17 posts tagged “conversion”
Saul Singer's column in yesterday's Jerusalem Post highlights a few (common?) responses from readers who objected to his claim that anti-conversion attitudes now threaten Jewish survival in the modern world.
There is nothing sacred about the birth connection. Just as born Jews migrate away from their birth religion toward nothing or another religion, there is at least some small proportion of non-Jews for whom Judaism is a much better fit.
Many converts feel they have come home to something that was always inside them. Others develop this feeling of belonging over time. Just because Jewishness may not always be "explainable in rational terms" does not mean that the only people with "Jewish souls" are born Jews.
THIS BRINGS US to the fear of "dilution." Sure, converts will, like born Jews, be spread out on the spectrum of observance and Jewish identity. But why are Jews so quick to assume that the supposed non-Jewishness of converts will affect Jewish culture, rather than vice versa?
I've signed up for a "Part II" Intro to Judaism class at Temple Emanuel in Beverly Hills; however, if they can't get 10-12 students (the first class is this Thursday), the class will be canceled. Which would blow, because I'm really looking forward to it. I sure hope the requisite number of folks materialize... Note that this class is not just for potential converts, it could be a great "brush up" class for Jews as well.
From URJ site:
NEW THIS YEAR IN LOS ANGELES: Introduction to Judaism, Part II. If you enjoyed Introduction to Judaism, or want to know more about the texts and history of the Jewish people, you may want to sign up for Introduction to Judaism, Part II, a year-long course taught by Rabbi Suzanne Singer, Director of the Introduction to Judaism program. Classes begin October 4th, 2007, 7:30-9:00 PM, at Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills. Tuition is: $250/year, $200/semester; $200/year, $150/semester for members of URJ-affiliated synagogues. To register, please contact Rabbi Singer: (818) 907-8740, ssinger@urj.org.
Don't make me beg!
I've become quite interested in reading blog entries and articles about attitudes of born Jews toward Jews-by-choice. While my own current experience would lump me, currently, with the more-or-less insecure (but not insincere!) lot of proselytes--I don't think I'd ever be mistaken for a Jew based on looks and I have a less-than-rudimentary Jewish education--I do think it's perfectly natural to feel this way at this point. I'm realizing that time, commitment and action are the only answers--if you want to be Jewish, do Jewish. Thick skin probably helps, too. In fact, it's required.
- Jewcy article from earlier this year, "The Etiquette of Welcoming Converts." The comments at the bottom are more fascinating than the article itself: it starts off with a rather well-known (and controversial) LA Jew-by-choice who says, quit whining -- "Jews have a long proud history and to think that anyone who converts can immediately appropriate this and walk around proclaiming his Jewishness is disconcerting. A convert has to earn his stripes. If he's not strong enough to deal with some skepticism and rudeness, then he's a wimp and the Jews don't need him." While that may seem harsh, there's some truth in there.
- One of these Jews is not like the other (again, Jewcy.com)
- Jewish Attitudes Toward Non-Jews from the ever-useful Jewfaq.com
- Recent article from the Just Making It Up blog
- Posts from Jews-by-Choice: Leah and an inspiring entry from Tikkun Ger
My new favorite response to the "Funny, you don't look Jewish!" comment is (thanks, Jewcy) -- "Well, I was born Jewish, but unfortunately my parents were Protestant."
It's really been stressing me out that I have not updated this blog most of the summer, and I apologize to the four or so people who actually read it (har har), but after the Idaho trip it was non-stop craziness: back-to-school time for my son, multiple family and friend birthdays, my niece's high school graduation, a home-remodeling-job-gone-bad to deal with...
And then the Holidays were here!
As this was my first experience with Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur--and now Sukkot--I approached it all very systematically: I bought books. Lots of them. I listened to Kol Nidre renditions, downloaded podcasts, finally committed Shehecheyanu in Hebrew to memory (hooray!), poured over the Machzor, pondered the meaning of repentance, bought a small shofar for my son, went with my family on an educational trip to a Jewish children's museum, spoke with/e-mailed rabbis, planned my fast...
What I didn't do, was buy a ticket. I guess I had hoped to find a "High Holidays for beginners" class, but I waited too long for that. So I was left scrambling to try and find free local services, and in the process I was politely reminded that I'm not Jewish yet (and I will never be in the eyes of some folks) and that if I did attend I could end up taking a seat from someone who is already Jewish and looking for a service... Ugh. Not exactly a confidence-builder, but not wholly unexpected, either.
