Yom Kippur 5775 – Cleansing The Mishkan, Cleansing Our Lives

לְטַהֵר אֶתְכֶם מִכֹּל חַטֹּאתֵיכֶם לִפְנֵי יְ׳הוָה תִּטְהָרוּ

The sixteenth chapter of Sefer Vayikra describes the details[1] of the Kohen HaGadol’s ritual service in the Mishkan/Mikdash for Yom HaKippurim. The Kohen HaGadol goes back and forth, changing out of various sets of clothing, slaughtering certain animals, and using those animals’ blood to purify the Mikdash/Mishkan. The purpose of all of these rites is explicitly described in Vayikra 16:32-34.

32 And the priest, who shall be anointed and who shall be consecrated to be priest in his father’s stead, shall perform the cleansing (כפר), and shall put on the linen garments, the holy garments. 33 And he shall cleanse (כפר) the most holy place, and he shall cleanse (כפר) the tent of meeting and the altar; and he shall cleanse (כפר) the priests and all the people of the assembly. 34 And this shall be an everlasting statute for you, to cleanse (כפר) the children of Israel of all their sins once a year.’ And he did as the LORD commanded Moses.

The purpose of the rituals of Yom Kippur is to cleanse the Nation of Israel and the Mikdash from the Impurity that their sins have caused. While it seems intuitive that Bnei Yisrael would need to be cleansed from their sins, it seems rather arbitrary and strange that the Mikdash and the Altar therein would need to be cleansed from the transgressions of Bnei Yisrael. How are the two connected? Answering this question requires delving into the cultural and historical context of Israel’s Impurity laws in general[2], and the Yom HaKippurim rituals in specific, which reveals the incredible power and importance they attribute to the actions of Bnei Yisrael.

The entering of the Kohen HaGadol to the holy of holies on Yom HaKippurim is closely paralleled by the entrance of the King of Babylonia to the Temple of Marduk on the fifth day of Akitu, accompanied by the high priest[3]. However, as with other such parallels, what is striking is not the large amount of similarities but the differences between the two sets of rituals. The most important difference in these specific rituals is who the rituals are focused on. Once inside the temple, the King would declare, “I have not sinned, O Lord of the universe, and I have not neglected your heavenly might.” The focus is entirely on the King and things he might have done. In stark contrast, the rites of Yom Kippur focus on the people themselves. “And he shall cleanse the priests and all the people of the assembly. And this shall be an everlasting statute for you, to cleanse the children of Israel of all their sins once a year” (Vayikra 16:33b-34a). Where the only person really valued by the Babylonian ritual is the King, the Yom HaKippurim service makes it clear that every member of Bnei Yisrael is important, and thus each and every Israelite must be purified.

Above and beyond the specific rituals of Yom HaKippurim, there are important contrasts between the whole system of Impurity Laws as found in the Torah and those from the surrounding cultures[4]. The various cultures of the Ancient Near East were full of such impurity laws, and they all shared a common purpose of fighting the demonic. In their mythologies, the gods were in constant struggle with demons, who drew their power from Impurity. Therefore any source of impurity, whether a corpse or a body emission or loose hairs and fingernails, aided the demons in their fight against the gods. It was for this reason that impure people were not allowed access to the temple, popularly thought of as the living space of the god, for fear that they would cause impurity therein and make the god of that temple vulnerable to the demons. In a case of a large build-up of Impurity in a temple, the god of that temple could even be driven away, forced out of their own abode. The yearly purification-rituals were intended to cleanse the temple of any impurities that might have developed anyway, and thus strengthen the god.

The Israelite conception of Impurity deviates strongly from this. Instead of focusing on the demonic, the Torah’s purity laws express the great tension between Life and Death, with Impurity resulting from events and processes associated with Death[5]. The most obvious example of this is Tsara’at, which, in addition to being a debilitating disease, causes the afflicted to resemble a corpse. Hence, when Miriam is afflicted with Tsara’at,  Aharon pleads, “Let her not be like a corpse” (Bamidbar 12:12). The Torah sees impurity not as empowering some mythological demonic force, but as an expression of the profound tension between Life and Death. Thus when someone or something is impure and cannot enter the Mikdash, this is a function of sensitivity to the great value of Life.

