Parashat Ekev: Safeguarding the Orchard

This week’s Parashah of Ekev contains some of the Torah’s most beautiful descriptions of the Land of Israel and its produce:

For the Lord is bringing you into a good land, a land of streams and springs and deep waters gushing out to the valleys and the hills, a land of wheat and barley, vines, fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive oil and honey, a land where bread will not be scarce, where you will lack nothing, a land where the rocks are iron and where you can hew bronze from her hills.  And when you are satisfied, you shall bless the Lord, your G-d for the good land that He has given you.  (Devarim 8.7-11)

When I recall my many visits to Israel, my memories are flooded by wondrous sights which include the Banias waterfall in the Golan, the lush vegetation of Ein Gedi in the Judean Desert, the drive through the multicoloured patchwork of land that encompasses the Jezreel Valley and the  blossoming almond trees that line the Ayalon highway in the Shefelah (the flat region which follows the Mediterranean shore).

If you’ve travelled around Israel, I’m sure that you can think of many more beautiful vistas.

And then there’s the produce.  Think about the last time you bit into a chunk of juicy, sunbaked watermelon from a giant organism that could be used as a wrecking ball in house demolitions - the one you picked up at the Carmel Market.  You don’t forget that flavour!

Every fruit that I eat in Israel tastes different to its equivalent in Chutz La’aretz (outside the country) and don’t get me started on the cheeses, yoghurts, laban (a unique Israeli type of sour buttermilk dish) or chocomilk, the one sold in plastic pouches. 

This is not coincidental either.

Chazal tell us that the grain grown in the land of Israel has a spiritual dimension that is unique. The Torah instructs us to take numerous tithes from produce grown in Eretz Yisrael such as Termuah, Maaser (a tenth) and Challah. As a result, all who eat of these grains is granted a higher level of intelligence than they would, if these identical foodstuffs were eaten outside the land.

The same applies to the produce emanating from the vines. Tehillim (104.15) tells us that ‘wine gladdens a man’s heart’, none more so than that of Eretz Yisrael which contains a special spiritual aspect unique to the land.

Finally, olive oil which was used for many purposes, most famously as a fuel to light the Menorah in the Beit Hamikdash, acts as a source of enlightening our minds in understanding the Torah.

All three of the above are examples of how food from our precious land is incomparable with its equivalent in every other country.

As a proud Zionist, who has considered taking a medical to find out if his blood is actually coloured blue and white, just the thought of landing in Ben Gurion (which we will be doing, please G-d, soon) sends me into a tizzy.  I have to physically hold myself back from singing the Hatikvah right now!

But seriously, my passion for Israel also means that the highs I feel when I think about the country are countered by the anger and distress that overcomes me when I consider those who wish to do us harm, whether consciously or not.

And it is the metaphor of fruit that explains it best.

For those of us who believe that G-d gave the land to the Jewish people in perpetuity, the establishment of the State of Israel is, without a doubt, nothing short of a miracle.  Add to that, the prophecies of Kibbutz Galuyot, the ingathering of the exiles that are found in Yishayahu (Isaiah), Yirmiyahu and Yechezkel have been to a certain extent realised in the last 77 years.  The miracle that is Israel, a tiny country which, by every logical argument should not exist, is still here, despite all our enemies’ attempts to, in their terminology, ‘boycott, divest from and sanction’ or in one word, delegitimise. 

The metaphorical and physical seeds that were planted by the Chalutzim/Pioneers in the latter decades of the 19^th Century, were watered, nourished and came to fruition with  G-d’s (not so invisible) attention.  We are the generation that is blessed to benefit from the many ‘fruit’ both in an agricultural manner and through the extraordinary role that Israel plays in science, medicine and technology, to name but a few.

However, we need to take off our rose-coloured spectacles (which probably contain technology emanating from Israel!) and accept that some of the fruit have not been of the best quality.  In every batch of apples, there are always some that are rotten.  The politicians who should know better, use their positions in a manner that is unbecoming to their station.  The IDF doesn’t always get it right and makes mistakes that result in the loss of lives on both sides of the Gaza border.  Even some of the most sophisticated technology in the world wasn’t able to prevent the disaster that was October 7^th.  It failed and led to the current nightmare that we are living through.

