The Nazarite - A Shabbat Message

 

You’ve heard me say that this week’s Torah reading is the longest of the year.

You’ve heard me say that this Torah reading has many different stories and concerns, far more that most Parshiyot.

But what you haven’t heard me say in a long time is anything about one of the most significant aspects of this week’s Torah reading, yet one that did not survive the destruction of the Second Temple. It is the Nazir, or in English often known as the Nazarite.

The term itself is shrouded in mystery and actually confuses people. Take for example, the church across the street from the JCCP/CBT – Maranatha Church – the Church of the Nazarene. Most people think Nazarene must refer to the Nazarite. But actually, it refers to the hometown of the Jew they believe is their savior, which is Nazareth. I don’t want this to be taken the wrong way, but I’m not sure how many people who attend that church know that. Did you?

What was the Nazir? According to Chapter 6 of BaMidbar, a Nazir was a person who took upon themselves a neder, a special type of vow which specifically mentions God’s holy name, for a distinct period of time – usually 30 days - to abstain from certain physical pleasures. They included refraining drinking any wine or any products made from grapes, avoiding any and all contact with the dead, and most famously refraining from cutting their hair.

Why would a person take these special vows, especially when the mitzvot in general, and those of the previous book of Leviticus in particular, allow for every Jew to achieve holiness? Was it an expression of fanaticism, or perhaps a check on fanaticism by limiting this seeming ultra-piety to a distinct time period? Theories abound.

There is a striking similarity between the temporary responsibilities of a Nazarite and a Cohen. A Nazir is prohibited from drinking wine for the duration of his vow, and a Cohen is prohibited from the same when serving in the Temple. The Nazir may not cut his hair, while the Cohen must not let his hair grow long. The great biblical commentator Abrabanel suggests that the laws of the Nazir are located in this section of the Torah because having defined the distinctions between the lay community and the Cohanim and Levites, there was also a mechanism for those who sought to achieve for themselves a level of holiness akin to the priests, but only for a temporary period. This was a personal choice, and no one was ever obligated to become a Nazir. Given the sacrifices that accompany the Nazarite’s vow, Maimonides suggests that the Nazarite may have taken such vows to atone for a serious error or sin. That is to say, they wanted to take on a period of penance, if you will, marked by a more stringent approach to observance.

Like I said, this institution did not survive the destruction of the Temple. Indeed, its smacks of the type of ascetic tendencies that our Rabbi’s frowned upon. Yet it proved highly influential nonetheless.  And there is no doubt that it was a wide spread phenomenon. Women also participated. There are references to it in the later books of the Torah as well as the Talmud. And we know it proved highly influential in the early stages of Christianity, which early in its history institutionalized the view that to achieve holiness one must deny themselves the “pleasures of the flesh.”

The laws of the Nazir tell an interesting story about the religious needs of our ancestors and the various ways they sought to fulfill them. They remind us of the age-old Jewish truth that our religious experience is more often defined by what we don’t do, that which we actively refrain from doing, as opposed to what we actually do. And though the answers in each generation certainly change, the laws of the Nazir address the never-ending question. Do we want to feel closer to God? And if so, what must we do and not do to actually get there?

Shabbat Shalom