18 Apr PARSHAS TAZRIA: DON’T ONLY LOOK AT THE DISEASE; SEE THE PERSON

The Origin of
Holistic Medicine

The Redundancy
The Torah portion of
Tazria, Leviticus
chapter 13, discusses
the laws of tzaraas, an
unusual The Torah portion of Tazria,
Leviticus chapter 13, discusses the laws of
tzaraas, an unusual illness, identified by a
white patch appearing on the skin of a person
with the hair inside of it turning white. This
was symptomatic of an internal moral and
spiritual blemish, and it deemed the person as
temporarily “impure.” He or she was required
to separate from the community and undergo
an intense program of introspection and
healing.
The Torah describes the procedures for
determining the tzaraas/leprosy condition:
The Kohen shall look at the affliction on the
skin of his flesh; If hair in the affliction has
turned white, and the affliction’s appearance
is deeper than the skin of his flesh –- it is a
tzaraas affliction; the Kohen shall look at him
and make him impure.
The Torah is stating that only a Kohen (a
priest), a descendent of Aaron the High
Priest, was authorized to diagnose a tzaraasleprosy and pronounce the malady as such.
Even in a case where all the symptoms of the
illness are clearly present and a multitude of
scholars recognize it as tzaraas, the person
cannot be diagnosed as possessing this
malady unless a Kohen states so explicitly.
But there is a blatant strange redundancy in
the above verse. Can you see it?
The verse states: “The Kohen shall look at
the affliction on the skin of his flesh… the
Kohen shall look at it and make him impure.”
Why is the same phrase repeated? The Torah
should have said: “The Kohen shall look at
the affliction on the skin of his flesh… and
make him impure.” Why does it say again,
“the Kohen shall look at it?”
One of the great rabbis of the last generation
offered a magnificent explanation. As it turns
out, the origins of what we call today “holistic
medicine” and the “integrated approach” are
in the Torah.
Rabbi Meir Simcha HaKohen of Dvinsk
(1843–1926), author of the Torah commentary
Meshech Chochma, was one of the prominent
sages and leaders in Eastern Europe in the
early 20th century. He himself was a Kohen,
and hence this insight is even more personal.
[4]
The Two Steps
The Meshech Chochmah suggests that the
Torah is teaching us a profound law and
lesson.
There are two distinct evaluations that need
to be made. Note that the first time around the
Torah states: “The Kohen shall look at the
affliction on the skin of his flesh…” The
second time around the Torah states: “The
Kohen shall look at him and make him
impure.”
These, suggests Reb Meir Simcha, are two
separate evaluations. One is on the disease;
the other is on the person. First, the Kohen
must look at the affliction (“V’raah haKohen
es haNega”) and see if it is one that technically
meets the definition of a tzaraas-leprosy
description. He must examine the symptoms
and determine the proper diagnosis based on
the nature of this disease. What he is looking
at is the affliction.
But that is not enough. He must now look at
something else. He must look at the person
(“v’raahhu haKohen”), “and the Kohen shall
look at HIM,” and see if it is appropriate to
declare this person impure. The symptoms
may be present, but the person may not be in
a state where you can declare him or her
impure.
The Torah instructs the Kohen to evaluate
two independent factors: (a) whether the
blemish is indeed a tzaraas; and (b) whether
at this time it is appropriate to turn the person
into a metzorah. Unless both factors are
present, the Kohen should not declare the
person impure.
The Practical Difference
As an example of this, Reb Meir Simcha
quotes the following Talmudic law:
“If the leper is a newlywed groom, he is
given the Seven Days of Feasting (before
declaring him impure), and the same applies
on a Festival.” Meaning, if a fresh groom or
bride develops the symptoms of leprosy, the
Kohen will not examine them and declare
them impure, even if all the symptoms are
blatantly present, until after a full week
passes since the wedding. The same is true
for the seven days of the holidays, Passover
and Sukkos. In order to avoid spoiling one’s
wedding celebration or the joy of the festival
(Yom Tov), the Kohen has the license to
delay proclaiming the person a metzorah (a
leper) even though he knows full well that the
skin condition qualifies as leprosy.
How can the Rabbis come up with such a
novel law? If the Torah says that someone is
a leper and needs a certain treatment, delaying
it is wrong. It is like delaying medical
treatment for a patient in the middle of the
holidays, so as not to aggravate him! You are
not doing him a favor. How then could the
Rabbis come up with this novel law that we
may delay the entire process of examination
and diagnosis?