But memories are extremely short and those whom we considered to be our friends and supporters, have conveniently forgotten the pioneering achievements that made Israel a world-class beacon in the battle to fight Covid.  These ‘fruits’ were shared with the rest of the world, less than half-a-decade ago.  This Israeli ‘orchard’ saved millions of lives.

And then the catastrophe happened and the country that had led the planet was reminded of its place and thrown onto the world’s garbage heap where it is being trampled upon by people we thought were allies. 

The ‘orchard’ of world leaders who trumpeted (no pun intended) their admiration of Israel throughout the Covid years allowed themselves to be swamped by tree after tree bearing rotten fruit.  Instead of trying to protect their reputations and by extension that of the populations they represent, they kowtowed to those amongst them who were affected by the virus of antisemitism.  In other words, the diseased trees which produced only rotten fruit, took over the orchard.

Shortly after the leaders of France, the UK and Canada declared their intention to (possibly in the case of the UK) recognize a ‘Palestinian State’, Ghazi Hamad (yimach shemo – may his name be blotted out) a member of Hamas’ political bureau said the following in an interview on Al Jazeera:

“The initiative by several countries to recognize a Palestinian state is one of the fruits of October 7.  We proved that victory over Israel is not impossible, and our weapons are a symbol of Palestinian dignity."

The key term here is ‘one of the fruits of October 7’.  How can anyone compare the barbarity and savagery of what happened as a ‘fruit’?

Whilst victory over Israel, a State which has given of its fruit to the rest of the world (just ask any Kenyan how drip-irrigation technology has impacted the countries’ ability to save itself from drought), would G-d forbid bring about a repressive Islamic state which would threaten the entire world.  Just look at how well that worked out in Iran.

Is this the ‘dignity’ that Palestinians desire?

And just as importantly, how can a so-called progressive West be demanding this?

Before the Jews returned to Israel, the area was a wasteland.

The blessings that G-d enumerates in this week’s Parasha remind us of what can be and indeed, what has transpired.

It is therefore incumbent on anyone who values the finest produce, in metaphorical and physical terms to ensure that it is given the opportunity to develop and grow.

Right now, there is a storm raging through the orchards, vineyards and fields that constitute the State of Israel.  To protect their produce, we must stand firm and do everything in our power to shield them from the rotten trees and fruit that threaten to swamp them.  It is not too late to plant new shoots and then remove the diseased fruit.  Every tree benefits from being pruned once it becomes overgrown.

Let us recall what we will see when order is restored:

For the Lord is bringing you into a good land, a land of streams and springs and deep waters gushing out to the valleys and the hills, a land of wheat and barley, vines, fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive oil and honey, a land where bread will  not be scarce, where you will lack nothing, a land where the rocks are iron and where you can hew bronze from her hills.  And when you are satisfied, you shall bless the Lord, your G-d for the good land that he has given you.

May He continue to protect our people and precious country and may we see the establishment of real internal and external peace, a return of all the Hostages and the permanent destruction of Hamas, its rotten bedfellows and everything they stand for.

And finally, the existence of a fully revitalised orchard replete with the very finest apples.

Shavuah Tov.

A Response To Sir Keir Starmer

You might have noticed that I have refrained from commenting directly on Sir Keir Starmer's declaration yesterday.

The reason was because, as a Jew and a proud Zionist whose love of Israel runs within the fibre of my entire being, I was frightened of criticizing the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

I was brought up to believe that this country, which prides itself as the 'Seat of Democracy' where Magna Carta was signed 810 years ago down the river from the Synagogue where I am a Senior Rabbi; which proved a safe haven for 10,000 Jewish kinder in the late 1930s; where we Jews could proudly boast that we were given freedom and equality that was the envy of the Western World; where I could walk in the streets wearing a kippah without fear of being attacked...

These were the foundations of my belief as a citizen of the United Kingdom.

Until I realised that they no longer existed.

