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."