Jewish Modesty, Humility and Human Dignity

When I'm in Israel, one of my pre-Shabbat rituals is to have some Cholent and Kugel at Hadar Geulah, a restaurant in Jerusalem's Geula neighborhood. I'm actually quite religious about it. Even better than the food, the spectrum of people who mill through the store is so diverse and interesting that I always come away with some kind of new thought. My last winter recess in Israel was no different; I was enjoying my Kugel and Cholent on an early Friday afternoon, when I overheard a conversation between a father and his daughter about the idea of Tzni'ut, the Jewish notion of modesty. It was an enjoyable, but most importantly, thought-provoking discussion.

"Papa, please explain the idea of Tzni'ut to me," the daughter asked. The father, smiling warmly at his daughter, explained how personal modesty was among the most important Jewish values. Indeed, over the ages, Jews not infrequently went to their deaths to protect their dignity. The continuity and generational transmission of Jewish values represented by the conversation was thrilling to behold - a caring father, attentive daughter - beautiful. And then the father got to the crux of the issue: "You see, honey, boys have impulses," he said softly, "the idea of Tzni'ut is that you not stand out and thereby draw their attentions."

It wasn't the first time that I heard such an explanation; in Yeshiva in Israel, I would often hear similar messages on the Eish HaTorah 'Torah Tapes' that I would listen to on long bus rides. And I've always had great difficulty in accepting them.

For one thing, it strikes me that this line of reasoning - which essentially categorizes women as sexual objects and modesty as a device to protect them from naturally impulsive and manipulative males who would seize the first opportunity to take advantage of them - presents a rather apocalyptic and unrealistic world outlook. Modern women are hardly helpless creatures, lacking in the personal and intellectual fortitude to withstand the most beckoning male blandishments. The line of reasoning also presents several conceptual problems. First, why were woman given beauty if only to stifle it - isn't it a part of their identity? Second, the approach seems to contradict the fundamental Torah approach to holiness, whereby people are taught to control their impulses, thereby distinguishing them from the animal. It would therefore seem more consistent to have the laws of Tzni'ut directed to male self-control rather than to female appearances. And further, since when is one enjoined from doing something because of someone else's propensity to sin? May one not accumulate wealth because of some thief's impulse to steal?

But perhaps most fundamentally, such an explanation simply ignores the actual notions of modesty found within the corpus of Jewish law and custom which often apply behind closed doors, out of view, between man and spouse and man and God. Indeed, it is important to note that perhaps the most often quoted verse describing Jewish modesty makes no reference to men, women, or social relationships, but merely encourages one to 'trod modestly with God'.

Jewish modesty is about human dignity. A modest person probes his or her identity and attempts to find his or her representational quality. Does a woman want her allure - her pursuant definition - to be physical, or something more? It's a question of messages, and clothes and other items of personal appearance allow us to moderate the visual message that we send about ourselves, who we are, and hope to be. It's a message that is equally true behind closed doors, when we lie down to sleep, awake in the morning, and of course, is a part of our spiritual and love experiences. Modesty is not a personal fade to black, but a rigorous intellectual quest for our identity, our sense of self-worth, and personal dignity.

The discussion over modesty also touches the essential and, in my opinion, often misunderstood concept of Jewish humility. Humility is commonly associated with self-deprecation, an approach that is problematic for several reasons. First, philosophically, one has difficulty digesting the idea that Judaism, which places such paramount importance on truth, would essentially encourage people to lie. Second, taken to an extreme, self-deprecation can be entirely dysfunctional. Would it make sense for someone who knows CPR, to deny or deprecate his abilities and refrain from immediately stepping forward to attempt to save a person with cardiac arrest?

Humility is actually another facet of personal introspection, namely personal honesty. In the realm of attempting to project images of ourselves, the Torah tells us to stay true to who we are. If we aren't honest - if we overestimate ourselves - our true identity may be lost in a misguided effort to project ourselves as something different that what we really are. A star student who deludes himself of his potential as a star athlete will waste his time and energy pursuing athleticism instead of developing his mind. Ironically, those who deprecate themselves and purposely underestimate their abilities are actually committing the same error that humility was meant to prevent! Humility is about maximizing our potential, uncovering our strengths, weaknesses - ourselves - and living the most accomplished and fulfilling life that we possibly can.

Getting in touch with ourselves and who we are is something that we should do more often. College is a time of great challenges, but also great discoveries. College is the time when our eyes are opened to the large and beautiful world around us. It's a time of almost unbridled hope. Yet it should also be the time when we gain a greater understanding and appreciation of ourselves and our true potential so that our lives may be properly lived, for the sake of our self, our faith, and mankind.

Yigal M. Gross is the Opinions Editor of The Commentator