In this week’s Torah portion, Tazria-Metzora addresses ills such as bodily emissions and skin afflictions. According to Torah, the obligation of the affected person was to make himself known to the community. He called out, “Unclean! Unclean!” (Lev. 13:45). The metzora was isolated, feared, and repulsed. Later translators called the malady “leprosy” because lepers were treated similarly, long before it was better-known as Hansen’s disease and treated appropriately.

The rabbis of the Midrash didn’t know English; they didn’t know the word, leprosy. They knew Hebrew, and their lesson came from insights into how we should read the word, “metzora.” They taught, “Metz” is short for “motzi,” as in “brings forth” (like the blessing for bread that thanks God for bringing forth bread from the earth); “Ra” means evil, and by bringing forth evil, he desecrates God’s name (Shem). The rabbis concluded that the metzora, “motzi (Shem) ra,” is the one who gives currency to an evil report and denies the entire Torah.

What is the evil that could do all this and render a person a so-called “leper” in his community? The only sin so heinous that it could cause a person to be isolated from the community, violate the entire Torah, and desecrate God’s name, is a deed that can’t be taken back, cleaned up, or resolved. To the rabbis, this was nothing but rumors, hearsay, and gossip.

Folk stories artistically illuminate their point. In one tale, the town yenta (gossip) was told to tear open a feather pillow and watch the feathers blow away with the wind. When the rabbi instructed the yenta to retrieve them all, she protested because it was an impossible task. Aha! We’re left to conclude that the yenta learned her lesson about spreading evil reports that can’t be easily retrieved, either.

Today, the lesson is still true. The metzora is still the one who gives currency to an evil report and denies the whole Torah, on which we rely. Thus, the metzora is anyone who spreads conspiracy theories, promotes false information for personal gain, contributes to the misunderstanding of innocent people, or promotes fear instead of hope. He is a metzora who should be marginalized, isolated, and rebuked.

In Leviticus, when the metzora returned from isolation and returned to the community, he brought a “guilt” offering. It provided evidence of his remorse, and his ability to take up a new role in the community. Presumably, it would be a role that demonstrated honesty, trustworthiness, and humility. The Torah and Talmud do not give examples of people who were unable to overcome their evil instincts. In one lesson, we’re taught, “The greater the passion (yetzer), the greater the person,” but that was only in reference to one’s inclination to use that passion to accomplish good deeds we call mitzvot. If it were passion for passion’s sake that served only oneself, then it was evil. Even so, Judaism permits one to make “teshuvah,” to repent even on one’s deathbed, because even one good deed can tip the scale in one’s favor. God loves nothing more than a sinner who repents.

The best way to proceed is to learn from Psalm 34. There we read so simply, “Keep your tongue from evil; depart from evil and do good.” To be a meaningful part of a community, even one that is hurting, requires nothing more than spending your day speaking helpful words and doing good deeds.

That the book of Leviticus is ancient is just a rumor. Leviticus is alive and well, and we are living proof that it can guide us even now.

L’Shalom,