Unpacking the Iggerot: Mikve, Money & Mysticism

Mikve, Mysticism & Money / Iggerot Moshe, Y.D., vol. 3, #136

Read more about “Unpacking the Iggerot” and see the archive of all past columns.

Summarizing the Iggerot

You might be familiar with the term “Big Pharma”— but have you ever heard of “Big Funeral”? In 1972, R. Moshe Feinstein was asked by R. Chaim Zev Bomzer, on behalf of the Hevra Kadisha division of the Vaad of Flatbush (Brooklyn, NY) regarding the parameters of immersing a corpse in the mikve as a part of the tahara process. R. Feinstein initially reasons (Y.D., vol. 3, #135) that the standards should be no stricter than that which Ezra had instituted for purifying a ba’al keri. Such a mikve should contain the forty se’ah volume of water and be free of any leakage, yet the water may be drawn, rather than being sourced directly from the rain or a natural spring.

However, just a few years later, in 1975 (ibid., #136), R. Feinstein’s disposition toward this practice took a sharp turn. It had been brought to his attention that funeral homes or “chapels” (as it is transliterated) are now beginning to install their own mikvaot, offering what was an obscure enhancement for the particularly righteous as a new premium service for the public. He is keenly aware that there is a not so infrequent trend in halakhic practice that what begins as an optional stringency soon evolves into the new baseline expectation for all. And this has economic consequences, as the cost for maintaining the mikvaot will be passed along to the consumer—which is, at least in spirit, a contravention of what the Talmud derives from the case of Rabban Gamliel:

At first, taking the dead out [for burial] was more difficult for the relatives than the [actual] death, to the point that relatives would abandon [the corpse] and run away. Until Rabban Gamliel came and acted with disregard [for himself and was] taken out for burial in linen garments. And the people [adopted this] practice after him [and had themselves] taken out in linen garments. Rav Pappa said: And nowadays, everyone follows the practice [of dressing the dead for burial] even in [plain] hemp garments [that cost only] a dinar (Moed Katan 27b).

The Talmud is understood to convey that the affordability of burial is an absolute priority. It follows that to do anything that would risk making such expenses unattainable would not be consonant with the intent of the Sages.

During the tahara for a corpse prior to burial, purification is typically achieved by the Hevra Kadisha washing each portion of the body, and then pouring a measure of nine kabin (about 3.5 gallons) of water over the deceased resting on a table or gurney. In limited instances, nine kabin of poured water are tantamount to immersion in a mikve. The “innovation” discussed in the responsum, erecting a mikve in which the corpse would be immersed directly, is mainly due to two reasons. Responsa Yaskil Avdi (Y.D. #24) cites Tashbetz who is concerned about post-mortem seminal emission. He also cites the Zohar who reasons that purification through a mikve in this world will spare one from being purged by the fires of Gehenom in the next.

R. Feinstein questions the benefit of adding a mikve to the tahara process in the first place. After all, a corpse is the highest form of tuma, so immersing in the mikve will have no effect on its tuma status nor effectuate any level of expiation for the deceased’s sins. What there is actually earlier precedent for is the pouring of nine kabin of water. And while, in theory, immersion in a mikve would be superior to simply pouring water over the corpse, to make a kal ve-homer in kabbalistic matters is a fool’s errand, as the world of mysticism does not operate on the conventional principles of logic that we are accustomed to in halakha. Furthermore, to begin such a practice would engender an element of hubris, as it would insinuate that the current generation considers itself religiously superior to their ancestors who never observed such a practice.

R. Feinstein reluctantly concludes that “only when the children come and report that their father [demonstrated that he] was a pure and holy man and desired to be immersed in the mikve they should not be prevented from doing so. Yet, not every person who wants to can claim such a status.”