Yesterday, Sir Keir Starmer decided that it is no longer in this country's interests to support everything that I believed in.

Last week, I met Omer Shem Tov. Two weeks ago, I met Keith Siegel. Two Jews who spent literally hundreds and hundreds of days living in a hell that I thought could never exist in the 21st Century.

Mr Prime Minister, in your one-sided declaration, where was your condemnation of Hamas? Did I miss the part about conditioning this country's support of a 'Palestinian State' on Hamas' actions ?

On Hamas declaring an end to its genocidal mandate against the only true democracy in the Middle East?

Against the only Jewish state in the entire world?

Did I miss the part about the UK recognising a 'Palestinian State' if every single hostage is returned? If Hamas promises not to use its citizens as human shields in order to achieve its nihilistic objectives? If Hamas agrees to lay down its weapons and promises never to 'carry out another 7th October'?

Did I miss the part of your declaration about holding them to account for what has transpired before, during and since that day?

Did I miss the bit where you spoke about the hand of friendship that the kibbutz members extended to the people of Gaza before that day?

Ferrying Palestinians to hospitals, inviting them into their homes, trying to forge peace whilst they were being played and Hamas was using the goodwill and billions of dollars donated to it for two decades building the tunnels and machinery it would employ to lead to what we are seeing today?

Where was that in your declaration, Mr Prime Minister?

Perhaps, I didn't see or hear that. Perhaps, I missed that part.

No-one who has a single ounce of decency wants to see the images emanating from Gaza right now.

No-one can fail to be moved by what has happened and there are no innocent parties but had Hamas and yes, many, many, many non affiliated Palestinians not carried out the barbaric, savage, bloodthirsty and sadistic attacks on 7th October and continued to turn a blind eye to the fate of the hostages (many of whom were and are still imprisoned in non-members' homes), the Gaza that you see on your screens, would be a very different place.

Why did you choose not to mention this in your declaration, Mr Prime Minister? Why?

What you have said and demonstrated is the bitter fact that I and my people are not important to you.

That the country I was born in has no respect for the country that has been the home of my nation for over three millennia.

Whilst the ancient Britons lived in caves, we were the citizens of two monarchies. Open your Bible and read about my people and how they were different to the nations that surrounded them. Read about what Judaism has gifted to the world.

And then explain how you, who is married to a Jewish woman, whose children are Jewish, who claims to 'do Friday night' and the Passover Seder - how you could have the chutzpah to stand up there in front of the world and point the finger at Israel, whilst ignoring the real culprits behind what you find so 'disturbing'.

Whether or not you carry out your threat, you and those of your colleagues who are pushing for such an action have shamed this country and everything we were brought up to believe that it once stood for.

Now, I've said it.

Parashat Balak: The Lion of Staines

 

One of the highlights of my week (aside from spending time with my lovely Staines community!) is my walk home from Shul along The Thames Path.

As I amble along the walkway, I admire the flora and fauna, particularly at this time of year.  A few weeks ago, I was treated to the wonderful sight of a pair of swans carefully guiding their cygnets in a straight line across the middle of the river.  Nearby, a brood of very young ducklings were learning how to navigate the water under the watchful eye of their proud mother.

I recently saw some surfers gliding past, which is a change to rowboats with their audible Coxswains who guide the crews.  It is a bit of balancing act because whilst admiring the natural views, I am mindful to stay out of the way of cyclists and runners who share the pathway with pedestrians such as myself.

Last Shabbat, as I was making my way back to the house, basking in the warm sunshine and looking for ‘my swans’, I passed a runner who wished me Shabbat Shalom which, as you will appreciate, is not something I hear that often in this part of the world!  Sensing the opportunity to recruit a potential new member of our community, I decided to find out a little bit more about him.  For reasons of anonymity, let’s call him ‘Dan’.

Dan is Jewish and has been running for a long time.  On 8^th October 2023, he decided that he would run a marathon to honour each hostage held in Gaza until every single one had returned home, dead or alive.  Having served in both the British Army and the IDF and having been involved in theatres of war, he is very aware of what is currently taking place in Gaza.

