Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Naso are available here and here.

Rav Kook: Three Different Thoughts on the Nazir

Orot haKodesh (6:22): It is true and correct that the way of moderation (lit. דרך הממוצע) is the path that leads to flourishing life. The avoidance of extremes is appropriate for the vast majority, in accordance with Divine wisdom and the Torah’s counsel. It is this path of moderation that the Torah refers to as “the way they [Israel] are to go and the practices they are to follow” (Shemot 18:20).

However, the spiritual character of humanity is such that extraordinary individuals, for whom the path of moderation is not fitting, are bound to emerge. These unique personalities perceive reality with a supernal, penetrating gaze. For them, a life of extreme asceticism (lit. פרישות) and purity is appropriate. While their journey, being unsuited for the masses, is a lonely one, it is undertaken [not out of elitism or hatred for the world, but rather] to bring supernal light to the entire community and uplift the entire world.

One might think that as a result of their austere and self-denying path, these spiritually elite personalities are unhappy, repressed and sickly, that life is a burden to them. The opposite is the truth. They are not lacking in fulfillment and satisfaction from life. On the contrary, they enjoy the richness of life to an even greater extent than the masses who follow the way of moderation.

These masters of extreme piety are an essential expression of Israel’s holiness and its ineffable spiritual character (lit. סגולת ישראל). Few are qualified to follow their path, but all Israel benefits greatly from their influence. These spiritual giants have done much to illuminate the darkness of raw and unrefined physical reality, to straighten that which is crooked, and bright us light in our dark exile.

Pinkasei ha’Reiah (1:164): Our Sages teach that the existence of teshuva preceded the creation of the world. A full and complete existence comes from living in accordance with our nature (lit. טבע), but our physical nature is unthinking and blind to the spiritual dimension of reality. Our desires and instincts can serve G-dly purposes, but they often distance us from G-d. In this regard, sin is an organic and inseparable part of our reality. To be human is to be liable to sin. “For there is not one righteous man on earth who does only what is good and never errs” (Kohelet 7:20). But G-d has given us a tool to repair what we break. This tool is teshuva.

But one might feel that this process of teshuva, of climbing out of the pit of sinfulness to return to G-d and His holiness, is too difficult and exhausting. If our physical nature is what makes us susceptible to sin, perhaps we should strive to negate it. Perhaps it is not sin that is our enemy, but rather life itself. Perhaps the road to spiritual flourishing runs through asceticism and self-denial.

To this, the Torah answers as a resounding “No!” It declares that the attempt to escape sin by negating life is the greatest possible sin. This is the lesson of the sin offering brought by the Nazirite, the individual who takes on a vow to abstain from wine. “The Kohen shall offer one [bird] as a sin offering… and atone on the Nazirite’s behalf for the guilt that he incurred by signing against his soul” (lit. מאשר חטא על הנפש) (Bamidbar 6:11).

For this reason, the very foundation of existence and the key to man’s ultimate freedom is teshuva. Thus has declared G-d, to whom Tanach [1] refers to for this very reason as “The G-d of Life” (lit. אלוקים חיים).

[1] Devarim 5:23; Shmuel Aleph 17:26 and 36; Yirmiyahu 10:10 and 23:36.

Shemonah Kevatzim (30:12): A Nazirite is considered a sinner for depriving himself of wine. Similarly, the Talmud Yerushalmi declares that a person must eventually give an accounting for every permitted pleasure that he denies himself, and that one of the Talmudic Sages would even save his ‘small change’ to purchase and eat various kinds of fruit. Apparently, there is religious value in developing one’s physical senses and connecting to G-d through experiences of physical pleasure.

It is even more true that one must give an accounting for failing to actualize their spiritual sensitivities. Allowing one’s spiritual faculties to languish in an unrefined and undeveloped state is a far more serious matter than missing out on exotic fruits. The soul is capable of deep thought and refined emotions. It can attain experiences of supernal delight that far exceed any physical pleasure in intensity and magnitude. One for whom this spiritual dimension of life is missing lives a frail, withered existence, regardless of the extent to which his capacity for physical pleasure has been sharpened and refined.

Food for Thought

Talmud Yerushalmi (Hagiga 2:1): This Torah is like two paths: one of fire, and the other of snow; Turn toward the one—die in the fire; turn to the other—die in the snow. What should one do? Walk in the middle.

