Natan Sharansky is not new to quarantine in 2020. While for many of us, not leaving our homes, beyond grocery shopping, is a new reality that we may still be adjusting to, Sharanksy spent close to half a decade in solitary confinement. It can be quite a cruel punishment. However, Sharansky learned how to adjust and to maintain optimism during that time. He shared a video in which he shared how he survived that experience and provided tips for how to live with dignity during that time. His fifth tip is “feel your connection and remember that you are not alone. We Jews, for thousands of years, all over the world, were scattered. But we always had this feeling that we are part of a big people, a great people, with our mutual past, with our mutual future, and with our mutual mission.” Being physically alone does not have to mean being emotionally alone, Sharansky says. How can we understand this from the lens of Judaism? What does it mean to be isolated in the context of halakha

There are two individuals in Jewish tradition who are required to withdraw from society. The metzora is an individual for whom the Torah prescribes withdrawal as a punishment. Someone who is inflicted with the malady of tzara’at (a term that is difficult to translate) is considered impure. Generally speaking, contracting impurity does not require extreme isolation; rather, depending on the case, it may have consequences regarding what one can touch and eat and where one can go. However, the metzora embodies a different type of impurity, as this individual must remain alone. The Torah states:  כָּל יְמֵי אֲשֶׁר הַנֶּגַע בּוֹ יִטְמָא טָמֵא הוּא בָּדָד יֵשֵׁב מִחוּץ לַמַּחֲנֶה מוֹשָׁבוֹ- “all the days that the affliction is on him he shall remain impure. He is impure. He shall dwell apart. Outside the camp shall his dwelling place be (Vayikra 13:46; translation adapted from Robert Alter). It is fascinating to note that the Torah emphasizes this person’s isolation – it tells us “he shall dwell apart” and then adds “outside the camp his dwelling place shall be.” Why is this case of impurity treated so severely? We might think it relates to him having some sort of disease. Yet, that is clearly not the issue because the Torah stipulates that the person is only declared impure after the Kohen makes that call. In fact, Rashi explains that from this we learn that a groom or someone celebrating the festivals may be declared impure at a later point in order to celebrate properly with others. If this person was being isolated due to potential contagion, then he should be isolated earlier! Rather, there is something deeper to this. Famously, tzara’at is attributed to telling lashon ha-ra; Miriam, who spoke lashon ha-ra about her brother Moshe, is the first person of note who apparently received this infection.

            What, then, is the purpose of isolation? Rashi, quoting the Gemara in Arachin, reminds us of the vice of lashon ha-ra. When we gossip or slander, when that gets around, it creates rifts. It can even separate family. This type of conversation is meant to create division. R. Zalman Sorotzkin, in Oznayim La-Torah, notes further that the disdain one has for another, demonstrated by the decision to slander, perhaps holds a disdain for society as a whole. As a result, midda k’neged midda, measure for measure, the person who gossips or slanders must experience a rift and be separated from society. It is a punishment but also serves a constructive purpose. Children are often punished with “time out,” during which they must be removed from their current situation for a short while (although in the mind of a child, it may feel like an eternity). A parent might say “go to your room and think about what you did.” Likewise, the meztora is isolated., so that while removed from society, this person no longer has the ability to slander or gossip. Hopefully, it serves as a time for introspection. As R. Sorotzkin writes, this time will teach one to love others, to love society, and to want to be part of a community, not to drive people apart.

            The second individual who must withdraw from society is the avel, the mourner, during shiva. Rabbi Maurice Lamm z”l points out that the word avel means “one who withdraws.” Why is the mourner required to withdraw? On the one hand, on a practical level, a mourner is supposed to focus on grieving, and therefore may neither engage in business nor be social for enjoyment. As a result, he or she stays home. On the other hand, Rabbi Lamm writes, “it has positive, curative value: mourning is an in-depth experience of loneliness. The ties that bind one soul to another have been severed, and there is a gnawing sense of solitude” (The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning, p. 105). Truthfully, we see a few similarities between a mourner and metzora. Both must grow their hair and rend their garments, and both are involved in the severing of relationships. However, they are different. The metzora causes the severing of relationships through his/her slander, while the mourner is on the receiving end of the severed relationship. It is perhaps telling that the Gemara in Arachin compares lashon ha-ra to murder! As a result, though, there are significant differences in the isolation of the metzora versus the mourner. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik z”l explains that the metzora is completely ostracized from the community and may not engage in socializing in any way. However, while the mourner is meant to isolate in order to deal with their grief, they are not supposed to be isolated truthfully at all. We engage in nichum aveilim by coming to the home of the mourners, visiting with and caring for them. While a mourner is “lonely” in a certain sense, the community does its best to make sure that he or she is not physically “alone” in their loneliness. This also explains an interesting pattern related to prayer for the metzora and mourner. A metzora may come to shul, but they must be separated by a mechitzah of four amot (approximately six feet – see Mishnah Negaim 13:12). Rabbi Naftali Baruch Spitzer explains that this is not just meant to prevent the passing of impurity; one would only need a mechitzah of ten tefachim for that. Rather, it is because the metzora must be completely alone. As Rabbi Joshua Flug points out, shul is a social place as well. The metzora may show up to daven, but they are socially not part of the community. However, the community specifically comes to the home of the mourner for prayer. The members of the community show their care for the mourners by giving them the opportunity to pray with others and to say kaddish surrounded by people who care about them. Especially when the mourner is the shaliach tzibbur, the mourners are the center of this prayer; they are not isolated during this experience, even if they do not leave their home for it. Likewise, although Hilkhot Nega’im and Hilkhot Avielut precede the creation of phones, it is obvious that the metzora who is isolated would not be allowed to have a phone, especially a smartphone. If anything, our most egregious gossip and slander occurs in the realms of Whatsapp, Facebook, and Twitter. The metzora can’t be allowed to get on the phone just to talk about people again. But the mourner, while not leaving their home, can be comforted through the means of phone calls, video chatting, and email in the event that a comforter cannot reach the home of the mourner.

            While our current quarantining and social distancing does not appear to result from the reasons that the metzora and mourner are withdrawn, we can learn from both of these archetypes at this time. The message that emerges from both of these individuals is the importance of supporting and caring for others. On the one hand, the metzora fails in this respect – his or her speech brings others down. On the other hand, the community’s role with the mourner is to provide that support. Whether through words or just through presence, the job of the menachem avel is to create a bond when one of the mourner’s primary bonds have been shattered. Our job, during this crisis, is to do that for everyone we can. On the one hand, we need to be extra careful during this time to avoid hurting others and isolating them more than they already are. On the other hand, checking in with those who are isolated and providing chizuk is the order of the day. Natan Sharansky gave some very useful tips for living apart from others – it is good to have a sense of humor, to have hobbies, and to remember our purpose in this scenario. But on a communal level, we must help each other realize that none of us is alone, and that we are here to make each other feel connected and supported. “Feel your connection and remember that you are not alone.”