Each week, he travels to Staines from his home in northwest London and runs a marathon alongside others.  He told me that he has presented Israel’s case to the runners and that they are extremely supportive with ‘not a single antisemite amongst them’ (these are his words, not mine).

When I asked him whether he’d be interested in joining our community, he politely declined telling me that he is a ‘bad Jew’ who doesn’t ‘do’ Shul.  I of course disagreed and told him that I don’t believe in the idea of a ‘bad Jew’ and that it is not our place to judge others.

My brief chat with Dan left me feeling impressed and most of all inspired.  To take on such a feat, which tests his powers of endurance week in and week out, is truly remarkable.  To do so as a Jew in support of our brothers who are suffering in the hellish conditions under Gaza is simply indescribable in its magnanimity.  If that’s a definition of a ‘bad Jew’, I cannot perceive of its antonym.

This week’s Parasha of Balak focuses on the actions of the evil Bilaam, a ‘sorcerer for hire’, whose goal was to curse the Bnei Yisrael.  However, Gd had different plans for him which resulted in him blessing them instead.

Frustrated by his inability to curse the people through Gd’s intervention and by extension, not having been paid his wage by the disgruntled Moabite King Balak, he decided to wreak his revenge on the Bnei Yisrael by hatching the plot to entice them through the harlotry of the ‘daughters of Moab’ (and Midian - see Rashi 25.1).  This resulted in the deaths of 24,000 Israelites (through a plague) along with the prince of the tribe of Shimon and the daughter a tribal Midianite leader, who were killed by Pinchas, the grandson of Aharon.

These two sides to Bilaam demonstrate the power of blessings and curses.  When he wished to actualise the latter, this resulted in the carnage at Shittim located in Moab opposite Jericho, whilst the former constituted some of the most beautiful prose in the entire Torah.

When Bilaam was deciding on whether he should accompany Balak’s messengers, Gd came to him and said:

“Do not go with them…Do not curse this people, for they are blessed.” (19.12)

And blessed we are indeed.

I thought it was fascinating that when Israel launched the extraordinary attack on Iran last month, the name of the operation was derived from one of Bilaam’s blessings:

“See what Gd has done.
A people – see – rises like a lioness, lifts itself up like a lion.”  (20.24)

The simile of a lion and the Jewish people stretches back to Yaakov’s blessing to Yehudah in Parashat Vayechi:

“Yehuda is a lion’s cub.  From the prey, you have risen.  Like a lion, he crouches, lies down like a lioness; who dares to rouse him?” (49.9)

This idea was concretised through the shape of the Heichal, the central building in the Beit Hamikdash complex.  The Mishnah in Middot (4.7) states:

The Hekhal was narrow behind and broad in front, resembling a lion, as it says, "Ah, Ariel, Ariel, the city where David encamped" (Isaiah 29:1): Just as a lion is narrow behind and broad in front, so the Hekhal was narrow behind and broad in front.

Sadly, we are witnessing thousands of proto Bilaams who try their best to curse us in the streets of our cities, in social media and in parliaments around the world.  Gd deflects their curses and turns them into blessings as we have seen with the astonishing victories of the IDF against our enemies over the last year-and-three-quarters.  Dan, our Lion of Judah, blesses our people through his physical efforts to raise awareness of the plight of the hostages.

Far from being a ‘bad Jew’, he embodies everything that constitutes a hero in our eyes (although it would be lovely if he stepped into our shul every now and again and helped to make up that elusive minyan!)

We need the Dans of the world to remind others about how blessed we are to be the descendants of Yaakov Avinu.  How the promise that Gd made to Avraham has been realised with the establishment of Medinat Yisrael and how He protects our nation day in and day out.  We are experiencing deep pain and many our brothers and sisters have fallen but, like a lioness, I am in no doubt that we will rise again and eventually defeat our foes.

May Gd continue to protect and bless us and may we witness the return of our hostages to their families in the very near future. Finally, may He give Dan, our ‘Lion of Staines’ the strength and resolve to continue his athletic journeys along the Thames River Path until that day arrives.

Amen.