Maimonides (Mishnah Torah, Hilchot De’ot 3:1): A person might say, “Since envy, desire, [the pursuit] of honor, and the like, are a wrong path and drive a person from the world, I shall separate from them to a very great degree and move away from them to the opposite extreme.” For example, he will not eat meat, nor drink wine, nor live in a pleasant home, nor wear fine clothing, but, rather, [wear] sackcloth and coarse wool and the like – just as the pagan priests do.

This, too, is a bad path and it is forbidden to walk upon it. Whoever follows this path is called a sinner [as implied by Numbers 6:11’s] statement concerning a nazarite: “and he [the priest] shall make an atonement for him, for his having sinned regarding [his] soul.” Our sages declared: If the nazarite who abstained only from wine requires atonement, how much more so does one who abstains from everything.

Therefore, our Sages directed man to abstain only from those things which the Torah denies him and not to forbid himself permitted things by vows and oaths [of abstention]. Thus, our Sages stated: Are not those things which the Torah has prohibited sufficient for you that you must forbid additional things to yourself?

This general statement also refers to those who fast constantly. They are not following a good path, [for] our Sages have forbidden a man to mortify himself by fasting. Of all the above, and their like, Solomon directed and said: “Do not be overly righteous and do not be overly clever; why make yourself desolate?” (Ecclesiastes 7:16).

The Kotzker Rebbe: You see, the two sides of the road are for human beings; only horses walk in the middle.

Ramban (Bamidbar 6:14): The reason why a Nazirite must bring a sin-offering has not been explained. In accordance with the plain meaning of Scripture, [it is because] this man sins against his soul on the day of completion of his Naziritehood; for until now he was separated in sanctity and the service of G-d, and he should therefore have remained separated forever, continuing all his life consecrated and sanctified to his G-d, as it is said “And I raised up of your sons for prophets, and of your young men for Nazirites” (Amos 2:11). We thus see that Scripture compares the Nazirite to a prophet. It is also written, “All the days of his Naziritehood he is holy unto the Eternal” (Bamidbar 6:8. Thus [when he completes his Naziritehood and returns to his normal life] he requires atonement, since he goes back to be defiled by [material] desires of the world.

Aish.com: In the twilight years of his life, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, the extraordinary leader of 19th century German Jewry, announced his plans to visit the Swiss Alps. When pressed for the reason behind planning so arduous a journey at his advanced age, Rabbi Hirsch replied, “I may have only a few years left, and when I stand before the Almighty on Judgment Day, I don’t want Him to ask me, ‘Shimshon, why didn’t you see My Alps?'”

Rav Yuval Cherlow (The Divine Image): Living this type of spiritual life is no simple task. In Man’s mind, his constant yearning to see G-d’s face demands a life of asceticism and monasticism. The body is a burden, and life’s desires are an encumbrance. Engaging with physical reality creates a sense of distance from the divine purity of the world of faith and religious thought. The transience of matter and recurring experiences raise profound thoughts of “vanity of vanities; all is vanity?’ Moral failings, resulting from excessive desires, generate an aversion to constant contact with these desires. Other matters push Man towards a dichotomous understanding, which distances him from the vitality of natural life found in the world around him. Furthermore, it is easier to find spiritual life at the extremes than to experience a constant tug-of-war between two forces.

Questions for Discussion/Further Thought

1. What exactly does “moderation” mean? Are we supposed to be only “moderately” committed to Torah values? Only “moderately” good at our mitzvah observance?
2. Rav Kook writes that when elite individuals adopt an extreme/ascetic approach to life, it brings light and inspiration to broader community. In what way is this true?
3. Where in the Torah and halacha do we find a positive attitude to human life?
4. What famous statement of the Sages uses the phrase אלוקים חיים?
5. If a Nazirite is a sinner, why does the Torah allow for this institution in the first place?
6. Does our community have a healthy attitude toward permitted pleasures?

Printable PDF available here.

Introductory Comments

(Ramban, adapted by Rabbi David Sedley)

The second half of this week’s Torah portion describes the offerings that the Princes of Israel brought to the Mishkan on the day that it was established. The Torah writes: “And it was that on the day that Moses finished erecting the Mishkan, he anointed it, sanctified it, and all its vessels, and the altar and all its vessels. The Princes of Israel, the heads of their fathers’ houses, presented [their offerings]. They were the leaders of the tribes…” (Bamidbar 7:1-2) The subsequent verses continue this thread and describe in specific detail the sacrifices that each Prince brought –- even though every Prince brought the exact same kind of offering. The result is that there is a block of verses in the Torah essentially repeating the same information twelve consecutive times. Because the Torah is normally concise with its wording, a clear question arises: why repeat the details for each Prince individually, and what is the deeper message that can be gleaned by the repetition?

