The Enduring Mikvah:
Ancient Jewish Water Ritual
Thrives in Orthodox Faith, Marriages

BERKELEY -- For religious Jews, god is everywhere. That means you have to "bring god into the bedroom too," says Miriam Ferris, wife to a rabbi and mother of nine kids. Ferris is an Orthodox Jew who follows the ancient Jewish ritual of visiting a mikvah, where she submerges herself into holy waters before resuming marital relations with her husband.

The mikvah, which translates from Hebrew to mean a "collection of water," is a natural body of water where a person immerses herself or himself to become "ritually pure." The mikvah is used by some religious men before prayer, a bride before she is married, a person in the final stages of conversion to Judaism, and a few who dip new plates and utensils to ensure a kosher kitchen.

But the most frequent visitors are married women who are readying themselves for the holy act of sex.

Out of the 613 commandments governing Jewish life, one in particular gives rise to the do's and don'ts of a couple's sex life. As soon as a married woman starts to menstruate she is off limits to her husband. Sexual relations are forbidden for a minimum of 12 days. Women count five days for their period to end and then add another seven "clean" days. At the end of this time, she must visit the mikvah to purify herself before allowing her husband back into bed. "Two weeks on, two weeks off" is how Ferris, 44, and a member of Chabad of East-Berkeley, describes it.

To ensure the two weeks off couples are instructed by Jewish law not to touch and to sleep in separate beds.

Ferris doesn't deny that this is hard to do. Especially "in the beginning of a marriage," she said as she pushes away the medium-length brown bangs of her shaytl, a wig traditionally worn by married European orthodox Jewish women. The wig acts as a head covering to ensure modesty and to keep the beauty of her hair under wraps for her husband.

But for Ferris, this time of separation is also good for the marriage. According to Ferris, it forces a couple to build their relationship on more than just the physical. "You really have to hear and to communicate," she said.

But not everyone has fond mikvah memories. For some members of the Jewish community strict observance of mikvah customs and the laws of separation are viewed as sexist and degrade women by suggesting that a menstruating woman is impure.

Susan Averbach, for example, who was raised Orthodox and at 53 is now studying to become a secular rabbi, remembers that when she was young she picked up an association that women were unclean and only became pure in water that a rabbi blessed.

In practice, "there are anti-women aspects to rabbinical Judaism," says Averbach. The fact that a wife can't touch her husband when she's menstruating doesn't carry the sound of equality for Averbach. "The experience of not being able to touch any person when you're that tainted," she said, must be very difficult.

But for Ferris, who was raised in New Jersey as a reformed Jew and became observant in her early 20s, sees mostly the benefits. Due to the complete abstinence "you become much more sensitive when you touch," said Ferris. This cycle of love is what she said, "keeps the honey moon aspect of the relationship."

Ferris thinks that occasional separation is sage advice for married couples. " You can pay $200 and go to a Park Avenue therapist and they're going to tell you to separate for a while. Or you can hear it for free. Right here, right now," she says.

Joel Crohn, a 56 year-old Berkeley and San Rafael psychologist and co-author of Beyond the Chuppah: A Jewish Guide to Happy Marriages, said visiting the mikvah and observing times of separation can help strengthen or damage a relationship. For those couples who might feel forced into observance, "it can be an oppressive thing," says Crohn. "If it's focused that way."

Crohn says you have to remember that marriages don't just stay alive. "Anything that creates rhythm in life, especially with sexuality, can make life sacred," he said. If couples choose to follow mikvah practices it can be enabling and reinvigorate the relationship. "It's like fire," he said, "it can burn or it can warm, but it doesn't do nothing."

A-Lea Sila Lovis, 53, a child and family therapist in Marin who is studying to be a conservative rabbi, said she has incorporated mikvah into her private practice. For a few of her Jewish client couples she has suggested a dip in the holy waters as a preparation for sexuality. "It's a mitzvah to make love," said Lovis. And a visit to the mivah makes it special.

Lovis says that after a while couples don't exert the same efforts to be together. When couples first date they might spend hours getting dressed preparing for the night out. Lovis says that going to the mikvah can reintroduce that same sense of excitement and anticipation by preparing the body for a romantic evening.

But Lovis doesn't prescribe the strict adherence rituals of separation. She views the two-week no touch policy as an orthodox observance and personal choice.

After Miriam Ferris' 12 days of separation from her husband are over, she visits a mikvah built in the garden of a rabbi's house in Berkeley. The small unassuming building houses a waiting room, two bathrooms complete with showers, and the mikvot, which looks like a Jacuzzi. "It's a very Berkeley mikvah," she says. Redwood walls, hand thrown clay sinks, and patterned cobalt and light blue tiles in the bathrooms create a natural interior, characteristic of Northern California.

In this serene environment, women prepare themselves to enter the mikvah. A woman must first bathe for at least 30 minutes. She also must make sure she has washed her face, removed all make-up and nail polish, taken off all jewelry, brushed her teeth, cut her fingernails and toenails, and combed her hair.

"You have to be squeaky clean," says Ferris. "Even one tangle would separate you from the water." The objective: There must be nothing between the woman and god the moment she enters the water.

Once properly bathed, a woman knocks for the attendant. The attendant checks to make sure all is in order and escorts her to the mikvot. Here, the woman enters the water until completely submerged. She comes up and says a prayer, and submerges herself two more times. The attendant is there to witness and say "kosher" when correctly done.

Although the mikvot can look like a spa, careful regulations must be followed to makes sure it conforms to Jewish law.

"It's very technical," says Rabbi Ben-Tzion Welton who lives in the house on the property with his wife and children. He also manages the mikvah.

A mikvah must be filled with "living waters," he says, water that has come from a flowing source. In Berkeley, the caretakers have engineered a plastic piping system that catches rainwater and drains it into two reservoirs. From here, they allow the rainwater to mix with tap water before it enters the mikvot.

There are five other mikvahs in the Bay Area located in San Francisco, Oakland, San Rafael, San Jose, and Palo Alto.

"The whole idea of the mikvah is like a rebirth," says Welton. He also frequents it daily before praying.

Welton says he also likes it when his wife visits the mikvah. He claims it's very positive for the marriage. Welton doesn't think sexuality should be the basis of a relationship and those two weeks apart give him and his wife an opportunity to work on the spiritual aspect of their connection.

And after the two weeks apart, "You feel more like wanting to be together," says Welton. "It's romantic."

For Susan Averbach, however, it's still difficult to think positively about this ancient Jewish ritual of body purification. She remembers her mother's horror story of visiting the mikvah. "One of her biggest traumas in life was having to go to the mikvah before marriage," says Averbach, who adds that her mother talked often about feeling degraded when she had to dip herself into the holy waters. Orthodox woman are brought up to be modest. When her mother had to disrobe in front of the attendant, "she found it really humiliating," recalls Averbach.

Averbach is aware that the meaning behind the mikvah is changing. For Averbach, the recent mikvah practices are a reinterpretation and not the reality that she grew up with. Unable to let go of childhood past she says, "I'm still not comfortable with the idea of the mikvah."

A-Lea Sila Lovis understands critics who view mikvah practices as patriarchal and unfairly deeming women as unclean. "On some level we can't deny that," said Lovis. She explains that disallowing women to be touched by men during certain times of the month can place women in a position of subservience. Women can come to feel as though they are in the shadow of men. "It's a part of the culture that needs to be healed," says Lovis.

But Lovis says you can also reframe the mikvah experience as one that honors women. Just like "you wouldn't go up to a queen or a princess and lay a hand on her," said Lovis, men are forbidden to lay their hand on the menstruating woman.