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This person sins when forsaking the vows of abstinence, when the days of separation are fulfilled. The person had separated to be holy unto God and by rights should always continue to live a life of holiness and separation to God... Now, returning to be defiled with worldly passions, the person requires atonement.
Nachmanides
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This week's parasha Naso includes the famous threefold priestly benediction (see archives), as well as the procedure for a woman suspected of adultery. (The procedure for the woman-- called Sotah in Hebrew-- involved drinking specially prepared bitter water; insert your own joke for 'sotah water' here). This week we also learn of the nazirite, a person who takes a vow to abstain from wine and other intoxicants. The rabbis connect the two passages by suggesting that in fact, it was because of alcohol consumption that the woman sinned. Of course, the most famous nazirite in the Bible was Samson, and the narrative of Samson's birth is the haftarah assigned to this week. Less known is that the prophet Samuel was also a nazirite. There is a tractate in the Talmud called 'nazir' that deals with the laws that relate to nazirites, and mentions Queen Helen of Adiabene who was a convert to Judaism and took a vow to be a nazirite. Note that both men and women could become nazirites. The practice was only followed in the land of Israel and was discontinued after the destruction of the Temple.
But what was a nazirite? The Hebrew word comes from a root that means to separate or dedicate oneself. Nazirites were individuals who chose to set themselves apart for God. They were prohibited from cutting their hair, having contact with the dead, and as mentioned above, from consuming grape products. Grapes and even raisins were prohibited, and although I think that's a bit extreme, it is an example of what Judaism calls 'a fence (or hedge) around the Torah' (Pirkei Avot 1:1) In Jewish law, we create 'safety zones' so we avoid crossing a boundary by not even approaching it (lighting Shabbat candles 18 minutes before sunset is a classic example). For example, we don't just tell a three year old, "Don't insert [only] metal objects into electrical sockets" but rather, "Don't touch [overly cautious parents say: Don't go near} the socket." But we can get carried away with these safety zones. Technically, we are not allowed to build a fence around a fence. Only one fence (see Re'eh 5764). In actual practice, Jews have often wanted to err on the side of caution.
Is the nazirite, in fact, 'getting carried away?' Generally, the nazirite is thought of as a holy individual, ("For he shall be holy, holy to Adonai," Lev. 6:8) so we might be surprised by the fact that the nazirite must bring a sin offering at the conclusion of his period of separation (Lev. 6:14). What was the nazirite's sin? Is it for giving up pleasure, or returning to the world of pleasure? According to some rabbis, forgoing any permissible pleasures is a sin. Some of us find there are too many restrictions in Judaism already, and have trouble following them without making up new ones! The Sages say: "Is it not sufficient for you to abstain from what the Torah has forbidden, that you seek to forbid yourself other things as well?!" We are encouraged to enjoy life within certain parameters. In Judaism, there is no need to be an ascetic. One High Priest (Simon the Just) didn't eat offerings brought by nazirites because he felt a nazirite's vows were made either in a moment of extreme guilt or excessive enthusiasm.
On the other hand, according to the Ramban, the nazirite brings a sin offering at the conclusion of being a nazirite, for returning to the world of pleasure and forsaking the nazirite vow. After all, we are commanded to be holy. Holiness is our goal, and the nazirite is holy. It is therefore an ideal we must all aspire to. Some argue that a few individuals who strive for a higher bar, and who commit themselves to a more strenuous religious regimen enhance the strength of the entire community. Maybe the restrictions in Judaism are the bare minimum, and if you have the inclination, you can (and should) be more stringent in your practice.
The world of pleasure is not a sin, unless you have no self control. Then, perhaps, it's better to avoid temptation altogether. According to Solomon Astruc, the life of self-indulgence preceded (and led) to a vow of abstinence. The RaMa (Moses Isserles) similarly suggests, "The nazirite was only commanded to abstain in order to achieve a good purpose, the attainment of the middle way." For Maimonides, too, Judaism is about the middle way. Not denying pleasure, but not being a hedonist, either. Perhaps some people have to lean far to one side to correct a life or tendency that pulls them to the other. Certainly we are bombarded by a media that encourages us to be very un-nazir-like, but do we need to withdraw to a hermit-like existence to counter-act that message?
Lessons for Today
Holy saint, or obssessive-compulsive? There is an actual medical condition called scrupulosity that Jennifer Traig has written about in The Devil in the Details: Scenes From an Obsessive Girlhood. Although her quirky account about growing up with (and out of) this obssessive-compulsive disorder is at times humourous, it is not hard to see that it is a serious mental illness. Her experience raises the questions, What is piety? And where is the line that separates it from pathology?
Exploring spirituality is not pathological; in normative Judaism observance should not be an obssession. There is no need for extremism in religion. Some of us share the commentators' ambivalence about the enthusiasm of the nazirite. On the one hand, we can admire their religious zeal, yet we are also suspicious of the extremism and fanaticism that often accompany such religious fervour.
Shabbat Shalom
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