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Scott Kahn Three weeks ago, I released an episode of the Orthodox Conundrum Podcast entitled,
“A $10,000 Bottle of Scotch: Alcohol Abuse, Conspicuous Consumption, and Orthodox Life Today.”
It has become one of the podcast’s most downloaded episodes, and its message decrying many communities’ increasing emphasis of materialism has resonated with a large number of listeners.
The podcast opened with a discussion of “Toameha,” which traditionally meant the custom of tasting food on Friday afternoon to make sure that it was properly seasoned for Shabbat, but has become in certain circles an excuse for a type of erev Shabbat boys’ club, with an elaborate spread and expensive liquor.
It is troubling that many in the Orthodox community take pride in their lavish spending. It is equally troubling that the consumption of alcohol has become a sine qua non for many Orthodox culinary events. But what bothers me the most is that overt materialism and overindulgence in alcohol are implicitly defended as being essential parts of mitzvah observance.
Indeed, the obvious halachic problems with many Toameha clubs - gluttony, drunkenness, staying away from home when one should be helping to prepare for Shabbat, ruining one’s appetite for Friday night dinner, and more - are easily ignored when Toameha is considered a religious desideratum.
There are many other examples where people do what they want to do, think what they want to think, while conveniently and retroactively finding a Torah source that confirms their choices. As I mentioned on the podcast, a fine example of this was offered by Mishpacha magazine in its profile of millionaire businessman Yoeli Landau, who only flies by private jet. His reasoning? “First of all,” he explains, “I really think that Hashem created shefa so that Yidden should enjoy abundance. If Hashem blessed someone with wealth, and his personal conduct does not come on account of his generosity to tzedakah, then why should he refrain from having a private jet?
“But there’s something deeper here. I think that when someone is generous toward himself, he can then be generous to others. I know enough gvirim who live frugally. They think and rethink every expense, pinching and scrimping wherever possible. You can imagine what their tzedakah is like.
“And I have a third consideration — the spiritual component. With the private jet, I’m not dependent on airline schedules, and this way I can plan my trips in a way that I will never miss out on davening with a minyan. For me, that’s a very firm principle. It’s one of the secrets without which it’s not possible to have birchas Shamayim. Plus, it spares me from walking around in airports, which present serious challenges in shemiras einayim.”
It is possible that Mr. Landau is sincere in his belief that flying on a private jet is somehow a fulfillment of God’s will. I have a harder time believing that those who espouse such practices would have done so before attaining wealth of this magnitude. Is his decision to indulge in this incomparable luxury a result of studying Torah sources, or do the Torah sources justify a decision - consciously or otherwise - that he already wanted to make?
According to some commentators, the Torah itself describes this psychological process when Jacob’s sons decided to sell their brother Joseph into slavery. The brothers were convinced that Joseph intended to harm them, and responded by striking first. Yet the text indicates that they were likely fooling themselves rather than engaging in sober judgment, as they conclude their plans by saying, “And let us see what will become of his dreams,” and then stripping him of his special coat, indicating that their jealousy of Joseph was a greater part of their reasoning than they would have liked to admit.
The Ramban famously interprets the Torah commandment of kedoshim tehiyu - to “be holy” - as referring to the requirement to refrain from indulging in excess, particularly when that excess is not explicitly prohibited by Torah law. The Ramban does not view this as a stringency for the pious, but as an essential Torah value; in fact, he argues that it is parallel to the first of the Ten Commandments, “I am Hashem your God.”