Connecting the Iggerot

There are numerous responsa in Iggerot Moshe that address matters related to mikvaot. In a 1969 case (Y.D., vol. 2, #115) a challenging dilemma was posed by Rabbi Pesach Raymon: Should a community prioritize the building of a Jewish school or a women’s mikve? To delay building a school would consign many to opt for public education. To delay the construction of a mikve for women could result in the transgression of martial intimacy laws (nidda) which carry the penalty of Divine Excision (karet). The particular scenario concerned the town of New Brunswick, NJ, which was not an unreasonable drive from Elizabeth, that had its own mikve. R. Feinstein reasoned that even if a woman’s immersion night occurred over a holiday, making the drive impossible, an observant couple would have the discipline to delay for a few more days until the holiday had concluded. However, in a slightly earlier responsum (ibid., #91), he expressed that to not have a mikve indefinitely is simply untenable—virtually no couple would be able to manage such a predicament.

And if one were to think that the construction of mikvaot in mid-20th century America was challenging, they would have likely been unaware of what R. Feinstein faced back in Russia. In about 1932, the municipality had closed all of the mikvaot in Luban under the pretext that they posed a public health risk. They actively demolished the mikvaot and replaced them with swimming pools that were intended for men and women to use together. As R. Feinstein later published in Iggerot Moshe (Y.D., vol. 1, #119-120; cf. O.H., vol. 1, #126), he managed to negotiate with one of the government officials to reach a convoluted arrangement that would enable one of these pools to be rendered a kosher mikve. Word quickly spread that this was the singular kosher mikve in the entire district of Minsk, and many Jews flocked to utilize it. However, it did not meet the higher halakhic standards that R. Feinstein and his wife Rebbeztin Shima (Kustanovich) Feinstein had previously been accustomed to. And while she would visit the mikve once a month so as not to inadvertently cast aspersions on its legitimacy (“marit ayin”), the Feinstein couple remained physically separated for five years until their subsequent escape to America (see Man Malki Rabbanan, 18-19).

In terms of R. Feinstein’s personal mikve practices, the Sefer Maasah Moshe,vol. 1 (Rav Moshe Feinstein Foundation, Inc., 2012) reports that:

Rav Moshe was makpid to toivel in a mikva k’shaira before the Yomim Tovim of Pesach, Shavuos, Succos, and Hoshana Raba. Rav Moshe felt that tevilos before the Yomim Tovim were zecher l’mikdash and, therefore, one had to be in a mikve k’shaira. Rav Moshe would toivel three times, though he said that once would be sufficient. Rav Moshe would also go to the mikva on Erev Rosh Hashanah and Erev Yom Kippur and was not makpid that it was a mikva k’shaira at these times. On Erev Yom Kippur and Hoshana Raba, Rav Moshe would toivel 39 times, symbolically representing malkus. Rav Moshe didn’t toivel every day or even every Erev Shabbos.

R. Shachna Scheiner (Darkhei Moshe, vol. 1, 239) cites R. Moshe Rubin, a student of R. Feinstein at the Yeshiva of Staten Island, who reports that R. Feinstein would immerse himself 51 times in preparation for Shavuot!

While R. Feinstein was careful to immerse in the mikve prior to the holidays, it is noteworthy that he did not go so far as to do it on a weekly basis, as is common practice within hasidic circles. Moreover, his reasoning appears to be rooted primarily in commemorating the practices of the Temple—and in the case of Shavuot, corresponding to the days of Sefira plus Shavuot. He did not object to male mikve immersion out of a sense of academic rationalism or anti-mystical sentiment, yet he was also unmoved by such considerations, particularly when they were in conflict with halakha. He ruled (O.H., vol. 4, #74) that a man who wishes to use the mikve on Shabbat for tosefet kedusha, additional sanctity, would nevertheless not be permitted to immerse in warm water. While the Rabbinic edict against bathing in warm water heated even prior to Shabbat (gezeirat ha-balanim) does not necessarily apply to a mitzva, such as female immersion, men doing so for mystical purposes does not constitute a bona fide mitzva and remains subject to such strictures.

And this leads us to one of the most fundamental points that emerges from these responsum. The topic we have chosen is not simply fascinating because it tells us about mikvaot, but because it is a significant data point in identifying to what degree R. Feinstein was willing to attribute significance to mysticism in the halakhic process.

