Naso 5772 - English

Rabbi Daniela Szuster
B´nei Israel Congregation, Costa Rica

This week’s parashah describes two very specific situations, with their corresponding laws:  the Sotah and the Nazir.

The first case, the Sotah woman, refers to a situation in particular where a man suspected that his wife had been unfaithful and, in order to prove his suspicions, the woman had to undergo a test, drinking the water of bitterness, and thus the truth was known.  Sort of a lie detector.  Of course, a situation quite unfair, since it was exercised only when men suspected, but not when women suspected their husbands.  Furthermore, a humiliating and embarrassing situation.  Fortunately, the Jewish tradition abolished this ritual many years ago.

The second case, the Nazir, was when someone, man or woman, decided to devote themselves to God by making a vow for a specific period of time.  During this period, the person had to abstain from drinking wine, cutting their hair and contact with dead people.  The word itself, Nazir, means to move apart, to separate from the community.  They removed themselves for a time, to the purpose of avoiding their impulses and search for a way to control them.

Nazir and Sotah seem to be two absolutely unconnected subjects.  The Talmud sages wondered about the relation between these situations, and finally answered:  “whoever witnesses a suspected woman in her disgrace should withhold himself from wine” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sotah 2a).  From this quote it is understood that drinking wine is often the cause for debauchery.  They assume that the fact that the woman drank wine was what led her to such situation, and therefore, people who see her should feel the need to withhold themselves from wine and reflect upon their evil impulses and lives.

Instead of reflecting upon the unfortunate woman, object of suspicion, who was humiliated in front of many people and, in most cases, innocent, I would rather reflect upon that jealous and distrustful man who, instead of having an honest talk with his wife, resorted to such a degrading ritual, with no proof or evidence whatsoever.

Let us imagine a case where the woman was without guilt; how would she feel when they returned home?  How could she face someone who could mistrust her and, sick with jealousy, publicly denigrate her?  Seeing a man with this attitude could, perhaps, prompt us to do as the Nazir: take some time out to think, devote ourselves to God, and avoid the impulses and obsessions that hurt us so much and hurt our fellow man and woman as well.

In the ritual described in the Torah, the Cohen had to write down God’s name on a parchment and wash them off into the waters of bitterness, which erased the divine name (Bemidvar 5:23).  Maybe this procedure teaches us that when people are so envious and jealous, when they let themselves be controlled by their emotions and cannot trust the people around them, God’s name is inevitably blotted out.  When a person is humiliated and denigrated, the divine name cannot be present.  It is just when people treat their neighbors as human beings, respectfully and with dignity, that the name of God will be preserved throughout time.

May God grant that we can take a time, as the Nazir did, to remove ourselves and reflect upon our attitudes and develop our spirituality, instead of living obsessed by jealousy and suspicions which lead nowhere, instead of denigrating human beings and erasing the divine name, as was the case of the husbands who suspected of their wives.

Shabbat Shalom!