FOR TAZRIA-METZORA
THE PURITY OF EXCITING LIFE
A couple of years ago, following the festival of Sukkos in the fall, I took up an agronomic mission. One of the festival’s rituals involves willow branches. I reckoned that having my own willow tree would allow the branches to be readily available for personal harvesting. I would be set for the festival for years to come. It did not take long for a solid stem to branch out of the flower pot. In time, I was hoping to plant the contents of the pot into the ground and enjoy a tree filled with willow branches.
In the ensuing couple of years, our plans included moving to a new home. It would have been unproductive for me to plant the contents of the flowerpot in the ground before moving to a new location, and so the branches continue to sit there.
Over this past winter, all the leaves of the young tree had fallen off. I was sure this was not supposed to happen, and I figured the thing had died. Before discarding it, though, I decided to leave it in the sun and wait for the spring. I am glad I did, for just this week, tiny green shoots have surged out.
It is remarkable how seeing sprouts of life can make a person feel. One invests time and effort on something. One then frets all over it, ensuring water, sunshine, and so forth. Nothing, however, is automatic. Production requires time, effort, and a healthy dose of Divine blessing. And when something seems like it is dead and makes a comeback, it is doubly gratifying.
Life is sometimes taken for granted until it is threatened. And then, the appreciation for it is profound.
If this is true regarding lower forms of life, how much more so with human life, the highest form of life. It is natural for people to be excited about monitoring life from conception until one’s mission on this earth is completed. It is also possible for life to be taken for granted.
The aforementioned explains a highly unusual usage of a word in the first of this week’s two Torah portions, “Tazria.” The name of the portion is one of its first words. The word translates as “conceives,” employing the Hebrew word for “seed.” When the Torah discusses the birth of children, it normally does not revert to the time of conception. This portion is the exception.
As the portion continues, it presents the difference in ritual impurity of the mother after the birth of a male and female child: For a male it is seven days and for the female fourteen days. The mother is later obligated to bring an offering to the Temple after thirty-three days for a male child, and after sixty-six days for a female.
The question begs to be asked: what difference does it make to the mother’s ritual state whether she gives birth to a male child or a female child?
The answer is about life, which also explains the terminology of conception used exclusively in this Torah portion. Ritual impurity stems from death. Living beings do not act as a source for impurity. When someone or something is physically alive, it mirrors the Ultimate and Eternal Life of the Almighty.
Once a month, the hormones in the female body perform a cleansing process by flushing out the previous life potential from the body and replacing it with a fresher version. During that time, as identified in the second of this week’s two Torah portions, “Metzora,” (Vayikra (Leviticus) 15:19), the woman assumes a state of ritual impurity until she immerses in the waters of a body of water called a “Mikveh.” This obligation continues to this day.
Because this natural event within the woman flushes away the ovum that could have produced another life, it is a “death” of sorts. This causes ritual impurity until after emerging from the waters of the Mikveh.
Those families following this remarkable mandate, observe what are called the “Family Purity” laws, for subsequent to the immersing in the Mikveh, the husband and wife resume physical contact and a physical relationship. A child conceived at this stage is considered “conceived in holiness and purity.”
It should now be understandable that, when the ritual rules of purity and impurity related to childbirth are presented, the terminology of conception is employed. For, according to the Torah, conception can take place after ritual purification following the “loss” of life potential.
And this is also why the birth of a female engenders a more lengthy ritual impurity: A child born is also a “loss” of life for the mother. Understandably, a female fetus is a greater source of potential life within the mother, for she, too, can give birth to children of her own in due course.
From the above, it is crystal clear how valuable and sacred life is. It also should act as an impetus to encourage and inspire parents to follow the beautiful rituals of Family Purity. Further, it should also inspire those who are able to produce more children. I often hear the laments from parents when, for them, it is too late to have more children.
Eight years ago this week, I was on a bus somewhere in Poland on the March of the Living trip. We were between visits at one death camp and another. I was sitting towards the back and kibitzing with the students, when the question of how many children we had at that time came up. I responded that Mrs. Lew was pregnant with number ten. “Oh my G-d!” came at me from several places… One student then asked, “How many are you going to have?”
“When we get to six million,” I replied, “we will worry about that question.”
There is no greater blessing and sanctity than life. If willows and all kinds of plant or animal life excite people, how much more so is the blessing and sanctity of human life?
Each child is a blessing to his or her parents. This blessing of life increases sanctity and blessing to the world at large as well.
SUMMARY: Life is exciting and fascinating to watch. Human life is manifold more exciting and holy.