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ask me why I'm bald

on Monday, 07 April 2014.

A SERMON FOR METZORA 2014

Note: On Tuesday, April 1, I was privileged to participate, along with 74 other Reform rabbis, in the "Shave for the Brave" to raise money and awareness for childhood cancers. Following is the sermon that I delivered last Friday.  To donate to the initative, please click here.

 

Shabbat Shalom.

For some reason, people have been looking at me funny all week. I don’t know why – it must be this “Ask Me Why I’m Bald” button I’ve been wearing. The truth is, it’s been an absolute privilege for me all week long to explain to people why I suddenly look the way I do. I’ll say more about that in a moment. But first, let’s talk some Torah.

 
This week, we read parashat Metzora. Metzora is the Hebrew word for a person afflicted with tzara-at – the scaly skin disease that is described in last week’s portion. Tazria described for us this frightening disease that would afflict people in the ancient world. As many of you know, the rabbis understood tzara-at as a punishment for the sin of Lashon Hara­ (evil speech or gossip) and also for the sins of stingness and haughtiness – the ones that have the most to do with whether we are treating people nicely around us. If someone was found to have that disease, they would have been quarantined outside the camp for at least 7 days. That’s last week’s portion.
 
This week’s parashah describes the ritual by which the person was welcomed back into the camp, once they had been cured. It is a ritual in several parts. First:
 

Leviticus 14:4
וְצִוָּה הַכֹּהֵן וְלָקַח לַמִּטַּהֵר שְׁתֵּֽי־צִפֳּרִים חַיּוֹת טְהֹרוֹת וְעֵץ אֶרֶז וּשְׁנִי תוֹלַעַת וְאֵזֹֽב:
4 the priest shall order two live clean birds, cedar wood, crimson stuff, and hyssop to be brought for him who is to be cleansed.
 

And they perform a sacrifice on behalf of the afflicted person. Then:
 

 

Leviticus 14:9
וְהָיָה בַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי יְגַלַּח אֶת־כָּל־שְׂעָרוֹ אֶת־רֹאשׁוֹ וְאֶת־זְקָנוֹ וְאֵת גַּבֹּת עֵינָיו וְאֶת־כָּל־שְׂעָרוֹ יְגַלֵּחַ וְכִבֶּס אֶת־בְּגָדָיו וְרָחַץ אֶת־בְּשָׂרוֹ בַּמַּיִם וְטָהֵֽר:
On the seventh day he shall shave off all his hair -- of head, beard, and eyebrows. When he has shaved off all his hair, he shall wash his clothes and bathe his body in water; then he shall be clean.
 

So first, he performs a sacrifice – a way of atoning for the past. And then, he shaves of all of his hair – makes himself clean, and bathes in renewing waters as a way of “being reborn” (so to speak) and moving forward – away from the disease and toward regular life.
 
I have to tell you, I can’t believe that this happens to be in this week’s Torah portion!
 
Earlier this week, I was privileged to take part in something called the “Shave for the Brave.” The initiative was inspired by a young man who is known as “Superman Sam.” Sammy Sommer was the child of 2 of my colleagues – Rabbi Phyllis Sommer and Rabbi Michael Sommer. They were about 4 or 5 years ahead of me in rabbinical school. (They were those nice older students who invited us to their homes for Shabbat when we arrived in Cincinnati.) Fast forward about 10 years, and in 2012 their 8 year old son was diagnosed with childhood leukemia. Phyllis – and many of you have seen this – lovingly and painstakingly shared their life on her blog, called “Superman Sam.” So that 18 months later, when Sammy died, there were thousands of people who had come along on the journey with them.
 
Just before Sammy passed away, his parents came up with the idea to get 36 rabbis to shave their heads to raise money and awareness for childhood cancers. 36 is a nice number – because it represents double chai (life) – and because it is traditionally number of truly righteous people who exist in the world at any given time, according to Jewish mysticism. Plus, they thought they it would be hard to get 36 rabbis to shave their heads. But they were wrong. 36 grew into 40, and 40 grew into 60, and this past Tuesday, 74 Reform Rabbis shaved their head – most of us together in Chicago at the rabbinical convention, but others by themselves around North America. And in the meantime, the group has managed to raise an unbelievable $582,000 toward childhood cancer research. And that number is still growing, because, of course, donations can be made at any time.
 
So on Tuesday night, I sat among colleagues and friends and participated in this strange ritual. Some of you watched it live streaming, and you know that the mood was an eerie mix of celebration and sadness. Celebration, of course, because it was an amazing thing to be part of – to have raised money, to have raised awareness, to have brought a community together in this very unique way. And so we were happy – cheering each other on, singing songs from “Hair.” But there was also sadness, because Sammy Sommer wasn’t there. And because there are still way to many Sammys in all of our lives. I didn’t really know Sammy, but I know plenty of people - children and adults - whose lives have been changed or affected or cut short. And I’m sure you do too.
 
In the Torah portion, the Metzora shaves as a way of atoning for the sins of haughtiness and lashon hara. Our shave was not that – I don’t feel like we were atoning for anything, but it was humbling. It is humbling to realize just how quickly your appearance can be changed in really obvious ways. That often happens to people who get cancer. It’s humbling to realize just how powerful we are, and just how powerless. We can raise $600,000, which really and truly will help people. But we can’t bring back the people that we miss. All we can do is try turn grief into inspiration; try to turn memory into motivation.
 
So that’s the answer to “Ask me why I’m bald.” I’m bald because my friends went through something terrible. And because other people in my life have suffered in similar ways. I’m bald because I believe that we human beings do have the power to make the world better – to prevent some future people from having to go through the same thing. And I’m bald because it was the least I could do in a situation where I could do nothing.
 
יְגַלַּח אֶת־כָּל־שְׂעָרוֹ
"He shall shave off all his hair." And by doing so, begin to move forward, back into life.
 
May we recognize that we are never powerless, even when we feel so.
And may the memory of our struggles, our pain, and our losses inspire us to make the world a better place.

Sat, May 18 2024 10 Iyar 5784