Shavua Tov

Parashat Chukat: Love in Song

 

 

“My heart cries out for love and all that goes with loving, Love in song, Love in song”

Paul McCartney and Wings, from the ‘Venus and Mars album’ 1975

It was one of the worst famines on record and it took two musicians with hearts of gold to try to do something about it.

Nearly forty years ago, on Shabbat, 14^th July 1985, Sir Bob Geldof and Midge Ure staged the legendary ‘Live Aid’ concerts simultaneously in two locations across two continents.  Wembley Stadium and the John F. Kennedy Stadium in Philadelphia rocked to the sound of some of the greatest popular artists the 20^th Century had witnessed.  Not only that but Phil Collins even managed to play at both venues!  162,000 people attended the combined concerts and they were watched on TV by an estimated audience of 1.5 billion people across approximately 150 countries.  The world had never seen anything like it.

According to Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Live_Aid), Queen’s twenty-one minute performance, which began at 6.41 in the evening, was the ‘greatest live performance in the history of rock in a 2005 industry poll of more than sixty artists, journalists and music industry executives,’ and it was recreated to great effect in the excellent ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ film of 2018.

It is estimated that £50 million (which is equivalent to £100 million in today’s money) towards famine relief has been raised directly as a result of the concerts (although it is unclear how much actually made it to the victims due to misappropriation by the Ethiopian Authorities).

There is no doubt that this was one of the greatest contributions that music has had on influencing the minds of the world’s citizens.

I recall Live Aid as being a seminal event that I couldn’t participate in (beyond donating to the charity).  At the time, I was living at home with my parents in Golders Green.  I was seventeen years old and it was a long, hot Shabbat.  Standing in our back garden, I could hear the neighbours’ TV sets blasting out the songs.

In the days before YouTube and VCRs, you had to wait to see the highlights on the BBC whenever it chose to broadcast them – which meant that not only could I not watch it being live streamed but I missed most of the replay as Shabbat didn’t terminate until after 10.00 pm.

As they say, “Es shver tzu tzein a yid.” which means, ‘It’s not easy being Jewish!”

One couldn’t ignore the magnitude of what was taking place.  That I had recently discovered the Beatles, and knowing that Paul McCartney had closed the Wembley concert with ‘Let It Be’ (although his microphone famously cut out mid-performance), made missing the event even more regrettable.  Whilst the world watched in amazement, I contended myself with spending much of the afternoon in the garden on a particularly splendid summer day.

I recall a friend of my parents, who sadly passed away at too young an age, telling me that ‘Music has the ability to move people in such a powerful way that this can lead to revolutions.’ I didn’t really understand what he meant and whether he was being particularly dramatic but forty years on and with life’s experience added to my being, I now ‘get’ where he was coming from.

If you knew very little about our nation but decided to step into a shul, any shul, on a Shabbat morning, it would become patently clear that ‘we do music big time’.  From the moment we start our prayers, we infuse them with the sweet sounds that stretch back through the millennia.  We even call the earlier sections, Pesukei de Zimra which literally means ‘Verses of Song’ (aka ‘Songs of Praise’).  We chant the Shema, the Amida and sometimes, Hallel.  When we read from the Torah and the Haftorah, we use musical notes.  In short, music is embedded in the DNA of the Jewish People.

The Torah records three songs that our ancestors sang.  The first, which we recite daily, is the Shira or the song that was sung when we emerged from the Yam Suf, the Sea of Reeds.  The second is the beautiful poem we recite throughout the majority of Parashat Ha’azinu and the third, which is the least known, is found in this week’s Parasha in Chapter 21 (verses 17-21) which extolls the water supply that accompanied the Israelites throughout the desert and ceased when Miriam died.  This of course led to the infamous episode when Moshe struck the rock and the consequent punishment he received in being precluded from entering the land of Israel.

“Then Israel sang this song: “Come up, O well!  Call out to it.” Well that the princes dug, that the nobles of the people excavated, through a lawgiver, with their staffs.  A gift from the wilderness – the gift went to the valley and from the valley to the heights, and from the heights to the valley in the field of Moab, at the top of the peak, overlooking the surface of the wilderness.”

