A lesson for all of us from this weeks Parsha

The first of this week's two Torah portions, Tazria, speaks of one of the most serious forms of ritual impurity, the disease of tzara'at. A person thus afflicted (called a "metzora") was sent outside the Jewish camp and lived in total seclusion until he was cured.

The only authority qualified to determine if an individual had tzara'at and was required to leave the camp was a kohen (priest), as it says, "When the disease of tzara'at is in a man, he shall be brought to the priest...and the priest shall see him and pronounce him impure...for all the days that he bears the affliction...he is impure...."

Even the greatest Torah authority was not permitted to establish the existence of tzara'at if he was not a priest. The only opinion that bore weight was that of the kohen, and his decision was accepted as law.

Why couldn't a Torah authority establish the existence of tzara'at? Why did this have to be done by a kohen?

The answer is revealed when we consider the punishment incurred by the metzora. A metzora was required to undergo a particularly harsh form of
punishment: banishment and isolation from the rest of society. The metzora, forced to leave the camp of Israel, was seemingly cut off from the entire Jewish people.

By nature, kohanim are merciful people. Their hearts are filled with love for their fellow Jews, as reflected in the Priestly Blessing:
"...Who has sanctified us with His mitzvot and commanded us to bless His people Israel with love."

The Torah recognizes that a priest will not rush to judge his fellow Jew impure. The priest is reluctant to pronounce a person a metzora, thereby subjecting him to severe punishment. The kohen will go to great lengths in order to spare another person suffering.

The Torah relies on a kohen's judgment as it knows he will make the determination of tzara'at only when there is no other choice. For this reason the ability to establish tzara'at, and the accompanying responsibility for condemning a fellow Jew to social isolation, is given solely to him.

This contains a lesson for all of us:

We must never deem a person worthy of censure and shun his company, even if his behavior appears defective. No flaw is so great that it warrants rejection of our fellow Jew.

Instead, the first thing we must do is examine our own conduct and motivation. Are we seeing another Jew's defects out of love for him, or are we merely recognizing character defects in others because they exist within ourselves? For it is only once we are sure that we are acting out of genuine love that we may approach another person and speak to him about correcting his behavior.

Adapted by Maayan Chai from Likutei Sichot, vol. 27