Physical Intimacy I: Marital Intimacy

Learning about Judaism and sexual intimacy can be as daunting as it is important, and for good reason. Though sexuality is a core part of who we are as people, with significant implications for our identities and relationships—and for society as a whole—it is not a simple area to discuss.

The relevant concepts and halachot must be understood with clarity and approached with tzeniut. We understand tzeniut as a principle that guides us to draw contextually-sensitive boundaries around our self-exposure and our physicality. While the need to draw boundaries can present challenges for learning about sexual intimacy, it also leaves room for openness, depending on tone and context.

Tension over how openly to study sexual matters can be traced back to the Mishna. Our sages prohibit public teaching regarding sexual prohibitions, indicating that we need to take great care in discussing even halachic topics when they relate to sexual intercourse:

The halachot related to sexual intercourse are critically important, with serious and far-reaching implications. They must be expounded in full detail. However, this is appropriate only in the context of private study.

Even private study, however, has its limits:

In defense of Rav Kahana, he likely finds himself in this predicament because he lacked other resources for learning about these halachot. When appropriate channels for learning are lacking, people find their information in other ways. Still, Rav Kahana, in his zeal to learn from Rav’s personal example, crosses a red line. It is unacceptable to violate a married couple’s privacy, even with the loftiest of motives. Rav speaks for himself and his wife in making this clear.

At the same time, the Talmud chooses to share what Rav Kahana discovers, that his revered Rav takes frank pleasure in his sexual relationship with his wife. Perhaps most significant, the Talmud gives Rav Kahana the last word, as though to reinforce his point that, within limits, we must have an opportunity to emulate Torah scholars in every area of our lives.

This series will try to be open, sensitive, and tzanua. We will share general, source-based information that can be especially important in thinking about sexuality and understanding its halachic framework, and will leave the more practical and specific details for personal instruction.

We begin by taking a brief look at the range of approaches to sexual intimacy in our tradition, embracing the view that physical intimacy is an essential element of the marital relationship, including its emotional and spiritual aspects. We then discuss the broader interpersonal aspects of marriage that inform a couple’s pleasureful physical intimacy. Next, we explore the centrality of the sexual relationship to marriage, with a focus on how that is expressed halachically, and we conclude by exploring some of the halachic limits on intimacy, even within marriage.

In some ways, we can compare the discussions of sexuality in traditional sources to other discussions about enjoying any aspect of the physical world. Seen from this perspective, differing rabbinic attitudes toward sexuality are part of a wider debate about the proper role of physical pleasure in our lives.

I. Embracing Pleasure Some sources, like the passage describing Rav’s relish of his conjugal relationship, seem to embrace physical pleasure. This school of thought sees taking pleasure in the God-given physical world as an essential element of religious life. As the Talmud Yerushalmi teaches, we are called to account in the next world if we deny ourselves physical pleasures in this one:

II. Elevating Asceticism Other sources have a more ascetic bent, viewing physical pleasures as animalistic distractions from cultivating the spirit. To the extent that they cannot be avoided, such pleasures must be carefully regulated. For example, Imma Shalom describes her husband, Rabbi Eliezer, as treating sexual relations as a sort of desperate religious duty:

A simple reading of this text reveals sexual intimacy characterized by extreme restraint. In this vein, Rabbi Yehuda Ha-nassi takes pride on his deathbed for having refrained from all physical pleasures:

III. Exercising Moderation Many sources stake out a middle ground, calling for moderation of physical pleasure. For example, Ramban interprets the Torah’s call to live with sanctity as mandating restraint from overindulgence in pleasures of the flesh, including drinking wine, eating meat, and sexual intercourse.

Even though sexual relations between husband and wife are fully permissible, Ramban cautions against a life driven by free fulfillment of desires. In calling basic physical pleasures potentially degrading acts, Ramban seems to contrast physicality and holiness. Rather than deny human physicality, however, he conceives of the exercise of conscious choices about it as an embodiment of sanctity.

The Sexual Drive

One might think that the surest path to making good sexual choices would lie in subduing the sexual drive. The Talmud recounts that, in the time of the prophet Zecharya, our sages prayed for the eradication of the sexual drive, based on a mistaken impression that it leads only to sin, and thus could be dispensed with.

Our sages recognize that the sexual drive is not only essential for reproduction, but also provides indispensable motivation for purposeful action and functioning in the world. The sexual drive requires caution; its personification is blinded before release. Still, its role in enabling the full realization of human potential should not be trivialized.

