Our Mailbox

(An old post never published)

I can't tell you how many times I've opened our mailbox and wondered what the mailman must be thinking. At one point, we had the Catholic Standard and Times and the Jewish Exponent arrive on the same day! Then there were other days when we'd have the envelopes from the Church arrive on the same day that the Synagogue bulletin showed up. Even our mailbox is a testament to our interfaith family.

I wonder what others think, but I don't worry about it. In my work with Jewish educators, I am always clear that I am the non-Jewish half of an interfaith family. At first, I thought they would be shocked. However, I'm more shocked than they are. As Jews, they are surrounded by interfaith families on a regular basis. However, how often is it that they are met with someone in a leadership role who is part of an interfaith family?

If we sat down to coffee, would they question the fact that my kitchen table has a "Christmas-y" table cloth? Or when Easter Sunday falls during Passover, would they be surprised that I gladly accept the Easter bread that my neighbor stops by to deliver? Of course, it gets put away until after Passover, but I'm not sure that I won't have a piece.

 

My focus is on innovative education. How innovative is it that a former Catholic school teacher is spending her time focusing on how to build a strong Jewish identity in children? I guess my values haven't changed all that much, since we decided to raise our children Jewish. I felt it was important for them to identify with a religion -- to understand the jokes, the conversations, the stories.

Lessons in Life at my Birdfeeder

These days, I spend my Saturday and Sunday mornings working or reading at my kitchen table. It gives me time to watch the birds at my feeders and birdbath. In the span of 2 minutes this morning, and in most cases all at the same time, there was at least one:

Junco, House Sparrow, Tufted Titmouse, Black-capped Chickadee, Carolina Wren, House Finch, Mourning Dove, and a Red breasted Nuthatch. 

At most times, there was at least one squirrel. They happily coexist, as the ground feeders wait for the squirrel to push seed to the ground. There's always one or two that are pushy. One House Finch dive bombed another for a spot on the feeder. For just a moment, there was a Blue Jay and the rest dispersed. And long enough for me to take a few pictures, a Cooper's Hawk perched in the tree. Even the squirrel froze in his tracks. Then everyone returned - some right away. Others waited until they felt it was safe.

Remember the birds at my birdfeeder. We really can all get along. Sometimes we just have to try.

Sitting in the Sukkah

The hard work is worth it. The simple act of eating in the sukkah is like having Shabbat for a week. 

Sitting in a sukkah forces you to sit and talk a spell. It's what I always thought it would be to have a wrap-around porch with white rockers.

On a normal night, immediately after dinner, we often clear the table. Then we move into the family room and watch the news, a cooking show, or the latest show on Netflix. Instead of finishing dinner and immediately clearing the table, the night sounds, the dim lights, and the comfort of being surrounded by the swaying walls and night sky invite you to just be.

We talk longer. We talk about things other than work. We laugh a bit more. We simply don't rush.

Questions to Ask Yourself (or Your Child)

I have been an interfaith Mom for 24 years. The time has come when both of my 21+ year old children have been dating wonderful young people who are not Jewish. Does this surprise my husband and me? No. Does it concern me? Not really. Personally, I just want them to think about what it means should the day arrive when they decide to make their relationship a lifelong commitment, one that very well could include children. My biggest concern is that they don't think about it at all. I tried to make it look easy. I tried to have them not witness the sadness that sometime overtook me. I tried to make them feel like our life was just like any other family. I think I succeeded. As a result, it made me wonder if they might be thinking, "Well, Mom and Dad did it. Of course, we can." So, one day, I began to dictate questions into my phone - questions I think should be pondered by every young person seriously dating a person of a different faith. Some parents may even think that Jews of different branches or Christians of different branches should also consider some of these questions.

For the record, we asked our son first. He's the younger one, and he had no idea the questions were coming. Without us knowing, he asked his girlfriend of 9 months (at the time). We don't know her responses. Then we asked our daughter, also without warning. We asked her to let us ask her boyfriend of nearly three years. We asked him with her present. All of them played along, and none of them seemed offended.

Although my husband would say differently, I don't think any of these questions have a wrong answer. My goal is just to make sure that they have an answer. And, hopefully, they will encourage a conversation or two. 

