Tazriah-Metzorah 5772

Regarding the requirement that a Nega Tzara’as must be seen by a Kohen, the Mishna (Negaim 2:5) states, “All Negaim one may see, except his own.” In our Aggadic literature, this Mishna is often cited in a figurative way: All faults one may see, except his own. This, of course, points to the fact that we see the shortcomings of others with great clarity; of our own we are oblivious. (See, for example, Ruach Chaim to Pirkei Avos 2:1 and Medrash Shmuel to Pirkei Avos 1:7.)

We may suggest that this is not simply a play on words; the Aggadic interpretation is actually the rationale for the legal ruling of this Mishna. Tzara’as is not simply a skin disease; it is a Divine sign of a sinful act or negative personality trait. (We are all familiar with the association of Tzara’as and Lashon Hara, but in fact Tzara’as can come as a consequence of other sins as well. See Erechin 16a.) If a person was to examine his own Tzara’as, he undoubtedly would give himself a favorable diagnosis as an unfavorable diagnosis would point to a flaw that he cannot bring himself to see.

To expand on this idea, we may observe that we often have a difficult time seeing ourselves even in a positive light. Why would this be? Certainly we have no problem noting our achievements and successes. Yet, we may have a problem noting our potentialities, especially when they have not been actualized. There is no greater flaw than unrealized potential. By denying this potential we spare ourselves of the pain of facing the fact that we squander it to our own detriment.

To overcome this blind spot, we may need the encouragement of others. The Mishna in this week’s Perek (Pirkei Avos 2:11) relates that Rabbi Yochanan ben Zackai would cite the praises of each of his main disciples. We should assume that this was not simple flattery. Rather, by pointing out their unique strengths, he was forcing them to face the reality of their own potential and rise to the challenge.

Conversely, we find that the 24,000 disciples of Rabbi Akiva died for the failure to honor one another (Yevamos 62b). The question has been asked: We know that one of the great teachings of Rabbi Akiva (Sifra, Parshas Kedoshim, Ch. 4 cited in Rashi Vayikra 19:18) is that the Mitzvah to love a fellow Jew is the most fundamental rule of the Torah. Undoubtedly, his disciples absorbed this teaching. If so, how is it possible that they mistreated one another?

The answer is that they did not mistreat one another. The certainly loved each other and would give the shirt off their backs to friends in need. But they did not honor one another. That is, they failed to acknowledge the unique characteristics of one another. (It is important to remember that we love those who are like ourselves; we honor those who are special in some way, possessing qualities that we ourselves lack.) Their sin was the failure to enable their colleagues to realize their own potential to the fullest by giving them the needed encouragement. For men who were destined to be the future teachers of Klal Yisrael, this was a fatal flaw.

Shemini 5772

The repsonse of Aharon to the tragic deaths of his sons, Nadav and Avihu, was silent acceptance of the Divine decree. For this, according to Chazal, he was rewarded. Rashi, relying on Midrashim, points to two components of this reward. First, Hashem personally taught Aharon the prohibition of wine-consumption for Kohanim performing the Temple service, rather than transmitting this rule through Moshe Rabbeinu (Rashi, Vayikra 10:3). Second, Aharon, along with his surviving sons Elazar and Isamar, was given the honor of teaching the laws of the kosher and non-kosher animals to the Jewish people (Rashi, Vayikra 11:2). Of course, Divine recognition is certainly a lofty reward. However, the question may still be asked: Why was this Divine recognition associated with these specific laws – the wine prohibition and the laws of Kosher animals?

When tragedy strikes there are really two different questions that the family and the friends of the victim can ask: 1. Why him? 2. Why me? In other words, when a person suffers a premature or painful death, those who were witnesses to that misfortune may question why that person “deserved” to die in such a terrible way. But that is only one half of the wonder. When a person is taken from this world, that person is actually not the only victim. His family, friends, community, and all who have any association with him also suffer from the loss. They may also question why they “deserved” to suffer.

In truth, the second question may be harder to answer than the first. In the instance where the death is a consequence of an identifiable sin, we know why the individual died; why his innocent loved ones experience the trauma remains a mystery. (By analogy, consider the case of an individual imprisoned for financial fraud. We may concede that he received his due, but how do we explain the pain that his wife and children experience?) Yet, the first question can still be troubling if the legitimacy or stringency of the law for which the victim was punished is not totally clear. (Again, by analogy, consider a person imprisoned for a technical violation of the tax laws of which the person himself may have been unaware.)

According to Chazal, Nadav and Avihu were guilty of drinking wine before engaging in their performance of the incense offering, and it was for this that they were so severely punished. One may have been tempted to ask whether such a seemingly minor infraction should call for such a harsh penalty. Aharon was not tempted. He accepted Hashem’s determination that this is in fact a capital offense and therefore he was given the honor of hearing the associated law from Hashem himself.

However, Aharon may still have questioned the Divine judgment. Granted that Nadav and Avihu committed a capital offence, but why should he suffer the loss of beloved sons? Why should Elazar and Isamar suffer the loss of beloved brothers? For that matter, why should the Jewish nation have suffered the loss of such lofty tzaddikim?

Of course, no one – other than the Ribbono Shel Olam – can fully answer this question, but we must be aware of an important factor: Consequences for our actions – the classical consideration of reward and punishment – are important considerations but not the only considerations in Hashem’s management of the world. Sometimes suffering is a test (nisayon). Sometimes suffering is the unavoidable side-effect of what must occur as part of the Divine plan for the world; those who suffer this seemingly “undeserved” pain will undoubtedly be compensated – either in this world or the next – in ways that will more than justify that pain.

This is analogous to the fact that the world has kosher and non-kosher animals. Certainly this is not because the ones are more deserving and the others less so. The Divine plan called for the existence of both types and the roles were assigned to the various species. The fairness cannot be questioned; Hashem, as the creator and master of all things, certainly has the prerogative to assign each to its appropriate station within His master plan.

The seemingly arbitrary distinction between those animals we may eat and those we may not could only be taught to the Jewish people by individuals who understand that the unfathomable is not arbitrary at all. Our inability to understand is not a critique of the Divine plan; there are simply some things that are beyond human grasp. The silent acceptance of the innocent, suffering survivors, Aharon, Elazar, and Isamar, qualifies them to be the teachers of these laws.