The laws of Tumah and Taharah, Impurity and Purity, are part of the Torah’s larger emphasis on Life, as seen in the command to the nation to “Choose Life” (Devarim 30:19). Throughout Sefer Devarim there is a profound emphasis placed on the value of Life and on Life as a goal of keeping the Torah. It is due to this emphasis that deliberate transgressions of the Torah create impurity that can be cleansed only by the rituals of Yom HaKippurim[6]. Intentional violations of the covenant between Bnei Yisrael and ‘א create impurity that affects the Mishkan so dramatically that it has to have a special ceremony to remove it, rather than being removed by normal atonement processes.

Where the various cultures of the Ancient Near East saw their gods as threatened by demons, the Torah says that ‘א’s presence is impinged upon by Death, and Man’s hand it it. When we break away from the Torah, we break away from a life-affirming covenant with ‘א, and we push away the presence of the Living God. It is reminiscent of an aphorism of the Kotzker Rebbe. “Where is God? Wherever you let him in.” The Yom HaKippurim rites in the Mikdash reaffirm ‘א’s desire to live amongst His People Israel. However they also make it clear that ‘א has made His being present dependent upon us. We no longer have the Bet HaMikdash, or the Mishkan, but the same is true in our own lives. When we affirm ‘א’s Torah, and when we embrace Life, we invite ‘א into our lives. But when we break away from the Torah we push Him away. Yom HaKippurim is a time when ‘א re-enters our lives, expecting us to have done our part to invite him back in. Throughout the liturgy of Yom HaKippurim, ‘א forgives us even before we do Teshuvah[7]. He returns to us, it is up to us to empty ourselves of the things we have done wrong, and to return to Him.

[1] A step-by-step, in depth, detailing of the ritual is recorded in the mishnayot of Masekhet Yoma.

[2] For those uncomfortable taking such an approach to understanding the mitsvot, I would point out that Rambam applied this approach rather liberally in Moreh Nevukhim, and I would add that archaeology has shown Rambam to be rather correct in doing so.

[3] A little bit on this parallel can be found in this less than excellent Ha’Aretz article. For a  more comprehensive  discussion with far better analysis, see the introduction to J. Milgrom’s commentary on Sefer Vayikra.

[4] For more, see J. Milgrom, “The Rationale for Biblical Impurity.” Additionally, see the introduction to J. Milgrom’s commentary on Sefer Vayikra.

[5] Ibid.

[6] The Jewish Study Bible, Vayikra 16:1-34n.

[7] R’ Amnon Bazak.

No Fear Biblical Criticism – Part 2: Critical Approaches and the Documentary Hypothesis

No Fear Biblical Criticism – Part 2

Critical Approaches and the Documentary Hypothesis

 (For Part 1: Introduction, see here)

Perhaps the biggest issue people face when approaching Biblical Criticism is their misconceptions about what it really is. When most people hear the words “Biblical Criticism” they immediately think of the Documentary Hypothesis, but, ultimately, the Documentary Hypothesis (henceforth ‘DH’) is only a small portion of the vast tapestry that is Biblical Criticism. In truth, Biblical Criticism is such a broad field that the best definition might be “Academic Approaches to the Bible.” What this means is that Biblical Criticism (henceforth ‘BC’) includes lots of different approaches with lots of different interests. Some of these approaches, like Form Criticism and Source Criticism, parent category of DH, are solely an attempt to determine what sources the human authors of the Tanakh used to compose the texts we see before us today. Such an approach is obviously anathema to a religious believer dedicated to the idea of a purely divine text. However, BC also includes Literary Criticism, which might be thought of as “the study of the Bible as Literature.” While that same religious believer might take offense at calling the Torah as “Literature,” they presumably would not disagree with the literary critic about the incredible beauty and complexity of the Torah text, or the significance of every word. However, the picture I’ve just painted is not helpful to the average person’s encounter with BC. Instead of “just DH”, I’ve now given them “DH + all this other stuff.” With that in mind, I will attempt to begin to explain a few of these different approaches, as well as how they relate to each other and the religious believer. While some approaches, like Archaeology or Patternism, will have to wait for a later section, DH will be given primary placement in this segment, as it is both the most famous part of BC, and possibly the most challenging to the religious believer.

