To Nazir or Not to Nazir? It’s a Good Question

Have you ever met a nazir (Nazirite)?

I am guessing not. You don’t really find them today. The most recent, well-known nazir was Rabbi David Cohen (1887-1972), a student of Rav Kook who took a Nazirite vow at the outbreak of World War One and maintained a Nazirite lifecycle until the end of his life.

A nazir is a person who vows to consecrate themselves to God for a period of time, abstaining from wine and all grape products; hair cutting; and incurring ritual impurity by coming near a corpse, even if the body is one of their close relatives. The word literally means “separate,” and both men and women can become a nazir. At the conclusion of the Nazirite period, the individual brings a number of offerings to God, after which their hair is shaved. While it is technically possible to be a nazir today, it is not recommended since one really can’t stop being a nazir without a Beit Hamikdash.

It is good or bad to be a nazir?

The Torah does not make a direct evaluation of the Nazirite. On the one hand, the Torah calls the nazir “holy to God.” (Bamidbar 6:8) On the other hand, the Torah rules that, when the period comes to an end, the Nazirite must bring a sin offering, as if they had done something wrong. (6:13-14)

The Rabbis provide us with mixed messages on the merits of being a nazir.

The Rabbis (Nedarim 10a) declare the Nazirite a “chotei,” a sinner. It is unclear if the sin is in becoming a nazir or ceasing to be a nazir. On the one hand, becoming a nazir is misguided since abstaining from wine means being unable to celebrate with others, while avoiding corpses precludes being able to comfort the bereaved in difficult times. The nazir is mistaken in trying to escape the real world with its social interactions, celebrations, and sad occasions. Elsewhere (Ta’anit 11a), the nazir is called “kadosh,” a holy person, for striving to be more spiritual.

Rambam doesn’t resolve the confusion. In Hilchot Deot (3:1), he is critical of the nazir for choosing the path of abstinence:

“A person may say: ‘Desire, honor and the like are bad paths to follow and remove a person from the world, therefore I will completely separate myself from them and go to the other extreme.’ As a result, he does not eat meat or drink wine or take a wife or live in a decent house or wear decent clothing . . . This too is bad, and it is forbidden to choose this way.”

Yet in The Laws of the Nazirite (10:14) he takes a positive view of the nazir:

“Whoever vows to God to become a Nazirite by way of holiness, does well and is praiseworthy…Indeed Scripture considers him the equal of a prophet.”

So which is it? Is the nazir a saint or a sinner? Both.

Rabbi Yitzchak Caro, the 16^th century author of Toldot Yitzchak, wrote:

“On the one hand, the nazir is holy, while on the other hand he is a sinner. In terms of his soul, he his holy – for the soul is made more perfect through separation from the desires of this world, but the perfection of the body lies in not being separated from the desires of this world to an extreme, but rather by living in moderation: eating and drinking, consuming meat and imbibing wine as proper for the body's wellbeing.  Thus, in terms of the soul, the nazir is called ‘holy,’ while in terms of the body he is called a sinner.”

Let’s face it. Not everyone is cut out to be a nazir. Even those who choose the path, may have chosen the path in error. The nazir represents the challenge we each face in balancing our physical and spiritual lives. Judaism believes we can elevate the physical while also recognizing that the physical can get in the way of the spiritual. Different people will respond in different ways at different times. That’s OK and exactly what Rambam acknowledges by presenting the nazir in both lights.

Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Ropshitzer told his chasidim that before he was born, an angel appeared and showed him a tablet divided into two columns of contradictory Jewish statements.

On the right side it quoted the Talmudic saying, “The learned person should be a fiery furnace,” while on the left side was the quote, “The meek and lowly shall inherit the world to come.”

On the right side, “A person should be wise in their fear of God,” and on the left side, “You should be simple-hearted in your love of Hashem.”

On the right side: “God wants the heart,” and on the left side, “The heart of God’s people is corrupt and wayward.”

On the right, “In order to know the Torah, a man must have no compassion for his wife and children,” and on the left side, “He who pities people is pitied in Heaven.

The Rebbe pondered the contradictions until he heard a voice say “Mazal Tov, it’s a boy!”

We live with unresolved contradictions.

As we move forward from Shavuot, the celebration of receiving the Torah, our challenge is what do we do with it now. The Nazir represents the search for truth, integrity, and faith. Sometimes, we need to turn away and other times we need to lean in. Sometimes, we emphasize justice and sometimes mercy. Sometimes we strive for excellence, and sometimes we settle and regather our strength. We need not fear contradictions as long as we are ready to embrace our course of action.