I was asked to give a D’var Torah (sermon) at Tikvat Israel this morning, during the month that our rabbi is away in Israel, volunteering in aid of that country in this time of war and struggle. You can read Rabbi Marc Israel’s reflections on his trip here.

I don’t usually write out speeches ahead of time, preferring to have a rough outline or just a few notes, but I wanted this to be within the allotted time (10 minutes), and also I somehow felt an obligation to have this one prepared better. Maybe because I’ve fallen short in my preparations for chanting torah portions and leading prayers in recent months.

So, because I did prepare ahead of time, I can share it here. I’d love to get your reactions…

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Gee – I wonder why Rabbi Israel asked me to give this dvar?

We all just lived through the COVID pandemic, and it was frightening. It was indiscriminate – everyone was at risk, and while some people might have great likelihood of worse outcomes, the virus ran rampant through the population and through the world.

When we were in the middle of it, it seemed like the world had changed forever. We were doomed to wear masks on our faces forever, our kids would learn remotely on screens and never learn to socialize, our celebrations were held on Zoom, we couldn’t visit our elders and hug or comfort them.

But now, more than 4 years after the first cases were reported in the US, we are slowly returning to the way life was pre-pandemic. Yes, some folks still wear masks, and for good reason. It makes sense to wear a mask if you have a respiratory infection, to protect those around you (although it’s even better to stay home, and rest). And many people are taking immunosuppressive medications, or have underlying conditions that render them susceptible to worse outcomes if they become ill with any viral respiratory illness, or are caregivers for others, so wearing a mask is a good idea. No judgement.

An illness that strikes everyone doesn’t seem like a judgement, but other illnesses do. And we do judge.

Tazria offers a context for a long history of viewing illness as a sign of sinfulness. Let’s take a look.

Some further information about leprosy:

Nachmanides said: This is not a natural, earthly phenomenon, just as in the case of house leprosy; rather, when Israel is one with God, God’s spirit is always upon them to keep their bodies and their garments and houses appearing good. But when one of them sins or transgresses, an ugliness appears in his body or his garment or his house to show that God has left him.

And in our Chumash Etz Hayim: In biblical Israel, the kohen was both the religious and the medical authority. The biblical mind saw the connection between the physical and the spiritual dimensions of illness and recovery (perhaps more clearly than we see it today).

So, tzara’at lesions described differ from our experience with COVID in some important ways – maybe the most important being that COVID affected all of us, but secondly, that tzara’at had physical outward signs. Tzara’at – whatever it was – clearly affected a subset of the population, and that sets it up as a marker of distinguishing good from bad, clean from unclean, pure from impure, etc.

We have seen that in other disease contexts, most notably, with the initial recognition of HIV/AIDS, and the spread of that disease. If you recall, HIV-infection started as GRID or AIDS, first identified in homosexuals in NYC and SF and Paris, France, and shortly thereafter being seen in LA and Miami, London, and other large urban centers. Some folks talked about quarantining those who became ill, as a way of controlling the spread of disease – sounds a little like the solution used in our parashah.  Separate…isolate.

Within a few years, it was recognized that, in addition to homosexual activity, heroin use, having hemophilia and being Haitian (the four H’s) were associated with risk of acquiring AIDS.

Think about that list:

• homosexual
• heroin user
• hemophiliac
• Haitian

What is your internal picture with each descriptor?  What emotion do you carry? Admit it…did you have a slight sense of sadness or increased empathy with the mention of a hemophiliac? Did a small voice in your head say “They don’t deserve to get HIV”?

Some reflections that I have heard from patients show how they internalize that their HIV infection is a punishment from God:

“I can’t have a relationship with anyone, I don’t deserve to be in a relationship with anyone, because that’s how I got infected. And I don’t want to infect anyone else.”

“I thought I wouldn’t get infected as long as I didn’t have sex with anyone over 40! I figured that I could tell by looking if they had HIV.”

“I deserved to get this infection. It’s a punishment.”

In our parashah, the disease is evaluated by the priest, who declares that the disease is present, and then the afflicted person makes the declaration, and separates themself from the community.  There is a protocol for waiting a specified number of days, after which the priest checks the skin, and the clothing, and decides when the person is no longer affected or impure, and can return to the community.

In our modern medical practice, we similarly monitor patients.  We measure viral levels in body fluids, and we can tell our patients when they are no longer a threat to the community.  In the HIV-infected population, we have been able to enable our patients to live essentially normal lives, and I have taken care of many patients through pregnancies with the outcome of healthy babies born who are not infected with HIV.  As a care provider to people living with HIV, one of my primary goals for my patients has been to allow them to live their lives as normally as possible, with the expectation that they can achieve their life goals, and have the same life expectancy they would have had without becoming infected with HIV.

Recently, there has been research published based on the hypothesis that acquisition of HIV may result in equalization of access to health care benefits between patient populations that otherwise would have disparate access (ie Black and Hispanics vs Whites).  One study looked at death rates among hospitalized patients in people living with HIV from 2002 to 2014 and found that while overall mortality declined, black-white disparity persisted, albeit to a lesser extent than in the general population.  These disparities were greatest in the Southern states of the US.

In Tazria, the scaly affliction serves to mark those who have sinned, and they are purified by being separated from the community.  Isolation is purifying. In our modern times, illness – whether it is HIV, or COVID, or cancer – is inherently isolating, and the isolation magnifies the disease, it does not cure it.  And illness, in Biblical times as well as now, separates us just when we need our community the most.

Shabbat Shalom.