2021/5781

“Kol Yemei Nizro Kadosh Hu LaHashem,” “throughout his term of Nezirut, he is sanctified to Hashem” (BeMidbar 6:8). The standard reading of the Pesukim concerning the Nazir found in this week’s Parashah come to teach the following essential insights into the nature of a Nazirite vow: 1) that the Nazir abstains from haircutting and wine; 2) that he distance himself from Tumat Met, defilement by a corpse, without exception for anyone; 3) that he brings - in the event he should become Tamei during the period of his vow - all the prescribed Korbanot for becoming Tumat Met; and finally 4) that he bring the prescribed set of Korbanot upon the completion of his vow. In probing the nature of a Nazir’s vow, it is plainly understood from the aforementioned Pasuk that such heavy asceticism is in order to be “Kadosh Hu LaHashem.” Yet it is striking that despite such religious devotion found in the Nazir’s asceticism, we find that among the Korbanot prescribed upon his (or her) completion of the vow he must bring, “Achat Bat Shnatah Temimah LiChatat,” “one unblemished ewe in its first year as a sin offering” (ibid. 6:14). There is - despite the ostensibly simple reading of the Pesukim regarding Nezirut - an apparent paradox inherent in the fact that despite our Pesukim relating the Nazir’s elevated spiritual status, that he must bring a Korban Chatat at the completion of said status’ related vow of asceticism. 

An academic bible scholar or critic would perhaps see this as evidence for remonstrance against the Torah, noting that in the realm of contemporary (and dating back to ancient) metaphysics (and indeed some true mathematics and physics), the presentation of a paradox is simply indicative of a body or statement’s subjectivity, concluding that the paradox of Nezirut is demonstrative of the Torah’s man-made rules and thus not a reflection of any divine hand in it. However, we find that despite the seeming presentation of said paradox, it is only pointed outwardly toward the individual who accepts the Nazirite vow, isolating itself in principle from the Torah’s divine presentation. [1] As Ramban (ibid., s.v. VeChabshah Achat Bat Shnatah Temimah LiChatat) notes, there is no formal explanation for the Chatat on account of a Nazir’s completed vow in the Pesukim, or in the classical commentaries. Indeed the only account given as to explain the Chatat is only given by Rashi and Ibn Ezra on the separate incident of accidental Tumat Met, which requires its own Chatat. And so, Ramban is perplexed as to what the underlying purpose behind the Chatat presented in our Pasuk is, for once again, we must ask how one may bring a Chatat for something that is a Mitzvah and brings one closer to God? We may present three approaches to the resolution of our conflict of the Nazir: the first approach understands our Chatat from the perspective of Ramban, carefully noting the special holiness of such an opportunity like that of Nezirut. The second approach is a brief exploration of the Ma’amarei Chazal found in Masechet and the concept of the Halachic Man in the eyes of Rav Soloveitchik. And finally, we present a blend of both approaches.

We may ask the question of what drives one to become a Nazir in the first place? Certainly, to remove oneself from nearly all hedonic pleasures in order to cleave to God is a truly lofty ideal. Likewise, according to Ramban (ad loc.), the need for a Korban Chatat is brought on by the fact that the conclusion period of Nezirut is, in itself, significant of the former Nazir’s turning away from the uniquely special holiness and service of Hashem manifested in the vow. And thus, Ramban is puzzled by the fact that one only adopts Nezirut for a short period, as, in truth, it would have been more proper for him to have vowed Nezirut forever as a means of holding onto that special Kedushah inherent. It is exactly because the Nazir breaks his vow at a later point in time that requires the Chatat, for he is atoning for his return to the contamination of the world and his desires. Yet, this is not entirely surprising in the eyes of Rav Yehuda Amital, Rosh Yeshivat Har Etzion, who saw the period of Nezirut as exemplary of a most extreme and uncommon form of behavior. Rav Amital [2] noted that typically, the Nazir status was reserved for individuals who felt mentally oppressed by the hedonistic materialism of the lifestyles around them, thus having sought to separate themselves from said lifestyle to achieve a mindful and spiritual balance. This understanding, according to Rav Amital, would have been perfectly congruent with the prescription of Rambam in Shemoneh Perakim. The ideal of the Nazir is not simply (or at least not singularly) to cleave to God necessarily but to find a path to Him through the process of isolation from distracting influences. [3] Much like in the mixing of acids and bases, one may achieve a pH balance, by going to an extreme, the one who takes on the period of Nezirut reinvigorates and recharges their Neshamah, returning them to the middle path. However, we are left puzzled as to how it can be, that with such good intentions of the Neshamah such as the Nazir as portrayed by Rav Amital here, that we find him guilty of Cheit and in need of a Korban. For this, we must tap into the nature of what constitutes a Halachic man.

