Giving Thanks for My Interfaith Family

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Other than being thankful for friends, family, and the blessings of the year, there is no religious aspect to the holiday. You spend time with loved ones, and there are no expectations other than a good meal and good conversation.

Our Thanksgiving tradition has changed over the years. For the past 5+ years, my nephew and his family have joined us around our table. For the past couple of years, a second nephew has joined us. We almost switched it up this year to join my husband's family. However, tradition prevailed, and my husband and daughter spent Wednesday evening and most of Thursday cooking. After everyone arrived, as is our tradition, each of us took a moment to mention something that they are thankful for. Then the Catholics said Grace Before Meals, and the Jews said the Hamotzi. The meal was fabulous, the political conversation was exciting, and the joy of just being with family was precious.

This weekend, the celebration continued. Much of my husband's family was in town to celebrate a milestone birthday for my father-in-law. All but a few of the immediate family came to our house for dinner on Friday. Once again, great food, heated political conversation, and the joy of being together were what it was all about. Just as I sat down to eat, my father-in-law, the Cantor, said, "It's Friday, isn't it?" With that, I, his non-Jewish daughter-in-law, reached behind me, pulled out some candles, lit the candles, and recited the blessing for Shabbat. Then, I poured a glass of wine and asked my father-in-law to say the  prayer over the wine. He sang the Kiddush, a blessing that was truly a blessing upon all of us to hear him sing, as we were about to celebrate his 90th birthday.

Finally, on Saturday, we celebrated his birthday with a party. It didn't dawn on me, as it often has in the past, that just about everyone who was there is Jewish. We were all simply people coming together to celebrate the life of a man who connects all of us in some way. There was a big college football game on in the background. Many alumni and a current student were cheering on the team. Renewed acquaintances, cousins who hadn't seen each other for yours, and old friends all greeted each other with warm hugs. Afterward, as a family, we sat and talked for hours.

In all of these moments this weekend, there was no interfaith. It was just family.

Now What?

Once we celebrated our daughter becoming a  Bat Mitzvah, we pondered, "Where do we go now?" Nearly 10 months had passed. There were times when I walked into the building, and, once again, finally, I felt at home. There were other times when, although I didn’t feel like an outsider, I felt like I was on parade. People were watching me, watching my husband, wondering what we were doing there. When I saw the Rabbi, I didn’t know if I should hate him or feel sorry for him. More than anything I felt sorry for us and the rest of the congregation.

I knew that I was tired of talking about the place and everything that happened there. I wasn't Jewish, and I was deep into the politics of a Jewish congregation. I couldn't help but wonder whether this would ever happen in a Catholic Church. I wanted to be done with the whole situation. I was tired of being defined by it. If we chose to stay, could we move forward? If we left, would we forever wonder what would have happened had we stayed? After everything I had done to make sure my children had a Jewish religious identity, would it be lost if we left? Or could we be happy and move on?

We left.

Now what?

After spending years deciding that our children would be raised Jewish and determining how best to raise them that way, we were at a crossroads. We had a Bat Mitzvah behind us, and we wanted our son to receive as solid a religious education as our daughter did. Would he understand the holidays? What would happen when it was time for his Bar Mitzvah? Would he be able to follow a service? Would he be able to lead the service, like his sister did? 

We began shopping for a new congregation. That's easier said than done for an interfaith family. I had just about become comfortable walking into my children's religious school and feeling like I belonged there. I was finally able to join my family for services and not feel like there was a Scarlet C (Catholic) on my chest. Not all congregations were welcoming of interfaith families. Some were happy to add you to their membership rolls, but that didn't mean that the non-Jewish parent would feel at home. That did not sit well with my commitment to actively participate in my children's religious life. I had finally learned the prayers and songs that our Reconstructionist congregation used all of the time. We were surrounded by Reform and Conservative synagogues. If we joined one How long was it going to take me to feel like I belonged? Sigh.

Rather than join a congregation, we decided to remain with our kehillah - our informal Jewish community - until the timing was right.

So, we were faced with a conundrum. When you make the decision to leave your congregation, what do you do for the 3rd grader who is just about to begin his formal religious education? You start a school. Why not?

Why did we want to start a school? We wanted to provide our child with:

• An ongoing religious education
• Friends who are Jewish
• Religious continuity
• Community
• A religious lens on the world
• The same education that his older sister had

We were very fortunate to find a teacher who we knew and who was willing to work with a group of parents who had very strong opinions. :) However, the teacher we wanted wasn't available to have class on Sunday morning or in the evening during the week. The best option was Sunday evenings. Location? The local grocery store's upper room. (The irony of it being the upper room is not lost on this Interfaith Mom.) The parents who collaborated on the curriculum decided to invite all of the families to arrive early each Sunday, grab dinner in the prepared foods section, and eat dinner together prior to class. It was wonderful! The kids became fast friends, the parents had plenty to talk about, and our religious school community was born.

Each week, the students started the class with a service. Many of the parents even attended the service. Our daughter became an aide in the school, along with the other older kids. We had built a community of peace.

Apple Picking for Rosh Hoshanah

We also had our extended community of adults whose children were beyond religious school. Our adult community joined us during our annual Chanukah celebration. In fact, they hosted us. Each family brought a menorah, and we lit them together. We joined together to celebrate the High Holy Days. The adults attended our school Shabbat service. They made our children feel like they were part of a religious community.

I am sure that these parents who we dined with each week in the upper room and the larger adult community who supported us never had any idea of their long-term impact on our interfaith family's life. If it wasn't for them, it would have been easy to throw my hands up and say, "Hey, I tried." Instead, I say, "Thank you."