We are living in a time when coughing on an airplane raises everyone’s alarm bells, and simple sniffles send a toddler home with instructions to test before coming back. We are no strangers to the concept of quarantine described in Parsha M’tzora this week, and perhaps more than ever, I understand the great caution the Israelites took to keep those who were ill safely away from the community. The priests who were responsible for regulating the health of bodies in the community took the quarantine method one step further: upon examination, if a person was suffering a prolonged affliction, they were instructed to call out, “Tamei, tamei!” or “Impure, impure!” for all to hear.
At first read, I was horrified by what I understood as a humiliating burden upon the ill person to have to advertise their affliction, but a commentary I came across helped me to understand the practice differently: As it is taught in a baraita:“And he will cry: Tamei, tamei” (Leviticus 13:45), that a person with tzara’at must publicize the fact that he is tamei. He must announce his pain to the masses, and the masses will pray for mercy on his behalf. And likewise, one to whom any unfortunate matter happens must announce it to the masses, and then the masses will pray for mercy on his behalf. (B.T. Chullin 78a)
The reason for calling out “Tamei, tamei!” is not to shame the person who’s afflicted. After all, as Rabbi Rachel Adler notes, everyone is tahor (pure) sometimes and tamei (impure) sometimes. Talmud means to teach that when we are afflicted, we need to make that known to the community so the community can pray for us.
In considering how meaningful I find it to read the Misheberach list, and offer prayers of healing both to loved ones and strangers who I know are in need, I’m recognizing this ancient practice as a way of training the community to pay attention to each other’s suffering, and offer whatever care we can while those we care for remain unwell – be it a card, a meal, or a call to listen.
I’m also reminded that there is only strength, not shame, in calling out for help when I am in need. No one needs to be silent in suffering. Especially in this Passover season, we remember, no one crosses the sea alone.
By Rabbi Laura Rumpf