Between Frumkeit and Religiosity

  . . . דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם איש או אשה כי יפלא לנדר נדר נזיר להזיר לה’

Speak to the Children of Israel, and you shall say to them: A man or woman who sets himself apart by making a Nazirite vow to abstain for the sake of the Lord. . . . Bamidbar 6:2

Self-imposed severities have become part and parcel of the religious Jewish community of today.^[1] Many people feel the need to express their religious devotion to God through the acceptance of chumrot—stringencies—that conventional Jewish Law does not in actual fact require. They observe Shabbat more strictly; they make sure that they only eat glatt kosher; they use the largest measurements for their Kiddush cup or, in the case of some married women, cover their hair not once, but twice.

No doubt there is room for stringencies within Jewish Law. It may even be argued that it would be healthy and prudent if every human being would have his or her specific mitzvah to which they would devote extra attention.^[2]

In earlier days, the Torah introduced the Nazir law, which states that a person who feels the need to deny himself certain pleasures is permitted, and even encouraged, to do so.^[3] Sometimes people have to sort out their religious priorities, and they feel that they can achieve this goal only when they abstain from certain liberties, the practice of which would tempt them beyond the border of the permissible.^[4]

The Nazir: striking a balance

What many religious people today seem to forget is that striking the right balance will not be achieved by excessive forms of abstinence, but by modest behavioral changes accompanied by some measure of slight discomfort. In the case of the Nazir, the Torah requires abstinence from certain alcoholic drinks and leaving the hair untrimmed and the beard unshaved. Nothing more. According to Mishnaic tradition, this should not last longer than thirty days.^[5] It seems to be warning us that longer periods of abstinence would be counterproductive.

Most interesting is the fact that at the end of this thirty-day period, a sin offering has to be brought by the very individuals who took these stringencies upon themselves.^[6] Besides this, when the period is over, the Nazirite is commanded to drink wine.^[7] This means that the abstinence from permitted pleasures requires atonement because such stringencies are in fact, and under normal circumstances, prohibited.^[8] The only reason why such restrictions are permitted for short periods is that they will result in the possibility of enjoying these pleasures at a later stage, in a way that is part of one’s religious experience, that is, as a human being who is able to enjoy the gifts of the Almighty.^[9] And this is the reason why the Nazirite is told to drink wine. The Nazirite must, after the period of abstinence, be able to drink wine in the proper, elevated way. It is not the abstinence from wine and other alcoholic drinks that is a major achievement, but the art of enjoying them in the right spirit and with the correct intentions. This is a much greater achievement.

It should be made clear that this is true only when the Torah permits the use of these delights. Drug abuse would not be considered permitted pleasures, since use of these drugs may lead to a kind of addiction from which few, if any, are able to free themselves. They are detrimental to the mental and physical health of the human being. Ultimately they destroy the capacity to enjoy life in the higher sense of the word.

Chumrah as escape

Still, sometimes certain stringencies are nothing less than a form of escape—a mechanism for self-deception. They are used to hide a lack of proper observance in other religious matters and are often used to cloak unethical behavior. When people do wrong in their relationship with their fellowman but hide behind their insistence on glatt kosher food, we face a deliberate and vulgar misuse of the concept of chumrot (sing. chumrah—stringency). (Asking for glatt kosher food while sitting in jail for having committed a criminal offence is tantamount to asking, after one has murdered both parents, for dispensation on the grounds that one is an orphan.)

The Talmud recounts the story of a scholar by the name of Eliezer Ze’era, who wore black shoes (uncommon in those days) as a sign of mourning for the destruction of Jerusalem. The Sages considered this an act of arrogance. They felt that he was trying to show off, so they put him in jail!^[10]

On another occasion, the Sages opposed a “very religious” person who refused to follow a lenient ruling that they had decided on and nearly excommunicated him.^[11]

The difficulty of making things easy

A story has been told that a rabbi once came to see the famous Jerusalem sage and authority Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach. He asked him if a certain chumrah that was practiced in his community had any foundation in Halakhah or simply belonged to the world of religious fancy. The sage responded that there was no foundation for such a stringency and advised the rabbi to tell his community to repeal this practice. Several weeks later, the Jerusalem sage met the rabbi and asked him if he had told his community to stop practicing this mistaken chumrah. The rabbi turned to the sage and said half-jokingly, “No, it is a leniency that my congregation cannot live with.”^[12]

Questions to Ponder

1. Rabbi Cardozo makes a distinction between genuine religiosity and frumkeit—religious performance divorced from inner integrity. How do you personally tell the difference in your own life? At what point does devotion become a form of spiritual theater?
2. If excessive stringency requires atonement, as the Nazir’s sin offering suggests, why do contemporary religious communities often celebrate chumrot as moral achievements? What does this say about our collective religious psychology?
3. The essay implies that long-term abstinence is not holiness but imbalance. Do you see self-denial as a sign of strength or fear? When might stringency be a refusal to grow rather than a step toward growth? Have you ever seen—or practiced—religious exactitude as a way to avoid harder ethical demands?
4. The story of Eliezer Ze’era suggests that visible piety can be an act of arrogance. How do we distinguish between authentic personal expression and religious exhibitionism? Is humility compatible with conspicuous religious difference?
5. Why might choosing stringency over leniency be seen as a threat to religious authority or communal cohesion? Do communities need religious difficulty to feel authentic? What fears are exposed when religious life becomes easier rather than harder?
6. In some communities, taking on certain chumrot is seen as a mark of belonging to that particular community. Do you think that communal leaders should actively try to discourage harmful chumrot, even at the risk of alienating sincere but misguided believers?

Notes

[1] This essay was originally published in Nathan Lopes Cardozo, Jewish Law as Rebellion: A Plea for Religious Authenticity and Halachic Courage (Urim, 2018), chap. 17.

^[2] See Shabbat 118b.

^[3] See Bamidbar 6.

^[4] For a broad overview of this topic, see Sara Epstein Weinstein, Piety and Fanaticism: Rabbinic Criticism of Religious Stringency (Jason Aronson, 1997); Yehuda Levi, “Laudable, Boorish, and Heretical Chumroth (Stringencies),” in Torah Study: A Survey of Classic Sources on Timely Issues, trans. Raphael N. Levi (Feldheim, 2002), 114–134.

^[5] According to Mishnah Nazir 1:3, an ordinary acceptance of nezirut lasts no longer than thirty days.

^[6] Bamidbar 6:13–21.

^[7] Bamidbar 6:20.

^[8] See Sifrei Bamidbar, Horowitz ed., section 30; Nedarim 10a. For a more positive view of the Nazirite, see Sifrei Zuta, Horowitz ed., on Bamidbar 6:8; Ta’anit 11. See also the sources cited by Steven Fraade, “The Nazirite in Ancient Judaism (Selected Texts),” in Ascetic Behavior in Greco-Roman Antiquity, ed. Vincent L. Wimbush (Fortress Press, 1990), 213–233.

^[9] See JT Nedarim 9:1, 41b.

^[10] Bava Kamma 59.

^[11] Bava Kamma 81b.

^[12] See “Kuntres Netivot Shlomo,” Yeshurun: Me’asef Torani 15 (2005): 540.