Parashat Tazria
A Gay
Perspective On Punishment And Disease
Understanding
God’s presence in disease means viewing illness not as a punishment, but as an
opportunity to treat others as created in the image of God.
By Rabbi Roderick Young
The following article is reprinted with permission from SocialAction.com.
Every
June, as thousands of people march down New York's Fifth Avenue to celebrate
Gay Pride, four or five individuals stand on the sidewalk proclaiming that AIDS
is a punishment from God. Sometimes, a few of them are Jews, and I always
wonder what kind of God they think would use disease as a punishment.
During
festival days, one way in which our liturgy seeks to describe God is by taking
a part of Exodus 34: 6-7 and inserting it into the Torah service: "Adonai,
Adonai, God merciful and compassionate, slow to anger, and abounding in
kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to a thousand generations,
forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin, and granting pardon."
The end
of verse 7, which tells how the sins of the parents are visited upon the
children, is deliberately omitted.The message of the liturgy is
clear--as Jews we must seek out the compassionate side of God and not the
punitive one. Ours is not a God who gives people polio, cancer, or AIDS as
punishment.
And yet
at first glance this week's portion, Tazria ("she gives
birth"), might seem to suggest just such a vindictive God. Tazria is
largely concerned with discovering and interpreting marks upon the skin (tzara'at).
The exact meaning of this word is unclear; traditionally it has been translated
as "leprosy," although it probably included many different skin
conditions.
Parshat
Tazria tells us that the person suffering from tzara'at had to leave the
encampment and go into isolation, until a priest had decided that she or he
might return. This is not because the Israelites knew tzara'at to be
contagious, but rather because they believed it to be an impurity that was a
sign of God's anger, and such impurity had no place within the encampment.
We know
that the Israelites believed tzara'at was caused by God, because it is
described in this portion as a nega, which specifically means a plague
sent by God as punishment. If we need proof, we can look back at Genesis 12:17,
where we find: "Adonai plagued (naga) Pharaoh with mighty plagues (n'ga'im)."
At the
end of Tazria, we discover that clothes may also suffer from tzara'at (mildew?)
and then in next week's portion we see that houses, too, may break out in
tzara'at (rising dampness?). So tzara'at is not just a disease: It can be a
building problem, a laundry crisis or a skin ailment. It is clear that the
Israelites thought of these specific outbreaks as a punishment from God.
Today we
understand that mildew and damp in houses and clothes are caused by atmospheric
conditions. And we know that leprosy is the quite specific result of a (now
curable) viral infection. Our scientific knowledge has allowed us to solve many
physical manifestations that were mysterious, and this knowledge means that we
can alleviate suffering, that we can work with God to better the world in which
we live.
But our
scientific knowledge does not absolve us from the challenge of trying to
understand how God speaks to us today through the descriptions of tzara'at in
the Torah. Our ancestors saw punishment at the heart of tzara'at--what might
lie at its heart for us?
Tzara'at
was interpreted by the Rabbis of the Talmud as being the manifestation of a
very particular sin. A person with tzara'at is called a metzora (usually
translated as "leper"). To the rabbinic ear, this sounded like the
words "motzi ra," ("bring about evil") which in the
phrase "motzi shaym ra" means "to spread slander about
someone." Tzara'at was therefore understood to be a specific warning
against gossip and slander.
The
rabbis show us how tzara'at can remain a powerful metaphor, in which we discern
the hand of God. With the rabbis looking over our shoulders, let's understand
tzara'at as a timeless warning against cruel and evil speech and action.
Those
who stand on the sidewalks of life and declare that AIDS and other diseases are
a punishment from God are the ones who exhibit true tzara'at. They are guilty
of slandering the ill and of slandering God.
It is
this tzara'at, this slander, that needs to be placed outside of the encampment;
[this slander] it is a plague which has no place within our communities. We are
all made b'tselem Elohim, in the image of God. We only do justice to
that image when we are merciful and compassionate, slow to anger, and abounding
in kindness.
God is
indeed present in AIDS, cancer, polio, in all diseases. For God is present in
the way in which we respond to illness in others. When we visit the sick, or
raise money to fight disease, then God is present. And when we are the ones who
are sick, perhaps we will discern the face of God in a doctor, a nurse, a
family member, a friend.
In Tony
Kushner's monumental play Angels in America, Louis, a young Jewish man
from New York, deserts his boyfriend, Prior, because Prior has developed AIDS.
Louis can not cope with the sight of the sores that are disfiguring his
partner's skin. Rather than caring for Prior, he runs away.
But
then, of course, he is rightly filled with guilt. He says to a mutual friend:
"I tripped on the subway steps and my glasses broke and I cut my forehead,
here, see, and now I can't see much and my forehead...its like the Mark of
Cain, stupid, right, but it won't heal and every morning I see it and I think,
Biblical things, Mark of Cain..."
Louis
feels that, as Cain was given a mark by God after he committed the first murder
in the Bible, it as if he too has been marked by God for running away. Of
course, God didn't put the mark on Louis; it's just a simple cut. But what is
best in Louis, his humanity, his love, responds to the sight of the wound.
Louis begins an inner healing and eventually he returns to Prior.
In that
sense, we can say that God worked through the mark upon his forehead. The
lesions on Prior's body are not tzara'at. The tzara'at resides within Louis,
and he finally has the courage to face it.
The
"angels" in the title of Kushner's play are ultimately those humans
who fight the terrible disease with dignity and those who work to end it.
Parshat Tazria is our wake-up call that we are not free to ignore disease just
because we are healthy.
Tazria
demands instead that we wage war against disease, and that we work for a cure.
We may not find that cure, but we must be part of the fight--in the words of
the ancient rabbinic text, "The Sayings of the Ancestors:" "It
is not up to you to finish the work, yet you are not free to avoid it."
Or as
Prior says in the final words of Kushner's magnificent play: "And I bless
you: More Life. The Great Work Begins."
Rabbi Roderick Young is the Assistant Rabbi at
Congregation Beth Simchat Torah, New York's synagogue serving the Gay, Lesbian,
Bisexual, and Transgender Community, our Friends and Families.