This week’s double parsha deals with ways in which a person becomes “unclean”. Whereas in many cultures these states would not require separation, within Torah law of Judaism they do. As sin separates us from Hashem, these states of uncleanness separate us from normal life of the community of Israel. Thus, this uncleanness should be understood as having great spiritual significance.

The first condition discussed is tzara’as. While this is translated as “leprosy”, this condition was not what is commonly known as the disease leprosy. Its diagnosis and cure did not conform to any medical or hygienic rule. Tzara’as was associated with a variety of sins: idolatry, immorality, murder, chilul Hashem (desecration of the Name of Heaven), blasphemy, robbing the public, conceit, acting in a capacity not permitted, acting miserly or begrudgingly, taking a vain oath, but most commonly lashon hara (speaking evil). It was a warning to repent. The person’s house or clothing might be effected before his body, as he was being warned about his behavior. The stricken person was separated from the community and had to call out “Unclean!” to any who might pass near him. Once he was cleansed of the ailment, he had to be declared clean by the priest, complete the stages of purification ritual, and present a guilt offering and a wave offering. Thus he was not only healed, but also forgiven of the spiritual transgression associated with the physical ailment.

We go through many types of sorrow in life, usually asking: “Why?” While it is easy for us to see blessings as coming from Hashem, it is much harder to accept that bad things, too, come from Heaven. In the case of the leper it is obvious that Hashem was bringing him to repentance. He was afflicting his body for the sake of his soul. The bad thing that came upon him was actually a kindness from Hashem, whose purpose was to draw him back. This is a principle that applies in our lives, as well. Everything comes from Hashem for a beneficial purpose.

We could be ill. A few years ago I had cancer. My sorrow was immense, as I struggled against the fear of the disease. I went through a lot of wondering what I had done to deserve it. That’s a normal feeling. It should cause us to examine our hearts. But ultimately it should cause us to cleave closer to Hashem as the Healer of all flesh, as the Giver of life. We walk through the valley of the shadow of death where only He can save us.

Maybe we lose a relationship, a friendship, or a marriage very dear to our hearts and cannot understand how in the world that rejection could happen. Sometimes we cannot let go and realize that the “no” we hear from the other person is actually coming from Hashem: “Let go! Move on!” Maybe our children turn away from the life we would hope for them. Maybe our parents hurt us somehow; maybe the old wounds are so deep we just cannot recover. Maybe we are cheated, or lied to, by someone we never would have imagined capable of such betrayal. There are many, many ways in which people in our lives may disappoint us and break our hearts. Sometimes the situations are very hard to accept. In those times we need to allow our hearts to understand that these things are from Heaven for some purpose, even if we cannot see it at all.

Sometimes a person we love is going through some trauma, and we are powerless to change it. When Miriam was stricken with leprosy for speaking against Moshe, Moshe himself pleaded for her. Yet Hashem said she would have to suffer it for seven days. How hard it must have been for him to see the sister who had watched over his basket in the Nile, who had quickly volunteered his own mother to nurse him, who had been known as a prophetess even as a child, be humiliated and cast out of the camp! Moshe tended her with great compassion through that week. He could not change the situation, but he determined that she would not go through it alone. Midrash says that even after the seven days she had a hard time recovering from the ordeal, and her husband, Kalev, further tended her. He saw the great woman he had married crumble and fall. She went through a tremendously dark trial that shook all those around her. Yet those closest to her continued in love for her, moved in alongside her with compassion, and lifted her when she did not have the strength to stand on her own. The woman who had always been a leading strength for others, needed them to rise to the occasion of her need. And that, too, came from Hashem as an opportunity for them to give to her.

We have to go through a process with our pains and sorrows. It is okay to ask “Why?”, to say (cry or scream) that we do not understand. We need to ask; we need to find out what Hashem is doing in us with these things, in order to go all the way through them to the end. We need to be willing to surrender to His work in us so that it may eventually develop into its fullness. Sometimes we are simply unwilling to hear the correction, to understand that it IS His voice, and to conform our will to His. But the first thing is to see that these things ARE from Him. Before anything else, it is a test of faith.

When we go through suffering, we have a choice. In the beginning it is very normal to cry, to feel the depths of the pain. We should do this. We should experience it rather than deny it. However, we should also recognize that we have a choice. We can remain in the depths of negative feelings, or we can lift them in teshuvah and prayer. Our tears can become prayers, if we will it. We can sing through the sobs and dance with our broken hearts. It is a matter of choosing to act in faith in Hashem’s loving care for us. If we have the strength to lift our sorrows, He will meet us and lift us up into His joy. Joy, as opposed to happiness, is not conditioned on earthly circumstances, but rather flows in our relationship with Hashem. It is a product of living and walking in true faith and trust in His care. But we have to be willing to make the choice to look to Him rather than focusing solely on our pain. Pain is a circumstance of this world; and like this world, it is temporal. At Hashem’s Throne there is no sorrow; there are no tears; there is only sheer joy, because in that place is certain knowledge of Hashem’s power and love. Only in Hashem is there hope. Only in Hashem is there healing of all the things that ail us.

Hashem, Avinu Malkenu,
You have said that You count our tears
and collect them into a bottle.
Please, accept our tearful, broken hearts as sacrifices.
You are our Healer;
please, heal our brokenness;
cure our incurable wound, as only You can.
You have said that You will walk with us
through the vale of tears.
Please, let us feel Your presence there.
Please, strengthen our faith so we can lift our voices in song,
even if it has to begin as sobs,
and let us rise up to the joy that only comes from Heaven.
Thank You for Your love and for everything,
good and bad,
that draws us closer to You.
Please, hold us close
and dance with us in the world as
the sweetest,
the most beautiful,
dear lover of our souls.

Shabbat shalom,
Miriam