As we just noted, R. Feinstein was generally respectful of those who subscribed to the more mystical elements within Jewish tradition, yet he would not hesitate when a certain practice or idea was, in his view, at odds with the standard canon of Rabbinic literature. Reportedly, he was very dismissive of a hasidic notion called gaiva de-kedusha, “holy arrogance.” He regarded it as “shtus” (nonsense) since it contravened countless Rabbinic sources that decry such a character trait (Mesores Moshe, vol. 3, pp. 383-384). This statement does not come as a surprise when we account for the fact that his father, R. Dovid Feinstein, was a faithful mitnagdic adherent of the Vilna Gaon’s teachings. R. Moshe Feinstein reports that his father would in principle omit the stanza of barkhanu le-shalom from Shalom Aleichem, lest it be construed as a prayer to angels, while the practice of intercessory prayer is par for the course amongst those with mystical proclivities (O.H., vol. 5, #43:6).

This comes to a head in the question of whether one may or should switch from Nusah Ashkenaz to Nusah Sefard and vice versa. In Iggerot Moshe (O.H., vol. 4, #33), R. Feinstein strikes a conciliatory tone, reassuring the inquirer that “all versions of our liturgy are equal in terms of fulfilling the mitzva of prayer and Kedusha. And there is a source for every word, be it from the revealed [tradition] or the hidden [tradition].”

However, in his earlier and more iconic responsum (O.H., vol. 4, #24) on the topic, R. Feinstein writes that the modern iteration of “Nusah Sefard” is unlike the text recorded by Rambam. Rather it was a hassidic innovation that modified the standard Ashkenazic liturgy with an interest in incorporating mystical elements. He continues:

Given this [understanding], shifting to Nusah Ashkenaz would not constitute a [problematic] shifting of your prior custom, even if your father and two or three generations earlier already began to pray with this new text [i.e., Sefard]. For, on the contrary, they are the ones who [are guilty of] changing the custom of their ancestors and our rabbis, the great ones of this world, the wise men of Tzarfat and Ashkenaz…. Nonetheless, we do not raise objections against those who have changed [their nusah], for there was certainly some rationale that permitted them to do so. Nonetheless, when one wishes to revert to praying Nusah Ashkenaz, which is the liturgy of our fathers and rabbis, it is certainly permissible—for they are returning to their origins.

R. Feinstein does not outright castigate followers of Nusah Sefard, yet he insinuates some disappointment in the deliberate modifications to the traditional Ashkenazic liturgy. He was a staunch defender of the integrity of minhagim and, while some of his most iconic decisions could be perceived as revolutionary, he was actually rather conservative in the sense that he stuck mostly to the Talmud, Codes, and their classical commentaries.

He does not go so far as to brand these shifts as anathema, but he clearly does not grant much weight to practices that emerged from kabbala, particularly if the practice is only of later origin. His responsum permitting the recitation of Selihot prior to halakhic midnight serves as another case in point. There are many elements of this responsum that deserve their own analysis (see endnote), but the most critical part for our purposes is that his dispensation hinges on the fact that the practice “has no Talmudic basis, rather they are from our later rabbis based on sifrei kabbala.” And while reciting the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy prior to hatzot may not enjoy the same metaphysical benefits, it is no worse than any other standard prayer. Again, we see that mystical considerations, particularly post-Talmudic, are dispensable when they conflict with other necessities.

For instance, the Sefer Maasah Moshe, vol. 1, p. 92, reports that “Reb Moshe learned in a regular fashion on ‘Nittel Nacht’ and so instructed his yeshivos and Talmidim.” The peculiar practice of hasidim refraining from Torah study on Christmas eve was untenable as it disregarded the core religious mandate of Torah study without resting on an adequate halakhic basis. He was also skeptical of the practice of hasidic Rebbes to feed their “leftovers” (shirayim) to their followers (Darkhei Moshe, vol. 2, p. 305). However, before we erroneously conclude that R. Feinstein did not study kabbala simply because he was circumspect about its place in the realm of halakhic analysis, the Sefer Maasah Moshe (ibid.) reports that:

Rav Moshe did not speak about his knowledge of Kabbalah. One time, Rav Moshe went to 770 Eastern Parkway to be mesader kedushin, the Lubavitch Rebbe asked Rav Moshe a specific question on the Zohar which was bothering him for years and Rav Moshe answered him right away. Several years ago, a dayan told Rav Moshe’s family that, for many years, Rav Moshe would go on Thursday nights during the 1940’s and the 1950’s to learn Kabbalah with the dayan’s grandfather, who was a knowledgeable mekubal from Europe, and was then living in the Bronx.

