VOWS
Have you ever made a New Year’s resolution? Have you ever made a New Year’s resolution and kept it? Now for an even more uncomfortable question: have you ever made a resolution to a spouse or loved one, and violated it? What were the consequences?
This week’s Torah portion Matot begins: “If a person makes a vow to God or swears an oath that binds an obligation upon his soul, then he shall not break his word; all that passes his lips he shall do.” (Numbers 30:3) Lo yacheil devaro; “he shall not break his word.” Yacheil is related to the word chol, which means “profane,” as opposed to qadosh, “holy.” For example, Shabbat is called qadosh, and the work week is chol. Lo yacheil really means: “he shall not profane, he shall not defile, that which is sacred.” Our word is sacred. Our speech is holy. Violating our speech is profanity.
Making promises to begin with is serious business. It’s the reason for the solemnity of the Kol Nidre prayer, placed at the top of the liturgy for the Day of Atonement. It’s the reason for the habit of pious Jews to mutter bli neder under their breath whenever they say they’re going to do something, because they’re so afraid to express an untruth. For example, one might tell a friend: “I’ll meet you for coffee at Harvest Market tomorrow morning at 9, bli neder.” It’s the reason why one of my Rabbinic colleagues vociferously protests against the declaration of wedding vows in a Jewish ceremony. He writes: “There are no wedding vows in Judaism, and the use of that term is a major red flag to me. The Jewish construct of marriage is contractual, not ‘vow-able.’ I understand that it is emotionally powerful to make a pledge to ‘love and to cherish, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part…,’ but I have come to the conclusion that such statements are halachically forbidden. Nobody can promise to feel a certain way, or even to act a certain way in all circumstances. The only honest commitment we can make is to try to act a certain way in the future, and the only honest statement we can make is about our current hopes and desires. That's why the ketubah is a contract and not a vow.”
“If a person makes a vow to God or swears an oath that binds an obligation upon his soul…” The Hebrew word for vow is neder, as in “Kol Nidre;” the Hebrew word for oath is shevu’ah. The Talmud distinguishes the two terms as follows: a neder is a pledge upon a material object, whereas a shevu’ah is a pledge upon oneself. So, for example, if you say: “I promise never to drink more than one vodka per night,” that’s a neder, a vow regarding a material substance, but if you say to your parent: “I promise to say kaddish for you every day for the full halachically ordained period of eleven months,” that’s a shevu’ah, an oath regarding personal behavior. One can also make the distinction between a negative promise, i.e., the vow to abstain from vodka, and a positive promise, i.e. the oath to say kaddish. Finally, one can make the distinction between a pledge that involves nobody else besides God, or conscience—the vow to abstain from vodka—and a pledge that involves other people—the oath to say kaddish. Just as the Day of Atonement only absolves personal transgressions against God and cannot absolve interpersonal transgressions until the transgressor has sought forgiveness from the injured parties and made restitution, so, too, Kol Nidre only annuls vows made to God and cannot annul oaths made to other individuals.
The question arises, given that the consequences of breaking a promise are so grave, why doesn’t the Torah prohibit promises altogether? It could have contained the categorical commandment: “you shall not make a vow to God or swear an oath that binds an obligation upon your soul,” period. The answer is that oral pledges are useful and even necessary in society. An oath to another person to perform a task or fulfill a responsibility engenders trust and good will. A witness’s sworn testimony in a court of law underlies the reliability of the entire legal system. A vow to oneself can induce proper behavior and self-improvement, such as the vow to go on a diet or go to the gym, or, in the religious sphere, to study Torah every week or lay tefillin every day. Concerning such personal pledges, Maimonides writes: “when a person undertakes vows in order to establish her character or correct her conduct, she is considered eager and praiseworthy.” (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Nedarim 13:23)
On the other hand, the Rabbis generally take a dim view of self-imposed obligation and excessive piety: “are not the Torah’s prohibitions enough for you that you come to add other prohibitions?!” (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 41b) Jewish tradition treats speech the way it considers food, sex, and all other elements of proper human functioning—as necessary, God-given gifts, but nevertheless in need of regulation. For Maimonides, the overriding principle is balance—enjoyment from food and drink, but not overindulgence, pleasure from sexual relations, but only with one’s spouse, chatter and casual conversation, but not gossip, slander, or deceit. With regard to vows, he concludes: “although they may be in service to God, a person should not take too many. Instead one should abstain from those things from which one should abstain, and perform those things one should perform, without taking a vow.” (Hilchot Nedarim 13;24)
In Chassidic thought, the naked human soul is pure, but in order to function in the world, it is clothed in three layers. The innermost layer, closest to the soul, is the garment of thought; the outermost layer, exposed to external reality, is the garment of deeds; in between lies the middle layer, the garment of speech. Our speech separates our thoughts from our deeds, and yet, it is the medium that connects them as well. We can say one thing, and do another. We can certainly think one thing, and say another at the same time. However, righteous living entails alignment among the three garments of the soul, that deeds may match our speech, and our words may match our thoughts. In light of the Chassidic conception, let’s take one final look at the verse from our Torah portion: “If a person makes a vow to God or swears an oath that binds an obligation upon his soul, then he shall not break his word; all that passes his lips he shall do.” It’s instructive that a false declaration becomes a broken promise only when it passes one’s lips, only when it rises to the level of verbal articulation; a mental resolve or intention has no binding force. The passage recognizes that is enormously difficult, if not impossible, to control what goes on inside our heads, but we can certainly control what comes out of our mouths. In terms of the three garments of the soul, we may be ultimately striving for harmony, but in the meantime, let’s concern ourselves most of all with the outermost garments. It is through our words and through our deeds that we present ourselves to the world; it is by our words and by our deeds that we will be judged.
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