Gregarious monasticism: Naso 5784

The idea of the nazir always raises questions and problems, since monasticism is certainly not a basic Jewish value. Just the opposite seems to be true from the ideas and statements of the rabbis in the Talmud and from Jewish behavioral patterns over the centuries.

 Jewish society, in its divisions and manifestations, is vitally and socially gregarious to the extreme, with a brashness of involvement in all fields of human endeavor, thought and progress. Yet the Torah describes for us in vivid detail the need for some form of withdrawal, be it permanent or temporary, from Jewish life and social activity.  However, even the restrictions on a nazir are not intended to separate him from active participation in communal life.

 Shimshon, the prime example of the nazir in our Tanach, is nevertheless the leader of Israel, its chief judge and commanding warrior. Halachic restrictions are placed upon the nazir, but locking oneself away from Jewish society is certainly not one of them. There are restrictions regarding retaining purity and cutting one’s hair, avoiding any sorts of defilement and on consuming wine and related produce. These restrictions, among others. remind the nazir of his special status, but he is still an active member of society at large, in all senses of participation in normal human life. If anything, a nazir now becomes a model for others who may seek to achieve probity and purity in a world of the impure and the sometimes wicked. So, even though the rabbis are not happy with someone becoming a nazir, nezirim and nezirut are a necessary piece of the human puzzle that the Torah describes for us.

 The Talmud also teaches us that the impetus to become a nazir is itself societal. This is because it stems not from the inner wish of the individual to forego certain pleasures and norms of life, but rather from the wish for a protective shield from the dissoluteness and licentiousness of the surrounding society. Apparently, in a perfect world, the concept of nezirut would be unnecessary. But the Torah sees human life, even Jewish life, as it really is in our imperfect world and not as it should somehow be. That is why the nazir becomes a necessary ingredient in our Torah society. 

Over the ages some outstanding people have chosen the way of the nazir for themselves. However, the reticence of the rabbis and Jewish tradition on this matter has prevented nezirut from becoming widespread or even accepted behavior. The Torah does not seek to impose burdens upon one’s life as much as it intends to guide and temper our choices and behavior within the framework of a complete and wholesome lifestyle. This is also part of the lesson of the parsha of nazir for us. In essence, by knowing that becoming a nazir is an acceptable last resort in dealing with immorality and heartbreak, we can avoid this by living daily according to Torah precepts and values, shunning foreign and immoral influences in our lives and communities.

 Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein