Acceptance & Rejection

Our Torah portion seems to talk about skin diseases and bodily infections. It is hardly a redeeming topic to share with you. However, looking a little deeper into the reading we learn that our ancestors felt that these skin diseases were a sign that the inflicted had done something wrong, mostly, Lashon Hara, was a gossiper, and is considered cursed by God. One of the methods of “cure” was isolation. Rejecting a person from being with a community out of fear that he could “infect” the community also. This person would be isolated until the Kohen, priests, will examine the infected person or home with a special ritual and will declare him “pure” or clean of infection. That was the point at which the “infected” or “cursed” be able to rejoin the community.

Isolation or rejection is one of society's most powerful tools for regulating and restraining undesirable behavior. As children, we knew that misconduct carried the risk of a parental glare of disapproval, and perhaps banishment to our bedrooms. As adults, the rod of imprisonment hangs over would be criminals as a deterrent for all sorts of illegal behavior. 


But how effective is enforced isolation in preventing crime, and perhaps more importantly, invoking a feeling of regret in the offender? Psychologists and social researchers are reevaluating this age old method of dealing with crime. Banishment and imprisonment may remove the criminal from our midst, thereby limiting the risks to the rest of us from being “infected” by his wrong behavior.   

The Torah also has its proscribed system of isolation for certain offenses. [1]Tzaraat was a divinely ordained affliction that came upon an individual who was guilty of slanderous talk against his fellow man.[2] Upon being declared impure, the leper was sent out of all three camps[3] and kept completely secluded from the rest of society. His punishment corresponded to his crime. His slanderous talk resulted in friction and disunion between people; his penalty was enforced separation from the community.  

Yet, it is important to note the process whereby the leper was declared impure. One who discovers a suspicious spot on his skin must have it inspected by a learned scholar. If the sage determines that the spot does indeed have all the symptoms of tzaraat, he then presents it to the Kohen, who declares him impure. The Kohen may be completely ignorant of the details of the laws regarding tzaraat, yet the individual is not declared impure unless the Kohen pronounces him as such. Even if the Kohen merely echoes the decision of the learned scholar, it is his affirmation rather than the scholar's learned opinion that finalizes the person's status.

It is puzzling why the Torah places the declaration of impurity upon the Kohen. The Kohen, after all, was distinct in his special status of purity. The Kohen performed the most dignified and gracious tasks in the Holy Temple and was obligated to refrain from defiling himself through any contact with ritual impurity. Why must the Kohen be the one to declare him impure?

The Kohen's mandatory involvement sheds light on the Torah's view of societal isolation as a punishment and deterrent for wrongdoing. The Kohen's function aside from his service in the Temple was to serve as a conduit of blessings for the Jewish People. 

The Kohanim have maintained this role throughout Jewish history through their recital of the priestly blessing in the synagogue. Before starting the Priestly Blessing, the Kohanim recite a benediction concluding with the words: "Who has commanded us to bless the Jewish people, with love." At the beginning of the Torah Service, when we circle with the Torah, I greet each person in the synagogue.  When I get to the Kohanim, quietly I ask them if they are fit to bless us? If the Kohen feels that he is lacking in a measure of love for even one member of the community, he is obliged to step down and refrain from uttering the Priestly Blessing. Only the Kohen, known as a "man of kindness," has the authority to declare a person impure resulting in his banishment from the camp of the Jewish people.

The Kohen's pronouncement is based upon the opinion of the learned scholar well versed in the myriad laws of various skin conditions and their ritual status. Nevertheless, it is the Kohen who is given the final say over matters of impurity. The Kohen's heart overflowing with love for his fellow man will not allow him to make such a declaration lightly. 

Isolation and rejection are almost completely ineffective means of ameliorating criminal behavior when there is an absence of one critical ingredient: love. Once an individual feels cast out of his society, he loses his greatest source of motivation and encouragement to lead a wholesome and productive life. The Kohen is there to teach us that even when censuring and condemning improper behavior, we must never lose sight of our primary role which is to extend a helping and supporting hand to every member of society, no matter what his or her status may be. 

An individual who is able to utter a condemnation of another human being must carefully examine his or her own heart. Those who are lacking in love and compassion are incapable of coming to a true conclusion regarding another person's status. Instead, they will succeed only in driving others further away with their unrelenting critical attitudes. In fact, one who is not qualified to render someone "impure," and does so anyway because of bitterness and a heart full of condemnation is guilty of slander, the very offense that incurs the penalty of tzaraat. 

There is no telling how deeply we can impact and influence all of society when we keep our hearts open to all with kindness and compassion. The Kohen, a man of kindness, guides us in attaining this exalted level of sensitivity. It is this form of unconditional love that will obliterate the primary cause of isolation. 

 May God guide us next time we encounter a form of imperfection in another human being, not to turn away. In the manner of the Kohen, let us look beyond the external blemish into the soul. Our kind eye and loving heart will accomplish far more than our most severe isolation. These small acts of unity and acceptance have the power to change the landscape of society from a cold and vicious jungle to a place where peace, serenity, and harmony will reign. May it be so. Amen.

 A portion of this D’var Torah was taken from, “Rejection” by Chaya Shuchat.

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