We see it all the time in our communities.  A kid goes through our Jewish day school system, and then goes off to study for a year in an Israeli yeshivah.  At which point the student byes into the message of his Yeshiva in its entirety and becomes much more right wing in his observance of Judaism.  He replaces his knitted kipah srugah for a black hat; he tells his parents I don't want to go to Columbia or B.U.;  she tells her parents that she won't eat their salad and vegetables anymore.  Their younger siblings say that their older brother or sister has now "flipped out."  In short, the student rejects the more modern lifestyle of his society in favor of a more demanding and ultra-strict lifestyle.

Why is this happening?  Why are kids ejecting modern orthodoxy in favor of more right wing Judaism?

I believe that their reaction is in many cases an understandable one, and in fact it has a long tradition in our teachings.  In this week's parshah, the Torah juxtaposes two teachings: first the Torah teaches us about a Sotah.  A sotah is a woman accused of committing adultery who the Torah declares must go before a court and undertake an ordeal to prove her innocence.  And immediately following this passage, the Torah teaches us about a Nazir, a religious ascetic, a person who withdraws from the world and says I won't drink any wine, and I won't cut my hair.

Now in our tradition we believe that an important hermeneutic technique is understanding why the Torah juxtaposes two separate concepts.  And so, Rashi quoting a passage from the Gemara explains: the Torah places the passage of the Sotah next to the passage of Nazir because, kol ha-roeh sotah be-kilkulah ya-zir atsmo min ha-yayin she-hu mevie lidei niuf, whoever sees this adulterous woman in her shame, will withdraw himself from wine, since wine is what leads a person to adultery.   The Nazir sees the debauchery of society and his response is, I want no part of such a system--I will withdraw.  I will lead a pure life; a life without wine; a life without an emphasis on brushing your hair.  This will prevent me from sinning like the Sotah.

And to a certain extent this is the reaction of our high school students who go off to Israel.  They are rebelling against the lifestyle of their community, against perceived contradictions within their societies.  So they embrace ultra-orthodoxy because it offers them what their communities did not: the need to make sacrifices, withdrawal from pleasure, and a clear definition of limits.  And so our students declare, I want no part of a system that leads to so easily into sins.  I will withdraw.  I will become a purer person.

And according to Ramban these students are probably making the right decision.  Ramban explains that a Nazir when he finishes his term as a Nazir must bring a korban, a sin-ofering.  And the reason why he must bring a korban, according to Ramban is that until now he was separated from the world and entirely devoted to service of God.  Now, however, that he is returning to the material cultures of the world, he must bring a korban as a way of atonement for his sin of returning to the world.

So Ramban supports the lifestyle of these students  The proper thing to do when you see excess and materialism is to withdraw into your own cocoon, and retreat onto God.

Yet, notwithstanding Ramban, there is a downside to this approach, because there is another stream of thought in Judaism that maintains that the way to connect to God is not by withdrawing from material pleasures but by using them to enhance your spiritual life.  And so Rambam in his Mishneh Torah (Deot 3:1) writes that a person should not say to himself:  "Since material desires lead a person to sin, I will avoid these physical pleasures like wine, meat, and sex."  For according to Rambam this is a Christian concept; it’s the practice of the monks.  But Judaism teaches, she-lo yimaneh adam atsmo elah mi-devarim she-manah ha-torah bilvad, that a person should only withdraw from those things that the torah itself explicitly forbids.  And so, Rambam, continues this is the reason why the Torah says that a Nazir must bring a sin-offering--because the Nazir has sinned in forbidding upon himself that which the torah has permitted.

And so we see a fundamental dispute between Ramban, Nachmanides, and Rambam, Maimonides.  Ramban believes the way to be closest to God is by withdrawing from the physical pleasures of the world, while Rambam says that the way to come closest to God is by using the physical pleasures as a way of enhancing our love of God.  And this debate plays itself out in their attitude to the Nazir.  Ramban admires the Nazir, while Rambam criticizes him.

I want to take Rambam's argument a step further.  Rambam says that the attitude of Nazir is wrongful--it's not the way to serve God.  However, I maintain that its not only wrongful it's also dangerous.

Let's look again at the connection between a Sotah and a Nazir.  Now we have seen Rashi explain that the Torah places these two passages together because when someone sees a person committing adultery a natural reaction is to withdraw from the world.  But maybe there is another reason for the Torah placing these two passages together.
 
Rashi was commenting on a legal text, but we also have a narrative text that juxtaposes a Nazir to a Sotah.   I am referring to the story of Shimshon, Samson (whose story is in fact the Haftorah for this week's parshah.)  Now Shimshon was a Nazir from the womb.  An angel came to his barren mother and told him that your child will be a savior to the Jewish people, but you must raise him as a Nazir.  Don't let him drink wine or cut his hair.

So Shimshon was a Nazir.  And in his behavior, he stood out from the rest of the Jewish people.  He slew the Pelishtim by himself, he was a lone warrior fighting on behalf of the Jewish people.

But Shimshon had a weakness.  His weakness was his licentiousness; and more specifically his weakness was his attraction to women who betrayed him--who are really analogous to the Sotah who is the paradigm of a betraying woman.  All through the story of Shimshon, we hear about women who Shimshon trusts, who later try to trap him.  First in chapter 14, Shimshon's wife tells the Pelishtim the answer to a riddle that Shimshon had presented to the Pelishtim.  Then in Chapter 16, Shimshon cohorts with a prostitute--and he wakes in the middle of the night to defend himself against the Pelishtim.  And then again the secret of Shimshon's strength, his uncut hair, is revealed by another woman, his wife Delilah.

Now what I think we are seeing here throughout the Shimshon story, is once again the connection between a Nazir and a Sotah.  These women in Shimshon's life are all betraying him--they are the Sotah.  However, there is major difference in the story of Shimshon.  For in the Torah, the Nazir was said to have arisen because he saw the actions of the Sotah.  Here that cannot be the case.  The juxtaposition is reversed.  Shimshon was a Nazir from birth and, yet, he spends his life being connected to betraying women.

I believe the message of this Shimshon story, and perhaps also the reason why Nazir is placed next to Sotah in the Torah is to teach us that if you are going to live an extreme lifestyle, a reactionary lifestyle, the reality is that you will be more likely to commit a drastic and major sin.  The potential for a major and dramatic failure is great.

So Rambam suggests one reason why a Nazir is committing a sin is because he withdraws from God's pleasures in the world.  But I am suggesting that we go further.  A Nazir is a dangerous lifestyle to lead, becaue when you live on the extremes, you are opening yourself up to the potential for a great failure.  This is the connection between Nazir and Sotah.  The two lifestyles relate to each other.  As strange as it sounds: The person who is most likely to relate with a Sotah is in fact the holy Nazir.

And this to me is precisely what is so dangerous about the reaction of these students in Israel.  I am all for everyone committing themselves to Judaism in a serious fashion, but when the change comes so sudden, and its so reactionary, and so extreme, the potential for a great failure is scary.  Extremes breed extremes.

I work with many people who are not yet fully observant of the more basic laws of Judaism, like Shabbat and Kashrut.  When I see someone coming over to me, after only a short time of studying and declare I want to be fully kosher and fully shomer shabbat.  I get very nervous, because the change is usually so great and so fast that it is impossible to maintain it.  When the reaction is too extreme, it is a recipe for failure.

So the message of the connection between Nazir and Sotah is one that we can all take with us in our daily lives.  When we see a situation that concerns us and troubles, don't immediately act to radically reform the situation.  The failure of the paradigmatic Nazir, Shimshon, reminds us that real progress, true progress is made only through small and steady