This week’s double portion, Tazria and Metzora, deals with a topic that feels distant to many of us today: biblical leprosy, or tzara’at. While these chapters focus on physical conditions like tzara’at, they also reflect a deeper concern—how the physical and spiritual were closely connected in the life of the community. Certain conditions, behaviors, or attitudes could separate someone not just from others, but from God’s presence as well.

Unlike modern leprosy, tzara’at in the Bible wasn’t just a medical diagnosis. It was a visible sign meant to point to something deeper—something that needed attention and repair. In Exodus 4:6–7, God used leprosy as a sign of His power to Moses. In Numbers 12, Miriam’s critical words led to her being struck with tzara’at. Both moments were meant to wake people up—not just to illness, but to the spiritual state behind it.

According to Leviticus, a person diagnosed with tzara’at was declared tamé—ritually impure—and had to live outside the camp. This separation wasn’t just a penalty; it served a practical and spiritual purpose. Physically, it protected the community. Spiritually, it gave space for self-examination and growth. It reminded everyone that pride, gossip, or hidden sin could isolate us—not just physically, but relationally and spiritually. But it also showed that separation wasn’t the end. Restoration was possible. God made a way back.

That truth comes to life in the Haftarah from 2 Kings 7. Here we meet four men with tzara’at, sitting outside the gates of a starving, besieged city. Society had already labeled them as unclean, as outcasts. But God didn’t overlook them. In fact, He was at work through them. These four rejected men were the first to discover that the Aramean army had fled. They stumbled into empty enemy tents filled with food, riches, and supplies.

At first, they began collecting what they could—eating, drinking, and hiding valuables. Who could blame them? They had nothing, and no one expected anything of them. But then something shifted. They said:

We are not doing right. This day is a day of good news, and we are keeping silent.

They could have stayed quiet. They could have kept the miracle for themselves. But they didn’t. They chose to return to the city—the same city that had pushed them out—and share the news that would save lives. That act alone speaks volumes.

This is a reminder not to look down on anyone. People may be rejected by the world, but they are not rejected by God. And we should not look down on ourselves either. Your past, your pain, your circumstances—none of that disqualifies you from being part of God's purposes. He works through those the world casts aside. He brings redemption through unexpected people and paths.

So this Shabbat, let’s take that to heart. Don’t count anyone out—not your neighbor, not the person who’s fallen, not the person who’s overlooked. And don’t count yourself out either. God is still at work. He can bring hope through the most unlikely messengers.

Let’s be like those four men—honest about where we are, bold enough to take a step forward, and willing to speak up when we see what God has done.

Shabbat Shalom,
Moran