Jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge straight into Israel

“… and he shall dwell alone, isolated outside the camp will be his residence …” (Leviticus 13:46)

Thus we are told is the punishment for the person afflicted with Tzara’at, the spiritual disease often likened to leprosy and brought on by — according to our Sages — the sin of speaking ill of other people.

Rashi notes that this punishment is quite logical.  After all, the sinner caused much harm to the people he spoke ill of, and most likely damaged their relationships with one another through his slander, thus isolating people from one another.  He is thus separated from the entire community and made to feel the same pain he inflicted on others.

Others suggest a slight variation on this interpretation, arguing that his isolation is not so much a punishment but rather the natural consequence of his actions.  After all, who wants to be around someone speaking ill of others?  He is sent outside the camp to notify him of the likely self-inflicted consequences that will follow if he continues his despicable behavior.

I would like to offer a third possibility, one that I believe has ramifications for how we celebrate Yom Ha’atzmeut.

On a totally different topic, the Mishna in Kiddushin speaks of an individual that calls into question the validity of another person’s lineage, thus challening that second person’s right to marry.  The Mishna dismisses this ‘overly righteous’ behavior as being detrimental, and suggests that the person who calls into question the ‘kosher’ status of another person is most likely ‘unkosher’ himself.  The one who pasuls (disqualifies) another is to become pasul himself.  Shmuel then goes on to offer a brilliant psychological insight: The disqualifying attribute he ascribes to another is nothing more than a negative quality he himself possesses.

In other words, the Rabbis of the Mishna understood quite well the power of projection.  If someone sees a flaw in another, it is quite possible that the other is actually free of such a flaw but the accuser himself is not.

The lesson for us today is obvious: Before you criticize another, better check the mirror first.

Rebbe Nachman takes this idea one step further.  He suggests that our internal flaws are not only the reasons why we often feel the need to criticize others, but are actually the sources for all our sins – from anger to hatred to pettiness to immodesty to you name it.  It is our internal incompleteness that inspires our negative external behavior.  When two people fight, for example, it is because they don’t like themselves (first) that causes them to hate each other (second). 

I read an interesting newspaper article that offers some insight into this idea.  It began by asking why so many people commit suicide by jumping off the Golden State Bridge in San Francisco, the most popular place to kill oneself in the United States.   Part of the answer it suggests is connected to the fact that many of the suicides — most of them in fact — are not locals but rather people who travelled across the country to make the jump.  For example, the police will very often find rental cars right next to the place where the suicide jumped.  And even those ‘locals’ who jump — those that actually lived in San Francisco — are usually not long term residents, but rather people who recently moved to the Bay area.   What does all this mean?

Some social scientists suggest that a person begins feeling depressed elsewhere, let’s say in New York.  Perhaps he begins to entertain thoughts of suicide, but he doesn’t act on them yet because he assumes the cause of all his problems are external.  It’s his job, his mean boss, his lousy friends, the bad weather, the noise … So this potential suicide moves to a new place, hoping that the new place will allow him to feel better about himself.  To his great chagrin, his problems return, despite the fact he has a new job, new friends and better weather.  So he moves again, further west, but his problems continue to follow him.  Eventually he arrives in California and then San Francisco specifically.  He has been told this is the most beautiful city in the country, so now, he hopes, everything will finally be better.  But then a terrible thing happens.  He’s still depressed.  It turns out that it wasn’t his job, his friends, the weather.  He’s in a beautiful place, and people let him be whoever he wants to be there … but you know what, he doesn’t like any of the options available.  It’s not them, it’s him.  He’s the problem.  And if he thought he might be able to keep moving, the Pacific ocean presents a symbolic barrier.  He can go no further.  He can’t escape his problems — because they’re inside of him, and they are bound to travel with him wherever he goes.

So he jumps.

***

Now let us return to our initial question:  Why is it that the person suffering from tzara’at — the spiritual disease brought on by speaking ill of other people – must be sent out of the camp and made to live all alone in complete isolation? 

The answer should now be obvious:  This person speaks ill of other people not because he is genuinely concerned with their flaws, but rather because he possesses these flaws himself.  And more than that: He is a very unhappy person in general.  Why else would he engage in this sin, or any sin for that matter?  He must therefore work on himself, to rid himself of his internal demons and make himself complete.  Only then will he stop sinning.

So he is sent outside the camp to the desolate desert.  He is not allowed to think he can go to a different place and all his problems will be solved.  The desert has nothing, no new friends, no new job.  He must live by himself and no one else — because he must learn how to live with himself!  

The punishment of tzara’at therefore is not a punishment at all.  It is a cure.  After he learns to live with himself, to become happy with who he is (and fix those things he’s not happy about), then he can return back to society.  And obviously, at that point in time, he won’t have the need to speak ill of anyone else anymore.

***

I believe this message has great relevance for Jews today as we begin to celebrate Yom Ha’atzmeut tonight.

Consider this: Most of the world accepts the fact that Jews ‘own’ the Torah.  True, other religions make claims that our Torah needs updating, and their ‘testaments’ do the job.  But they never deny the holiness of the initial work, nor the Jewish people’s connection to this book.  But when it comes to our connection to the Land of Israel it’s an entirely different story.  Here, many people of the world refuse to recognize our intimate link to the land.  Why the difference?

One answer I saw is based on the insight of one of the Rabbis of the Kollel Mitzion movement.  He notes that we — the Jewish people — accepted the Torah in a different way than how we accepted the Land of Israel.  With regards to the former, we said “na’aseh v’nishmah — we will do and then listen.”  In other words, we completely accepted the Torah of Israel without any hesitation.

With regards to the Land of Israel, however, hesitation plays a significant role.  God said to the Jewish people ’shlach lecha’ — send for yourself — spies to scout out the land.  The commentaries note that we did not need to sent the scouts; we could have simply taken it on faith that the land was great and we would acquire it thanks to God’s help.  But that didn’t happen.  We sent the scouts.  We waited for their report.  And then we accepted their negative report of the land over the positive one offered by Joshua and Caleb.  In short, we did not accept the land without hesitation as we did with the Torah.

Now perhaps we can understand why the nations of the world don’t always accept our connection to the land.  How can they?  We need to fully accept it first – without hesitation.  We need to convince ourselves that it is ours, that it is precious and without equal … and only then will the rest of the world feel the need to do the same.

We need to do the same internal check nationally as the lesson of the tzara’at instructs us to do personally.  If there is a problem, maybe it’s internal — maybe it’s us, not just them.

On Yom Ha’atzmeut we will have barbecues throughout the country.  Will we pick up our litter?  More globally, will we learn how to use all of Israel’s resources in a sustainable way?  If not, our behavior is not a sign of accepting the land, of treating it as holy, as our home.  It’s treating it as a garbage can. 

And of course, what about the fact that Jews around the world don’t visit here in the same numbers as non-Jews do?  Is this acceptance of the land as ours?  How can we explain that the planes are not full with olim every single day?  If the Jewish people have truly accepted Israel as ours, shouldn’t there be people knocking the doors down to enter here?  How can we say we have accepted the Land without hesitation?  I’m afraid we cannot — but if we wish others to accept our connection to the land, then we must accept it first. 

So this Israel Independence Day, accept the land.  Treat it as holy.  Treat it as your home.  Make it your home!