Parashat Naso

And why does [the pasuk use the word] Hikriv twice [by the offering of Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar, the Nassi of Shevet Yissachar]? Because for two reasons did he deserve to offer second in the order of Shvatim: first, for [the Shevet] knew much Torah…; and second, for they gave the other Nissi’im the idea of offering these particular Korbanos.

Rashi, BaMidbar 7:18-19

Each of the Nissi’im brought Korbanos, but Rashi only explains the reasons behind Shevet Yissachar’s tribute. The Gur Aryeh explains that Rashi only needed to describe one offering since each Shevet offered the same Korbanos for the same reasons (contrary to the Midrash Rabbah’s elaborate description of each Shevet’s Korban and each’s exclusive origins). In other words, when Rashi explains that Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar brought one bull for an Olah as a correspondence to the bull Avrahahm Avinu offered his heavenly visitors three days after his Milah, Rashi means that each Shevet offered one bull as an Olah for exactly the same reason.

The Gur Aryeh’s explanation is indeed very elegant; we can truly consider each Nassi’s offering equal to his peers’ since each was brought with equal intent. However, there is one critical flaw with the Gur Aryeh’s idea, for when Rashi explains that Nissanel Ben Tzu’ar’s Chatas goat came to atone for Mechiras Yoseif, Rashi means that each Shevet’s Chatas came to atone for the Mechira. Such a notion fits very nicely for a Shevet like Yehuda, or Reuvein, or Yissachar, for those Shvatim were all guilty of selling Yoseif. But Ephraim and Menashe also brought Chata’os; what were they guilty for? Binyamin wasn’t present as his brother’s sale either – how could his Shevet be held accountable? Could each Nassi’s Korban truly be equal if the reasons behind their offerings blatantly lack equal relevance?

Perhaps we should first consider how any of the Nissi’im were authorized to bring Chata’os in the first place. A Chatas is specifically brought by someone who has sinned; one cannot donate it by his own choice or volition. Clearly the Nissi’im did not owe Chata’os to Hashem for these donations were, according to Rashi (7:10), a product of their inspiration. Granted the Olos and Shlamim they brought could be accepted, but why weren’t the Chata’os rejected?

In similar vein, most Chata’os are also brought on Aveiros one performs. If one’s father commits a sin and then dies, his son does not offer his Chatas, even if it has already been set aside for Hekdesh, for the father’s death acts as his Kaparah, and the Chatas is rendered purposeless. Interestingly, and certainly by no coincidence, the Nazir also brings a Chatas over no apparent sin.

When the Nazir accidentally becomes Tamei, he brings an Olah, Chatas and Asham. The pasuk qualifies the Chatas offering “ViKipeir Alav MeiAsher Chata Al HaNafesh,” as atonement over that which he sinned against his own soul. Clearly, this Chatas comes as atonement over his own actions. Rashi explains that the Nazir should have been more careful not to become Tamei, and is thereby responsibe for the violation of his Neder Nazir. Additionally, Rashi quotes the opinion of Rabbi Elazar HaKapar, who reasons that the Nazir owes a Chatas “SheTzi’er Min HaYayin,” for he pained himself [by abstaining] from wine.

Everyone asks on Rashi’s comments how Rabbi Elazar HaKapar’s explanation exclusively addresses the Chatas of a Nazir Tamei, for any Nazir must give a Chatas – along with an Olah and Shlamim – at the end of his Nezirus, and every Nazir abstains from wine. The Levush HaOrah answers beautifully that a Nazir Tamei’s abstinence from wine is very different from a regular Nazir’s for the Nazir Tamei’s abstinence is all for naught, as the pasuk says “ViHaYamim Rishonim Yipilu,” the first attempt drops off and the period of Nezirus resets. Furthermore, the fact that the Nazir became Tamei, the Levush HaOrah continues, was out of his control and therefore serves as an indication from Shamayim that his vow was not accepted for he did not offer it wholeheartedly. Like the servant whose master splashes a cup of water in his face, the Nazir’s pledge is rejected, ad so he must offer a Chatas for the unnecessary pain he inflicted upon himself.

The Levush HaOrah leaves us with little room to explain the Nazir’s inevitable culpability, to explain his need to bring a Chatas at the end of his term, regardless of whether he ever became Tamei. The pasuk notably says nothing about being Mikapeir for the Nazir’s Cheit, nor does Rashi specify any reason for the Chatas. Perhaps, we should take a better look at who the Nazir is before we dismiss his lack of culpability based on what he does:

Rabbi Shimon HaTadik said: In all my days, I never ate from the Asham of but one Nazir who came from the south and I saw he had a beautiful appearance. I said to him “My son, what did you see that compelled you to shave off such beautiful hair?” He replied “I was a shepherd for my father. I went to draw some water and saw my reflection in the well. When I saw how beautiful I looked, my Yeitzer Hara spread through me and tried to lower me from the world. I said to my Yeitzer ‘Rashah! Why do you try to take from a world that is not yours, for your future lies with the maggots and the worms. I will shave you off LiShem Shamayim.” I stood, kissed his head, and said “My son, may every Nazir in the world be like you, for it is upon you that the pasuk states Eesh Ki Yaflee Lindor Neder Nazir.”

