Practically every culture distinguishes between clean and unclean things, actions, and people. This is true for simple hygiene as well as for ritual or religious purity. While in most cultures both men and women can become polluted, impurity is more often associated with women, especially during menstruation. Consequently, restrictions on menstruating women were imposed in a vast number of societies—both ancient and modern—including ancient Israel, where the Bible regarded all bodily emissions as defiling and women were regulated by the niddah laws.1
Throughout history, various societies have developed different ways of separating the pure and the impure, usually by imposing restrictions on the movement and behavior of the impure. The question of impurity, therefore, has a spatial dimension, and rules governing impurity had to be formulated in relation to space. So how were women and their families expected to follow such restrictions within the specific conditions of their settlements and houses?
Given the constraints posed by domestic architecture, many of the societies in which menstruating women were forbidden to carry on their usual life secluded the women altogether and lodged them in special houses, huts, tents, or even caves and rock-shelters. Such solutions were used, for example, by many Native American groups, various traditional societies in Africa, as well as Ethiopian Jews and037038 ancient Arabs. This completely solved the problem of separating the impure women from their daily environment, and they could easily avoid the objects they were supposed to avoid while still performing some daily activities. Seclusion is by far the most effective solution to the problem posed by impure individuals, who might pollute objects, animals, or people.
Some societies, however, did not prescribe complete seclusion, and menstruating women were not expected to leave their homes. In such cases, women were expected to follow strict guidelines to avoid defiling other people or objects in the same built space.
Naturally, both solutions are difficult to identify archaeologically. The lack of such findings is partially due to the fact that the isolated structures are likely to be located outside of settlements in areas that are rarely excavated. Additionally, would such houses differ from other houses in construction? Would the finds unearthed within them be different from those in other dwellings? These points need to be considered before one can hope to identify menstrual huts in the archaeological record. The second scenario, in which women stayed in their homes, seems archaeologically almost impossible to identify, as no039 physical remains are likely to testify to the presence of impure individuals.
Given the universality of the idea of impurity, it is not surprising that the Hebrew Bible is full of references to purity and impurity. While more abundant in the priestly writings of the Pentateuch, this issue is attested in practically all Biblical genres: from priestly legislation (e.g., Leviticus 12; Leviticus 15:19–24), to prophetic texts (e.g., Isaiah 3:8; Ezekiel 18:6), and historical books (Genesis 31:35, 1 Samuel 4:19, and 2 Samuel 11:4), as well as the Book of Lamentations (Lamentations 1:8–9, Lamentations 17). The widespread attestation of this taboo throughout the Bible, along with its near universality and prevalence in the ancient Near East, suggests that it was indeed common in ancient Israel. The relevant texts do not attempt to invent the regulations; rather, they simply reflect a societal reality.
Given the omnipresent restrictions on the impure and their expected spatial expression, one would expect to find plentiful publications on the topic, but the contrary is the case—due to the difficulties of identifying these spatial expressions archaeologically and of interpreting the Biblical texts, whose historicity and even date are often disputed.2
Shlomo Bunimovitz and I offered some initial insights in our study of access analysis (the study of spatial configuration within a built structure and the hierarchy of accessibility or passage from one space to the other) of the four-room house, the typical dwelling of Iron Age Israel.a We studied the structure’s space syntax, with respect to the possible contact between the dwellers and strangers, as well as among the dwellers themselves.3 Different syntaxes hint at different systems or codes of social and cultural relations.
An analysis of space syntax within the four-room house reveals a very shallow “tree shape,” in which all the inner rooms are directly accessible from the house’s central space, even when there are a large number of rooms. Notably, other types of dwellings, such as the Middle Bronze–Late Bronze Age courtyard house and the “Canaanite-Phoenician” house of the Iron Age, show either a “path” or a “deep” tree shape. In these floorplans, there is a hierarchy of access between rooms within the house, and some rooms can be entered only by passing through other rooms.
Houses are a major vehicle for socialization, and buildings also structure the worldviews and ideology of their inhabitants, forming their habitus. One suggestion to explain the unique spatial configuration of040 the four-room house is that the structure, through its nonhierarchical configuration, participated in the maintenance of ancient Israel’s “egalitarian” ethos.b
Another, and more relevant, explanation was that the four-room house was suitable for a society that considered privacy to be of importance, and/or when contact was to be regulated. Since each room could have been accessed directly from the central space, there was no need to pass through other rooms, and undesired contact could be avoided. Purity, therefore, could be strictly kept even if an unclean person resided in the house, because the inhabitants could avoid the room in which he or, more often, she stayed.