R. Feinstein may have had reservations about the place of kabbala and hasidic methodology, but that by no means hindered his relationship with the leaders of those communities. When there was a pogrom, R. Feinstein’s father fled the city of Uzda, leaving his rabbinic post behind. When they had returned his father was surprised to see that another rabbi had assumed his post as the new religious head of the synagogue. Rather than initiate a feud, R. Dovid Feinstein decided to simply attend the town’s hasidic synagogue instead. This transition served as R. Moshe Feinstein’s initial and formative exposure to hasidic practices which gave him an affinity for their community. Nonetheless, his father insisted that they still recite the chapter of Bame Madlikin on Friday nights, rather than the mystically inclined prayer of Kegavna, which is recited by Nusah Sefard (Man Malki Rabbanan, p. 8).

Among the Lithuanian-style Roshei Yeshiva in America, R. Feinstein was known to have one of the best relationships with the hasidic world, including the leaders of Bobov, Rozin, and Karlin-Stolin. R. Dovid Noach Weintraub, a lecturer in Lakewood, NJ, reports that when his father served as a hasidic high school Judaics teacher, he instructed his students to attend the same minyan as R. Feinstein, even if it meant coming late to school (Darkhei Moshe, vol. 2, 306). However, we should note that the Satmar Rebbe, R. Yoel Teitelbaum,  waged significant battles against R. Feinstein on the issues of mehitza and artificial insemination which deserve their own treatment. This fissure, nonetheless, did not prevent some members of his camp from seeking R. Feinstein’s counsel on certain occasions (ibid., 27).

From the evidence above, we can conclude that while R. Feinstein had reservations about hasidic practices, it in no way hindered his respect and friendship with that sector of the Orthodox community. It was this kind of approach that contributed to his unparalleled ability to earn the confidence and trust of virtually the entire Torah-observant world.

Challenges to the Iggerot

As one might imagine, despite R. Feinstein’s conciliatory approach, rabbis of both the hasidic and Sephardic world felt that he did not grant enough deference to mystical sources. On the matter of switching from Nusah Sefard to Ashkenaz, the Sefer Ma’aneh le-Iggerot argues that as a matter of minhag, if the inquirer’s father and grandfather used Sefard then it behooves him to maintain it, as this is not a matter of ascertaining lineage which would require more extensive research beyond the immediate prior generations. He further cites the Responsa Divrei Hayim (O.H., vol. 2, #8), which further cites the Mishnat Hasidim, that in addition to the procedural concerns for changing one’s nusah, there is something more fundamental taking place here. He posits that every minhag emerges from the unique nature of the individual’s soul, and to alter one’s current custom would have metaphysical ramifications that are best left untested. He further contends that the only safe spiritual bet is the Nusah Sephard based on Rabbi Isaac Luria (Minhag Ari), and that if anything it is only permissible to switch from Ashkenaz to Sephard, not vice versa!

Shifting from Nusah Sephard to the actual Sephardic world, R. Ovadia Yosef (Responsa Yehavve Da’at, vol. 1, #46; cf. Hazon Ovadia, Yamim Noraim 2b) challenges R. Feinstein’s relative dismissal of the mystical imperative to require Selihot after halakhic midnight. He marshals R. Isaac Luria (cited in Magen Avraham 565:5) the Hida (Birkei Yosef 581:2), R. Hayyim Pelagi (see Kaf HaChaim 18:13), as well as many others, even including the Mishneh Berurah (565:12) to make the point that reciting the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy, which are at the core of Selihot, may not be recited any earlier. He quotes a scathing responsum from the mystic R. Moshe Zaccuto (#30) who lambasts those coming to earn God’s mercy and “are accomplishing the opposite goal.” While from midnight and beyond is mystically a time to appeal to God’s trait of mercy, prior to then is a time that is instead susceptible to God’s strict judgement. On this basis, R. Yosef disagrees with R. Feinstein’s assessment and argues that it would be better not to recite Selikhot at all than to do so before midnight. (Interestingly, he does entertain the possibility that since it would be past midnight in Eretz Yisrael, perhaps it would offer metaphysical benefits to those praying before midnight on American time since Eretz Yisrael is the spiritual center of the world.)

