An individual who is aware of his spiritual essence knows that he is empowered to rise above this cycle of the world of nature. The hidden, true “I” within him embodies an ethereal, immortal soul which is temporarily encased in a body of flesh and blood. His body is subject to the cycles of nature; and eventually will return to the dust from which it came. Not so the soul, which is eternal.

Deep within him, the Jew is aware of this distinction between the material and spiritual worlds. just as he knows intuitively that he exists and is a unique human being. As a natural consequence of this awareness, the Torah demands that the Jew assume responsibility for his actions. Likewise, it expects him to strive to improve himself and his deeds. However, when man comes face to face with the end of life in this world, the impact is often so great that the truth is blurred. Experiencing the death of a fellow human being is so overwhelming an experience that it can easily drown out the inner voice which whispers to us: “Your soul is eternal; therefore, it will not die with your body.”

When confronted with the termination of physical life, we cannot remain nonchalant. Only a short while ago, these limbs moved with purposeful action. The eyes, now closed in eternal slumber, were shining and conveyed vivid emotions; the lips that smiled, are now frozen, and the voice that greeted us and laughed with us, is now silent with death. Again and again, nature reminds us: Nothing in this physical world lasts forever.

The impression is so profound that it is liable to shake the foundations of our faith in the immortality of the soul. We are beset with doubts. Is this, indeed, all that awaits us? And if so, why strive so long and so intensely to cultivate our soul, to refine it and raise it to greater heights? “Man is worth nothing,” a voice whispers in our ear. “Why waste your time and your energy in trying to make something of him?”

An encounter with the termination of a human life is a moment of intense pessimism and nihilism. It is likely to bring significant conclusions about life in its wake. This is direct contact with what the Torah defines as tumah, contamination of the spirit. The laws of contamination come to protect Man and to renew his spirit after he comes into contact with death.

The precepts concerning spiritual contamination and the cleansing of the soul are the mechanism through which the Torah renews Man's balanced outlook on life. After such a blow, we reel and totter. The Torah helps us regain our equilibrium through the laws of the mikveh which cleanses us of contamination of the spirit. It clears our thoughts and prevents our dwelling on morbid contemplations of Man's ultimate fate in this world. It frees our soul that it may again sense its moral responsibilities by engaging us in complying to the regimen prescribed to overcome contamination.

All one's limbs share in fulfilling these commandments. These precepts demand time and thought. The period of preparation for immersion in the mikveh varies from one to seven days. On the final day, after sunset, we immerse our entire body in the waters of the mikveh. Then we emerge cleansed and renewed in spirit.

Each encounter with death is another confrontation with mankind's first sin, that of Adam in the Garden of Eden. It is one of a series of confrontations we are destined to encounter over a lifetime in this world. It was Adam who first brought death into the world, as the verse recounts: For on the day you eat of it, (the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil), you shall surely die (Genesis 2:17).

To cleanse ourselves of this we require a link with Eden, the universe in its pristine state, before the introduction of the concept of death. That world embodied spiritual perfection, with full harmony and ecological balance. Today, our only connection with that world is the “river which comes forth from Eden.”

The pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place. If an encounter with dying brings contamination in its wake, then being pure requires a renewal of life. The most powerful testimony we have to the purity of life is the waters of the mikveh. “And the spirit of G-d hovered over the waters” (Genesis 1:2).

In the Holy Tongue, clear, pure waters are called “mayim chayim”, literally, “living waters.” Without water, there is no life. This magic liquid is a source of life. It is the basic component of every creature, great and small. Ninety-seven percent of the human embryo is water. The adult is sixty-nine percent water. As our age advances, as we draw nearer to death, the percentage of our tissues which is composed of water declines. As we can see, water is life itself. Furthermore, when astronomers explore space, one of their first questions upon discovering a new planet is, “Does it show signs of water in its atmosphere?”

Freudian psychology views the oceans or water which appear in our dreams as a sign of life. Man himself comes into the world after floating in the waters of his mother's womb. In the realm of Kabbalah, the mikveh is viewed as the womb of the universe.

Water, the symbol of life, overcomes the contamination of the whisper of death. This helps us to understand the requirements for the construction of a mikveh. Its waters must be in their natural state. They cannot be taken from another source and then transferred to the pool of the mikveh by pipes, pails, or other man-made means.

Amazingly, scientists have discovered that there is more to water than meets the eye. There is a demonstrable physical difference between one sample of water and another, even though their chemical compositions are identical. Professor G. Picardi of Italy, whose field is physical chemistry, investigated the topic. He describes the biological characteristics of water and discusses the following question: Why is water drawn directly from a spring more effective medically, than water from the same spring that has been bottled? He goes on to assure the reader that chemically speaking, there is no difference between the two samples.

The laws of the mikveh take this distinction into account. Only water flowing from its natural source is sanctioned for filling its pool. Consequently, when a Jew uses the mikveh, he renews his bond with the Creator, the Source of life. Water which has been brought to the mikveh by pipelines, bucket, or any other man-made means does not have the same effect.

Deep within, man searches for a connection to the Creator. This is why the vast conglomerates of concrete in which so many of us in the Western world spend the better part of our lives make us long to escape to lofty mountain tops, the surf of the seashore, or the open countryside. There we feel closer to the world of Nature, and to Him who created it all. No man-made scene can arouse in the human heart the profound sense of harmony and peace which floods our heart at the sight of a majestic panorama, a masterpiece of the Master of the World. This same sense of closeness to our Maker is available to us through the waters of the mikveh.