Indeed, one unique feature of most of the Biblical purity laws (especially the priestly laws) that differs from many other ancient Near Eastern societies is that, while imposing restrictions on menstruating women, the laws do not require them to leave the house. That the menstruant is not secluded from her family and home is also reflected in 2 Samuel 11:2-5, where Bathsheba is described as bathing on the roof to purify herself from her period.
Still, due to the restrictions imposed on them, it is reasonable that menstruating women spent some of their time in a separate space. The four-room house plan was ideally suited for a society that regulated contact, on the one hand, and housed unclean individuals within the house, on the other. Thus, it is in fact likely that the house is responsible for the development of the laws as later written down in the Bible. That is to say, the architecture of the typical ancient Israelite house appears to enable the development of the menstrual purity laws described in the Bible.
The above generalizations are based on the study of dozens of dwellings uncovered in the land of Israel—but referred only to their plans. The meticulous excavation of a perfectly preserved four-room house at Tel ‘Eton enabled us to take the study of purity one step further and to reconstruct how purity was actually practiced within the house as part of the daily activities.
Tel ‘Eton is a large site located in the southeastern Shephelah. The Iron Age II settlement was destroyed in the late eighth century B.C.E. during an Assyrian military campaign, and one of the major findings within this destruction layer was a large four-room house (see box, “The ‘Four-Room’ House”) that was excavated in its entirety over the course of 10 seasons.4 Located on the highest point of the mound, the structure measures about 65 feet (east–west) by 40 feet (north–south). The corners and doorways were made of worked stones and ashlars, and the finds include evidence for storage surpluses, as well as bullae, sealings, and a seal. The entrance to this long house was from the east, and it led into a large courtyard. From the courtyard one could enter a system of rooms to the north, south, and west.
The building existed for a long period of time, from the tenth through the eighth centuries B.C.E. During the major phase of occupation that ended with the final destruction, there were four rooms in the northern wing, two in the western, and two in the southern, all surrounding a big, open courtyard. On the eve of its destruction, the building’s courtyard was divided into three spaces by low partition mudbrick walls.
The building’s size, location, and construction, as well as the finds unearthed in it, suggest that it belonged to the upper echelon of the small group of Iron Age II elite residences. This led us to call it the governor’s residence. Despite the impressive architecture, however, the house served as a dwelling, probably of an extended family.
The destruction of the house by fire sealed the building under 3–5 feet of debris. The finds from the house include almost 200 complete pottery vessels, nearly 500 other artifacts, and numerous additional finds (seeds, charcoals, bones, etc.), thus allowing us a good opportunity to study the use of space within the house.
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The northern wing of the house served for storage, as did the northern room of the western wing (Room C)—with some 38 storage vessels found in situ in this room alone. The northern wing also served a more public function, as it was the male part of the house. The southern wing, along with the southern room of the western wing, apparently was used for cooking, weaving, sleeping, and other activities commonly associated with women and thereby defined as more feminine.c The number of finds in these rooms was far more limited, and the percentage (let alone number) of storage vessels was much lower. The largest concentration of cooking pots, along with an installation and what might be the remains of an oven and even a loom, were unearthed in Room I, which apparently served for food preparation. In Room B, only eight vessels, of various types, were unearthed. Room J, however, was devoid of vessels altogether, giving us pause and causing us to closely consider this enigmatic room.
Room J was a large (approx. 107 sq ft), broad room. Given that it is the largest in either the northern or the southern wing, and that nearly 200 complete pottery vessels were unearthed in the whole042 building, the lack of ceramic vessels in this room is striking. Notably, a 2.6-by-3-foot surface made of crushed limestone was unearthed in the room’s entrance. This square was located between the doorposts—and slightly in front of them to the north, toward the courtyard. At the edge of this surface, a basin made of soft limestone (kirton, the local name for Eocene chalk) was uncovered upside down.