The critical importance of the sexual drive as an engine of behavior does not mean that it is our only drive, or need always take precedence over other considerations, as demonstrated by this Talmudic tale:

Our sages present the erotic fantasy elements of this story with care, and this heightens the significance of the narrative denouement. The protagonist pays a remarkable amount of money up front to experience what he perceives as the height of pleasure, seemingly unaware of the incongruity of this action with his attachment to the mitzva of tzitzit. We see the power of the sexual drive in full force, and how far one may be tempted to go to satisfy it. And yet, even at its greatest height, the sexual drive can and sometimes must be overcome. Witnessing the conquest of a force she has learned to exploit impels the prostitute to change her life, and to seek her sexual satisfaction in a new context.

With all its power, the sexual drive is not all-powerful. When commitment to Torah and mitzvot comes in conflict with sexual desires, Torah and mitzvot can prevail. In the story’s happy ending, the prostitute converts, and she and her recalcitrant client marry, their choices rewarded. The Talmud notes that they keep the brothel sheets for their marital bed. This suggests that within the framework of Halacha, their sex drive will now be satisfied, not renounced.

Spiritual Potential

The nuanced message that the satisfaction of our sex drives should take place within the context of our broader religious commitments can present real challenges. Marriage (and nidda observance, which we discuss below) is our halachic framework for sexual activity. In modern Western society, marriage takes place well into adulthood, typically at least a decade after the onset of puberty.

In many communities, tzeniut around sexual topics is interpreted in a way that complicates sexual development by limiting the information available to young people. Thus, many halachically observant Jews face years in which their sexual expression or self-exploration seems put on hold, their education in sexuality overwhelmed by “don’ts.” Unfortunately, it is often a short jump from learning only about prohibitions to experiencing unnecessary guilt and shame over natural curiosity or desires.

A negative or guilt-ridden perspective on physical intimacy fails to reflect the richness of our tradition, as demonstrated by this Talmudic account:

On the festivals, pilgrims to Beit Ha-mikdash would be able to glimpse the keruvim atop the aron kodesh locked in a sexual embrace.¹ That this embrace is meant to represent a positive relationship between the children of Israel and God challenges us to find positive religious significance, even spiritual elevation, in the act of sexual relations.

In the eighteenth century, Rav Yaakov Emden writes in this spirit. He directly dispels some common negative attitudes toward sexual intercourse, highlighting instead its spiritual potential in marriage.

We’ve seen religious value ascribed to refraining from sexual relations. Rav Emden adds another dimension to our discussion, seeing religious value in engaging in sexual relations, in a way that integrates body and soul. To understand how this works in practice, we need to take a step back to look at the general contours of the marital relationship and then see how sexual intimacy deepens and reflects them.

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The final beracha of sheva berachot exuberantly describes the multifaceted potential of the marital relationship:

Husband and wife are meant to be lovers, friends, and companions who bring each other joy and peace. To attempt to be all of these things to another person is not easy, and entails some risk and vulnerability. A husband and wife’s intense closeness can place them in a unique position to cause each other pain. The Talmud recognizes this in its discussion of a husband’s treatment of his wife:

As this Talmudic statement suggests, special care with interpersonal mitzvot is of utmost importance between a husband and wife who wish to realize the potential blessings of their relationship. Indeed, the Tosefta lists a number of interpersonal mitzvot that risk being violated when a match is unsuitable.

From this statement, we can infer that a good marital relationship fulfils mitzvot that express fellowship, such as refraining from revenge or hate and loving one’s fellow. The mitzva to love one’s neighbor is quite broad, and is cited as a source for the obligation to perform acts of chessed, lovingkindness, for others.²

Marriage is built on a foundation of mutual respect, on elevating the “you” without losing sight of the “we” or the “I”. The Talmud highlights the obligation of a husband to respect his wife:

Elsewhere, the Talmud notes that both children and their mothers are obligated to respect the child’s father (when the parents are married):

Beyond these general guidelines, Halacha leaves space for a couple to develop their own relationship dynamic:

In the practical, emotional, and sexual aspects of the marital relationship, the halachic framework leaves much to a couple’s discretion. Within basic parameters, each Jewish marriage is as unique as the personalities of each husband and wife.

Respect and interpersonal sensitivity are central to both emotional and physical intimacy, which are intertwined. These aspects of intimacy can be traced back to Adam and Chava, humanity’s first couple, in two ways.

First, the Torah refers to their sexual union as a form of knowledge:

The Iggeret Ha-kodesh, composed by a thirteenth century Kabbalist, suggests that the term “knew” reflects the potential for sanctity in sexual relations:

Sanctity here is envisioned as an outgrowth of knowledge of each other, when the physical becomes an extension of a broader relationship bond. Rav Soloveitchik adds that the biblical use of the term “knowledge” for sexual relations serves as an indicator of mutual recognition within the sexual relationship:

This implies that a merely physical communion, even within marriage, would be lacking. Sexual relations ideally integrate the full personality of each partner and their concern for each other.

