by Rabbi Yisrael Rutman

The Talmud says that on the night following the first day of the festival of Sukkot, preparations were made for the Simchat Bait HaShoeva (the celebration of the Water-Drawing for the water libations in the Temple during Sukkot). The leviim would array themselves on the fifteen steps leading from the men’s courtyard to the women’s courtyard, where they would sing fifteen Psalms (Tehillim 120-134). The kohanim would blow the trumpets as water from the spring of Shiloach was brought to the Temple for the morning services.

The most pious individuals would display their talents for the crowd. There were feats of strength, juggling of fiery torches, music and dancing. The light from the massive candelabra on the Temple Mount shone throughout the city. It was said that in any courtyard in the city a woman could sift grain by the Temple light.

And we are told of what the mishna calls a tikkun gadol (roughly translated, “a great fixing up”) in the Temple in Jerusalem. What was the tikkun gadol? A balustrade was erected in the Temple courtyard, on which the women would sit and watch the proceedings, while the men gathered on the floor below.

This was instituted to separate the men from the women, who would otherwise mingle, trade phone numbers, and who-knows-what. Of course, there is no fool-proof system when it comes to this sort of thing; a determined mingler will not be daunted by a mere balcony (see Romeo and Juliet). But for most people it seems to have been an effective maneuver.

The modern-day institution of the mechitza (a partition between the genders in the synagogue), is derived from this Talmudic passage. It was not an invention of Orthodoxy in America or Europe; but an ancient practice.

The story says something about the innovativeness—and patience—of the Sages. The tikkun gadol was not built in a day. The process leading up to it appears to have gone on for some years. The Talmud describes earlier trials at keeping decorum during the festivities—women on the outside, men on the inside; men on the outside, women on the inside. Kalot rosh (frivolousness) persisted. Not until the tikkun gadol was the problem solved.

And lest one think that it has no application beyond a celebrative atmosphere such as pertained to the Simchat Bait HaShoeva, the Talmud goes on to bring a proof text that even at burials it was the custom to separate men and women; and for the same reason, so that improper attitudes should not prevail at communal gatherings. If the problem exists at the edge of the grave, with death staring you in the face, it certainly exists in the synagogue, where it is only the rabbi staring you in the face.

One might think that this enforced social segregation put a crimp in everybody’s evening. How could they have had a good time under such circumstances? There go those rabbis again, spoiling everybody’s fun.

But it does not seem to have been so. For the Talmud says that “anyone who did not witness the Simchat Bait HaShoeva never saw real rejoicing in his life.” Whatever concept of happiness we may have, does not compare—cannot compare—to what was experienced there at that time.

How could the Sages be so sure? What did they know of The World Cup or The World Series? (Has one who has never seen a soccer riot in his life ever seen true rejoicing?)

The answer is that the rejoicing of the Simchat Bait HaShoeva partook of another dimension altogether. It was a joy borne of pure spirituality. The spectacle the people came to gaze upon was not one of human art or athletic prowess; but of Divine service. The performers were the holiest sages; the main event was pouring out of the water on the Temple altar at the time of year when God judges water. And all in the context of the entire Jewish nation serving God; sitting in sukkot, taking the four species, eating the festive meals, bringing their offerings to the Temple. Their very presence in the Temple precincts on the festival was the fulfillment of a Torah commandment.

Now we can understand why such emphasis was placed on the tikkun gadol. Had it not been for that bit of religious coercion, the requisite atmosphere of holiness would have been lacking. Instead of thinking about getting close to God, they would have been thinking about getting closer to each other.

So not only did the tikkun gadol not inhibit the rejoicing, it enhanced it.

Sources: Sukkah 51a-b; Iggeros Moshe Orach Chaim, Volume 1, Siman 39.

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3. Shabbos On A Weekday?
4. Getting Away From It All
5. A Tale of Two Rabbis