What separates the Halachic man from that of the famed homo religiosus in the conception of the Rav? Is not Halachic man the arbiter of the creative realm, the being who seeks not to transcend and rise to God and the heavenly realm, but to bring down and infuse the materialistic and finite one with His likeness through his use and innovation (Chiddush) of Halachah, bridging the actual with the ideal? He is exactly that, and more. Yet, if we are to conceive of a Nazir in such a manner, holding him rigorously accountable to such standards, we find an additional paradox to the one previously mentioned. The Nazir, in seeking to cleave to God, simultaneously sheds his Halachic obligations to mankind (ie. the community) and to himself (e.g. haircutting and drinking wine, which may prove Halachically required if not highly suggested at certain dates on the calendar), thus transforming from an Ish Halachah to a homo religiosus, from a being grounded in the realm of objectivity to one concerned only with transcendence. Such an individual, while notably commendable in the eyes of the Chachamim, is certainly in violation of not only certain Halachic principles concerning day to day life but also in violation of the entire concept of Halachah as a force meant for the benefit of the temporal man in the realm of the here-and-now, finite reality. 

In the words of Rabi Tzadok, the Nazir has violated the principle of “Al Tifrosh Min HaTzibur,” “do not separate yourself from the community” (Avot 4:7). In consideration of this Mishnah, the separation of the Nazir from worldly pleasures and pursuits is theoretically the key factor in his being charged with bringing a Korban Chatat. The essence of a Nazir’s punishment serves as both condemnation and commendation of his behavior, reminding him of the importance to be a part of the community, where he can contribute the most to the Jewish people while growing his Neshamah. Characteristically speaking, we find that despite the pure intentions of the Nazir and what he is trying to accomplish - to become closer to God through asceticism - he has sinned in that he not only has denied himself pleasures and aspects of personal and communal life central to Halachah, but has concomitantly demonstrated his weakness of character (of Hashkafah, even) by having to force himself into an extreme vow such as that of the Nazir, and by reverting to his unsanctified lifestyle which led to his deficiency of character in the first place. And so we return to our original paradox with the conclusion that it is not paradoxical on account of the Torah’s account of the Nazir, but rather so on account of his individual choice between Kedushah and materialism, extremism and centrism. For these reasons, we may come to understand the nature of the Korban Chatat asked of the Nazir and may reflect on its communal and personal implications for our own lives today as we no longer enjoy the luxury of a Korban for personal misgivings, regardless of intentions.

[1]  It should be clarified that despite the counter-argument that may state that the Torah is indeed a “human” document based on this paradox, and many others, that this may indeed may only be the case outwardly, particularly as the Torah notably speaks in the language of the common (and likely, simple-minded) men (TB Zevachim 108b). For further exploration of this concept, see Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, Collected Writings vol. 7 p. 57.

[2] The english translation of the Derashah can be found here: https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/torah/sefer-bamidbar/parashat-naso/fear-heaven-and-fear-sin 

[3] This position is not held by all, however, as is reflected by a position of Rav Kook which Rav Amital mentions to focus more on social rather than personal balance. Additionally, it is interesting to note, however, that a famous example of a Tzaddik who took on the Nazirite vow was none other than Rav David Cohen (also known as “HaRav HaNazir”), the most famous disciple of Rav Kook, and father of Rav Shear Yashuv Cohen, Chief Rabbi of Haifa from 1975-2011.