A second verse relating to the union of Adam and Chava provides additional support for an essential link between physical and emotional connection:

Ramban, in his commentary to the Torah, explains the connection referred to by this verse in relational terms:

The couple form an unparalleled, intimate psychological bond. The verse can also be read as referring to conception,³ or, as in this midrash, as a reference to the sexual bond:

One verse reflects both the emotional and physical elements of the marital union.

A Code of Conduct

The physical and emotional bonds build on each other. A Talmudic passage takes as its starting point the premise that the state of a couple’s relationship during the act of conception can affect the child they conceive. Specifically, negative aspects of how each spouse relates to the other during relations could have a negative impact.

By restating the concerns listed in this passage in the positive, we can reveal essential elements for a couple to aspire to in their relationship, inside the bedroom and out.⁴

These should be hallmarks of all aspects of a couple’s intimacy. It is not enough for a couple to respect and know each other, or merely to take pleasure in each other. They must also form a relationship in which their personalities have room to flourish. In this context, sexual relations become a sort of language for communicating with each other, and physical pleasure becomes part of a much larger dialogue.⁵

From the Torah’s discussion of Yaakov’s selective breeding of Lavan’s flock, Rabbeinu Bachya derives that the sanctity of sexual relations is rooted in aspects of this code of conduct.

Rabbanit Dr. Shulamit ben Shaya roots the sacred potential of sexual relations in a conception of sanctity as exclusivity, as expressed by the singularity of the marital bond:

If marriage is simply a union of deeply attached individuals, without a physical component, it misses part of its sacred drive and purpose. Rav Soloveitchik summarizes this idea well:

This understanding of marriage expresses itself in Halacha. Sexual intercourse is halachically central to marriage, since marriage is where Halacha guides us to express and explore this aspect of our humanity.

The Talmud considers husband and wife to be sexually pledged to each other. Rashba suggests that this mutual pledge is a basic condition of marriage, distinct from specific mitzvot related to marital relations:

The couple’s conjugal rights to each other can be waived only through mutual agreement. They are so significant that consistent refusal to have relations can be grounds for divorce, with negative financial repercussions for the refuser.⁶

The Sexual Significance of Kiddushin

Rambam opens his Laws of Marriage with a brief historical sketch, describing marriage as a basic human arrangement that predates the Torah. Sexual relations are a defining element of this institution:

Rambam adds that Jewish marriage has additional significance—Halacha permits sexual relations only following kiddushin, halachic betrothal (and kiddushin are not sufficient to permit them).⁷

Sexual relations within marriage are thus especially significant, given the absence of halachically sanctioned sexual outlets outside it.

Furthermore, by consenting to kiddushin, a woman becomes sexually permitted exclusively to her husband. We can understand the acquisitional aspect of kiddushin as the husband’s assumption of the right to be intimate with his wife:⁸

Although Torah law permits a man to marry multiple wives, nowadays a man can be married to only one woman. This is a legal decree for Ashkenazim,⁹ and a strong, prevalent custom in Sefardi communities. Thus, in practice, a married couple are sexually permitted only to each other.

A married couple’s pledge to each other reflects the exclusivity of their relationship.

The husband is obligated both in the mitzva to procreate, which typically entails having sexual relations, and in an ongoing mitzva to have relations with his wife at regular intervals, mitzvat ona (literally, the mitzva of the season or period of time). Mitzvat ona can be derived from a Torah verse that enjoins a man who marries a second wife not to neglect his marital duties to his first wife:

In his commentary on the verse, Ramban argues that each of the three words “she’arah, kesutah, ve-onatah,” relates to a distinct aspect of intimacy:

Ramban highlights the elements of physical closeness, a protected location, and timing. These evoke, respectively, the revealing vulnerability of sexual relations, the broader context of tzeniut in which they take place, and the significance of regularly setting aside time for physical intimacy. Elsewhere, Ramban calls these three aspects of marital intimacy the essence of marriage:

We discuss other halachic implications of this verse here.

