Time Marches On

When our son was born, we decided to join a Jewish congregation. We live in the town where my husband grew up, and his father had retired as the Cantor at a Reform congregation just across the river. We considered joining there, but we wanted to be in the same town where our children would eventually go to school. During my husband's childhood, there were very few synagogues to choose from. In fact, just about the time we were joining a congregation, an elderly woman asked him where he lived. When he responded, she said, "What! You couldn't rub 2 Jews together there." She was shocked to hear that there were indeed 3 synagogues in our town - Reform, Conservative, and Reconstructionist. She gave her opinion: "Reconstuctionist? That's worse than Reform." Although we seriously considered joining the local Reform congregation, where I had taken my Intro to Judaism class, we were told that although I would be welcome in the community and most likely drive my children to/from religious school 2 days a week until they are 13, I would not be able to fully participate in their B'nai Mitzvah. I could almost be an equal parent in my children's religious life. As a result, we did not join that community. Instead, we joined the Reconstructionist synagogue, one that was, and still is, very welcoming of interfaith families. Reconstructionists are all about being Jewish in the United States in the 21st century; it was a good fit.

As I mentioned in my Bringing Challah to Pesach post, I decided to get involved by participating in and even running programs. Although I always felt a little out of place, I knew that doing things at the synagogue was the only way I was going to begin to feel like this was home to me.

In the meantime, I was very lucky to be surrounded by a large Catholic family. They kept me connected to my history. All through the years, I shared in Catholic milestones with my parents, my local brothers, and my nieces' and my nephews' families. My children have a nice relationship with their cousins. I don't think they see each other as "Jewish" or "Catholic" - just as cousins. So that was wonderful. However, although we attended many Baptisms, First Communions, and Christmas Eves, my children were always on the periphery. It was sort of like walking through a big city and looking through the windows at the beautiful displays -- at things you knew you'd never have.

Obviously, I knew that my husband was Jewish when I married him. I just didn't know he was "that Jewish." About the time that our oldest child began religious school, he began to get involved in congregational life. He played music for Shabbat. He published the newsletter and managed the email communications. Then, all of a sudden, he was on the board. Before I knew it, he was the Vice President.

I think I was jealous - of the time he spent with the board members, the Rabbi, planning the music, and attending meetings - lots and lots of meetings.

After much reflection, many years later, I realized that my husband was exactly what I would want as far as involvement in our congregation. He was on the board. He was involved in the music. Everyone knew him - and me. He was branching out into other outreach type of responsibilities at a regional level. People thought highly of him and his dedication. At some point I realized that, if only it were in “another building,” I would have been thrilled.

After doing “this” for 9 ½ years, it took a toll on me. As my daughter became deeply ingrained in being Jewish (and announced she’ll raise her children Jewish), I had a realization about just how much of our life revolves around being Jewish.

I realized that it wasn't about the holidays. We were still doing Christmas to some extent. But, in our home, the rest was gone, and I honestly had no problem with that. I did not grow up with lots of tradition, so I was not missing that piece. What had become overwhelming was the everyday of it: When my son blasted Rick Recht on his CD player. Or when he and his buddy made believe they were in a band and belted out Rick Recht tunes. When my husband practiced Micha Mocha for hours on end and then asked me for my critique. “How do I critique it,” I shouted at him, “when I have no sense of where it belongs, even if you translate it for me?” Or when my daughter and her friend asked if Eve was the first Jewish woman? How do I answer that?

It wasn't that my children are Jewish; it’s that I had no history to share with them. No music to share. I tried to get my daughter interested in the things I did as a kid, like Girl Scouts, despite the fact that she was not all that interested. Little by little I began to feel like my children were missing out on all the years of my life that had come before them. And I was sad.

Musical History

A few days ago, I was traveling through the mountains of Pennsylvania. During my drive, I was listening to a radio station that was featuring one-hit wonders. Often, as I drive through the mountains, my radio will pop in and out of Christian radios stations. So, I wasn't shocked when I was suddenly listening to one of my all-time favorite songs from my Catholic high school days - The Lord's Prayer by Sister Janet Mead. I couldn't help but break out into glorious song. It was 3 minutes of unbridled joy for me - singing one of the songs of my youth. When the song ended, I was surprised that the station had not switched. The Lord's Prayer was one of the one-hit-wonders.

I love to sing. When I was teaching in a Catholic school, I learned to play guitar well enough that I could play the hymns at Mass. I led the singing in one of the schools, and I was the folk group leader in my parish each Sunday. My parents loved to sing in church as well. There was no mumbling the words in my family. You sang out strong, or you didn't sing at all. We believed in the axiom, "He who sings prays twice."

As a new mother, when my babies woke up in the middle of the night, the songs that came to mind as I rocked them back to sleep were always those I grew up with like Let There Be Peace on Earth, Hail Mary, Gentle Woman, The Prayer of Saint Frances, and The Lord's Prayer. I knew all of the words and the melodies. In the middle of the night, I had an internal debate. Did I sing these songs to my newborn babies? Was it wrong? Should I change the words? I was a Catholic mother singing to my newborn Jewish babies, struggling for the words to sing.

