Parashat Tazria
The Leprosy Of
Irresponsible Speech
Learning to
control our speech will enable us to transform the world into a community that
respects the shared humanity of all people.
By Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson
The following article is reprinted with permission from University of Judaism.
With this week’s Torah portion, we learn a great deal about the ritual
function of the kohanim (priests) in helping people cope with infectious
illness. Particularly the illness of 'tzara'at,' leprosy, becomes the
focus of sustained attention, presumably because it was quite common in the
ancient Near East.
Basing themselves on a story found in the Book of Numbers, the Rabbis of
the Midrash viewed leprosy as an external sign of an internal decay. Illness
became a symbol for corruption, immorality and callousness.
The link between illness and a lack of ethics arises from the story of
Miriam's criticism of Moses' wife for being a Cushite. Clearly, Miriam uses her
sister-in-law's ethnicity as a pretext for attacking her brother. Whereas
Jewish tradition goes so far in rejecting racism that the Rabbis of the Midrash
and Talmud justify Moses' selection of an African woman as his wife, Miriam is
unable to restrain her harmful comments and her corrosive bigotry.
In a condemnation that neatly parallels Miriam's criticism that Moses' wife
is too black, Miriam is stricken with an illness that leaves her skin a flaky
white. Since her 'tzara'at' resulted from her critical words, the Rabbis
naturally associated the two.
Thus, the biblical laws on infectious disease became an extended metaphor
for self-centeredness, critical or slanderous speech, and hateful deeds.
Midrash Vayikra understands the law of leprosy as an allusion to seven
traits the Lord hates: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent
blood, a heart that devises wicked thoughts, feet that run eagerly toward evil,
a false witness and one who sows discord among people. How many of these
violations pertain to an irresponsible use of language!
Speaking and thinking ill of another person, construing their actions in
the worst possible way, gossiping and spreading rumors which harm the
reputation of another person--these activities are so widespread among our
contemporaries that they no longer attract our notice at all. Yet they strike
at the core of the kind of world Judaism is trying to establish. Those
practices provoke a cynical disregard of human decency; they cultivate our
suspicion of each other and our assumption that others are speaking ill of us
behind our backs just as we are of them.
In Hebrew, such speech is called 'lashon hara' (literally, "an
evil tongue"). 'Lashon hara' is the practice of speaking about other
people, rather than speaking to them. It involves transforming a living,
complex human being into a caricature--an object of evil, or sloth, or
competition. In speaking ill of others, we participate in their dehumanization,
initiating a process whose end is uncontainable.
In the words of the Rabbis, "A loose tongue is like an arrow. Once it
is shot, there is no holding it back." The Midrash notes that five times,
the word "Torah," teaching, is used to refer to 'tzara'at.' From this
superfluous repetition, the sages derive that "one who utters evil reports
is considered in violation of the entire five books of the Torah."
A marvelous tale is told of a wandering merchant who came into a town
square, offering to sell the elixir of life. Of course, large crowds would
surround him, each person eager to purchase eternal youth. When pressed, the
merchant would bring out the Book of Psalms, and show them the verse "Who
desires life? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from guile."
In an age awash in corrosive mistrust, a lack of confidence in our public
leaders, and an alienating sense of loneliness and isolation, there is little
hope of establishing real community until we learn to speak a new language--one
of responsibility, kindness and compassion.
Rather than spreading rumors to make others look bad, we can devise
empathic explanations for why someone might have acted in a disappointing way.
Rather than repeating a racist joke, we can focus attention on the shared
humanity of all people. Rather than speaking about other people, we can speak
to them, out of love and a desire to live in a shared community together.
By learning to channel and control our speech, we will transform our world
from one of isolation and cynicism to one of community and trust. Isn't that
what the rule of God is all about?
Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson is the Dean of the Ziegler
School of Rabbinic Studies at the University of Judaism in Los Angeles. He is
the author of The Bedside Torah: Wisdom, Dreams, & Visions (McGraw Hill).
For a free subscription to his weekly email Torah commentary, please send an
email request to bartson@uj.edu.