Song is the ultimate expression that describes simcha or joy.  When we are happy, how can we demonstrate this?  Through song.  When we are sad, what do we need to hear to lift our hearts?  Music of course!  This is why, for many of us, one of the hardest challenges during the year of mourning (or even over a limited time such as the Omer or the upcoming ‘Three Weeks’ period) is surviving without music.  I know how difficult I found it and conversely the elation I felt once my ‘year’ was over and I could hear music again.  It was as though my soul was soaring in a way that I had forgotten it could.  Music is the gift that keeps on giving.

We Jews understand the limitless power that music has to express our deepest emotions.

The world too is in on this act and through Live Aid demonstrated what could be achieved.  When people come together to celebrate music, extraordinary events take shape, except when they don’t. The power of music to break down boundaries and engender love has been sorely tested in recent years.

Ask a survivor of the French Bataclan massacre of January 2015; someone who lost relatives in the Manchester Arena bombing of May 2017; a parent of any of the 378 young people killed at Nova on 7^th October (and we can add another 44 taken in captivity in Gaza, dead or alive) how they feel about the power of music.

And when you have your answer, ask them how an ignorant, foul-mouthed, arrogant and obnoxious musician can dare to incite people to kill Jews and Arabs who are fighting, risking and losing their lives to defeat an enemy that despises and hates everything music stands for.  Ask the privileged, empty-headed fans who sang along to the chants of ‘Death, death to the IDF’ what they would do if they had been present at Bataclan, Manchester or Nova.  What tune would they be singing if they had seen their brothers, sisters, cousins or childhood friends meeting the same fate as those who had attended those concerts.                     Would they still be singing?  Or worse, would they be amongst the victims?

How can those whose parents and grandparents participated in Live Aid sink to such a level that it was akin to a Nazi rally of the 1930s?

“My heart cries out for love and all that goes with loving, Love in song, love in song”

·         Last Shabbat, where was the love that Wings sang about fifty years ago?

·         Where was the compassion that led those artists who participated in Live Aid to waive their fees so that all the monies raised could be sent to the starving in Ethiopia?

·         Where was the professionalism that the BBC demonstrated when broadcasting one of the seminal events of the latter part of the Twentieth Century, as it breezily live-streamed antisemitic incitement and kept the footage online for a further five hours?

We have yet to receive proper answers to these questions because so far, the responses have been feeble and frankly pathetic.

There was no love at Glastonbury this year but unbridled hate.

We don’t know exactly how much the artists were paid (although it ranges between the £10,000 and over £100,000 mark) and tickets to the festival cost the attendees £373.50 apiece (and more if you were ‘glamping’)

As of the time of writing, the BBC has promised to avoid the live broadcasting of ‘high risk’ acts in the future but I wait to be convinced.

The artist in question has been dropped by both his agent and management company and he has been denied entry to the US which resulted in his having to cancel all concerts there.

It could have been so very different.  Music, which should be the language of love (as per Shakespeare) has been cynically and cruelly twisted into a weapon of hate and division.

But not for the Jewish people.

Throughout the centuries, we have experienced persecution - and there were many who tried to silence us - but despite everything, we carried our songs in hearts and expressed our emotions through the most challenging of times in song.  Our Psalms were written to be sung, even those that were mournful in nature because music, at the end of the day, is the ultimate expression of the soul for even on our darkest day, Tisha B’Av, we sit on the ground and chant.

I remain optimistic that, despite everything, the power of music can help society heal itself.  The outcry from those around us, who know the difference between right and wrong, has demonstrated that there is a reason to be hopeful.

I just hope that those who chanted, and the people who stood by, pause and consider a direction they can take to channel the power of music for good.  Society has reached a precipice but it’s not too late to pull back from the edge of the abyss.

May the music and its message that we heard all those years ago remind us of what we can achieve if we listen carefully to each other and demonstrate all that goes with loving.

Love in song.

Love in song.