The Documentary Hypothesis is the culmination of hundreds of years of Biblical Scholarship, starting from the first medieval scholars that ever questioned the Mosaic Authorship of the Torah[1]. It’s first fully realized manifestation was the work of Julius Wellhausen. Wellhausen was the first to not only create a full picture of which parts of the Torah were assigned to which source, but also when in the history of the Israelites the different sources had been written. He broke the text down into four basic sources, (J)awhist, (E)lokist, (P)riestly & (D)ueteronomist, and a (R)edactor who put them all together. Historically, these sources had been broken up based on the different names they used to refer to ‘א, repetitive or contradictory stories, and writing styles. Wellhausen was the first to take these sources and figure out where they might fit historically. He placed the writing of J & E the time of the split kingdoms of Judah and Israel, with J being written in Judah and E being written in Israel[2]. He placed the writing of D in the reign of King Yoshiyahu, and the writing of P in the time of Ezra, in the Second Temple Period. However, this last placement of P has long been recognized to be based not only on some faulty assumptions, but also on some underlying antisemitism, as P includes most of the ritual laws that people associate with Judaism. Thus many people eventually began to place P earlier, at which point it becomes a matter of much debate amongst Bible scholars. Some even split P into P and H, the Priestly Source and Holiness Code, and suggest that while one was written earlier, one as written very late[3]. This, writ large, is the basic concept of the Documentary Hypothesis. Each of these sources may have had it’s own development, it may have been written by a single person, or perhaps even a school of writers, but whatever that may have been, these were the sources the Redactor combined to make the text we today call the Torah.

While much of this was initially challenging to Orthodox Jewry, Rabbi Mordechai Breuer developed what is known in Hebrew as “Shitat HaBehinot,” “The Method of the Aspects,” which said that all of these different voices and styles that DH scholars had found were really there, but that they represented not different human authors but different aspects of the Divine Truth, which cannot be put simply into Human language without compromise or contradiction (B”H we will return to this in a later segment). However, the DH was to suffer lots of critique from within BC, not only from literary critics, but also from within Source Criticism itself. In recent decades, advancements in the study of ancient languages and how they changed over time, the way scribal copying really used to work, and the like, has changed the face of Source Criticism, to the point where a critic’s ability to really identify sources with a large degree of accuracy has been called into question[4]. Thus the whole practice of identifying source documents is considered by many Source Critics to be rather passé[5]. Further, harsh critiques have been leveled against Source Criticism in general, and DH in specific, by the rising trend of Literary Criticism, as will be discussed below. For now, it is safe to say that DH need not trouble the believer too much.

Source Criticism, to reiterate, is the attempt to uncover the different sources that were combined to create the text as we have it today. This is done by rather intensive dividing up of texts based on repetitions, contradictions, and supposed authorial styles. There is a similar approach called Form Criticism, which intends to find the original forms of these sources, the original written or oral compositions that developed into the narratives the of the biblical text as we know it. This is done by determining the beginning and end of each unit of the Torah text, and then attempting to determine what “genre” the unit would fall under (examples: kingship myth, victory song, folktale, etc.). Then this genre can be used to determine the meaning of the text, as well as it’s sitz en leben, the situation in the national life in which the text would have (example: a funeral, a coronation, a sacrificial procedure, etc.). However, much as Source Critics are forever arguing over the correct divisions of the Torah text, so too Form Critics argue about the beginning and ends of units in the text. Moreover, there is little agreement among Form Critics regarding the number of genres in Biblical Literature, or what exactly those genres might be. That these two fields struggle from an incredible amount of internal debate[6]. However, perhaps their greatest critiques have come from the field of Literary Criticism.

