Holiday Blues and Loneliness: Parshat Tzav

THE EXPECTATION OF HAPPINESS

It is a well-known phenomenon that people get depressed around holiday times. It might be because we have so many expectations, and the reality never keeps up with them. It could be little things going wrong that spoil the entire holiday—and too often these things are what are remembered. We tend to overeat, over drink (especially on Passover when we have to drink four of five full cups of wine). The next day we regret it. And there is all the build up to holidays: shopping, cooking, cleaning, exhaustion, and then we take it all for granted and no one even shows appreciation. And then there are the people who are no longer with us, and whose presence is sorely missed at the holiday table. So many people, friends and acquaintances have approached me and said: “Naomi, I know how hard this is going to be this year without Mike.” It certainly is different this year; but since Corona, and then Oct 7^th, and then the tribulations of aging, each Passover since 2000 has been difficult. I try to fend off all of these well-meaning, yet intrusive conversations, by simply acknowledging them. But it is true:

The National Alliance for Mental Illness cites “extra stress, unrealistic expectations, [and] sentimental memories that accompany the season” as sources of loneliness around the holidays for everyone…

On the other hand, the Torah commands us to be happy on the holidays:

ושמחת בחגך אתה ובנך ובתך ועבדך ואמתך והלוי והגר והיתום והאלמנה אשר בשעריך

You shall rejoice in your festival, with your son and daughter, your male and female slave, the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow in your communities (Deut. 16: 14).

I used to joke about this, because, the “you” is presumably the husband, not the wife, who should enjoy the holidays; on the other hand, this year I have a new status of widow, so this means I am now commanded to rejoice, whether I want to or not!

THIS WEEK’S PARSHA

What is interesting about this week’s parsha is that it would seem that for all sacrifices the priests have to dress in special clothing and have to eat matzot. Furthermore, the offerings cannot be baked with chametz.

God spoke to Moses, saying: Command Aaron and his sons thus: This is the ritual of the burnt offering: The burnt offering itself shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept going on it. The priest shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body; and he shall take up the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them beside the altar. A handful of the choice flour and oil of the meal offering shall be taken from it, with all the frankincense that is on the meal offering, and this token portion shall be turned into smoke on the altar as a pleasing odor to יהוה. What is left of it shall be eaten by Aaron and his sons; it shall be eaten as unleavened cakes (matzot), in the sacred precinct; they shall eat it in the enclosure of the Tent of Meeting. It shall not be baked with leaven (chametz); I have given it as their portion from My offerings by fire; it is most holy, like the sin offering and the guilt offering (Leviticus 6:1-10).

Rabbi Tali Adler, in “Ashes to Ashes,” her weekly drash, wrote something that really spoke to me, especially the last sentence which I have highlighted:

While Vayikra separates the different korbanot and the reasons they are brought into organized lists, the actual mishkan would have offered no clear separation. Within its curtained walls, people of different tribes, ages, and degrees of wealth would have mingled. Most markedly different, however, would have been the reasons they came to offer their sacrifices. On any given day in the mishkan, a nazir coming to complete his period of abstinence might stand side by side with a man filled with regret, there to offer his asham (guilt offering). Next to a new mother, there to offer her hatat (sin offering) as part of her purification ritual, might stand a woman recovered from illness, there to bring her todah (thanksgiving offering) as an expression of gratitude to God. At a distance, we might imagine a metzora (someone struck with skin disease), out of isolation and ready to offer his [or her] sacrifice and return home.

When I read this, it recalled to me the modern midrash I wrote many years ago about Miriam, Moses’s and Aaron’s sister. Since many people today have כוס מרים, Miriam’s Cup, on their Seder table, next to Elijah’s cup—hers with water and his with wine, I thought it would be relevant share some passages from my midrash. You can read the entire modern midrash, “The Discredited Prophetess,” in S/He Created Them. 

When Aaron turned toward Miriam, he saw that she was stricken with snow‑white scales. And Aaron said to Moses, “O my Lord, do not hold against us the sin which we unwittingly committed. Let her not be as one dead, who emerges from her mother’s womb with half her flesh eaten away.” So, Moses cried out to God, saying, “O Lord, please heal her!” But the Lord said to Moses, “…. Let her be shut out of camp for seven days, and then let her be readmitted.” So, Miriam was shut out of camp for seven days; and the people did not march on until Miriam was readmitted. (Numbers 12:10‑15)

This is much worse than I thought! I must find something to do. It was the morning of her third day of banishment. How much longer? I’ve never been punished like this before.

Before she was obliged to leave, Moses and Aaron had assured her that she would be outside the camp for only seven days. “Only seven days, indeed!” she thought.

There were no exceptions to the rule: Anyone who was diagnosed as having a skin disease had to go outside the camp for a week—alone—to simply wait for the disease to run its course. The priestly families could differentiate between various rashes, but chose to refer to each outbreak of the skin as tzara’at or leprosy. Despite its name, very few had the dreaded variety of illness called Egyptian leprosy.

The priests claimed the different categories of leprosy were all caused by sin. If the person’s contagion stopped, he would be pronounced healthy and be required to bring a sacrifice in the form of a sin offering. If not pronounced healthy, he would remain alone outside the camp for another seven days to seek out the source of his sin and engage in intensive soul‑searching.

Miriam was beset by terrible doubts about the severity of her punishment. She thought it unfair that only she was being punished, and not her brother Aaron as well. After all, together, the two of them had voiced complaints about Moses. She bitterly criticized the fact that those who were diseased had to expiate their sin by spending the entire period of quarantine alone—separated from others similarly afflicted. What kind of God demands that one endure this mental and physical pain in a state of loneliness!

She had plenty of time to contemplate her “sin”. She still felt she and Aaron were right in criticizing their younger brother Moses for having married a black woman. If this was a sin, why wasn’t Aaron similarly afflicted? Is criticism of our brother now to be tabooed? After all, Moses is not God!

Miriam made the rounds outside the camp. She met people with different skin diseases. Each person’s major complaint was the loneliness. She suggested that the people congregate to take care of each other; that they put up makeshift huts for those who were really sick. The healthier people could care for the very sick.

She was pleased to be able to use her organizational abilities. She realized that she had re‑interpreted the law of badad yeshev, “you shall remain in complete isolation” (Leviticus 13, 46) and hoped she would not be punished for usurping the power of interpretation from Moses. She was aware of the danger of stepping out of line for she had witnessed what had happened to Aaron’s sons.

She felt that it was going to be difficult to worship a God who afflicted people with diseases for not agreeing with Him. This is not the God we left Egypt to worship. I cannot accept that this is God’s doing.

It took a great deal of convincing and cajoling, but the entire nation of Israelites waited for her. Moses was powerful enough to convince them that it would be ungrateful and wrong to leave Miriam behind after all she had done for them. After a great show of resentment, they agreed. They would wait this time but if she sinned again, they would not wait for her a second time. Who did she think she was? She would have to catch up to them just like anyone else.

It is lonely here. Four more days to go.

Shabbat shalom and Hag Sameach!