We should note that similar “empty” rooms were identified in other large four-room houses in both the rural and urban sectors, for example at Hazor and Khirbet Jemein.5 In the priestly perception presented in the Bible, as in many other societies, objects become impure by contact with impure individuals and subsequently must be purified before they can be used. Objects that can be purified by fire (metal artifacts) are first purified by fire and then by water (Numbers 31:20–24). Objects that cannot withstand fire (e.g., wood) should be purified by water only (Numbers 31:23; Leviticus 15:12). Ceramics, however, cannot be purified. Once pottery vessels become impure, they have to be broken (e.g., Leviticus 6:28; Leviticus 11:33; Leviticus 15:12; and, implicitly, Numbers 31:20–24).
Should these verses reflect a society-wide perception during the Iron Age, it would be counterproductive to give pottery vessels to unclean people. Vessels made of cheaper materials, such as wood, which is purified by water, would have been more practical, sometimes alongside more expensive metal vessels. Rooms devoid of ceramics in large Iron Age houses seem to suggest that Israelite society did treat pottery as potentially “dangerous” material and hence used it with care, influencing its distribution. This view is supported by other lines of evidence, such as the lack (or extreme rarity) of imported pottery in Iron Age Israelite settlements, suggesting that the view that ceramics can become impure was indeed widespread.
I suggest that Room J at Tel ‘Eton was used to house unclean individuals.
During the main phase of the house’s existence, it was one of eight rooms on the ground floor, all of which had direct access to the courtyard. (The same applies to all rooms in the upper floor, access043 to which was through a ladder stationed in the central courtyard.) Access analysis suggests that the building could house unclean individuals, but it does not prove it—and does not direct us toward the relevant room.
The emptiness of Room J, however, takes us a step further, since the lack of ceramics in this room likely resulted from its use by impure people.6 Not only was the room found devoid of pottery, but so was a large part of the adjacent courtyard. Mass concentrations of vessels were found farther inside the courtyard, which together with an installation probably created a sort of a screen that limited movement of people crossing the courtyard toward Room J.
Visibility is another aspect that suggests Room J was especially suited for housing unclean individuals. The location of the room near the entrance to the building and the fact that it is a broad room with the doorway located far from its center meant that most of the room could not have been viewed from the courtyard even when the doorway was open, and that large parts of it could have been viewed only upon entering the room.
The location of the room had additional advantages. The courtyard of the house was quite crowded, and since the unclean people were not restricted to Room J, the room’s location at the edge of the courtyard enabled them to come and go with minimal chances of unwittingly crossing path with other members of the household and defiling people or objects.
In sum, these characteristics indicate that Room J was ideally suited for containing impure individuals within the household and possibly for separating pure and impure:
1. The overall planning of the house.
2. The location of Room J on the ground floor, with easy access from the structure’s doorway. (Establishing the room on the upper floor would have been impractical.)
3. The room’s location near the entrance to the building and quite far from the possible paths crossing the busy courtyard to or between the other rooms.
4. The room’s location in the “feminine” area of the structure.
5. The room’s location in a relatively concealed spot, and the location of the room’s doorway relative to the room itself.
6. The room’s size, allowing spacious activities.
7. The lack of any pottery vessels in the room.
The suggestion that Room J was used to house unclean individuals fits nicely with the existence of similar rooms in other large four-room houses. It strengthens the hypothesis that large, extended families maintained empty rooms for such purposes. (That such rooms are typical mainly of large houses is hardly surprising, as only large households had enough members to make it worthwhile to devote a room for such purposes.)
The evidence from the Tel ‘Eton building allows us to take one step further and reconstruct the ritual that accompanied the end of impurity. One should recall the 2.6-by-3-foot white surface made of crushed limestone that was unearthed at the entrance to the room. At the northern edge of this surface, we found a basin made of soft limestone. The empty room, the square surface at the entrance, and the stone basin were instrumental in the purity ritual.
The most common purifying agent in the ancient Near East (and worldwide) was water, which is explicitly mentioned in the relevant contexts (Leviticus 15; Deuteronomy 23:10–11; 2 Kings 5, etc.). That water was used in the purification of menstruating women can also be seen in the story of Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11:4), in the reference to the water of menstruation in Numbers 31:23, and in the widespread060 usage of water in purification elsewhere (e.g., Leviticus 15). Indeed, the use of water for purification is common throughout the world. To be sure, the Iron Age Israelite practice of ritual cleaning did not involve bathing in a mikveh, which was a later development. Rather, it involved pouring water on the impure.