Literary Criticism is an approach that eschews the whole practice of searching for the origins of the biblical text, not because it’s difficult or impractical, but because such an approach cannot tell you what the text means. Literary Criticism says that regardless of whether the author of the Torah may have been using varied sources or not, the text was composed with great intent. Therefore the meaning of the text can be best assessed not by picking it apart, but by looking at it as a unitary text. In fact, such an approach says that even if the text is a combination of older sources, what matters is how they were put together, not what they were separately. Therefore, what appear to be seams uniting two texts will often unlock the greatness and meaning of the larger text[7]. This approach was developed by thinking of Tanakh not as scripture, but as literature, and thus subject to Literary Theory. This type of analysis originally suffered due to comparing Tanakh to various forms of literature, such as Homer or Shakespeare, where the comparison was totally artificial. However, as knowledge of the Ancient Near East and, more importantly, the field of Literary Theory[8] improved, Literary Criticism became an approach that truly appreciates the incredible nature of the text of Tanakh. It is from this literary vantage point that many critiques have been launched against Source Criticism and Form Criticism. One of the foundational concepts of Source Criticism is that a repetition means the combination of two sources. However, repetition often serves a purpose within a narrative, so assuming that it requires a combination of sources is far from necessary. An excellent example is pointed out by Professor Robert Alter in his seminal work, “The Art of the Biblical Narrative.” He points out that when Yosef reveals himself to his brothers (Bereishit 45), he says, “I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?,” then a verse later he repeats himself, “I am your brother Yosef whom you sold to Egypt.” Source critics split these two verses into two separate sources, but Alter argues that the repetition is obviously a function of the psychological and dramatic narrative, where the brothers are initially dumbfounded, and only after they draw closer and Yosef repeats himself, can they truly understand[9]. Professor Adele Berlin, in “Poetics and the Interpretation of the Biblical Narrative,” argues that many such repetitions also come from switches between various perspectives, not from multiple sources. In the same chapter[10] she compares Form Critical analysis of Tanakh with Form Critical analysis of the Epic of Gilgamesh, and shows that even in the case of the Epic of Gilgamesh where we have obvious and empirical development from primitive sources to more complex literary works, such development still cannot account for the literary complexity of the final composition. All the more so in the case of Tanakh, where there are no extant version of primitive sources, the text can really only be understood in terms of an author with full control over the text, not someone gingerly combining older sources. All in all, Literary Criticism is actually a realm of Biblical Criticism where the religious believer can feel fairly at home.

The first mistake in approach BC is believing that it is a monolithic entity. It is a large tapestry, and not all the different strands get along with one another. Moreover, even within each strand there is much disagreement. BC is not some big scary entity to be fear or adored, to be either entirely accepted or entirely rejected. Hopefully this segment has conveyed that one can examine BC critically, and see that we do not need to fear the elements we cannot accept, and perhaps also that there may be some element we will want to embrace.


(Onward to Part 3)


[1] Much of the information in this paragraph comes from Richard Elliot Friedman’s “Who Wrote the Bible?”, a clear and easy text explaining the development of DH, and one which a clear-headed believer should not haven much trouble with.

[2] This type of assignment is usually made on the assumption that the biblical authors would only have written things that would benefit themselves, and thus a source that talks about Hebron must be from the Kingdom of Judah, which was originally based in Hebron. Simply put, this assumption is one of several options, and not necessarily the preferred one, as people, particularly religious people, are often motivated by something other than personal gain.

[3] Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus, Yale Anchor Bible Commentary, Vol. 1, Introduction.

[4] For more on this, see Professor Alan Brill’s fantastic interviews with Professor David Carr and Professor Jacob Wright.

[5] This has also called into question some of R’ Breuer’s conclusions, and thus many religious academics have failed to embrace it. However, it should also be noted that this newer conception is largely based on the assumption that ancient Israelite society functioned just like the societies around it, something not necessarily conclusive.

[6] For more on the development of internal debates of Form Criticism, see Appendix II of Meir Weiss, “The Bible From Within”.

[7] This was the “Holistic Method” of Moshe Greenberg, which is wonderfully and masterfully demonstrated in his analysis of Yehezkal’s vision of Idolatry in the Bet HaMikdash in Yehezkal 8-11.