The Sages derived this law from the
following verse: “And on the day that it will
be seen.” Why is the day mentioned here?
The verse could have said, “and when it will
be seen.” The words “and on the day” come
to teach us that there are days when the
Kohen will not look at the leprosy.
The Kohen must look if it is the right
time to declare him impure, or we
must wait for another time. From
this, the Talmud deduced that certain
times are off-limits for examining the
symptoms of the leprosy. And they reasoned
which days would be considered off-limits.
This is as far as times are concerned. The
Meshech Chochmah brilliantly argues that
the meaning behind the redundancy in the
above verse teaches us something even more
powerful: Sometimes the person is not ready
for this verdict. The Torah instructs the
Kohen not only to look at the symptoms, not
only to look at the time but also to look at the
person. Not only to examine the malady but
also to peer into the human being. The person
may have the disease, but if the person is not
ready to become impure, he should not deem
him impure.
This is a novel idea of the Meshech
Chochmah. The Kohen has the right to ignore
the symptoms for any reason that makes the
Kohen feel that it is wrong to declare him
impure. For example, if this person with the
symptoms must be in the company of people;
to quarantine him outside of the Jewish camp
would be dangerous and counter-productive,
then this person is not in a state where he or
she can be seen and diagnosed as being
impure.
A New Medicine
Fascinatingly, this approach, articulated
millennia ago in the Torah, is reflected in
contemporary medicine.
There are two approaches to medicine. The
decision as to which model to use for
diagnosis and treatment of the patient
revolves around the following question: does
the physician treat with the goal of
ameliorating his patient’s symptoms, or does
he treat with the goal of putting the entire
patient in balance, treating the person, not
only the disease? With the goal of stopping
pain or discomfort, and eliminate symptoms,
the physician needs to consider the fastest,
least complicated, least expensive, and most
efficacious therapy, and the approach with
the fewest side effects. Should his goal be to
promote overall balance and wellbeing, the
physician needs to choose a treatment
protocol that best addresses the patient’s
patterns and differential diagnosis,
constitution, and history, including
imbalances in the patient’s biochemistry,
biomechanics, and bioelectricity, as well as
non-physical considerations: his emotional,
mental, psychological, and spiritual state.
The Torah is intimating to us that a healer’s
approach should be not only to focus and get
rid of the symptoms but rather to look at and
treat the “whole person,” for if not, the whole
person will not get well. Either there will be
some other new condition, or the condition
originally treated will return. The Torah
advocates a “holistic approach,” appreciating
all facets of a person’s life, and seeing how
all aspects of our lives are integrated, rather
than just suppress local symptoms.
How to Diagnose People
The message to all of us is how we judge
ourselves and others.
Before I can pronounce a person as impure,
I need to see the person, not only the problem.
Do I know how to recognize the difference
between evil and trauma? Between
selfishness and fear? Between being bad and
being wounded?
A teacher of mine once told me: do not
answer the question; answer the person. A
person may come and ask you: why did my
mother die young? You may be a wise guy
and say because she had a weak heart. Maybe
you answered the question, but you did not
answer the person. He was not asking a
medical question; he was asking an emotional
question. He is in pain. He misses his mother.
The Mishna in Ethics of the Fathers tells us
to “give every person the benefit of the
doubt.” But a more precise translation is that
“one should judge the whole person as
meritorious.” (“Heve dan es kol haAdam
l’kaf zechus.”) Before you judge someone,
you need to look at all the factors making up
the person. You need to look at “kal haAdam,”
at the entire human being, before you give a
diagnosis. Never judge somebody without
knowing the whole story and the whole
person. You may think you understand, but
you don’t.
A Tale of Two Therapists
There are also two types of therapists. Those
who fit each patient into a pre-existing mode;
and those who will tune in to the unique
persona and struggles of the patient.
They do not fit him into their boxes, but
rather employ their models, and will borrow
from diverse models, to help accommodate
the person they are treating.
When Your Child Rejects You
Your child, or your student, may be behaving
disrespectfully. He may be saying hurtful
things. At such a moment you are tempted to
look at him and say: You are tameh! You are
impure. Get out of my home.
Technically, you may be correct. He has all
the symptoms. His behaviors are illconceived and obnoxious. But the Torah
says: Wait! “Varahu HaKohen,” you must not
only look at the actual behavior, at the actual
words coming out of his or her mouth but
also at the entire human being. Evaluate his
entire story.
In life, don’t try to suppress the symptoms;

but rather try to understand the person.
