In this week’s Torah portion, Naso, we receive two new laws. First, is the law of Sotah, a process in which women accused of adultery are given a special water that will prove whether they are innocent or guilty, then the Nazirite, someone who has taken a special oath to not drink alcohol, cut their hair, or go near a dead body.
The ordeal of Sotah can be quite scary, as the woman that is found guilty has her thighs and belly swell, which most authorities say means she dies prematurely. The innocent woman, however, receives blessings, perhaps as recompense for the horribly embarrassing experience of being forced to prove her innocence before the community. None of us are likely to be comfortable with the idea that a woman should die for adultery, but the Torah has a tendency to be pretty black and white. The fact is, adultery is extremely black.
When a person is unfaithful to their partner, they are committing a terrible crime against the person who loves them. Many of us have seen the results of adultery, whether we’ve experienced it ourselves or have known others affected by it. The pain it causes is crippling. The Torah teaches that when a couple comes together, it is as if they have become one flesh (Genesis 2:24). A true relationship of love takes on a life of its own. Adultery destroys that relationship, murdering the life the couple had formed together.
Though everyone’s situation is different and we honestly can’t say for sure why people cheat, I would say that most cases come down to a person’s inablitly to control their sexual desires. This brings us to the next law, that of the Nazirite.
The Nazirite is essentially the opposite of the Sotah. Whereas the Sotah was allegedly unable to control her physical, carnal desire, the Nazirite, unable to drink wine, is the closest thing to an ascetic in Judaism. For those who have grown up involved in Jewish rituals, the idea of not being allowed to drink wine sounds ludicrous. Wine is great, Jews drink it all the time, we even sanctify holidays with it. Wine equals joy, and, considering our history, we could use a little joy in our lives .
If you’ve done your time on college campuses, though, you know that alcohol has a dangerous side to it. Some act like idiots when they have too much “joy” in them, others need to get rid of a little bit of that joy through building a relationship with the porcelain throne, and a few let the “joy” turn into sorrow. Come on, who hasn’t seen it, especially when tequila is involved?
This, according to the medieval commentator and possible winemaker Rashi, is exactly why the laws of the Nazirite follow the laws of the Sotah. Wine leads to adultery, which makes me wonder why Rashi made a living off making it. Adultery is usually the result of poor self-control, which makes becoming a Nazirite the prefect remedy. Nazirites aren’t just forbidden from drinking alcohol, they are also not allowed to cut their hair or be near the dead. Imagine not being able to cut your hair, even if you start growing an epic Jewfro that people laugh at, you still can’t cut it. Becoming a Nazirite patience and humility, and it gets even harder as time goes on. As for avoiding the dead, this isn’t just dead people, its all dead things. Such a restriction, especially in a time where we didn’t have the health and sanitation that we have today, requires a state of mindfulness. It’s this mindfulness that can help us keep from acting in ways that we know we shouldn’t.
So why don’t we all just become Nazirites, cutting out wine while not cutting our hair? The Torah has an important lesson hidden within the Nazirite laws. At the end of their Nazirite period, a person is required to bring a sin-offering. Why does becoming a Nazirite entail committing a sin? If someone handed you a present, and you handed it right back, it would be pretty insulting, right? Refusing to partake in something that God has given us, and allowed us to enjoy, is essentially rejecting God’s gift.
By stating that the law of the Nazir brings with it a transgression, the Torah is telling us to actually go out and enjoy ourselves; if we don’t take advantage of the opportunities and gifts we have, we can never learn to appreciate our lives.
Moreover, we must remember that, black-and-white as the Torah tends to be, the case of the Nazirite is actually one of the few in which things are gray. Becoming a Nazir is given as a law, and Nazirites are taking the oath for the sake of God, yet in doing so they are committing a transgression against God. God seems indecisive here: Do this! No, wait! Don’t!
The laws of the Nazirite don’t come with any qualifications, there is no rule on when someone should take the oath. That’s because it is up to us to decide when, if at all, it is necessary for us to take a step back.
Life should be beautiful, and we should seek to appreciate all it’s gifts, but if we aren’t careful, we can turn the beauty into ugliness, the gifts into curses. At times we may need to stop and look into ourselves—are we allowing the pursuit of pleasure to have a negative effect on us? If so, it might be time to take time off to learn how to control ourselves.
(David’s hangover tip: Drink water between the booze, and an orange juice mixed with a raw egg the next morning.)
David Gutbezahl is a student at Gratz College.