[8] For a survey of the development of Literary Criticism, including the literary-critical sides of Form Criticism, see the First Introduction to The Bible From Within.

[9] Robert Alter, “The Art of the Biblical Narrative”, Chapter 8, “Narration and Knowledge”.

[10] Her critiques can be found here.


Parashat Kedoshim 5774 – On Kedushah and the Separation of Nations

וָאַבְדִּל אֶתְכֶם מִן הָעַמִּים לִהְיוֹת לִי

Chapters 18-20 of Sefer Vayikra form one unit dealing with two very distinct subjects in three separate parts . Chapter 18 discusses the laws of forbidden sexual relationships, chapter 19 discusses a variety of laws related to Kedushah, and chapter 20 discusses both themes together. Through this unity, Rashi reasons that the definition of Kedushah[1] is separation from inappropriate sexual relations, a definition which fits clearly with the following juxtaposition:

You shall be holy: Separate (Root: פרש) yourselves from sexual immorality and from sin, for wherever one finds a barrier against sexual immorality, one finds holiness, [for example:], “[They (the kohanim) shall not take in marriage] a woman who is a prostitute or one who was profaned…I, the Lord, Who sanctifies you [am holy]” (Lev. 21:7-8); and, “he shall not profane his offspring…I am the Lord, Who sanctifies him” (Lev. 21:15); and, “They shall be holy…[They shall not take in marriage] a woman who is a prostitute or one who was profaned” (Lev. 21:6-7).[2]

However, a close study of the text involved demonstrates that this is just the beginning of a much larger picture.

There are many ways of determining the topic and unity of a passage in Tanakh. One of the key methods is through the use of keywords, words that are repeated several times. In chapters 18-21 we find four keywords, namely “laws” (root: חק), “rules” (root: שפט), “keep” (root: שמר), and “holy” (root: קדש). “Laws,” “Rules,” and “Holy” all show up ten times while “Keep” appears seven times[3], both numbers of biblical import, which highlights the thematic role of each of these ideas.

Another method of determining thematic importance is through parallels at the beginning and end of a unit, such a the parallel between 18:3-5 and 20:22-23:

3 You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, or of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you; nor shall you follow their laws. 4 My rules alone shall you observe, and faithfully follow My laws: I the Lord am your God. 5 You shall keep My laws and My rules, by the pursuit of which man shall live: I am the Lord.[4]

22 You shall faithfully observe all My laws and all My regulations, lest the land to which I bring you to settle in spew you out. 23 You shall not follow the practices of the nation that I am driving out before you. For it is because they did all these things that I abhorred them.

This parallel denotes the beginning and end of the section while also reinforcing the topic ideas of Laws and Rules. What is not seen to be a topic, however, is separation from sexual impropriety. Yet it is undeniably a large part of the passage. So what then can be said of the definition of Kedushah from this context?

While Separation (פרישות) is not found in this section at all, and certainly not attached to Kedushah, there is a very similar word that is used here in context of Kedushah. Vayikra 20:24-26 discusses the idea that Israel is “set apart” (root: בדל).

24 and said to you: You shall possess their land, for I will give it to you to possess, a land flowing with milk and honey. I the Lord am your God who has set you apart from other peoples. 25 So you shall set apart the clean beast from the unclean, the unclean bird from the clean. You shall not draw abomination upon yourselves through beast or bird or anything with which the ground is alive, which I have set apart for you to treat as unclean. 26 You shall be holy to Me, for I the Lord am holy, and I have set you apart from other peoples to be Mine.

Thus Kedushah is not simply about Separation, but about being distinguished and set apart.

A perfect demonstration of this is found in the law of shaatnez, found in Vayikra 19:19[5]:

“You shall observe My laws. You shall not let your cattle mate with a different kind; you shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed; you shall not put on cloth from a mixture of two kinds of material.”

