We have all been taught from a very young age that a Metzora, a person afflicted with a specific type of leprosy, is to be isolated from society. The flaw that brought this malady was that of speaking Lashon Hora — slander, a sin that creates enmity and division among people. The Metzora is thus punished with a 'measure for measure' penalty in being separated from society, until he recovers from his spiritual dysfunction.
According to some opinions, this was a very contagious disease, which would be in line with assuring that this sinner will be naturally quarantined since people will inevitably avoid him.
At first glance this disease would seem to be a form of discoloration on the skin but not necessarily one that is painful, simply a cosmetic issue.
Yet, the Sifra makes a startling comment on the verse that states, "If a person will have on the skin of his flesh a s'eis, or a sapachas, or a baheres, and it will become a נגע צרעת —tzaraas affliction on the skin of his flesh"(Vayikra 13 2), by adding: מלמד שהוא מצטער ממנו — this teaches that he is in pain from it. The Torah inserting the word נגע — affliction, which often is used to describe painful infiltrations, to the already descriptive noun for leprosy — צרעת, indicates it is not simply a superficial wound, but one that penetrates and causes pain. The Ra'avad infers that it may even be a requirement for it to qualify as a bona fide tzaraas.
Why the emphasis on pain? Why is that so critical to its status as tzaraas?
When one slanders another person, most often it is due to discomfort with one's own standing. Either one is in pain because the other person did him wrong, prodding the 'victim' to soothe his anger by slandering the offender. At times it is merely someone so unhappy and disgruntled with his own lot in life that one puts down others in a desperate attempt to quell one's own frustration by diminishing others. Happy people have no need to negate others.
Emotional pain can only be conquered by developing a healthier sense of satisfaction with oneself. All other modes of quashing emotional pain are merely artificial means of dealing with the pain. When the drugs wear off; when the music stops; when the multiple diversions we use to distract ourselves from our situation end, we are still left with our miserable selves.
Chronic physical pain is debilitating. Painkillers lose their effect or are incapable of stifling severe pain. Bad thoughts can be distracted, but physical pain is more impervious to diversions.
The key to conquering the effects of inevitable pain and living a purposeful life is acceptance.
The concept is described in psychological terms as "acknowledging that one has pain, giving up unproductive attempts to control pain, acting as if pain does not necessarily imply disability, and being able to commit one's efforts toward living a satisfying life."
In Torah terminology it means a realization that what I am experiencing is divinely directed and necessary to fulfill my unique role in this world, and that G-d has given me the capacity, albeit a great challenge, to succeed.
A Metzora is one who has a very narrow view of the world. The root of מצורע is צ-ר-ע which breaks down into a צר 'ע' — צר עין, a stingy eye. It is a person who relates and reacts to the world around him centered on his own definition of who he should be, and what he is entitled to. When life doesn't subscribe to his plan he responds with negativity, blaming all those around him for his lack of success.
His therapy will require him not only to isolate, but to experience excruciating pain. In that isolation he will finally discover a new relationship with Hashem, coming to his senses that this heavenly gift of tzaraas was sent by a loving Father beckoning him to reconnect.
The word for pain — צער possesses the same letters as צרע.
The great rabbinic grammarians explain that the basic structure of this word is צר — constricted, with the ע added as an emphasis on the pain of being constrained by debilitating agony.
During that period of isolation, the Metzora will come to understand that one's station in life is not a choice, but a mission. Precisely in that difficult situation, he will realize he has but one loyal ally — G-d.
When he returns to society he will implement, with his now widely opened eyes, a new perspective on life, understanding that we are each unique and equipped to live happily no matter whatever comes our way.
I recently read an interview with an eleven-year-old child, Yisrael Goldreich, who lives in Bnei Brak. He is afflicted with a genetic disease that afflicts one in a hundred thousand births, Osteogenesis Imperfecta, that effects the bones making them extremely fragile. He is restricted to a wheelchair, and on average breaks a bone every three weeks, which requires insertion of telescopic nails to keep them together. He was blessed with a golden voice that is totally unaffected by the disorder. He has a great attitude, a joyous sense of humor, and an amazing faith and trust in Hashem. Although he cannot engage in many activities with his friends, he attends cheder and is deeply loved by all.
His voice teacher taught him a song that his sister composed and wrote the lyrics that have become his anthem, entitled "כך נבראתי" — Such was I created.
I believe it encapsulates the message of this essay.
כָּךְ נִבְרֵאתִי — Such was I created
לֹא מוּכָן לְהִתְחַלֵּף בְּאַחֵר — I am not willing to switch with anyone
כִּי אֶת הַנְּקֻדָּה הַטּוֹבָה שֶׁבִּי — Because that good aspect within me
אֵין לְאַף אָדָם אַחֵר — No one else possesses
וְרַק אֲנִי יָכוֹל לְהַשְׁלִים — Only I can complete it
אֶת הַחֵלֶק שֶׁלִּי בַּבְּרִיאָה — That portion of creation which is me
וְאֵין שׁוּם חָלָק וּפָאזֶל לְעוֹלָם — There is no other piece of this puzzle of the universe
שֶׁיַּחֲזֹר פַּעַם שְׁנִיָּה — That will return a second time
אָז יֵשׁ לִי אַחְרָיוּת וְחוֹבָה וְגַם זְכוּת — I therefore have a responsibility, an obligation, and a privilege
וְאִתָּהּ אֲנִי מַרְגִּישׁ קַיָּם — With it I feel alive
אֲנִי מִשְׁכָּן לִשְׁכִינָה — I am a sanctuary for the Divine Presence
כְּמוֹ אֶבֶן פִּנָּה — Like a cornerstone
לְבֵית מִקְדָּשׁ קָטָן — For my small sanctuary
אַךְ בִּידֵי הָאָדָם הַבְּחִירָה — But it is in the hands of man to choose
בֶּן הַטּוֹב וְהָרַע — Between good and evil
הַאִם אֶת הַנִּיצוֹץ לְהַעֲלוֹת — Will I elevate this spark
הַכֹּל בִּידֵי שָׁמַיִם חוּץ מִיִּרְאַת שָׁמַיִם — All is in the hands of Heaven, except for fear of G-d
בֶּן אָדָם בָּחַר לְהִתְעַלּוֹת — Man, choose to be elevated
(לחן ומילים – רחל אור)
באהבה,
צבי יהודה טייכמאן
