My family has historically (and with Rabbinical support, given our peculiar contrarian tendencies) sent our sons to non-Jewish high schools. They tend to stand out in these schools, with kippah and peyos, sidelocks so long that they have to be rolled up and tucked away just to keep them neat and in order.
But #2 son, who is not bad looking (for a guy) used to bring his peyos in front of his ears, and even unroll them (they form impressive helixes). When asked why, he explained that when his peyos were highly visible, girls were much less likely to physically approach and try to touch him.
Most people instinctively think it is a good thing to be attractive to other people. Attracting others may be seen as desirable on the surface, but even a cursory consideration for what happens next is important. Our actions have consequences – both in the moment and in the longer run as well.
Classically, and in the Torah, long hair – being unkempt – was also a way to keep others from approaching, a way to stand out as someone who is not fully integrated into normal society. We are commanded (L. 15:31) “to be nazir against impurity,” to isolate and quarantine ourselves away from things that mean we cannot elevate toward G-d. And a person who had the spiritual ailment tzaraas had to be quarantined – and while in that state, they did not cut their hair. When they subsequently cut their hair, it showed everyone that the person had essentially started over, and is now welcome within normal society once again.
We have a similar phenomenon with the attractive woman who is captured in war. She can marry her captor – but as a part of the process of starting over, her hair is shorn. She starts again, with cut hair, as a new person.
The Nazirite (Nazir) is the most famous example of a person who, when in the state of nezirus, does not cut their hair at all – shagginess was a key identifier. It is when they leave that state that they cut their hair, and re-enter society.
The obvious question is: why?
And I think the answer lies in the first person in the Torah who, we are told, receives a haircut. That person is Joseph, whose hair is cut when he leaves prison and is about to be presented to Pharaoh as a dream interpreter.
Why was Joseph in prison? Because he was accused by Potiphar’s wife of impropriety. And how did that happen? Because Joseph was “beautiful in form and appearance.”(G. 39:6) It seems he did not realize the downside risks of attracting the attentions of his boss’s wife.
I would like to suggest that Joseph was, while in prison, the first Nazir, setting the trend for all Nazir to follow. This is supported in the text: the only person who is referred to as nezer in the entirety of the Torah is Joseph! It is part of the blessings of both Jacob and Moshe, who both say
| Jacob’s blessing | Moshe’s blessing |
| The blessings of your father Surpass the blessings of my ancestors, To the utmost bounds of the eternal hills. May they rest on the head of Joseph, On the brow of the nazir of his brothers. |
With the bounty of earth and its fullness, And the favor of the Presence in the Bush. May these rest on the head of Joseph, On the crown of the nazir of his brothers. |
These blessings of Joseph bookend the use of this word from the beginning to the end of the Torah!
So what is a nazir really supposed to be all about? We could suggest that the purpose of being a nazir is to relive Joseph’s experience in prison. What was the meaning of that experience?
Consider that when Joseph was a youth, he told his brothers dreams, and he bore tales of his brothers to his father – heedless of the consequences. And then he was unaware of the consequences of attracting Poptiphar’s wife. Joseph is then sent to prison. He is separated from his family, as well as from the rest of society – a foreshadowing of his blessings, as the nazir of his brothers.
The Joseph who comes out of prison is a changed man! No longer does he ignore the short-term consequences. Instead, Joseph has become someone who thinks much more long term. For the dreams of the Butler and Baker, Joseph looks three days ahead[1], and then for Pharoah’s dream he sees 14 years ahead! When Joseph is reunited with his brothers, there is no sign of the impetuous youth who said whatever he was thinking: instead, the new Joseph took his time and considered and strategized.
This may well be what a nazir is supposed to do: take that time to try to understand their life in perspective, to try to understand the perspectives of others.
Indeed, the use of the word nazir elsewhere in the text reinforces this. The gold diadem, bearing the words Holy For G-d, is twice called “The Holy Nezer.” Perhaps this is because the diadem, like long hair, indicates separation from all other people. But perhaps it also suggests that, mounted as it is on the head, that the purpose of nezer/nazir is all about what goes on in the mind, changing how a person thinks about themselves and their role in the world, and the consequences of their actions going forward.
The biggest missing piece is why the nazir is forbidden from consuming specific things, including wine[2], vinegar or any contact with grape vines at all. The alcohol part is easily understood: someone who is supposed to be contemplative needs to be sober, not setting themselves up to evade consequences. But on top of this, the Nazir is forbidden from having any contact with grapes: whether wine or vinegar or even just the grapevine. Why?
Might forbidding grapevines be a way for the nazir to see the above hint, and try to identify with Joseph? After all, there are only two grapevines in the Torah – the one Noah cultivates, to his detriment. And the second mention of grapevines are in the dreams of the Butler – the dreams that Joseph, the prisoner, interprets! So the practicing Nazir who knows the text of the Torah may well see the hint as a way to identify with Joseph and his transformation in prison.
Or perhaps it might be because grapes themselves involve consequences of all kinds: growing grapes requires extraordinary. Wine does not make itself; the process from seeding to cultivation to fermentation, etc. is slow and careful. And even once there is wine, the vintner must consider the consequences carefully: will he wisely use wine to get drunk as a way to bring brothers together (as Joseph did when, disguised, he hosted his brothers), or will he foolishly use drunkenness to ruin his life (as Noah did)? Grapes require one to think through consequences, for good and for ill!
Being a nazir, the text shows us through its use throughout the text, is about being special and isolated, untouched by others. Mental isolation is easier to achieve when we are also physically isolated – such as by being in prison.
Joseph, the “in the moment” youth, is transformed through his prison experience into the Master Planner, and subsequently receiving the blessing of being the “elect” (nazir) of his brothers. Prison, in this case, seems to achieve its essential purpose as we understand it today, as Joseph is rehabilitated through his prison experience, and comes out a new man, with a fresh haircut and a newfound appreciation for G-d’s role in our lives.
- Not seeing the dreams also as projections for Israel and Egypt 3 (hundred years) later was perhaps a reason he stayed in prison for an extra 2 years – to give him even more perspective. ↑
- Priests are also forbidden from intoxicating drinks while serving in the Mikdash – they, too, are supposed to be mindful. Which might suggest why they also must refrain from shaving the corners of their beards/wisdom – retaining a bit of the element of a nazir. ↑