This week’s parsha, Tzav (Leviticus. 6:1−8:36), is the second parsha in a row that deals primarily with sacrifices (or, perhaps slightly more accurately, “offerings”). But towards the end, the Torah shifts back into narrative, as we do the final preparations for the Grand Opening, for the very first time, of the Mishkan (Tabernacle).
And right towards the end, at Lev. 8:35 we read of . . . a quarantine! Moshe (Moses) tells Aharon (Aaron) and his sons, who are going to be the high priests conducting the initial service, to go to the Tend of Meeting and . . . stay there for seven days.
Those who are somewhat familiar with the Torah are aware of a much more well known quarantine: that of a “metzora”, a person who has contracted “tzaraas”, a skin infliction, most popularly attributed to the sin of “lashon harah” (saying bad things about others).
And so we see, immediately, a contrast. A quarantine can be for the bad, or for the good. As a punishment, or as a period of introspection, of gearing up for “the big day.”
So, too, with our home confinement. The question asked of us is: can we see this as an opportunity to grow? Can we do things we ordinarily don’t do (reaching out to others whom we don’t usually, or shopping for somebody else)? Can we impact ourselves rather than letting the world impacting us?
This reminds me of the halacha (law) regarding the seder: if we are conducting a seder alone, we are still required to ask the Four Questions — out loud and to ourselves.
This is a metaphor, or a larger lesson. We ask of ourselves as we celebrate the time in our history when we were imprisoned and are finally set free. Are we going to walk out of here changed? We were slaves to all that has been controlling us — will that be the same when we get out of this virus-quarantine? Will we simply go back to being who we were (as the metzora can), or are we gearing up for the big day?
We will be free . . .the question is: to what?
In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: we will be free *not* do do “what we want”, but to do “what we ought.”
I wish everybody a wonderful Shabbat. A time to reflect on what’s important. A time to think about “what we ought”. I time to think that rather than arguing if the glass is half-empty or half-full, or even 1/10th full . . . that we at least have a glass.