This law is generally interpreted as a symbolic law meant to teach man about the importance of separating between distinct realms. It is often taken as being directed against disorder[6] or intermarriage[7]. However, the assumption that shaatnez is inherently problematic, if only on a symbolic level, is hard to maintain once one takes a look at the broader context of the Torah. Due to the fact that shaatnez is only ever mentioned by name in regards to the prohibition of wearing it, many people miss its earlier appearances in the torah. It appears in Sefer Shemot, in 26:1, “As for the Tabernacle, make it of ten strips of cloth; make these of fine twisted linen, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, with a design of cherubim worked into them,” 26:31, “You shall make a curtain of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and fine twisted linen; it shall have a design of cherubim worked into it,” 28:6, “They shall make the ephod of gold, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and of fine twisted linen, worked into designs.,” 28:15, “You shall make a breastpiece of decision/ worked into a design; make it in the style of the ephod: make it of gold, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and of fine twisted linen,” and 39:29, “and sashes of fine twisted linen, blue, purple, and crimson yarns, done in embroidery- as the Lord had commanded Moses,” among others. These verses all refer to the materials of the Mishkan and the garments of the Kohanim. All are composed of linen and colored wool[8]. Thus while shaatnez is forbidden to the average member of Bnei Yisrael, it is in fact mandatory for the Kohanim, and therefore it cannot be inherently bad. Furthermore, even for a normal citizen of Israel it is not entirely forbidden. Bamidbar 15:39, part of the original commandment regarding tzitzit, says that shaatnez is part of tzitzit. “Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner.” As with the colored wool of the Mishkan and the priestly garments, the colored string of the tzitzit is made of wool[9]. The inclusion of shaatnez, along with the otherwise priestly blue[10], is part of how tzitzit remind the wearer of their priestly purpose[11].

The commandment of shaatnez is not itself about two things that need to be kept separate, but about differentiating between two groups with different purposes, the Kohanim and the rest of Bnei Yisrael. Only in tzitzit, the mitzvah intended to remind Bnei Yisrael of their purpose as a “Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation” do they wear shaatnez. This is the integral message of the entire section, of Vayikra 18-21. The two ideas of this pericope, that of keeping the Laws/Rules of ‘א as opposed to the Laws of the Nations and that of Kedushah, are actually one. What makes Israel holy is that it is differentiated, and differentiates itself, from the other nations by its practices. However, much like shaatnez, it is not that either set of practices is necessarily good or bad. While the Torah clearly takes a negative stance towards those practices of the nations mentioned in Vayikra 18-21, what is important about them is not their moral quality, but that they are not the practices which ‘א has laid down for Israel to follow. Kedushah is about the fulfilment of purpose, on both the national and individual levels. It’s not just avoiding negative or foreign practices, but also the active fulfillment of the purpose and laws that ‘א laid down for Israel that makes Bnei Yisrael a “Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation.”

[1] Found in his comment on Vayikra 19:2.

[2] Translation of Rashi from Chabad.org.

[3] The root שמר also appears in the word “משמרתי” in 18:30, but this is grammatically different from the other 7 uses.

[4] Translations from the Jewish Study Bible.

[5] The ideas in this paragraph are owed to Jacob Milgrom in his article, “Law, Narrative, and the Exegesis of Leviticus 19”.

[6] B. Sanh. 60a; Ibn Ezra, Ramban, Bekhor Shor.

[7] Mikra KiPeshuto, A.B. Ehrlich.

[8] Talmud Bavli, Yevamot 4b, Yoma 71b.

[9] Ibid.

[10] See Shemot 28:31 and 39:22, in contrast to Bamidbar 15:39.

[11] Shemot 19:6.

Parashat Tazria 5774 – “And the Kohen Sees..”

וְרָאָה הַכֹּהֵן אֶת הַנֶּגַע

Parashat Tazria contains the procedural instructions for dealing with occurrences of Tsara’at[1]. The Torah’s description of Tsara’at is a malady that affects the skin with scaly lesions, but that’s about all that is made clear from the text. The symptoms don’t seem to match up with any known dermatological conditions in existence today[2]. This fact, far from being inconvenient, makes perfect sense in terms of the context in which Tsara’at appears in the Torah. Tsara’at in the Torah doesn’t show up in a section about the curing of ailments, rather in the context of Tumah and Taharah. The Torah is not concerned with the medical issue of Tsara’at, rather with the religious implications. The focus in the discussion of Tsara’at is not on the healing of the disease, but on the responsibilities of the Kohen.