Purification rituals are also rites of passage accompanying transitions between different statuses and spaces. Rites of passage are typically divided into three phases or parts: (1) separation, (2) transition (or liminality), and (3) (re-)incorporation.
Menstruants—and other unclean individuals—were separated from their regular, daily routine and transferred to a different space. During the transitional phase, they were in a limbo, and many of their daily activities were forbidden to them. When the reason for their impurity disappeared, the unclean individuals062 were ready to reenter their ordinary world and become regular members of their households and communities. This, however, required a certain ritual to reconnect them with society.
It seems only natural that the ritual would take place in the physical passage—where the individual was tangibly transitioning from one place to another and from one status to another. We suggest that the ceremony took place in the doorway of Room J, at the edge of the crushed limestone surface between the two doorposts. The crushed limestone abutted those posts, which led to the room itself, and the rest of the limestone surface continued to the courtyard. When the impure individuals ended their impurity and were ready to move—symbolically and physically—from the room into the regular space (and status), they stood at the threshold, on the crushed limestone surface between the doorposts. At this stage, water was poured on the individual, most likely drawn from the basin that stood at the edge of the crushed limestone surface. It may be further suggested that this person then crossed the threshold and stepped into the courtyard, still staying on the white surface, while the water was poured on him or her. This final step into the courtyard symbolized the transition from the unclean state to the new status of a clean individual and a regular member of the household.
The excellent state of preservation of the four-room edifice at Tel ‘Eton and its meticulous excavation have allowed us to reconstruct the use of space within this house in great detail and even to recreate the purifying ritual. We hope that the excavation of additional complete houses will shed more light on all aspects of the ancient Israelites’ daily life and will allow us insights into their social world and beliefs.
Purification practices of ancient Israelite society before the introduction of mikva’ot remain largely unexplored. Recent excavations at Tel ‘Eton, in the southeastern Shephelah, yielded rich data on household life and practices in the tenth through the eighth centuries B.C.E. A large four-room house at Tel ‘Eton offers a rare glimpse of how Iron Age Israelites coped with the issues of ritual impurity, and it enables the author to reconstruct the purification ritual.
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1. See Avraham Faust and Hayah Katz, “The Archaeology of Purity and Impurity: A Case-Study from Tel ‘Eton, Israel,” Cambridge Archaeological Journal 27 (2017), pp. 1–27 (doi: 10.1017/S0959774316000494) for broader discussion and additional references. The study was supported by the Israel Science Foundation grant “The Birth, Life and Death of a Four-Room House at Tel ‘Eton” (no. 284/11).
2. Ehud Netzer only quotes Moshe Weinfled’s suggestion that the rigid planning of the four-room house might have facilitated “the separation between purity and impurity—such as the avoidance of a woman during menstruation.” See Ehud Netzer, “Domestic Architecture in the Iron Age,” in Aharon Kempinski and Ronny Reich, eds., The Architecture of Ancient Israel from the Prehistoric to the Persian Period (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1992) p. 19, n. 24.
3. Avraham Faust and Shlomo Bunimovitz, “The House and the World: The Israelite House as a Microcosm,” in Rainer Albertz et al., eds., Family and Household Religion (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2014), pp. 143–164.
4. See Avraham Faust et al., “The Birth, Life and Death of an Iron Age House at Tel ‘Eton, Israel,” Levant 49.2 (2017), pp. 136–173.
5. See Shulamit Geva, Hazor, Israel: An Urban Community of the 8th Century BCE, BAR International series S543 (Oxford: British Archaeological Reports, 1989), pp. 41–42; and Shimon Dar, “Hirbet Jemein—a First Temple Village in Western Samaria,” in Shimon Dar and Zeev Safrai, eds., Shomron Studies (Tel Aviv: Hakibutz Hameuchad, 1986), pp. 13–73 [in Hebrew].
6. In theory, the lack of vessels could indicate that the room was a stable for animals. However, this room was screened by an installation and a row of vessels in the courtyard that prevented easy access. While people could, carefully, pass the barrier and move toward the room, animals would most likely have broken the vessels. Furthermore, the unique surface at the entrance to the room would have been disturbed by animals. Additionally, the room itself lacked any sort of drainage, and the low frequency of phytoliths in it also runs against its identification as a stable. Finally, there were no installations that could feed the animals.