Reflecting on the Iggerot

We have seen two of many examples where both Sephardic and hassidic rabbis incorporated mysticism as a prominent factor in their halakhic analysis, which was in stark contrast to R. Feinstein and other members of the Ashkenazic yeshiva world. Yet, R. Feinstein was still successful in surpassing these differences and maintained strong relationships with Orthodox Jews of all stripes.

Returning to the original responsum about constructing mikvaot in funeral chapels, it is worth emphasizing that in addition to the questionable mystical motivations there was also an economic factor at play. Unlike in Yoreh De’ah (vol. 3, #136) where he acknowledges an incidental increase in funeral expenses, in the following responsum (ibid, #137) he alleges that  the funeral chapels’ “intention is to increase their revenue due to the additional funeral expenses.” While an assessment of this particular claim is beyond our scope, it complements what we asserted in our previous column “Appliances & Affluence.” We can observe a consistent concern in R. Feinstein’s rulings for the economic hardships of Orthodox Jewry. This manifests in his flexibility in certain areas of kashrut as well as in our present subject of funeral expenses, even at the perceived spiritual cost of fulfilling more stringencies or enhanced halakhic standards.

A case in point: R. Michel Shurkin (Meged Givot Olam, vol. 1, pp. 65-66) reports that R. Feinstein had planned to use a new matza bakery that boasted more rigorous procedures and halakhic standards. However, when the day came he changed his mind and purchased his matza from the original bakery he had relied on in years past. When asked for an explanation, he replied that if all else were equal he would have preferred to use the new bakery, nevertheless he was concerned that others would follow his lead to this new establishment, thereby leaving the owner of the first bakery in financial ruin. Endangering a fellow Jew’s livelihood was not worth a few extra halakhic enhancements.

R. Feinstein’s prooftext against increased funeral expenses was the story of Rabban Gamliel (Moed Katan 27b) who modeled how everyone should be able to afford to die as a Jew. Yet, R. Feinstein’s writings beckons us to ask, why wait until death? Can’t we make it affordable to live as Jews as well?

Endnote: In the “Connecting the Iggerot” section we referred to R. Feinstein’s responsum on the early recitation of Selihot, which is deserving of its own analysis. To briefly mention a couple of points: Even though he permits it he is careful to reiterate that it is a hora’at sha’ah, an exigent measure. The inquirer, R. Ephraim Berman, mentions that his congregants are literally afraid to leave their homes at midnight for fear of their lives. A colleague of mine, R. Gabriel Nachman Kretzmer Seed, pointed out that R. Berman served in the Bed-Stuy neighborhood of Brooklyn, which was known to be a rather unsafe area, at least in 1960. R. Feinstein does not on his own extend such flexibility to men who are simply too tired to wait until hatzot. The other point is that R. Feinstein did not just suggest a carte blanche leniency, he still recommended praying at the first ashmoret which would still typically be 15-20 minutes past 11:00 PM (in New York at that time of year), not at 10:00 PM or earlier as many synagogues offer.

Undoubtedly, there are many instances we did not note where R. Feinstein reckons with mystical concepts, such as the Evil Eye. See Iggerot Moshe (E.H., vol. 3, #26) and R. Dr. Natan Slifkin’s Rationalism vs. Mysticism (ch. 12) for elaboration on the topic. For more on R. Feinstein’s cordial relationship with several hasidic leaders, see Reb Moshe: The Life and Ideals of HaGaon Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (ArtScroll, 287-296). I would also like to thank Rabbi Daniel Sayani who first brought my attention to our topic, as well as the responsum in Yaskil Avdi cited above. Our conversation on this can be found on Shu”T First Ask Questions Later (ep. #29).

Moshe Kurtz serves as the Assistant Rabbi of Agudath Sholom in Stamford, CT, is the author of Challenging Assumptions, and hosts the Shu”T First, Ask Questions Later.