Hair today, gone tomorrow: Nazirites and hairstyle symbolism

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Naso focuses on nezirut, a voluntary vow which requires a person to abstain from contact with the dead, drinking wine, and taking a haircut. We contrast the approaches of Ramban – who understands the sin offering at the conclusion of nezirut to be indicative of the nazir’s prior commendable abstention from ‘worldly contamination’ – with that of Rambam who is critical of the nazir for forgoing such pleasures.

It is a mistake, however, to suggest that Rambam places any inherent value upon indulging in worldly pleasures or activities. Rather he emphasizes the need for a person to strike the correct balance between extreme character traits, including the need to walk the middle path between overindulgence and abstinence. It is a repeated theme in Rambam’s writings, though, that this balance is not an end in its own right; it merely serves to facilitate and enhance the person’s ability to perceive and thereby connect with God.

Passages are explored from several of Rambam’s writings and his position is shown to be nuanced: a person who naturally overindulges in worldly pleasures should temporarily deprive himself in order to train himself towards the correct balance. The potential danger, however, is that “the foolish ones” will see their sages depriving themselves of pleasures and wrongly imagine that asceticism and self-denial is an end in itself and a method of achieving holiness. It follows that the Torah associates nezirut with sin in order to demonstrate that such behaviour does not represent an ideal state of being. As we proceed to show, Rambam in certain places registers his strong approval of vows and nezirut when “taken in a holy manner”, even going so far as to liken the nazir to a prophet – the highest rung on the ladder of human achievement.

Particularly fascinating is Rabbi S. R. Hirsch’s approach to nezirut. Employing his trademark technique of analysing the halachic details before constructing a symbolic framework, R’ Hirsch demonstrates the existence of a close parallel between the nazir’s prohibitions and the restrictions placed on all people who seek to approach God’s Mikdash. The key to nazir, meaning “separation,” is not abstinence and separation from the physical but rather a temporary spiritual separation for the purpose of focusing on God and spiritual development. By becoming a nazir, one dedicates his or her mind to spiritual pursuits and gains a status of permanent presence in the Mikdash.

Hair growth is explained to represent temporary insulation and separation of the intellect from the rest of society (the metzora, by contrast, must shave his hair, an act that represents the requirement that he must become more socially aware and sensitive). At the conclusion of nezirut, the nazir’s hair is cut—representing the end of his intellectual separation from society. The nazir, having been elevated and inspired by his period of social distancing and insulated contemplation, is now ready to approach the Jewish ideal of participating in and elevating the physical world.

R' Hirsch’s understanding of the profound symbolism underlying the presence and removal of hair may lend additional meaning to the passages dealing with the prophets Eliyahu and Elisha in the book of Melachim. In his superb two-volume analysis of Melachim, R’ Alex Israel highlights the deeply contrasting prophetic styles of the fiery and reclusive Eliyahu on the one hand, and the socially-sensitive and engaged Elisha on the other, tracing these respective traits throughout their respective careers. In one uncharacteristic scene however, Elisha reacts strongly to youths taunting him “Go up Baldhead, Go up Baldhead!”, his curse inciting severe divine retribution.

In examining what might have provoked Elisha to this uncharacteristic response, R’ Alex draws upon sources which contrast Elisha’s baldness with Eliyahu’s hairy disposition (“Ish ba’al se’or”). “Go up Baldhead” could be understood as a mockery of Elisha’s inadequacy when equated with his hairy predecessor. Combining this with R’ Hirsch’s nazirite analysis above, we can add an additional dimension: that the youths were rejecting Elisha’s socially-sensitive prophetic leadership style (symbolised by a lack of hair), respecting only the harsher and stricter style of Eliyahu – whose socially-distant approach indicated by his hairy disposition.

Before concluding, as a matter of hakarat hatov, I would like to thank R’ Alex for his examination of the book of Melachim which I draw upon in this post and which has guided me in my approach to studying Tanach. His analysis not only offers profound insights into the biblical narratives, but even more valuably for me it strikes a difficult balance between introducing ideas and techniques from modern scholarship while remaining fully respectful and loyal to traditional commentaries and other sources. I highly recommend his books to anyone looking to undertake a serious study of the prophetic works.

First posted to Facebook 24 May 2020, here.