By Shachar Cohen-Hodos
Our weekend in Tzfat was dedicated to the concept of holy spaces. We practiced creating a very specific kind of holy space when we made our tefillin with Rabbi Noach Greenberg, and we explored the definition of holiness itself leading up to and throughout the weekend. The definition of holiness that I have always been drawn to is the distinction from the mundane. Something that is holy is something that is different. This is also an subjective matter, what is holy for me might not and probably isn’t what is holy for my roommate or neighbor.
When we went to the mikvah to learn about the idea of Niddah, purity, impurity, and the ritual practices behind it, I learned about a holy practice of the woman who spoke to us. She said that she found this time from the start of her menstrual cycle to her cleansing at the mikvah two weeks later as a time of holiness, a built in honeymoon every month in which she found the holiness of physical connection with her husband from the absence of it.
I’ve always struggled with the practice of niddah. It is one of the three mitzvot that women are commanded to participate in. I struggle with it because I’ve studies the biblical application of purity and impurity, in which men and women were both subjected to this differentiation of tuma and tahara at a fairly equal rate--however in the interpretation of the rabbis in our rabbinic corpus, only women are required to participate in this mitzvah.
To me, this system is constraining, it plays into a dangerous understanding of women’s sexuality as something dangerous, unnatural, and in need of distancing. Furthermore, what does it mean for non-heteronormative couples who are active members in my halachik-egalitarian communities to participate in this mitzvah? What is there obligation? And if they don’t have a place in this mitzvah, but I care about egalitarianism in my religious practice, how can I justify my participation in it?
While I listened to the woman speak to us, I went back and forth in my head about whether or not I agreed with her reasoning. She found the process to be her personal time, an hour in her life which she finds to be completely about her. I’m not a parent, however, I can imagine that the strains of parenthood make this hour feel even more important to her. I frequently think about this issue from a zoomed out perspective, in the cycle of women’s places in society. However, when she spoke about her experience she gave me a lens into the ways that her personal practice adds value to her own life.
It’s still hard for me to stay zoomed into how she feels because I’m constantly pulled out to understand her practice in a systemic framework. Though, I am in admiration of those who are trying to reclaim the practice of mikvah in a more egalitarian framework. It is not the act itself that bothers me. In fact, I really do think that the mikvah is one of the most holy spaces in our ever modernizing world.This session gave me the space to think through my ideas about the process of mikvah and both affirm and challenge my opinions.