But at a time when even the most non-religious Jews attend synagogue, I'm at home watching an online Kol Nidre webcast. Unacceptable, and I've been beating myself up over it all week. My confidence slipped momentarily, and I am determined not to let that happen again. After a very promising start with the Intro to Judaism classes, tons of book learnin', some online shul shopping and a various Shabbat services in the West Los Angeles area, I've recently found myself having a hard time overcoming this... shyness? Seriously?
It's not just shyness or standard introverted-ness. It's more like, sometimes I feel like I have a big, red, blinking sign on my forehead: am I sincere? Vote now! The irrational thoughts creep into my head whenever I enter an unfamiliar place, as if people are thinking: Who does this guy think he is? What is he doing here? Anyone know him here? Anyone? No? He must be lost. Can someone show him the door?
So, here it is, the heart of the issue: what's easy for me is exploring and manifesting Jewish rhythms in my life--the miztvot, obligations, rituals, the lunisolar calendar, Shabbat, the foods, traditions, teachings, philosophies, prayers and blessings--I'm right where I feel I need to be with those things. It's all extremely challenging and rewarding. These things belong in my life. But the fear of being perceived as insincere, or worse--a fraud--has haunted me of late, especially when I'm in the synagogue and surrounded by people who all greet each other by first names.
I know that I can't let this social awkwardness get in the way of one of the most important acts of my life. I must make the transition from private observance to public/community acceptance. But it's easier said than done when you don't know anyone who might assist in that transition.
It reminds me that I am starting from scratch, from nothing.
So I have a new mantra: I know I must swallow my insecurities and that I must be confident that I do indeed belong here. Yes, I will continue to make mistakes, faux pas, second-guess myself, make less-tolerant folks angry or indignant with my perceived (or real) chutzpah. That is guaranteed and I truly apologize in advance. But I will prove, through thought, deed and action that this is where I belong.
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Someone recently told me via
e-mail that regardless of how/where I spent the Holidays, that she hoped it was
meaningful. And despite my failure to attend synagogue this Holiday, it was meaningful. I experienced sincere introspection during Rosh Hashana and I fasted on Yom Kippur and sought to truly understand what the Holidays were really about: the purpose and need for atonement, self-examination, the seeking of forgiveness from those that have been wronged--and the process of connecting with a higher power through ritual and (ouch) community.
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Like all potential Jews by choice, at some point in the near future I will select my Hebrew name. To be honest, it’s pretty exciting. How often do you get to name yourself, even if it’s a name that may only have occasional use?
For Jews by choice, we become [Hebrew Name] Avraham ben Avraham Avinu (the son of Abraham our father--we don't have Jewish parents, so our father is metaphorically the father of the Jewish people). Leah humorously notes that this is, in fact, a secret code amongst Jews by choice.
According to Rabbi Paysach J Krohn, the Talmud instructs that a Hebrew name has a definite influence on its bearer. Parents name their children after someone who has brought light or into the world, in the hope that those positive qualities will guide their own children’s lives.
And Anita Diamont says:
Many converts follow the contemporary American custom of selecting a Hebrew name based on the initial letter or sound of their English name. Thus, Robert chooses Reuben, and Mary selects Miriam. But don't feel obligated by an accident of the alphabet. Since Jewish babies are usually named after parents or grandparents, some converts choose a name to honor someone in their own lives. Some rabbis feel strongly that the person you honor should be a Jewish teacher or mentor, or even a historical figure you find inspiring.
People often ask my wife and I about our ancestry when they hear our children's names: they are hard-core Scandinavian sounding, not very common in America. But my wife is Irish-Italian by three generations, and I'm English-German if you were to dig way back about five or six generations. In fact, some of my relatives were amongst the first religious refugees to this country from England. In other words, there are no Scandinavians anywhere remotely near our family tree. So why kids' names straight out of a THOR comic book? We just liked them. Heck, I was named after an odd permutation of my father's own name, which people often assume is just a nickname. And my wife was named after a character in a Disney cartoon. Go figure.
So back to the Hebrew name thing...
There's something very cool about selecting a "new" name that may go a little deeper in the spirit. But where to begin? I’ve thus far avoided spending too much time with lists of Hebrew names—that can be overwhelming--and have instead decided that I will “discover” my Hebrew name. That is, my Hebrew name will find me as my studies and awareness progress. My level of Torah knowledge (and of probably of Jewish knowledge in general) is probably comparable to a six-year-old child, so I have a whole lot of learnin’ to do in the meantime. But every day brings another potential Hebrew name to my attention.
