What is Shomer Negiah, the Jewish Law that Prohibits Touching?


Shomer negiah is a Hebrew term that refers to a Jewish law that prohibits all physical contact between members of the opposite sex, with the exception of the person you’re married to (and a few others like parents, siblings, and the like).
That means no handshakes, hugs, or anything else, until you put a ring on it.
In popular culture—where hugs and handshakes are commonplace—shomer negiah probably sounds extreme.
Is it?
To answer that, you need to first take a look at shomer negiah in context, which means grappling with the Jewish definitions of love, relationships, commitment, sex, and transcendence.
Love
In Jewish thought, love is understood as “the emotional pleasure you feel when you appreciate the virtues of another person.”1 Love is a choice. You choose—and make the effort—to think about another person’s positive qualities, and that transforms how you feel about him or her.
Love isn’t magic. It’s something you work on, and the more effort you put into focusing on virtues, the stronger your love.
On another level, love is also rooted in giving. The Hebrew word for “give,” hav (הב), shares a grammatical root with ahava (אהבה), “love.” The Jewish idea is that giving leads to love: when I give to you, I have invested a part of myself in you.
That’s why parents feel such a strong love for their children. A young child is helpless—and selfish, and stays up all night crying, or teething, or whatever—yet his parents give to him anyway. They give unconditionally, the child doesn’t know to say—and isn’t able to say—”thank you.” Yet despite that his parents love him, and that’s because unconditional giving leads to unconditional love.
Relationships
But love is one-sided, it’s you appreciating the virtues of someone else. A relationship is when that love is reciprocated, and the strength of that relationship is determined by the person who wants it the least.2 If I love you, but you like me, we’re not in love, we’re in “like.”
A healthy relationship is when each partner makes it his or her responsibility to love, which means: a) focusing on the other’s virtues (and reviewing, and going deeper, and getting an even better and more sophisticated understanding and appreciation for your partner), and b) giving unconditionally.
Love comes at a cost, and its price is commitment.
In a world where it’s a given that you’re going to focus on your partner’s positive qualities—not blind to his or her shortcomings, just opting not to make them the focus of your attention unless, of course, there’s a problem—and you’re giving unconditionally, you are setting yourself up for a successful, long-term, and incredible relationship.
But there’s a catch.
Only one environment makes that level of focus and giving possible—where it’s safe to completely let down your guard—and that’s one where you’ve made a total commitment.
Commitment
Love comes at a cost, and its price is commitment.
Commitment, for the most part, allows you to be vulnerable. You can give of yourself freely and openly, without fearing that your partner may one day just decide he’s had enough.
Commitment is also the reason parents and siblings—and families in general—love each other, despite different personalities, interests, temperaments, and ways of seeing the world, because with family, commitment is assumed.
Commitment isn’t perfect, obviously—some people are bad, or lazy, or tempted and weak, and will make very bad decisions despite their commitments—but it’s the best you’ve got.
On a mystical level, husband and wife are not considered mere partners; rather their souls are united, merging into a greater whole.
In a Jewish marriage that commitment is forever, and is distinct from other commitments—like roommates or partnerships—that are easier to get out of. On a mystical level, husband and wife are not considered partners, and their marriage is not a mere legal formality, rather, it’s seen as if their souls are united, merging into a greater whole.
When you’re in the depths of a committed, giving, loving relationship—like a Jewish marriage—you give 100 percent and expect nothing in return, but get back way more than you bargained for.
And it’s in an environment like that where it’s safe to talk about sex.
Sex
Sex, within the context of a giving, loving relationship, is more than just a way to enhance a relationship. You can love anyone, but you cannot—or at least should not—love anyone with the same level of intimacy and understanding as your spouse. The vulnerability of sex requires the commitment that only marriage provides, and that is one reason why the Torah only permits sex within marriage.
That’s a good thing, too, and that’s why the secret to great sex is commitment. If you want incredible sex, make a commitment for life (and mean it, don’t just invoke the lyrics of Meat Loaf’s 1977 classic, “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”).
A Jewish life is expected to be sexually active—that’s even stipulated in the ketubah, or Jewish marriage contract—but only within the context of a lifelong commitment.
That may sound quaint, or at least antiquated, to contemporary ears. But is it? In the Jewish model, you know where you stand, and when you invest in the relationship, you’re in it forever.
Sex is holy
But sex is more than just a powerful connection (or the way to make babies). In Jewish thought, sex is holy. That’s hinted at in the Hebrew word for the marriage ceremony, kiddushin (קדושין), which comes from the word kadosh (קדוש), holy.3
Using sex as a means to express your deepest love with your spouse takes a powerful physical act and transforms it into something lofty, or spiritual.
