Metzora: Separation and Return

Rabbanit Dr. Ágnes Veto, "Our Bodies Connect Us to Each Other and to Hashem," https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/339615.5?lang=bi&with=all&lang2=en

Significantly, the impurity in this case is not related to any moral imperfection. The reason for which one should avoid Hashem’s presence in these cases seems to be a deep incompatibility: some experiences are all-consuming and cannot be or should not be reduced by the proximity of another all-consuming experience.

It seems natural that an encounter with Hashem, an encounter with death, or a sexual encounter would all fall into this category of all-consuming experience. In order to ensure that our unique encounter with Hashem is not compromised by the memory or impact of these two other uniquely powerful encounters involving death or the initiation of life (reproduction), encounters with death or with the initiation of life alike have to be contained and marked by a visible marker. That marker is the status of “ritual impurity,” which might seem a parallel to, but is not cognate with moral impurity. .

Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin, "JPS B'nai Mitzvah Torah Commentary," pg. 129

The priest's role is not only to deal with ritual. Biblical Judaism had a very big sense of the priestly role. It was not only to offer sacrifices, but also to pay attention to the health of the Israelites and be part of the healing process for those who were ill. People with tzara'at were removed from the community (probably because of the fear of contagion), but they had to be accepted back in when they were healed.

Jacob Milgrom, "Leviticus," pg. 135-136

[T]he entire purification process is nothing but a symbolic ritual, a rite of passage, marking the transition from death to life. As the celebrate move from the real of impurity outside the camp, and are first restored to their community, then to their home, and finally to their sanctuary, they have passed from impurity to holiness, from death to life. In so moving, they are reinstated with their families and reconciled with their God.

The power of the blood, the symbol of life, was abetted by the addition of two red ingredients, the crimson yarn and the cedar wood, in order to counter and reverse the death process, vividly and visually represented by the deterioration of the body stricken with scale disease [...] The waters are called "living" because they flow perpetually and do not cease, like the living being whose movements never cease [...] The blood of the slain bird absorbed the disease from the patient and transfers it to the water. The live bird reabsorbed the disease when it is dipped into the water and transports it into the open country [whence the impurity cannot return].

Robin Weintraub, "Tazria, Metzora, and Talking about Mikveh," https://www.mayyimhayyim.org/tazria-metzora-and-talking-about-mikveh/

Giving birth, brit milah, marital relations, and tzara’at – an ailment often translated as leprosy – are all discussed in [parashat Tazria and Metzora]. All these events touch upon life and death, in actuality or in potential. They also all culminate in immersion in water. The metzora could be a person afflicted with any illness – mental, physical, or spiritual – or not an illness at all, but rather a distance, such that the metzora is someone who is separated from the community by any kind of distance. We could learn from this story the importance of bringing back into the community those who have left for any reason, as well as the possibility of incorporating immersion in water into any recovery, return, reintegration.

In addition to immersion, the metzora’s return to the community also includes an elaborate ritual performed by the priest in which the priest dips hyssop in the blood of a bird and sprinkles it onto the metzora and later dabs the blood of a lamb onto the metzora’s ear, thumb, and big toe. What are we to make of this ritual, described at length and in detail, so strange to our postmodern sensibilities?

In the case of the woman who menstruates or gives birth and the metzora, blood leads the way to water. Rabbi Yosef Bechor Shor suggests that the menstrual blood that women monitor in observing niddah functions for them as covenantal blood, parallel to the blood of circumcision, while Ibn Ezra relates the ritual of the metzora to Passover through the hyssop dipped in blood: Moses commands the Israelites to dip hyssop in the blood of the Passover offering and paint it on their doorposts as a sign, so that when the angel of death comes to smite the Egyptian firstborn, the Israelite firstborn would be saved. In the case of Passover, too, blood leads to water – the Red Sea – and to covenant, the covenant between God and the Jewish people. Through water, the metzora returns to community, and the Israelites become a free people and find their way to Sinai.

Rabbi Marianne Novak, "The Metzora and Pesach: A Spiritual Connection," https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/339600.4?lang=bi&with=all&lang2=en

What Ramban (via Ibn Ezra) is saying is that in the same way that the Jews in Egypt used the Hyssop plant as the brush to paint the blood on the doorposts (which theoretically could have been cedar—a strong wood used for structures) to keep death from their homes, so too the metzora does the same thing to keep death at bay.

That of course begs the question- what death is the metzora being purified or redeemed from? There is somewhat of a consensus among the Sages that the metzora suffers a kind of spiritual death in that he becomes ta’meh (spiritually impure) and needs to leave the community. But, as Rabbi David Fohrman of Aleph Beta notes, after a period of seven days, the metzora experiences a rebirth and can rejoin the community. The Passover holiday lasts seven days as well, and with it we commemorate the time when we emerged as a community, as a nation.

Devorah Weisberg, "Reaching Out To The isolated," http://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/reaching-out-to-the-isolated/

The metzora, as a result of contracting a disfiguring disease, has been exiled from the community. While this precaution may have risen from the desire to prevent the spread of a contagious disease, it undoubtedly left the metzora feeling emotionally, as well as physically, alone.

Cured of [their] illness, the metzora is now permitted to rejoin the community, but the period of isolation may have left [them] angry and withdrawn. The priest goes out to meet the metzora in part to draw [them] back into the community. Reentering the community is a gradual process, reflecting the difficulty the metzora experiences reconnecting with other human beings.

Our communities include individuals who for one reason or another feel isolated. We cannot ignore these people or contribute to their feelings of estrangement. Fear of their afflictions is no excuse for causing them further pain. Just as the priest goes out to meet the metzora, so too we must reach out to those in our midst who have been excluded, drawing them back into a caring community.

Rabbi Shefa Gold, "Metzora," https://www.rabbishefagold.com/tazria-metzora/

There are many times in life when it may be necessary to seclude oneself for a time. Tzara’at, which is usually translated as “leprosy,” can be understood as a difficult inner psycho-spiritual passage that manifests as a disturbance on the surface. Someone with this condition needs to separate himself from the community for a time in order to pay close attention to those inner changes, which are the causes of the outer confusion. At a time of inner growth, it might feel like your life has become too small. There is a chafing or an irritability, and it is time to ‘leave the camp.’ It is time to go on a retreat.

The blessing of Metzora comes to us as the force of re-integration, symbolized by the priest, as it reaches out to you in your place of alienation, recognizes your transformation and brings you back to the community. In the ritual of re-entry, two birds are brought. One is killed, to symbolize the old self that has died; and one is set free in the open country to express the re-born self flying free into an expanded life.