To this question, the Ramban answers, based on the Midrash, that while the content of the offerings were the same, the essence of each was different. Each Prince brought his offering with unique meaning and intent which represented the individualized mission of his particular tribe. Despite the fact that on the surface each offering was the same, since the gift was defined by the unique intent of the particular Prince who offered it, in reality no two offerings were alike. The Ramban concludes that this is in fact the reason why the Torah records each Prince’s offering separately: to highlight the message that over and above outward appearances of uniformity, it is the internal intent and individuality of a person which is paramount.

Rav Kook (Orot haTorah, 9:6)

Some people leave Torah observance because they were taught an approach to Torah study and religious development that ignores their particular personality and unique temperaments. One person may be passionate about study of aggadah or midrashic matters, and is not able to make halacha the central focus of his studies. Because this person does not recognize his unique talents, he throws himself into study of halacha, which others expected of him by default. But his soul is resistant.

If this person would find the discipline of Torah that he is uniquely drawn to, he would realize that his unease in studying halacha is not a reflection of a blemish or shortcoming in the Torah, but simply because his soul is drawn to another of the Torah’s many disciplines.

Such a person would then be able to engage in productive study in the area of Torah that illuminates his soul. He will remain faithful to the Jewish people and the holiness of Torah. His fruitfulness in matters of aggadah will aid those other Jews who concentrate in halacha, and he will share with them the pleasantness of the inner world of Jewish thought. But too often, such a person fails to recognize the root cause of his unease in studying halacha. He forces himself to go against his nature, and eventually comes to experience Torah and Torah study as something painful and disagreeable. Spiritually suffocated, he flees as soon as the gates of the wider world are opened, and leaves the Torah behind.

The same dynamic applies regarding the quantity of a person’s Torah study. Even if a person ‘diversifies’ his Torah curriculum and supplements halacha with other disciplines, he is not necessarily cut out to study Torah to the exclusion of derech eretz, i.e. productive labor and worldly endeavors. Each person must know his individual spiritual temperament, and engage in Torah study in a way that suits his unique nature.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Commentary on the Torah, Bereishit 25:27): As long as Ya’akov and Esav were little, no attention was paid to the slumbering differences in their natures, both had exactly the same teaching and educational treatment, and the great law of education חנוך לנער על פי דרכו “bring up each child in accordance with its own way” was forgot­ten. The great Jewish task in life is basically simple, one and the same for all, but in its realization is as complicated and varied as human natures and tendencies are varied, and the manifold varieties of life that result from them.

To try to bring up a Jacob and an Esau in the same manner, make them have the same habits and hobbies, want to teach and educate them in the same way for some studious, sedate, meditative life is the surest way to court disaster. A Jacob will, with ever increasing zeal and zest, imbibe knowledge from the well of wisdom and truth, while an Esau can hardly wait for the time when he can throw the old books, but at the same time, a whole purpose of life, behind his back, a life of which he has only learnt to know from one angle, and in a manner for which he can find no disposition in his whole nature.

Had Isaac and Rebecca studied Esau’s nature and character early enough, and asked themselves, how can even an Esau, how can all the strength and energy, agility and courage that lies slumbering in this child be won over to be used in the service of G-d … then Jacob and Esau, with their totally different natures could still have remained twin­ brothers in spirit and life; quite early in life Esau’s “sword” and Jacob’s “spirit” could have worked hand in hand, and who can say what a different aspect the whole history of the ages might have presented. But, as it was, only when the boys had grown into men, one was surprised to see that, out of one and the same womb, having had exactly the same care, training and schooling, two such contrasting persons emerge.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation (Vayelech, 5780): At the end of his life, having given the Israelites at G-d’s behest 612 commands, Moses gave them the final mitzvah: “Now therefore write down for yourselves this song and teach it to the people of Israel. Put it in their mouths, that this song may be My witness against the people of Israel” (Deut. 31:19)… Oral Tradition [understands this] as a command for every Jew to write, or at least take some part in writing, a Sefer Torah… What, though – if we take the command to refer to the whole Torah and not just one chapter – is the significance of the word “song” (shira): “Now therefore write down for yourselves this song”? The word shiraappears five times in this passage. It is clearly a key word. Why?…