On a simple level, holiness is achieved through elevating—or reframing the way you relate to—physical experiences. Using sex as a means to express your deepest love with your spouse takes a powerful physical act and transforms it into something lofty, or spiritual.
But it’s deeper than that.
According to the Talmud,4 the biblical book, the Song of Songs—which, on the surface, is written as a somewhat suggestive love song between a man and a woman—is called the holy of holies. That’s because love is a powerful metaphor, except that here it’s not just describing a longing for love: it’s also about your longing for God.
That longing is specifically alluded to in the verse (Song of Songs 6:3), “I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me,” which refers to a yearning for oneness, or connection, with God.
Your sex drive—your longing for an intimate connection—is extremely powerful. It is a physical manifestation of your deepest spiritual longing: an intense desire to feel a connection with God.
That’s also why you use the same words—like intimacy, unity, and closeness—to explain both spirituality and sex, because they describe the same type of connection. A Jewish marriage is an expression of unity, and sex within marriage is an experience of unity, which is another reason why the Torah only permits sex within marriage. You’re literally fostering unity: your union reflects your desire to connect to God himself.
Anything else misses the point.
Guarding the touch
And once you accept that, shomer negiah makes perfect sense.
If you believe that sex is holy, that it’s a physical manifestation of your greatest spiritual drive, that it requires a commitment, and that you are not interested in it in any context outside that commitment, then, hello, why would you do otherwise?
The sex drive is powerful. You acknowledge and respect its power, and, when you practice shomer negiah, you are using common sense—you’re saying, “I’m simply not touching anyone I may feel attracted to”—to keep that drive in check.
The secret is in the name. Shomer negiah (שומר נגיעה) means “guarding the touch,” except that the word for touch, negiah (נגיעה), also means bias. When you touch someone, it creates a bias. It breaks a barrier and you feel closer. According to Harvard Medical School:5
“Just the simple act of touch seems to boost oxytocin release [oxytocin is a hormone that, among other things, manages aspects of human behavior]. Giving someone a massage, cuddling, making love, or giving someone a hug leads to higher levels of this hormone and a greater sense of well-being.”
That doesn’t mean you will want to have sex with every person you shake hands with, or with every person who gives you a pat on the back. It’s just that you’re letting down your guard, even if that’s just a little bit. Practicing shomer negiah keeps that guard in place, and, based on your values and beliefs, for you, that’s a priority.
Shomer negiah puts the onus on you. You’re not asking others to change how they dress or behave. You’re saying, “My values are my responsibility, and this is what I am prepared to do in order to maintain the high standards I set for myself.”
Personal responsibility is a hallmark of Jewish belief. You are responsible for your happiness and success, and practicing shomer negiah is one way of taking control.
FAQ
What are the sources for shomer negiah?
According to the great medieval thinker and scholar, Rabbi Moses Maimonides (1135-1204), when the Torah (Leviticus 18:6) says, “[No person should] come close to uncover nakedness,”6 it means, “Don’t come close to the things that bring you to uncovering nakedness,” and is specifically prohibiting hugging, kissing, or any other pleasurable physical contact that may lead to sexual arousal.7
Shomer negiah is not a rabbinical fence, but derived from the Torah. The extent to how far that applies is—like most things Jewish—debated by later authorities. But all agree, sex is holy, and not something to engage in outside of marriage; and, if that’s important to you, is your responsibility to keep under control.
- Maimonides, Book of Mitzvahs, Positive Mitzvah #3: “Meditating [or thinking deeply about someone] will help you comprehend [that person], will bring you pleasure, and, ultimately, you will come to love [that person].”
- Heard from Rabbi Motty Berger
- This section is adapted from here: https://aish.com/48960331/
- Mishna Yadayim 3:5: “All the biblical writings (Ketuvim) are holy, but the Song of Songs is the holy of holies.”
- https://www.health.harvard.edu/mind-and-mood/oxytocin-the-love-hormone also see here: https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/articles/22618-oxytocin
- According to Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan in his translation of the Torah (the Living Torah), “uncovering nakedness” can also be translated as “to commit a sexual offense.”
- Mishna Torah, Laws of Forbidden Relations, 21:1, based on the Sifra, Acharei Mos, 13:15. Also see Shulchan Aruch, Even HaEzra 20:1.
The post What is <i>Shomer Negiah</i>, the Jewish Law that Prohibits Touching? appeared first on Aish.com.
Go to Aish
Date: March 23, 2025