Mesechet Nedarim, 9b

The story paints the ideal Nazir in a most admirable light. He is the quintessential Ba’al Teshuva; he recognizes the pull of his Yeitzer, takes the very object of his potential downfall and not only detaches himself from it, but does so LiShem Shamayim. But he is a Ba’al Teshuva all the same; he does not become a Nazir because of his closeness to Hashem, but rather because he recognizes how distant he is. The abstinence from wine becomes a necessary precaution; although it is not a facet of the ideal lifestyle, it becomes the ideal road to such a lifestyle.

Why are the parashiot of Sotah and Nazir juxtaposed? To tell you that anyone who sees a Sotah in her state of disgrace should take upon himself to abstain from wine, for wine leads to adultery.

Rashi, BaMidbar 6:2

It seems that the Nazir recognizes the sinful path of the Sotah and fears that he may fall victim to that same path. However, an ordinary adulteress, with witnesses and warning, does not receive the punishment of the Sotah; she is punished with chenek while a Sotah receives a much more unique penalty. The Sotah’s punishment is not only for her actions but also for the false oath she undertook. Without swearing that she never slept with another man, the Sotah would not be subjected to the test; rather, she would be divorced from her husband and not receive her Kesuvah, end of trial.

The problem with Rashi’s explanation of the Nazir-Sotah connection is twofold. Why does Nazir have to follow the parasha of Sotah; why can’t the Nazir watch a regular No’efes be strangled? Wouldn’t that startle some fear into him as well? Furthermore, if the Nazir was trying to prevent his fate from matching that of the Sotah’s, the last thing he should do is starting making Nedarim and Shvuos. That’s what got the Sotah into so much trouble, so why should the Nazir put himself in harm’s way if his entire goal is to steer clear of harm? Can’t he just abstain from wine without promising so?

We see from the story in Mesechet Nedarim that the Nazir’s fear is not one of succumbing to the misdeeds of another; conversely, the Nazir recognizes a flaw present in himself. The very witnessing of the Sotah’s trial puts the consideration of adultery into his mind. He thinks to himself, “She is a woman and is subject to such a trial, but I am a man; I will never be caught,” and that moment, his Yeitzer Hara begins to seize him and lower him from the world. The response is therefore not only to abstain from wine, in hopes of tightening his connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, but to do so LiSheim Shamyim, and so he takes a Neder upon himself in the process, for only then can this deprivation lead towards his ultimate goal.

In essence, the Nazir’s flaw transcends his actions, perhaps even his thoughts. The Nazir recognizes his most critical inequities and set out to repair them. The process concludes with 1) a Korban Chatas, an apology for his initial mistakes, 2) a Korban Olah, an expression of his closeness to and sacrifice for Hashem’s sake, and lastly 3) a Korban Shlamim, the expression of his new persona, the man most able to appreciate his Creator’s world and partake of it in a constructive fashion, capable of partaking from a meal of Kodshim.

Interestingly – and certainly by no coincidence – the Korbanos of the Nissi’im are the only other scenario addressed in the Torah where an Olah, Chatas, and Asham are offered! Perhaps the Nissi’im viewed themselves on the level of Nazirus, in need to correct their most internal and elemental flaws by means of Hakrava. The gifts they brings do not correspond to shallow personal matters; rather, they reflect upon and correspond to the most pivotal events in the nation’s history, the stories that have molded each individual’s persona. Some events, like Avraham’s gift to the Malachim, correspond to Olos. Some gifts, like the two Shlamim cows that corresponded to Moshe and Aharon, served appropriately as Shlamim. And even a Chatas was required to address the brotherly strife that spawns from Mechiras Yoseif.

No Shevet was innocent of such a sin, for each Shevet experienced the aftermath of the rift. Yoseif never forgave his brothers; Binyamin was awarded five times as many gifts. The effects of Yoseif’s sale lasted through the generations, and the Machaneh simply could not function without atonement, and the Nissi’im’s Chata’os served exactly that purpose. Even the western Shvatim – Ephra’im, Menashe, and Binyamin – involved themselves in the Kapara; in fact, in a way they were most responsible for the dissent and dissonance.

But in the end, the Korbanos were offered, the errors were addressed, and the necessary Kesher to HaKadosh Baruch Hu was achieved. The Nissi’im represented their respective Shvatim splendidly. What more, the equality of their Shvatim was expressed not only through the donations they presented, but even through the identical reasons behind each gift, the recognition that each Shevet was equally responsible for the Machaneh’s most dubious failures, and likewise their greatest successes.