The focus of this portion is upon tzora’as, a supernatural physical affliction sent to warn someone to refrain from speaking badly about others. The disease progressively afflicted home, clothes and then one’s skin — unless the individual corrected his ways and followed the purification process stated in the Torah.
“And it will be in the skin of his flesh the plague of tzora’as” (Lev. 12:2). In this verse the term vehaya (“And it will”) is used which denotes joy. Tzora’as is a very painful affliction, what possible joy can there be in having it? Rabbi Zelig Pliskin explains that pain can be viewed as meaningful or random. If pain has meaning — like the pain that accompanies giving birth — the pain is more bearable. If one appreciates that pain can be a wake up call to examine one’s life, an atonement for something one has done wrong or a challenge and opportunity to grow, then one can appreciate the pain and value its benefit. A person may wish he did not have the pain. He may hate the pain. However, with focus one can have an element of joy in appreciating its meaningfulness.
The sages taught that tzara’at was not a bodily disease, but a physical manifestation of a spiritual disease. They believed that it was a punishment for saying bad or untrue things about others. They said that the Hebrew word Metzora is a contraction of the words motzi rah which means “one who spreads slander.” The “treatment” or punishment for the metzorah (the one afflicted with tzara’at ) was being outcast for a period of time. During this time of isolation, the metzorah could reflect on the damage done by his or her words. Once the condition had been cured, the metzorah then offered a sacrifice including two birds: one to slaughter and one to set free. Rashi says that God wanted the metzorah to sacrifice birds in order to remind the person about the sin of chattering like a bird. The Midrash Shocher Tov says “The damage done by evil talk is compared to the piercing, irreparable destruction of an arrow. Why is the tongue compared to an arrow? An arrow cannot be called back once it has been shot, even if the marksman wishes to do so. Just as the victim does not know about it until it actually reaches him, so the effects of evil talk are not felt until the arrows of a wicked person pierce him.”
A story is told of the Chofetz Chaim who readily agreed when another prominent rabbi requested his help with a communal matter in another city in Poland. In the course of their trip the two rabbis stopped at a roadside inn to partake of a meal. They were happy to eat at this establishment as a Jewish woman who was well respected for her high standards of kashrut ran it. The two rabbis were seated at a special table and accorded every mark of honor. After they had finished the meal the proprietress came to their table to inquire how they had enjoyed the food. The Chofetz Chaim smiled politely and replied: “It was very tasty, and I enjoyed it very much. Thank you.” The other rabbi answered: “The meal was very good, thank you. Only, if I might say, the soup might have used a bit more salt.” When the owner left the table the Chofetz Chaim turned to his companion, and in an anguished voice said: “Unbelievable! All my life I have avoided speaking or listening to
lashon hara and here I am, going on a trip to perform a mitzva, and I have been put into a situation of having to hear you speak lashon hara! I deeply regret my involvement in this mission, for it cannot be a true mitzva. If it were, such a terrible thing would never have happened to me!” The other rabbi was shocked and upset by the Chofetz Chaim’s reaction. To him it seemed to be a perfectly innocent remark. “What was so terrible about my comment? I only mentioned that a little salt would help the food, which was otherwise very good.” The Chofetz Chaim began to explain himself. “You certainly don’t understand the power that words possess! Just see what a chain reaction your words have set off: I’m sure that the woman who owns the inn doesn’t do her own cooking; she probably employs some poor person to do it, maybe even a widow who depends upon this job for her living.
“Because of your thoughtless comment the employee will be reprimanded for not adding enough salt to the food. She will try to defend herself before replying that she certainly did put in enough salt, which will be a lie. Then the owner will accuse her of lying, since she will certainly take your word over that of the poor cook. This exchange will lead to an argument and the owner will, in her anger, fire the poor cook, who will then have no income with which to support herself and her family. The rabbi, who had listened closely to the Chofetz Chaim’s explanation, replied respectfully: “Reb Yisrael Meir, I simply can’t help but feel that you are overreacting to the whole incident. My few casual words couldn’t have created all that damage. I think that your scenario just isn’t realistic.” The Chofetz Chaim rose from his seat, still in an agitated state, and said: “If you don’t believe me, then follow me into the kitchen and you will see with your own eyes what has happened!” The two rabbis quietly entered the kitchen, and a sorry sight met their eyes. The proprietress was standing before an elderly woman and giving her a sharp tongue-lashing; while the woman stood there with tears streaming down her face. The shocked rabbi ran up to the cook and begged her to forgive him for all the pain she was suffering. He then turned to the owner of the inn and pleaded with her to forgive him and to forget that he had ever made a comment. He had never intended that it be taken so seriously. The proprietress of the inn, who was really a kind person by nature, had never actually intended to dismiss her elderly employee and was happy to accede to the rabbi’s request. She explained that she had merely wanted to impress upon the cook her responsibility to be more careful in the future. She assured the rabbi that the woman’s job was secured and he had no grounds for worry. The rabbi turned to the Chofetz Chaim with an understanding look. He had certainly acquired a new profound respect for the awesome power of words.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
