We humans tend to talk... and talk... and talk. As social creatures reared for community, what we say and how we say it are part of our social bond and social currency. And being the social creatures we are, often we speak about others – maybe more than we know. For our spiritual ancestors, speaking of others wasn't mere idle chatter. Back then, no chatter was unimportant or inconsequential – especially if we spoke of others. The stakes were high. They still are. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Tazria-Metzora 5785 (2025)
We humans are talkers. In Jewish tradition, our capacity to speak is all but Godlike in its power. The One we call God spoke, and the world was: "Let there be light, and light was." Tradition records that God spoke Torah, and continues to speak creation's renewal every day.
We, in our ability to speak, also can create – or destroy. Words can knit or fray, include or exclude, heal or harm, make peace or wage war . If we consider our lives, or just today's news, we may know this truth in our bones. What we say matters.
And it matters that tradition assigned "bad speech" (in Hebrew, lashon hara) as the reason one would contract the spiritual sickness of tzora'at, focus of this week's double Torah portion.
Lashon hara is a complex subject, and no simple blogpost can do it justice. For our purposes, lashon hara includes speaking negatively of others outside their presence. Think not only false rumors and backstabbing, but also routine social gossip, avoidance and indirection.
Lashon hara is so damaging that, according to Talmud, it is akin to a murder spree: it kills the speaker, the target and the one who hears (B.T. Arakhin 15b). Consider: how many in our world are spiritual zombies – like the walking dead – because we heard, spoke or were the subject of lashon hara?
As for tzora'at, many imagine it to be leprosy, except houses and things also could develop it – so it wasn't a biological malady as we might know one today. Still, our ancestors feared it and thought it contagious. Importantly, Moses' sister Miriam suddenly showed tzora'at later in Torah when she badmouthed Moses and his wife, Tziporah (Num. 12:1-10). Our ancestors therefore deduced that lashon hara causes spiritual sickness.
I would add that lashon hara also arises from spiritual sickness. Think about why one might feel the impulse to speak of another negatively outside their presence, amplify the negative, ascribe motive, or think the worst and nudge others to do the same? With rare exceptions, such persons are inwardly ailing – often in ways having nothing to do with the subject matter.
All of us who lived through the covid-19 pandemic know the ire and social taboo of knowingly exposing another. Similarly in Torah, one afflicted with tzora'at was told to self-isolate, cover their lips and call out "Impure! Impure!" as they went (Lev. 13:45). In a sense, it was a warning to others to steer clear.
Understood symbolically, Torah's teaching holds ever deeper wisdom. One who engages in lashon hara is called to cover their lips, self-isolate and purge the impulse underlying one's own lashon hara so they can feel whole and inwardly healthy again. In calling out "impure impure" to others, one who originally spoke impurity now speaks their own, bringing to one's own lips the truth of their inner condition (Kli Yakar, Lev. 13:45).
Nahman of Breslov famously taught that if we believe ourselves able to hurt (we are), then we must believe ourselves able to heal. If we are to reclaim the holiness of speech, and the sacredness of our words, we must begin by healing the subtle impulse deep within.
Tazria-Metzora 5785 (2025)
We humans are talkers. In Jewish tradition, our capacity to speak is all but Godlike in its power. The One we call God spoke, and the world was: "Let there be light, and light was." Tradition records that God spoke Torah, and continues to speak creation's renewal every day.
We, in our ability to speak, also can create – or destroy. Words can knit or fray, include or exclude, heal or harm, make peace or wage war . If we consider our lives, or just today's news, we may know this truth in our bones. What we say matters.
And it matters that tradition assigned "bad speech" (in Hebrew, lashon hara) as the reason one would contract the spiritual sickness of tzora'at, focus of this week's double Torah portion.
Lashon hara is a complex subject, and no simple blogpost can do it justice. For our purposes, lashon hara includes speaking negatively of others outside their presence. Think not only false rumors and backstabbing, but also routine social gossip, avoidance and indirection.
Lashon hara is so damaging that, according to Talmud, it is akin to a murder spree: it kills the speaker, the target and the one who hears (B.T. Arakhin 15b). Consider: how many in our world are spiritual zombies – like the walking dead – because we heard, spoke or were the subject of lashon hara?
As for tzora'at, many imagine it to be leprosy, except houses and things also could develop it – so it wasn't a biological malady as we might know one today. Still, our ancestors feared it and thought it contagious. Importantly, Moses' sister Miriam suddenly showed tzora'at later in Torah when she badmouthed Moses and his wife, Tziporah (Num. 12:1-10). Our ancestors therefore deduced that lashon hara causes spiritual sickness.
I would add that lashon hara also arises from spiritual sickness. Think about why one might feel the impulse to speak of another negatively outside their presence, amplify the negative, ascribe motive, or think the worst and nudge others to do the same? With rare exceptions, such persons are inwardly ailing – often in ways having nothing to do with the subject matter.
All of us who lived through the covid-19 pandemic know the ire and social taboo of knowingly exposing another. Similarly in Torah, one afflicted with tzora'at was told to self-isolate, cover their lips and call out "Impure! Impure!" as they went (Lev. 13:45). In a sense, it was a warning to others to steer clear.
Understood symbolically, Torah's teaching holds ever deeper wisdom. One who engages in lashon hara is called to cover their lips, self-isolate and purge the impulse underlying one's own lashon hara so they can feel whole and inwardly healthy again. In calling out "impure impure" to others, one who originally spoke impurity now speaks their own, bringing to one's own lips the truth of their inner condition (Kli Yakar, Lev. 13:45).
Nahman of Breslov famously taught that if we believe ourselves able to hurt (we are), then we must believe ourselves able to heal. If we are to reclaim the holiness of speech, and the sacredness of our words, we must begin by healing the subtle impulse deep within.