I would really enjoy reading your responses to the questions in the comment selection below - or on Facebook.

1. What is the purpose of religion?

2. What does it mean to raise a child in both religions?

3. What does it meant to raise a child with no religion and let them choose?

4. If you choose to raise a child in the religion of your spouse, what are the implications for you?

5. Are there beliefs, dogma, or theology in the other person's religion that conflict with what you believe? 

6. If the answer to the question above is yes, how would you feel if your child believed that? Or if they came home from church/synagogue/religious school talking about it?

7. While growing up, if someone asked me, "What are you?" I'd say Italian and German. I wouldn't say Catholic. Some religions, Judaism as example, are considered a "culture." What does that mean?

8. If you choose to raise your children in your spouse's religion, will you still celebrate your own holidays? If so, will you celebrate them in your home? What will that look like? Or will you celebrate them with your extended family?

9. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, how will your spouse feel when you take your children to services or Mass?

10. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, how will you feel if your spouse takes your children to their religious services or Mass?

11. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, what are your expectations for your spouse? Will you go to Mass or services as a family? Will they participate in religious school?

12. If you choose to raise your children in your spouse's religion, what are your expectations for yourself? Will you go to Mass or services as a family? Will you participate in religious school?

Passover for the win!

We had a wonderful Passover this year! It actually felt like a holiday because both of our children were home, and they each brought a guest - their girlfriend and boyfriend. My son asked about the holiday about a month ago and was disappointed that, once again in the time of COVID, the family would not be gathering together for our traditional Seder. He asked if he could still come home from college to be with us. Normally, it would be a resounding, "Yes, of course!" This year had the need for logistics. Could he get tested? Would he quarantine? He did both, and so did his girlfriend. Clearly, he wanted to be home for the holiday. So did his sister's boyfriend. In fact, her boyfriend was the one who insisted on the quarantine. That's a smart bunch of young people.

The regulars all joined us for the Zoom Seder, and, like last year, we  had some join us from far and wide who don't usually get to celebrate with us. We did a full service with all of the ritual. Everyone sang. Everyone read several parts. It was real. As I looked around the Zoom screen, I realized that we were about 2/3 Jews and 1/3 gentiles. We had two gentiles with us. Our nephew has a gentile girlfriend and was joined by their Jew-ish friend who has Jewish roots in Argentina. Another extended family member is married to a gentile. I guess we were trendsetters. 

This weekend, our kids are celebrating Easter with the boyfriend and girlfriend. There was no question; it makes sense. We haven't done anything for Easter for years. In fact, when I last struggled with whether or not I should make an Easter basket, my son said, "Mom, we're Jewish. It doesn't matter." The goyim (I hope they understand that I am one as well) joined us to celebrate; I'm glad that our children will get a chance to celebrate with them. 

It all works out; it really does.

I Count the Weeks by Shabbat Candles

The last time we went out to dinner was the Friday of St. Patrick's Day weekend, 2020. 

On the following Friday night, the first one in quarantine, we lit the Shabbat candles, said the blessings over the candles, wine, and challah and enjoyed the fact that all four of us were at home together for Shabbat.

You use 2 candles per Shabbat, and we don't typically eat at home on Friday nights. So, typically, a box of candles can last us for months. Well, after a couple of 2020 Friday nights, our box of candles was empty.

So, I sent my daughter off to pick up Shabbat candles at the grocery store. She came back with a box of 72! 

"That's all they had, Mom!"

"Oh my," I exclaimed, "it will take us years to use 72 candles!"

About a month ago, we ran out of candles. We had spent 72/2 Shabbats together as a family (sometimes missing one child at college). That's 36 Friday night dinners together. And that doesn't count the first box or the box we are on on now.

It was appropriate that the night we ran out of candles was the same night we were having a Zoom dinner with one of the Interfaith couples (Iffers) who we've known - forever!

When I bought the current box of 12, I whispered a prayer that I wouldn't need a giant box again. But, honestly, it wouldn't be so bad to stop everything, eat a quiet family meal together with our grown children, and be in the moment - another 36 times. 

I still want to say goodbye to this pandemic.

Shabbat Shalom.