The Kohen’s responsibility in a case of Tsara’at essentially amounts to confirming whether or not it is indeed Tsara’at. The blemish is shown to the Kohen and then the Kohen pronounces it Tsara’at or not, or isolates the person for a week or two until a determination can be made. When the Kohen pronounces it Tsara’at, the person becomes Taamei until their purification can be completed. If the Kohen determines that it is not Tsara’at then the person is Tahor. This seemingly simple process actually depicts one of the most unique characteristics of the Jewish religion.

In most ancient cultures, the priesthood was greatly involved in the medical issues of the community, much like the Kohanim and Tsara’at. However, in other religions the priests were involved in the actual healing process, as opposed to the Kohanim. The Kohanim simply examine the diseased area to determine if the blemish actually is Tsara’at. In other ancient religions the priests would recite incantations and perform rituals to cleanse and cure the affected area, something not found in Judaism. The Kohanim are, in fact, never involved in healing. In Tanakh, that job falls to the “man of god”, the prophet.

Prophets throughout Tanakh heal people from a variety of illnesses. Tsara’at itself is a disease often healed by a prophet[3]. In Bamidbar 12 Miriam is struck with Tsara’at as punishment for speaking ill of Moshe, and is only healed after Moshe prays for her. In Shemot 4:6-7, Moshe causes his hand to become afflicted with, and then healed of, Tsara’at. In II Kings 5, Na’aman is healed of Tsara’at by a procedure he is instructed to perform by the prophet Elisha. These are only some  of the biblical examples of prophets healing people. While both the prophet and the priest are men of God, only the “Man of God” is a healer.

While both serve the religious needs of the people, the Prophet and the Priest have very different roles. The priest is responsible for the continuing routines of the Jewish Religion, for the things that do not change in the service of ‘א. The prophet is a vehicle for change, a fiery response to an untenable norm. The prophet receives prophecy suddenly, while the priest is part of a chain of service starting before him and continuing after. The priest carries out and conveys the timeless will of ‘א that stretches through eternity. The prophet receives and relays the timely will of ‘א that is needed in that second.

This distinction is critical for understanding the assignment of the role of healer to the prophet rather than the priest. The occurrence and curing of Tsara’at is a function of the will of ‘א. While priests fulfill the will of ‘א in a general sense, they cannot compare to the prophets. The unique feature of Israelite prophecy is the status of the prophet as a “messenger  of ‘א”. Thus it is not really the prophet who does the healing, it is ‘א. The prophet merely conveys and out carries out His will.

Judaism today is much more a religion of priests than of prophets. We cannot hear ‘א’s timely will, what He thinks needs to be fixed on a day to day basis. Instead, we cling to the Will of ‘א as given in the Torah, we grab on to the Eternal Word. Instead of ‘א telling us what to do and when, we keep his Halakha and let it guide our lives. The Metsora, the person afflicted with tsara’at, does not go to the Prophet to ask why they have been afflicted; they go to the Kohen to ask what this means for their ability to approach ‘א. So too in the struggles of modern life. There are no prophets today to explain why things happen, and we ought not look for them. Instead, we should take time to examine who we have been, and see who we can be from this point forward.

 [1] This Devar Torah has been Influenced throughout by The Religion of Israel, Y. Kaufmann, and the Anchor Bible Commentary to Vayikra, J. Milgrom.

[2] The problem of identification is  two-fold: Firstly, the symptoms. Psoriasis is close, but it still doesn’t fit perfectly. Secondly, and more importantly, the treatment. There’s no such skin condition that would get noticeably better in just a week or two. (J. Milgrom, Chapter 13, Comment A)

[3] While these cases have been used to explain that Tsara’at is received for sins against Man or sins against God, most of them can really be read either way. (J. Milgrom, Ibid.)