Rabbi Yehiel Michael Epstein in the introduction to the Arukh ha-Shulchan, Choshen Mishpat, writes that the Torah is compared to a song because, to those who appreciate music, the most beautiful choral sound is a complex harmony with many different voices singing different notes. So, he says, it is with the Torah and its myriad commentaries, its “seventy faces.” Judaism is a choral symphony scored for many voices, the written text its melody, the oral tradition its polyphony…

By Faith Alone: The Story of Rabbi Yehuda Amital:The open-mindedness that Rav Amital exhibited with regard to shiurim also characterized his attitude toward the substance of what his students were learning. When he identified certain students’ need to diverge from the regular framework – for instance, to limit their study of Talmud in favor of other disciplines – he understood and supported them. One such student was Yosef Avivi, a member of the yeshiva’s second class and now a scholar of Kabbala: “Rav Amital allowed me to study whatever I wanted. At first, during the afternoon break, I studied the Shelah – R. Yeshaya HaLevi Horowitz’s Shenei Luhot HaBerit. He knew, but did not object. Slowly but surely, these subjects began to fill my regular sedarim (study sessions), not just break times, until my entire afternoon and evening sedarim were spent studying books that could not be found on many desks in the yeshiva. Rav Amital knew of this, and encouraged me.” Avivi once told Rav Amital about a certain work that he had seen in manuscript at the National Library and wished to edit, but could not due to lack of funds for the large amount of photocopying it would entail. Rav Amital granted Avivi some financial assistance from a discretionary fund of his and encouraged him to work on the manuscript. “More than the financial assistance,” Avivi says, “he provided spiritual assistance and support. Rav Amital’s enthusiasm encouraged me to review the manuscripts; all of my work, from then until now, is because of him, and to his credit.” In the introduction to a work published in 1977, Avivi wrote: “My gratitude and appreciation goes to the Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital, who allowed me to study my part of the Torah and did not impose the yeshiva’s framework on me….”

Rav Amital also allowed a student from the yeshiva’s first class, Asher Yaron, who later fell in the Yom Kippur War, to take university courses as a member of the Kollel in the yeshiva. This was quite an exceptional arrangement in the yeshiva world at the time. Yaron studied mathematics at Hebrew University in the morning and then diligently studied Torah in the beit midrash every afternoon.

At the same time, Rav Amital limited his openness to the desires of his students only to instances where he felt that there was a real need that justified deviating from the norm. When he felt that there was no such justification, he did not hesitate to rebuke those who independently adopted a schedule that differed from their peers’ or spent their time on unusual learning material. He once caught – and castigated – a first-year student devoting the majority of his morning seder to the study of Rav Kook’s Orot HaKodesh. If that student would revert to Talmud study in the wake of the rebuke, Rav Amital said, it indicates that he did not really need to study Orot HaKodesh. And if he would persist with what he was doing despite the reprimands, then apparently it was a real need, in which case Rav Amital would let him continue.

Questions for Discussion/Further Thought

1. How does a person discover what portion of the Torah they are suited to study? How much they are suited to study?
2. How do we a create space for ‘spiritual differentiation’ in our communities? In our schools? In our families?
3. In terms of how your unique self finds religious expression, can you think of religiously observant friends/family members who are the polar opposite of you?
4. Why is it important to study halacha?
5. See Rav Hirsch’s comments above. Is his reading of the Ya’akov/Esav story compelling? Why or why not?
6. In a recent piece on the day school tuition crisis, one writer has noted that “The pressure to produce high earners discourages and marginalizes those members of the community whose calling is in music, literature, the visual arts, or the performing arts. The problem is not only that creative types will likely be unable to afford the Modern Orthodox lifestyle; the community itself tends to marginalize those who pursue artistic careers, viewing them as irresponsible. Some creative types will gravitate toward the rabbinate or Jewish education, careers that can offer a creative outlet, financial incentive in the form of tuition reductions, and social acceptability. Many will either give in to the pressure to pursue a stable, lucrative career, or leave Orthodoxy behind.” Discuss this problem in light of Rav Kook’s comments.
7. What area of Torah study are you attracted to? If you haven’t found one yet, what areas haven’t you explored?