Crimes of Passion and Indulgence
D’var Torah for Naso
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
May 30, 2023
As the Torah continues assigning roles for different clans and tribes, it also recognizes that not everyone is going to be happy with their given position. We are not cogs in a machine; we are unique human beings, each with different abilities and talents; we have different likes and dislikes. We are given to emotions and passions.
Naso (“Count Up,” Numbers 4:21—7:89) is the longest portion in the Torah. The entirety of chapter 7 is a complete listing of the contributions that each tribal leader brought to the Tabernacle, 35 gifts each, all exactly the same, all necessary for safeguarding the Tabernacle. This unanimity had a purpose—to illustrate the harmony and equality between all the tribes, regardless of their size or social status. Yet beneath it all lie discords brought about by our very humanity.
The two extreme emotions this portion warns against are religious zeal and romantic passion. How well we know that these, more than any other, have the potential to spill over and become violent! The laws surrounding each of these cases are therefore numerous and complex. In each instance, the individual concerned is subject to regulations whose purpose is to take any action out of his hands and transfer resolution to a court of judges and/or priests.
The nazirite is a person who devotes his entire life—or any portion of it—to the fulfillment of a fervent vow made to God. He is made easily recognizable by his unshorn hair and abstinence from wine or any other fermented drink—in fact, even from grapes and raisins. Like priests, a nazirite is not permitted to show any outward sign of mourning, even for close relatives. His return to normal society and behavior is marked by a celebration and several sacrifice offerings. Though faith serves an important role in our individual and societal well-being, religious zealotry is still the cause of too much hatred and violence, and a return to moderate behavior is indeed cause for celebration.
More complicated is the case of the sotah—the wayward or unfaithful woman. (Even though acts of sexual violence are not committed exclusively by men, the vast majority are, with one theoretical reason being inborn tendencies of male aggression.) Tragically, in many of these so-called “crimes of passion” evidence is rarely necessary, suspicion is sufficient. In Naso we find some of the earliest—if not the very first—laws that attempt to put a stop to these acts of jealousy and violence. The Torah commands that a woman suspected of being sotah must be referred to a court of priests whose duty it is to administer a sordid ritual meant to prove her guilt or innocence. While degrading and frightening, this ritual is designed to prove the woman’s virtue—and at any rate, its primary purpose is to take the entire matter out of the violent partner’s hands.
Our passions are part of our humanity, but when carried to extremes, they become dangerous to ourselves and others. It is precisely because we cannot always control them that the Torah imposes strict checks and regulations. To our modern sensibilities these rules may seem archaic, but in reality their purpose—saving a life—was, and still is, crucial.
Finally, Naso contains the Priestly Benediction (Num. 6:24-26). Recognizing the diversity of humanity and each individual’s unique modes of thought and behavior, Moses sets before us an ideal vision in which each person’s contributions become part of a multi-layered tapestry. Some gifts may stand out for brilliance and intensity, but never so much so that they cause others to lose luster or disappear entirely.
It is through both wisdom and discipline that society endures.
© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman
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