And aside from the “obvious” biblical names, there are many Jewish people, places and things who exemplify or symbolize Jewish ideals that I’d wish to associate myself with. I agree with Rabbi Krohn's assessment: association by name leads to a kind of expectation-setting. You do not become like those who bore that name, simply by calling yourself by that name. But there should be an internal desire to “live up” to this name, even if it's in your own unique in way.
But I’m curious. If you’re Jewish (born or by choice), what role has your Hebrew name played in your life beyond the synagogue?
Wow--has it really been that long since my last post?
- Finished my 100 question "final exam" for my Intro to Judaism class. It was truly a wonderful program. I learned quite a bit and I now have a small library in the front room. Seriously, Amazon should have a frequent shopper program for conversion students. Now it's all about a period of ritual, holidays, customs and observance.
- I found a Reform synagogue in West Los Angeles that I really like. Attended a beautiful Shabbat evening service.
- I think I need to take a Hebrew class, maybe online. I'm not a quick study with language and I find myself unable to self-learn, even with instructional books.
- House remodel is picking up pace. It's been seven months without a kitchen...
- In addition to my "regular" gig, I know have 2 other business projects that are in various stages of startup-funding. It's pretty exhausting right now. I'm hoping one will pan out.
- This is my first week of kashrut observance (or at least, a subset of the dietary laws). I'm starting simply--avoiding the obvious treif animals (pork & shellfish), not boiling a kid in it's own mother's milk (goodbye, cheeseburgers!) and drinking kosher wine. Without a kitchen, it's a little difficult to do much more than that. Of course, there is much more to keeping kosher than just what I'm doing right now, but for me, I've found that my motivation is three-fold:
- Thinking about what/how I'm eating--whether it's in preparation for a meal or picking from a menu--truly brings me emotionally, spiritually closer to Judaism and being Jewish. It's a three-times-a-day reminder.
- Thinking about how animals are raised and slaughtered reminds me that while it's OK to eat meat, we have a responsibility to make sure there is not needless suffering.
- It's an outward manifestation of "doing" Jewish.
That's all for now!
It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks. I haven't had much time to return to this blog, but I thought I'd post a few noteworthy events in my life.
- Attended my first Shabbat service last Friday at a temple. I took my son--it was family Shabbat night. I was a little nervous and I was hoping that it wasn't too obvious that I'd never set foot inside a sanctuary before or that I'd never worn a kippah. But that feeling dissipated the moment I stepped inside; the Rabbi shook my hand and told me jokingly that I'd get more points if I sat closer to the bimah. It was a lovely service. I felt much more emboldened. My son really enjoyed the songs, even though we struggled along with the Hebrew-to-English pronunciations. Next week, we're going to attend Friday service at another shul and start to get a feel for the many congregations in the area.
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Read Finding God: Ten Jewish Responses -- what an amazing summary of the divergent liberal ideas of God within Judaism, from traditional theism to religious naturalism. I wish I would have read this book twenty years ago. More on this soon--I think it's worth chatting about.
I arrived a bit early today for my appointment, and I was very nervous. I knew the first question would probably be, "so tell me how you've come to this place in your life." Believe it or not, this blog has made it easier to articulate myself in situations like this. I know that at times I must come off as a complete idiot, but writing allows me to sort things out in my head--with the added bonus of community input and critique. Critique is hard, but it's why I keep a public blog and not a private diary.
And it's what allowed me to speak intelligently with the Rabbi today.
It was a very welcoming and warm experience. The Rabbi--I'm pretty sure he was younger than me--quickly put me at ease and we spent about twenty minutes talking about my motivations and my path thus far. How much do I know about Judaism? About the Jewish people? What does my family think of all this? He asked some thought-provoking questions, and commented that most converts that he has dealt with were usually converting with an eye toward a relationship with a Jewish partner. I would truly be starting "from scratch" with Judaism. Not unheard of, he said, but a challenge. At one point he paused, he retreated to his library shelf, fetched Megilat Rut and had me read it out loud (I fumbled badly with the Hebrew names--I called Orpah "Oprah"--ugh):
And Ruth said, "Do not entreat me to leave you, to return from following you, for wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people and your God my God...
So Ruth was the first convert to Judaism, and she is the connection to the Davidic (Messianic) line. Perhaps it can be interpreted that God welcomes converts, and that they are just as important--and Jewish--as those born Jewish.
