Much has been written in the Jewish press, and even in mainstream media, about the arrest last month of Rabbi Barry Freundel, the spiritual leader of a prominent Washington D.C. Modern Orthodox synagogue, who was charged with voyeurism. Freundel allegedly used a hidden camera to spy on nude women in the synagogue’s mikvah, or Jewish ritual bath.

Not only has the arrest prompted outrage within the Orthodox community that a trusted rabbi could possibly do something so despicable, it has also stirred curiosity among less observant and secular Jews unfamiliar with the rituals of a mikvah, which date back to the beginningof Jewish history.

For the last six years, I’ve driven past the Sylvia Green Memorial Mikvah, located on the Millstone campus, on my way to work at the Light. I never knew its full name until recently -– to me, it’s always been the non-descript, brick building at the top of the hill.

In the wake of the Freundel scandal, and having never been to a mikvah, I felt it was a good time to acquaint myself more personally with the local one. I made an appointment by calling the phone number listed on the Vaad Hoeir of St. Louis website (ovkosher.org) for Taharath Israel of St. Louis, which maintains two Orthodox mikvahs — the one on the Millstone Campus, open Sunday through Thursday evenings, and a second Shabbat and Yom Tov (major Jewish holidays) mikvah in University City. A third mikvah, run by Tpheris Israel Chevra Kadisha Congregation, is located on its campus in Chesterfield.

“Mikvah” in Hebrew means collection, in this case a collection of water for ritual immersion in Judaism. Observant Jewish women typically visit the mikvah once a month, to purify themselves seven days after the end of their menstrual cycle. After the immersion takes place, a woman can resume sexual activity with her husband, which is not permitted during her period or for the seven days following it.

A mikvah is also used by observant men for purifying themselves before the Sabbath, brides or grooms before their wedding day and as the final act of a conversion to Judaism.

Before going, I did a little research to find out how to prepare. I figured I would have to undress, and that I couldn’t wear a swimsuit. What I didn’t know was that I would have to remove any nail polish, clip my nails short, and be free of contact lenses, jewelry and make-up. The observance calls for no barriers to exist between a person and the waters of the mikvah.

When the attendant called Sunday to reconfirm my appointment, I admitted to being a little nervous. She assured me she would walk me through the process once I got there. She asked if I had already bathed thoroughly; when I told her yes, she said I would need to take a shower and rinse and comb my hair before entering the water.

When I arrived, Shirley, the mikvah attendant, greeted me at the front door and offered to show me around. She couldn’t have been friendlier, and put me immediately at ease.

Our first stop was a smallish, simply decorated brick room where the mikvah pool is located. The tiled structure itself isn’t very large — it looks rather like an oversized bathtub — with stairs and a railing leading into the pool, which was empty. Jewish law specifies a mikvah be built into the ground or as an essential part of a building. Portable vessels such as bathtubs, whirlpools or Jacuzzis can therefore never function as mikvahs, though an ocean or a lake could.

Shirley pointed to two holes in the pool, both the size of an orange. Jewish law also stipulates that a mikvah be connected to naturally occurring water, like rainwater collected in a receptacle, thus making the mikvah’s pool “living” water.

The next stop on the tour was a kitchen mikvah of sorts, where dishes, pots and utensils that come in contact with food are immersed into an industrial-looking sink. Shirley explained that before the immersion any labels and price markings must be removed; again, so that nothing comes between the water and the dishes.

She then led me to a spotless bathroom (one of four) where I could privately undress, shower and clean while she filled the pool. When I was done, I was to slide the “ready” sign under the door, ring a bell on the countertop and Shirley would come get me.

Too bad my bathroom at home isn’t as well stocked as this one. A basket on the counter brimmed with cotton swabs, dental floss, soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, nail clippers, a contact lenses case and combs. Nearby was a bottle of acetone and cotton balls. Also in sight was a laminated listing of preparations to be completed before immersion.

Clad in a terrycloth robe, I followed Shirley to the pool where she explained I would immerse myself three times; after the first, I’d recite the baruch and she would prompt me if need be. Then I handed her my robe as she checked my back for any loose hairs, and descended the stairs into the pool.

The water was comfortably warm. In the deepest part, it hit the top of my chest. Each time I dunked and came to the surface, Shirley said, “kosher,” indicating my hair and body were completely underwater. The whole process took less than two minutes.

Afterward, Shirley said I could stay in the water for as long as I liked. Feeling soothed and relaxed, I used this solitary time to pray for my family, for a sick relative of a friend and for peace here in St. Louis and in the Middle East. While this new experience was a little strange, I honestly felt less encumbered as the water washed over me. Perhaps this isn’t at all what a mikvah is intended to do, but it was empowering.

I have read about nondenominational mikvahs being built in other parts of the country that are open to Jews of all backgrounds and orientations. I’d love to see a renaissance of this tradition that works toward more inclusiveness because water itself not only cleanses and purifies, it also enhances and restores us, and calms us spiritually. Most anybody can be transformed by its lure.

And for those concerned about the recent news events: No, not for a minute did I think or suspect there was a camera hidden anywhere.

The suggested cost for the Taharath Israel mikvah is $22. Following the charges stemming from Rabbi Barry Freundel’s arrest last month, the Taharath Israel Mikvah Association issued an outline of provisions to “uphold the highest level of privacy and security” at the local mikvahs. Read the policies and view a photograph of the mikvah online at stljewishlight.com/mikvah.