Parameters of Ona

Halachic obligations often have set parameters. The Mishna delineates a minimum frequency, ona, for marital relations, depending on the travel and exertions required by the husband’s occupation. The more he is at home and the less he exerts himself at work (or study), the more often he must be prepared to have relations when his wife is interested:

These intervals are meant to provide a basic framework, though, and not to override a couple’s personal considerations. Shulchan Aruch (drawing from Rambam)¹⁰ notes that the obligation corresponds to a man’s personal situation and state of health. He adds that a woman can waive her rights to ona, as long as the waiver would not interfere with fulfillment of the mitzva to procreate:

Similarly, early halachic authorities establish that a woman is not obligated to be constantly available for relations:

Rav Moshe Feinstein explains that the mitzva of ona does not apply when sexual relations are difficult for a woman:

Indeed, the Talmud describes the mitzva of ona as joyous.¹¹ It notes that a couple are sometimes expected to enjoy relations even outside of the set intervals, and even during pregnancy, further distinguishing the mitzva of ona from the mitzva to procreate:

Rashi understands this statement as requiring a husband to be responsive to his wife’s sexual overtures:

Ra’avad identifies a husband’s responsiveness to his wife at any time as a fulfillment of mitzva ona:

Taking this line of thought a step farther, Rav Moshe Feinstein characterizes this responsiveness as the fundamental, Torah-level obligation of ona:

Dr. Yocheved Debow emphasizes that this mitzva takes the needs of women into account:

Ideally, the mitzva of ona creates a framework for a sexual relationship that is responsive to the needs of both spouses.

Ona at Special Times

Some days or times are seen as especially propitious for marital relations. Relations on Shabbat are a fulfillment of the mitzva of oneg Shabbat, taking pleasure in Shabbat:

Another time that receives special mention is just before separating for a trip. The man about to travel has a special obligation to his wife because we assume that his impending absence will increase his wife’s desire:

Another time designated for ona is mikveh night, coming as it does after a period of separation:

Even so, these onot, too, can be waived. To start with, a husband may not force his wife to have relations:

Later halachic authorities recognize that sexual relations will not always take place on mikveh night. They suggest that other forms of physical intimacy can be considered an element of the mitzva of ona, justifying immersion for physical closeness even when the couple will not be having relations:¹²

Rebbitzens Sara Morozow and Rivka Slonim expand on how to balance a sense of imperative and planning in sexual intimacy with the individual needs and feelings of each spouse:

Given the centrality of the sexual relationship to marriage, and the halachic discussion of mandated frequency of relations, one might expect a complementary discussion of limits.¹³ The Talmud casts men who engage in relations “like roosters” in a negative light:

Rambam seems to interpret this concern in quantitative terms:

A parallel discussion in the Talmud Yerushalmi, however, suggest a more qualitative concern of engaging in relations animalistically:

Keeping sexual relations in check quantitively so that they do not dominate a couple’s relationship may enhance their meaningfulness.

The firmest halachic limit on a married couple’s physical intimacy is the prohibition of having relations during nidda, a woman’s period of menstrual impurity, which lasts from the onset of a uterine bloodflow until immersion in a mikveh.

Intercourse during nidda bears the penalty of karet, spiritual excision, for both parties:

Rabbi Meir suggests that this prohibition is not meant to work against the sexual relationship, but rather serves to enhance marital excitement overall, keeping the husband from taking his wife for granted:

In practice, Rabbi Meir’s observation doesn’t always speak to couples’ experiences, especially since our observance entails more than seven days of separation. Nidda’s impact on intimacy varies from couple to couple. Rabbi Meir’s words also leave open a major question for the couple: How to find an appropriate balance of intimacy and distance during nidda?

On the one hand, even though relations are prohibited to a married couple during nidda, seclusion together (yichud) is permitted:

On the other hand, a range of behaviors, known as harchakot, are designed to keep the couple from being sexually intimate during nidda and to modify their broader sense of intimacy during nidda. (For a discussion of harchakot in practice, see here.)

For instance, a woman does not perform three types of affectionate tasks for her husband during nidda, because they would be more intimate than is appropriate for that time, though such acts are not necessarily a prelude to sexual relations:

Within this passage, concern for intimate behavior is balanced with concern for the relationship. There are ways for a wife to turn down her husband’s bed or to mix his drink, as long as precautions are taken not to lose awareness of it being the time of nidda.

Later halachic authorities add that a husband shares in these constraints.

Similarly, a husband is expected to refrain from overtly flirtatious behavior with his wife during nidda, but is still permitted to take pleasure in looking at her.

Rabbanit Tirza Kelman provides an overview of the significance of harchakot for the marital relationship.¹⁴

The overall sense is one of a relationship cycle that encourages a range of modes for interaction. There are times for leaving aside physical intimacy and times for embracing it, times for greater intimacy and times for greater autonomy, all within the broader framework of an intimate marital relationship, relying on the knowledge that each season gives way to another:

In our next piece, we’ll go on to discuss halachic limits on touch between men and women, in and out of marriage.