But the Rabbi reminded me that there are other considerations: first and foremost, my wife and children. What benefit is a "mixed" marriage to Judaism, or to my family, unless there is a Jewish home and education? I take that to mean that if converting would cause religious discord at home, or if Judaism was only half-observed, then it's a disservice to all involved. Additionally, each child would need to go through a conversion process to become Jewish.
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My wife made a wise comment when I enrolled in an online Judaism class: she said--don't you think it would be better to study in a group, and talk to people going through the same thing? I mentioned this to the Rabbi and he said to compliment my wife on her insight: yes, I need to experience community and worship, and perhaps enroll in the Temple's own Intro to Judaism class in the Fall. He suggested a summer day camp for my oldest, and that we try to attend some Friday or Saturday services as a family. He also invited me to Sunday Torah study, but said not to be surprised by the argumentative nature of that group. I don't know if I'm ready to argue just yet :)
We chatted about Reform vs. Conservative views, and the open hearts and minds of the Temple's Reform congregation: many ethnicities and backgrounds, mixed-marriages and a true acceptance of any gender orientation. He said that many members have different understandings of God and the meaning of ritual and role of Judaism in their lives.
He also recommended two books--Finding God: Ten Jewish Responses and To Life: A Celebration of of Jewish Being and Thinking.
I came away from the meeting feeling encouraged. And welcome.
I watched “Everything is Illuminated” last night on TiVo. It’s an alternating funny and heart-wrenching movie about a young Jewish man (Elijah Wood) who travels to Ukraine to seek out his ancestral shtetl and to find out more about his grandfather and his roots. Ultimately, it’s a story about connecting with one's past, coming to terms with memory and reality—and the the horrors of the Holocaust.
It struck me in a profound way.
As a convert, how do I deal with my lack of Jewish identity? How do I relate to the collective history of the Jewish people--the Holocaust included--without feeling like a fraud? How does that history become my history? There is no “old country” for me, no Yiddish proverbs, no ancestral memories. Where will those things come from?
The answer, I think, is that Jews By Choice must make their own Jewish memories over time. They must forge these through association and conscious involvement. For me, everything I do is an act of memory creation.
For instance, when I bought my Shabbat candleholders from a discount bin in a rush the day of my first Shabbat observance (when I got home, I realized the holders didn’t match—but it was getting dark so I groaned and lit the candles), I thought: I wonder if I’ll always use these? Perhaps they will be a tradition, a symbol of my desire to convert. A memory of a time when I was trying to create memories: perhaps there’s a story in there that I can tell my kids.
These kinds of (forced?) traditions may substitute, in the short-term, for any sort of “real” remembrances, ancestral Jewish artifacts, family recipes and connections that tie my family and myself to Judasim. Upon conversion, my connection to the Tribe will still be spiritual, and not traceable in a genealogy chart.
But I must believe that the connection will be no less direct.
My wife and I have started telling people (beyond the relative anonymity of this blog and the accidental "outing" by my seven-year-old son on a camping trip) that I’m in the process of converting to Judaism. It's an important milestone in the process. A Rabbi I spoke with iterated how important it is to start telling people sooner, rather than later, during the conversion process.
Given my atheist past, my wife and I expected some incredulous reactions. We were not disappointed. But we were also pleasantly surprised by the genuine acceptance from family and friends that we’ve informed thus far.
My wife’s mother, a very tolerant and liberal Catholic, was pleased. She’s glad that our family will have religion in our lives. If I ever wonder where my wife got her open-mindedness from, I need look no further than her mom.
My own mother’s initial reaction was that Judaism was absolutely preferable to atheism, although she didn’t know much about Jews beyond The Passion of the Christ. She also wondered if she somehow might be to “blame” for me not being a Christian because she didn’t send me to Sunday school past the age of five. I assured her this was not the case. She was very non-nonchalant about the whole thing. I kept thinking, is this just a smoke screen? Am I going to get a frantic call later on tonight? Nope. She's actually OK with it, so far.
My sister, who adopted Catholicism after marriage, was almost in tears—of joy. She said she hoped that I would find something and was very eager to find out more about it.
I had knots in my stomach when I sent a good friend (roomies in college, best-men at each other’s weddings, etc.) a link to this blog with no explanation other than: hey, we haven’t spoken in a while, but check out my blog! We were two peas in a pod when it came to atheism back in college. So I had to tell him, try to explain. What I received back from him was nothing short of amazing: he too had been pondering the big Religion question. He said he was a bit embarrassed to talk to me about it--but he had been considering attending church with his wife.
Still two peas in the pod. How wonderful is that?
I have many, many more people to tell, but so far so good.
