Tradition trumps dignity, abuse and fear

The recent news of the new United States TSA regulations on freely allowing people to be groped in the name of security, reminded me of an event in my life.

I converted to Judaism when I was eighteen. I was rather excited to joining the tribe of people that my dad and his family were a part of, some of the things I'd participated in before I could walk, like finding the afikoman at Passover. I went to all the classes, went on the field trips, and generally learned a lot.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikveh
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ritual_washing_in_Judaism#Full-body_immersion


Part of the conversion ceremony for both men and women is immersion in a ritual bath, called a mikveh. The mikveh is the inspiration behind the Christian ritual of baptism; obervant women also use the mikveh every month to mark the end of their menstrual cycles (seven days with no discharge following the end of bleeding), and the beginning of time when they can once again engage in sexual intercourse until the beginning of their next period. Other than the monthly rites of women, the mikveh is most often used in Jewish conversion ceremonies. It can also be used by any Jew who wishes to have an experience of spiritual renewal. In modern times, the mikveh looks much like a tiny swimming pool, with steps and a railing leading down into it. The only requirement that differentiates it from a swimming pool is that the water that comes into it must flow from a natural source.

The time for my mikveh approached, and I researched it. Ritual requires that the immersing person be completely naked, having bathed or showered thoroughly beforehand. While you are naked, you must enter the mikveh, say the blessings for it, and immerse yourself, lifting your feet off the floor of the pool to make sure the water touches every part of you. You must be observed by at least one other person of the same sex while doing all of this. When that's done, you emerge from the water, dry off, get dressed, and then have a party.

The bathing, I had no problem with. Checking under my fingernails to make sure there was absolutely no dirt? Fine and dandy. Covering any cuts or sores with band-aids? Of course.

I explained to my instructor that I had been sexually abused as a child, and so was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of being naked and having to have anyone observe me in this state. It didn't matter that it would be another woman - eventually, there were two - one woman from my conversion class that I barely knew, and another woman who was a distant cousin of mine. Double the pair of eyes and humiliation.

It was still highly distasteful to me, and I asked if there might be a way I could cover up during the ritual. After all, modesty in women is highly valued in Judaism - there are books dictating down to the last possible detail as to how an observant woman should dress and behave, so that her sexuality is not looked upon by others or exploited.

But that, apparently, didn't matter one iota. My instructor told me that being naked was essential, and it felt like he didn't listen to a word I said. He told me that I could perhaps wrap a sheet around myself before entering the mikveh, but once underwater, I absolutely had to let the sheet fall away from me and float above me, to ensure that the mikveh water did not miss any part of me.

There was no room for debate. So, I ended up doing this thing in the way they wanted, with two women looking at me when I was naked, and my feelings were irrelevant. I was terrified and humiliated.

So, where do we draw the line in the modern world between tradition and dignity in Judaism, or as in the case of the recent TSA regulations, security, fear and dignity?