When I lived in New York, I biked all around the city. I counted blocks as I biked, knowing how many blocks I had passed and how many more until I arrived at my destination. There was something rhythmic about this practice as I wove through traffic. The counting would offer a sense of order amidst the chaos of New York streets.
The counting in this week’s parashah of Metzora is only a little different. The parashah discusses various temporary bodily conditions - like the zav or zava. The zav/zava is an individual who had abnormal discharge from their body, and the Torah describes that they separate from those around them and count seven clean days before they wash themselves, offer a sacrifice, and then re-enter the community with the ritual assistance of the priest.
I imagine this to be a painful process for the individual as they have to separate from their community. I’m interested in the very first instruction that the zav receives. They are supposed to count seven days. The Torah says specifically v’safar lo - they count for themselves. They are asked to mark time after the Torah deems them impure.
Rabbi Yaffa Epstein points out that this commandment to mark time, to count down days, is only found in two other places in the Torah. One of them is regarding the Jubilee year, ‘count for yourselves seven Shabbatot of years for you.’ The second is the counting of the Omer, which we are quickly approaching. ‘Usfartem lakhem - count for yourselves seven complete weeks.’
In all of these cases, the Torah makes it clear that the counting is for us; it’s a personal counting. Each day of the counting matters for us. The discipline of counting offers us a spiritual practice. Marking each day as a unique unit offers us a structure in understanding the passage of time and offers us a way to be active participants in it. Counting reminds us, like the zav in their seven days away, that the passage of time changes our circumstances.
But the zav or zava was in a difficult moment. They were ostracized from their community and deemed ritually impure, waiting to return. Perhaps counting the days is a reminder that time doesn’t happen without them despite their current status; they still matter, they are still an important part of the world. Every day counts for each person. Every moment, hour, day, is an opportunity for every person. Counting is a practice offered to each of us to prevent us from reverting into a state of apathy and from thinking we don’t matter. When we count, we move forward. When we count, I hope we can see how we might be moving further away from slavery, closer to the redemption that is waiting for each of us.
