Beginners Guide To Judaism
The Jewish Path to Balance: Why the Torah Rejects Extreme Asceticism
True holiness lies in harmony — not deprivation. Judaism calls for joyful, balanced living where caring for the body is part of serving God.

In this column, we’ll explore the topic of self-denial, with classical sources that help clarify its proper place in Jewish life.
The Kuzari: Balance, Not Asceticism
The Kuzari (Part II, section 50) writes: “The Torah of Moshe did not enslave us to asceticism, but rather guided us to the balanced path — to give every faculty of the body and soul its proper share, without excess. For excess in one power leads to deficiency in another… Most fasting is not considered divine service for one whose desires are weak and whose body is frail; for him, it is better to strengthen and refine his body. Likewise, poverty is not a virtue when one’s livelihood allows comfort, especially if he has a family to care for and his intentions are for the sake of Heaven. The Torah teaches that we can draw near to God through awe, love, or joy — and each of these is a true path. Your humility on a fast day is not closer to God than your joy on Shabbat or a festival. And if your joy overflows into song and dance — that, too, is worship and divine attachment.”
In other words, the Torah does not glorify deprivation. Judaism is not a religion of self-punishment but of harmony — a life in which body and soul coexist in sanctity and joy.
The Obligation to Enjoy Life
The Maggid of Dubno illustrated this with a parable (in Kochav MiYaakov, on the Haftarah of Vayikra) about the verse: “You have not called upon Me, Jacob, for you have grown weary of Me, Israel” (Yeshayahu 43:22).
He told of a rich man who hired a boy to carry a small bundle. When the boy returned drenched in sweat, the rich man realized he must have carried the wrong package — for what he had been asked to carry was light and effortless. Likewise, said the Maggid, if one finds serving God exhausting, he must be doing something wrong.
The Torah itself says: “For this matter is very near to you” (Devarim 30:14). If one feels religion as a burden, it’s time for introspection.
Similarly, Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz (Daas Torah, Bereishit) warned that Torah should never become a “burden” on a person. As the Talmud says (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 9:1): “Is it not enough what the Torah has already forbidden you?”
He emphasized the verse: “You shall keep My statutes and My laws, which man shall do and live by them” (Vayikra 18:5). If one feels that being Jewish makes him miserable, something is off course.
The True Jewish Ascetic
The Jewish ascetic is not a pale, joyless monk cut off from the world. That image comes largely from Christian influence, not from Judaism. A true parush lives much like everyone else outwardly, but fills his inner life with holiness and spiritual purpose. His gradual distancing from physical indulgence happens naturally, as his inner yearnings deepen — not from external force, but from genuine spiritual desire cultivated over years of divine service.
Why “Self-Care” Isn’t Emphasized in the Stories of the Sages
Some claim that biographies of great rabbis rarely mention balance or bodily care — only their holiness and abstinence. This is because such books emphasize miracles and saintliness, not daily life. Those who actually knew the great Torah leaders can attest that they were joyful, calm, and kind people, not ascetics. They found immense pleasure in Torah study and mitzvot, yet they did not neglect basic self-care.
Many compilers simply omitted the ordinary, “human” aspects because they seemed unremarkable beside tales of holiness. Moreover, as later authorities noted, not every practice of the ancients suits our generation, weakened as it is both physically and spiritually.
Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner added that most biographies record only the final results of greatness — not the struggles, failures, and growth that preceded them (Lada’at Be’artzecha, p. 359).
The Approach of the Ethical Masters (Sifrei Mussar)
Some argue that even books of ethics rarely discuss caring for the body. The reason, say the commentators, is that it’s so obvious to any thinking person that one must maintain peace of mind and health that they saw no need to stress it. However, ba’alei teshuva (newly observant Jews), who tend to distrust their instincts and overcorrect, sometimes neglect their physical needs in pursuit of spiritual intensity — and therefore need special guidance toward balance.
The Ravad and Rabbeinu Yonah
The Ravad (Sha’ar HaKedusha) wrote: “A person should not afflict himself lest his heart weaken and his nature deteriorate, causing confusion of mind. Such harm outweighs any benefit, for it prevents him from Torah and prayer. And if he learns, his learning will not be settled, for Torah is acquired only through joy. He must not deny himself from any joy or permitted pleasure done for the sake of Heaven — only guard against indulgence.”
Rabbeinu Yonah (on Mishlei 19:10) similarly explained: “Pleasures were given to man to maintain his body, preserve his health, and broaden his mind. Thought and wisdom require mental calm. As our sages said: ‘A beautiful home, a beautiful wife, and beautiful utensils expand the mind of a person’ (Berachot 57b). This should be one’s intention with permitted enjoyments — to serve God better.”
The Harm of False Piety
In Part III, the Kuzari warns against misguided asceticism: “The hermit who withdraws from society gains no spiritual nourishment. He is not attached to divine light as were the prophets, nor does he engage in wisdom that brings joy as do philosophers. Even if he prays, those prayers eventually lose vitality through repetition. Human nature demands variety — conversation, creativity, generosity, even earning a living. Depriving oneself of these leads to regret, despair, and distance from God, not closeness.”
Maimonides: The Middle Path
Maimonides (Eight Chapters, ch. 5) echoed this: “The perfect Torah makes man natural — following the middle path. One should eat, drink, and engage in permitted pleasures in moderation; dwell in society, not in deserts; wear ordinary clothes, not sackcloth; and not harm his body. The Torah even calls one who denies himself wine a sinner (Bamidbar 6:11). If abstaining from one pleasure makes one a sinner, how much more so one who denies himself many!”
In Mishneh Torah (Hilchot De’ot 3:1), Maimonides codifies this as law, and the Taz (Even HaEzer 25:1) expands: “When one eats and drinks and enjoys life so that he may be strong and healthy to serve God — he is rewarded as one who fasts. There are scholars who sleep little and toil much, and others who sleep more to preserve their strength for Torah. Both are equally rewarded, for both serve Heaven.”
A person is obligated to provide his body and soul with what they need to function. Without emotional balance and rest, one cannot serve God properly or sustain faith over time. This balance will vary by individual, generation, and background — especially for ba’alei teshuva who have experienced both material and spiritual extremes. Wisdom lies in knowing yourself, seeking guidance, and maintaining proportion.
Our purpose in life is to serve God with joy and vitality, and caring for body and soul alike is a mitzvah in itself. As the Ramchal and Chovot HaLevavot explain, preserving emotional and physical health enables the heart to absorb holiness and for mitzvot to truly transform us.
Those who embrace this truth find renewed joy, balance, and spiritual strength. Those who reject it, imagining that suffering is a higher form of worship, misunderstand God’s will — for, as the Torah teaches regarding the Nazir (Bamidbar 6:11), “He must bring an offering to atone for having sinned against his soul.”
Afflicting oneself unnecessarily is not holiness — it is, in the Torah’s own words, a sin.