Will calling this child “impure,”
“contaminated,” “tarnished,” really help him
or her? Is this what he or she needs? Will this
really serve his or her interests? Will it help
him rehabilitate himself? Is it possible that
there is a deep pain in this child’s heart which
he is incapable of addressing and is causing
him deep anguish and anger? Maybe this is a
time he needs more of his father, not less of
his father? He needs more empathy, not less. It
is precisely at this moment that he needs you
much more than he can even articulate!
I See Your Heart
Rabbi Aryeh Levin, known as the Tzaddik of
Jerusalem, was once walking on the street,
when he saw a former student of his, who had
abandoned the Jewish way of life, walking
toward him. When the student noticed that he
was walking directly toward his former
master, he crossed the street to avoid him.
Reb Aryeh went after him and said with a
smile: “I’m so happy to see you! Why did you
avoid me?”
The student replied: “I will be perfectly
honest. I am embarrassed to see you because I
don’t have a kipa on my head…”
Reb Aryeh looked at him and said: “My dear
student, don’t you realize that I am a short
man! I can only see up to your heart.”
There are two types of educators and
teachers. Some just see the rules and the
deviations of the rules, but others can just peer
into the heart and see a soul.
Do Not Win Arguments
In 1963, Professor Velvl Greene was a rising
star at the University of Minnesota. Greene
was a pioneer in the field of bacteriology,
having been invited by NASA to study the
effects of space travel on human life. The
young scientist was visiting and lecturing at
dozens of universities across America each
year.
1963 was also the year that Professor Greene
first met Rabbi Moshe Feller, the Lubavitcher
Rebbe’s emissary in Minneapolis. Up to that
point, the Greenes, like many American Jews
of their generation, gave little credence to
their Jewish heritage; observances like
Shabbat, kashrut, and tefillin struck them as
old-fashioned, if not primitive. But in the
young Chassidic couple, Professor Green saw
a vibrant and fulfilling outlook and lifestyle,
one which could fill the deep void in his
successful yet rootless life.
At Rabbi Feller’s suggestion, Professor
Greene wrote to the Rebbe about this “void”
and his interest in Judaism; the Rebbe’s warm
and engaging reply was not long in coming.
The two developed a steady correspondence,
and the young scientist was soon taken by the
Rebbe’s phenomenal mind and passionate
devotion. With each letter, Greene found
himself further encouraged along his spiritual
journey and his commitment to Torah. Soon
the Greenes had made their kitchen kosher
and begun to observe Shabbat.
One day Professor Greene came across a
letter the Rebbe wrote to a scientist concerning
the Torah’s account of the creation of the
universe and the rejection of the theory of
evolution. Dr. Greene penned a no-holds barred critique. “Because I greatly respected
the Rebbe,” Professor Greene recalls, “I
dropped the forgiving tone that scientists often
use with laymen, addressing the Rebbe as if he
were a colleague whose ideas I rejected. I
bluntly stated that he was wrong, specifying
what I saw as faulty and unscientific. I
concluded my letter by saying that the Rebbe
had best stick to his field of expertise, Torah,
and leave science to scientists.”
But the Rebbe’s next letter resumed their
correspondence where it had originally begun
– in Greene’s spiritual quest and his Jewish
identity. Of the evolution issue – not a word.
The Professor assumed that the Rebbe was
conceding that in matters of empirical fact,
Torah must defer to scientific reason. With
this, he considered the matter closed.
Professor Greene’s progress towards a
Torah-true life continued, and over the next
year and a half, he reported to the Rebbe each
Jewish milestone along his journey: full
Shabbat observance, observance of family
purity, etc. The Rebbe responded with words
of encouragement and blessing, and, on one
occasion, a gift of a pair of tefillin which
Green began to wrap regularly.
Then came the letter in which the Greenes
told the Rebbe that they had decided to place
their children in a Yeshivah to receive the
fullest possible Jewish education. The Rebbe’s
reply was especially warm and encouraging,
as befitting the turning point in their lives that
such a move indicated. Then, at the end of his
letter, the Rebbe added, “By the way,
concerning what you wrote me regarding the
Torah’s account of creation…” and proceeded
to refute, point by point, Professor Greene’s
objections to the Rebbe’s “unscientific”
treatment of the subject.
“You are probably wondering,” concluded
the Rebbe, “why I waited this long to respond
to your remarks on the matter. But my job in
life is not to win arguments. My job is to bring
Jews closer to the Torah and its mitzvot.”

Don’t try to win arguments; try to help
people.