Parshas Metzorah: Torah and Lashon Harah

This week’s Parsha continues the Halachos of Tzaras that began last week.

At the beginning of the Parsha, on the words “Zos Tihiyeh Toras HaMetzorah” the Ohr Chaim Hakadosh talks about the spiritual nature of Tzaras. To the outside observer, it is possible that the Metzorah is afflicted with Leprosy, which is a physical ailment. We know however that this is not the case: Tzaras is a completely spiritual Machla.

The Ohr Chaim discusses the physiological causes for Leprosy, and points out that the process undertaken by the Metzorah in order for him to become Tahor is the opposite of what medical professionals would recommend for one suffering from Leprosy. Therefore, when the Tzaras disappears and the Metzorah is ready to become Tahor, it is clear that it wasn’t a physical disease, but rather a spiritual one.

If Tzaras is in fact a spiritual disease, we must be able to identify the root cause: what deficiancy in a person’s Ruchnias could bring about such a punishment.

The Gemara in Arechin brings down no less than seven Aveiros, and brings a Passuk for each one that shows that the punishment for that Aveira is Tzaras. The Miforshei HaChumash, however, seem to focus on one Aveira in particular: Lashon Harah. The allusions to this Averia throughout the Parsha are many, but perhaps the most obvious is the word Metzorah itself, which can be seen as a conjunction of “Motzei Rah,” one who makes public negative information.

Seeing as the Meforshim seem to place great importance on this specific Aveira with regard to Tzaras we must try to understand the relationship between the two. Why would one who speaks Lashon Harah be punished specifically with Tzaras?

The Medrash, in the vein of discussing the relationship between Tzaras and Lashon Harah, brings a story that happened in Tzipori during the time of the Tanna Rav Yannai. A traveling merchant appeared in the marketplace of Tzipori proclaiming that he had the ultimate potion: a serum that would guarantee long life. A large crowd began to gather— who wouldn’t want to take part in a potion for longevity—and Rav Yannai himself ventured into the market to see what the commotion was about. When the merchant saw Rav Yannai, he said: “This secret is not for you or any of your type.” As the story continues, the merchant ultimately took out a Tehillim and read the Passuk: “Mi HaIsh HaChofetz Chaim…Netzor Leshoncha MeRah…” His message was clear: the Torah itself tells us the secret to a long life: guarding one’s tongue and avoiding Lashon Harah.

This story begs the question: why did the merchant tell Rav Yannai that this secret wasn’t necessary for him or “his type?”

The Da’as Zekanim in the beginning of the Parsha says that learning Torah prevents one from speaking Lashon Harah. Perhaps this was the merchant’s message: seeing as he was peddling the “secret” of Shmiras HaLashon as the key to a long life, those who are engrossed in Torah had no need for his solution: they would already be free of Lashon Harah.

This idea raises a question as well: why is it that Limmud HaTorah prevents one from speaking Lashon Harah? Obviously the more one is steeped in Torah, the more careful he will be with regard to his Shmiras HaMitzvos in general, but it seems here that it’s almost automatic: learning Torah prevents Lashon Harah specifically. Why?

Perhaps we can resolve both questions—the connection between Tzaras and Lashon Harah, and the prevention of Lashon Harah through Limmud Hatorah—with one central idea.

Generally we assume that if a person does Aveiros he is punished, sometimes on this world and sometimes in the next. But one cannot usually point to a specific event or circumstance and say “this is punishment for this specific Aveira that I did.”

Tzaras is different. The punishment is immediately obvious: spots begin to appear on a person’s walls, clothing or body. Once the Cohen confirms that these are indeed Negaim, the person is labeled a Metzorah. His punishment, and therefore his Aveira—Lashon Hara—are clear for him and all others to see.

Why is it that one who speaks Lashon Harah is punished in such an open and obvious way?

I once heard a beautiful thought to answer this question.

When a person speaks Lashon Harah, his though process is: “it’s just words! How can what I say actually affect anyone else?” If a person understood that he may hurt someone by merely talking, he may not speak Lashon Harah, but he doesn’t believe that his words can affect others.

This is why he is punished in such a blatant matter: if one speaks Lashon Harah he can see that his words have an effect, as he is afflicted with this spiritual malady. No longer will he think that his words are “just words,” clearly what he says, the words that leave his mouth, mean something.

Perhaps this explains the specific connection between Tzaras and Lashon Harah: when a person thinks that his words have no effect, he must be shown in a clear manner that they in fact do.

If we think about it, this idea—that what a person says “doesn’t matter”—stems from a general lack of self-worth. If a person really believes in himself, and understands his own significance, he wouldn’t attribute such a low value to his own words.

Perhaps this is why Limmud HaTorah and Lashon Harah are antithetical to each other.

The Torah is what sets us, Am Yisroel, apart from the other nations. When we received the Torah we became “Mamleches Kohaim V’Goy Kadosh.” The Torah itself is a testament to the value of each and every member of Klal Yisroel.

In his Sefer that focuses on the importance of Limmud Hatorah, R’ Yerucham Levovitz begins with a section called “Chavivin Yisroel.” Taken from a Shmuz he delivered in honor of Shavuos, the entire chapter is devoted to the idea that we are elevated by virtue of the fact that each of our Neshamos was present at Har Sinai.

The Gemara tells us that R’ Yosef celebrated Shavuos with specifically extravagant delicacies. He explained that Shavuos brought him much Simcha because without Kabalas HaTorah “Kamma Yosef Ikka B’Shuk: there are many ‘Yosefs’ in the street.” Without the Torah we would all just be another Joe in the street, but the fact that there was a Kabalas HaTorah elevated us to a new level.

When a person is involved in Limmud Hatorah he understands that there is an intrinsic value to each Jew because we are the Mikabalei HaTorah. We are each a member of the Mamleches Kohanim, not merely “Joes in the street. “

If that is the case, he won’t fall into the trap of thinking that his words are meaningless: he has an appropriate self-worth, and he will be more careful with what he is saying.

Perhaps this is why the merchant in Tzipori told Rav Yannai that neither he nor his type required this special “potion” or Netzor Leshoncha Me'ra.” They were the lomdei hatorah, and would certainly put value on themselves, and therefore their words.

We are all the Mikablei Hatroah, and as such we must hold ourselves in high esteem and conduct ourselves in a manner befitting members of the Mamleches Kohanim V’goy Kadosh.