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Naso: The Middle Way

Then the Lord spoke to Moshe, “Speak to the Israelites.  Say, “When a man or a woman takes a special vow, the vow of the Nazarite, to separate him or herself to the Lord, he must separate himself from wine and strong drink.  He must drink neither vinegar made from wine or vinegar made from any other strong drink, nor may he drink any juice made with grapes, nor eat fresh grapes or raisins.  All the days of his separation he must not eat anything that comes from the grapevine, from seed to skin. 

All the days of his separation vow, no razor shall touch his head.  Until the completion of the time for which he separated himself to the Lord, he shall be holy and must let the locks of his hair grow long.  All the days of his separation, he must not come near a dead body” (which includes those of his close relatives).  All the days of his separation he is holy to the Lord.”” (Numbers 6.1-8)

Parashat Naso describes the laws of the Nazir or Nazirite as he is termed in English.

If a man or woman felt the need to attain a higher level of holiness and consecrate themselves to Gd, they could do this by taking upon themselves three vows.

1.    To refrain from partaking of any grape based product.  This symbolised a desire to reject the pleasures and excesses of ordinary life of which wine and grapes are key constituents.

2.    To demonstrate their commitment to their new lifestyle by significantly altering their appearance through not cutting their hair or shaving their beard.

3.    To avoid any contact whatsoever with a dead body, even to the extent that they wouldn’t be able to attend the funerals of their nearest and dearest relatives.  This ensured that they were able to remain in a state of absolute spiritual purity throughout their nezirut (the period of time that they were permitted to be a Nazirite).

I should point out that although these laws referred to all Nazirites, in this Drasha, I will be focussing on those individuals who chose to take the Nazarite vow as opposed to those like the Prophet Samuel or Samson (the subject of this week’s Haftarah) who were born into this status and spent their entire lives as Nazarites.

Although the idea of a Nazirite and the restrictions they choose to put themselves under seem strange to modern day audiences, they aren’t as unusual as we might consider them to be. 

Do you know someone who has participated in the annual Dry January campaign initiated by Alcohol Change UK?  Doesn’t that tick a similar box to the Nazirite’s first challenge?

What about Movember, the awareness campaign for men’s health (focusing on areas such as prostate cancer or suicide prevention) where gentlemen refrain from shaving their moustaches throughout the month of November (hence the name)?

The idea of giving up ‘something’ for a greater cause is not that unusual.  Beyond our own religion, it is common for many Christians to abstain from some of their favourite food products over the period of Lent.

Back to our Nazirite.

Most adhered to their vows for a month before going through the process of reintegrating into society by bringing a young sheep as an elevation offering, a ewe as a sin offering, a ram as a peace offering, a basket of unleavened bread and other items.  They would shave their head and burn their newly cut hair in the fire beneath the sacrifices (see Verses 13-20 for a full description).

On the surface, the lifestyle espoused by the Nazirite is very commendable.  Who wouldn’t want to take on an existence that was more aesthetic in nature?  That is for one small wrinkle in the process the Nazirite goes through as part of their reemergence into society.  Have you asked yourself why the Nazirite was required to bring a sin offering?

Surely, taking on such a holy existence could not warrant the need to atone for anything, could it?

Rabbi Sacks ztl quotes a disagreement between the Sages spanning the Mishnaic, Talmudic and Medieval Ages and I will be referencing his masterful Dvar Torah, ‘Naso: Two Versions of the Moral Life’ in his ‘Essays on Ethics’ (pp 221-225, Maggid, 2016). 

Rabbi Elazar and the Rambam viewed the Nazirite as being praiseworthy precisely because he had chosen to take on a higher level of holiness but in leaving this behind was now guilty of the sins inherent in returning to his pre-Nazarite state.

Rabbi Eliezer HaKappar and Shmuel took a different approach.  Where our protagonist had sinned, lay not in changing status from being a Nazirite to a non-Nazirite but in taking on the vow in the first place.  In doing so, Rabbi Eliezer states, “From this we may infer that if one denies himself the enjoyment of wine is called a sinner, all the more so, one who denies himself the enjoyment of other pleasures of life” (Tannit 11a; Nedarim 10a).

Their viewpoint was that this world and its pleasures which have been created by Gd must be appreciated and not denied by anyone.  It is an affront to the gifts we receive on a daily basis from the Almighty.

