since its victims are not only those of whom we speak, but also those who listen or pass it on, and of course the person who cast it in the first place.
To our sages, the human capacity of speech is what makes us similar to God. When He breathes the breath of life into Adam, He transforms him into le nefesh haya, a living being. But Onkelos, the ancient translator to Aramaic, translated this phrase as “a man who speaks”.
May we learn through this to respect speech, to avoid at any cost the sins that come from oral violence, and to celebrate and cultivate our extraordinary capacity to create through speech, just as God Himself does.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Mario Gurevich
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Forwarded by Rabbi Gustavo Kraselnik, from Kol Shearith Israel Congregation, Panama.
Translated by Inés Baum and proofread by Ellen Zindler, from B’nei Israel Congregation, Costa Rica.
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