Some non-Jewish nations espouse a monastic life but this is not the Jewish way of living.

Hence, the requirement for the Nazirite to bring a sin offering.  Either for taking on the said restrictions in the first place (as per Rabbi Eliezer HaKappar and Shmuel) or for leaving them behind (quoting Rabbi Elazar and the Rambam).

If these were the only two approaches, the following viewpoint would not be so intriguing.

The Rambam, whilst appearing to agree with Rabbi Elazar’s viewpoint, also veers towards Rabbi Eliezer and Shmuel’s ideas as expressed in his Mishneh Torah.  So, he holds sway with both the positive and negative arguments!

In Hilchot Deot (The Laws of Personal Development 3.1), he writes:

A person may say, “Desire, honour 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.

However, in Hilchot Nezirut (the Laws of the Nazirite 10.14), he rules in accordance with Rabbi Elazar’s evaluation:

Whoever vows to Gd (to become a Nazirite) by way of holiness, does well and is praiseworthy…Indeed Scripture considers him to be equal of a prophet.

How can the Rambam take both sides of the argument...all the more so in the same book?

Rabbi Sacks explains that the Rambam understands two ways that a person can live a moral life, both as a saint (which he called a Chasid) and a sage (Chacham).

The latter, the sage, follows the ‘golden mean’ or ‘the middle way’.  Life is a journey between balancing too much and too little.  Sometimes, we are courageous but this finds us placing ourselves between cowardice and recklessness.  The degree of our generosity lies between ‘over’ and ‘under’ or as Rabbi Sacks terms it ‘profligacy and miserliness’.  That is the sage, the Chacham.

The saint, or the Chasid does not follow this middle way.  They tend towards extremes.  Fasting when they should be eating moderately or embracing poverty rather than acquiring modest wealth.  They may become a saint because of a life-changing experience such as surviving a serious illness or heaven forbid, the loss of loved ones.  They respond to this by trying to improve themselves through radical means, either spiritually or via increased physical exertion.  This is the Chasid.

For the Rambam, both approaches are recognised by the Torah.  If our lives were linear in nature, the way we responded to them would also be linear.  But that’s not the case.  Each of us will probably face challenges that demand of us to be a saint or a sage.  A Chasid or a Chacham. 

If we decide to go down the saintly route (as per Rabbi Sacks), will we give more money to Tzedaka than to our families?  Will we forgive those who carry out actions that are unforgivable?  Society cannot be formed out of saints if you wish to enforce a just and fair rule of law.

It is noteworthy for a person to try to be a saint because we need good people to populate our troubled societies but we also need sages to ensure that balance exists.  Extremism must be kept to a minimum and goodness, engendered by the saintlier members of society, is shared with those who are not of the same disposition.

A look at the Rambam’s life demonstrates that he would have liked to live as a saint and he longed for the seclusion granted to a Nazarite, in his role as a saint.  But he also realised that he had to be a sage, for the sake of his family and the global community that approached him for advice.   

His adoption of the middle way meant that, whereas he appreciated the positive outcome gained through being a Nazarite, he believed that one cannot permanently remove oneself from the society in which one lives.  Not if you want to play a crucial role in the community’s development and growth.

‘Dry January’ and ‘Movember’ are effective campaigns because they allow us to take on personal restrictions that focus our minds on the target at hand over a dedicated period of time.  These constraints make our lives different precisely because we know that as of the start of February and December respectively, we return to who we were before and reclaim the lifestyle we previously led.  The only difference is that, with hindsight, we can appreciate how much we achieved in the preceding month.

Similarly, the Nazirite decided to take stringencies upon themselves in the knowledge that these would eventually be relaxed.  It was the journey they went through during the period of their abstinence that made the greatest impact on them.  As a result, they returned to society and, hopefully, played a more active and constructive part than they had before they undertook their vow.

If we all adhered to walking ‘the middle way’, this world would be a much more pleasant environment in which to live.  We can be both saints and sages as long as we ensure that moderation is that heart of our decision-making process.

Shavuah Tov.