When my children grew into toddlers, we had new songs to sing - You Are My Sunshine, Itsy Bitsy Spider, and the songs from Disney Channel - Bear in the Big Blue House and Out of the Box. One of my most wonderful memories as a mom was a visit to the local mall to see the Playhouse Disney tour. I felt such a sense of camaraderie with the parents and children in that mall. We shared a common thread in our lives as parents; it gave me chills as we all sang the songs of our children's youth.

When my children were toddlers, my husband began to get more involved in our congregation. He offered to play the piano for services. In no time, he was composing liturgical music. So our home was filled with Shabbat music throughout the week. As he played more often, the songs and blessings became more a part of our daily lives than I ever imagined they would be. These were songs that, until a few years earlier, I had never heard. He knew every version from multiple Jewish movements - Reconstructionist, Reform, and, in some cases, Conservative and Orthodox. He could go into a congregation and sing along with almost any prayer. It was sort of like me being able to sing versions of Holy, Holy or Lamb of God from the 60's, 70's and 80's. Yet, I was still struggling to sing Lecha Dodi or the Shema. To this day, I still refer to the prayer book for the words.

This is the music I was hearing at home.

In my mind, I sent my preschoolers to a Jewish day school to provide them with a history that I couldn't give them. I wanted them to learn the songs and prayers that have meaning in Judaism. When they came home singing those songs, I realized that the lack of shared musical history was not a problem for my children; it was a problem for me. I was the one missing out, and I had no musical history to share.

Books that an Interfaith Mom Could Love

As a family, we spent many afternoons and early evenings perusing the books at Barnes & Noble. My children always appreciated a gift card to a book store. Each week, we made time to visit the public library; we always had 10 books per child checked out. Up until the time my children were in Middle School, reading books together was part of our nightly ritual. When they were little ones, we read during the day as well. As an educator, good books with wonderful stories and illustrations are part of who I am. My favorite college course was Children's Literature with Dr. Dornish. Ah, the joy of picking up a good book and sharing it with children. And, when I was teaching, the day the Scholastic book order arrived was the best day of the month - for my students and for me.

Since we are an interfaith family, we read books about Christian holidays as well as Jewish holidays. However, I realized early on that the pickings were slim for books about Jewish holidays or Jewish themes. The fact that there were so many beautiful books about Christmas, and there was next to nothing about Chanukah annoyed me. Upon reflection, Chanukah is actually a minor holiday on the Jewish calendar. It is really only emphasized in the United States because it falls so close to Christmas. However, as an interfaith Mom, that gave me no solace. If everyone else's children had the opportunity to enjoy a book about their holiday, my children should as well. 

So, as I began looking for books for all Jewish holidays, I was saddened by the selection. Either the stories were ridiculous and trying to replicate the traditions of a Christian holiday that falls during the same season, or poorly written with mediocre images. When you have young children, you look for picture books with pictures that could be considered for the Caldecott Medal. As they reach chapter books, you hope for stories that are worthy of the Newbery Medal. The books I found were disappointing to say the least.

There were two exceptions. There were quite a few novels for young readers about being an interfaith family at Christmas. Also, while my daughter was in middle school, she read every book she could find that had a Holocaust theme, and there were many.

What I have been describing is based on my experience as a mother of young children. Fast forward to today. For those of you who would like to read to your children or provide your children with good books with Jewish themes, the news is good. Just recently, I was introduced to the PJ Library. On a monthly basis, children ages 6 months - 8 years can receive a free Jewish-themed book delivered to their doorstep. Oh, how I wish PJ Library existed when my children were little! I can just imagine the joy when the mail delivery arrived. On a recent afternoon, I had the opportunity to check out many of the books from PJ Library. The pictures? Fabulous! The stories? Engaging. The selection? Amazing! Although these books are also available at bookstores without the PJ imprint, as an extra bonus, the PJ Library-imprinted books have a book jacket flap that makes beautiful connections between the content and Jewish themes. By the way, for your older kids, there is PJ Our Way and PJ Goes to School. Those of you in Jewish homes with young children are very fortunate.

As we approach the Jewish High Holidays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, I encourage you to begin your search for wonderful books. I hope you'll share your favorites in the Comments below. 

In Response to My Brother's Questions

This topic of my children being raised Jewish has really not come up in conversations between my brothers and sisters-in-law and me. Maybe it's a "boy" thing; they just never asked. And I really don't remember telling them. I assume my parents did.

One of my brothers has consistently gone out of his way to send our family cards for Chanukah, asked us about the High Holidays, and read about Judaism.

That same brother let me know that he is reading my blog. I am delighted. Today, he sent me an email asking me a few questions that I figured I'd respond to in a blog post, since others may be wondering the same thing.

First, he asked what happened to the cross in my logo. It seems that part of it was cut off on some screen resolutions (the reason I removed it from the blog until we sort that out). There was nothing more to the logo than that. My son created the image, and I liked that it showed the blending of our two faiths. However, they are distinctly different. Either way, I think that the technology malfunction sparked his questions.

Are you a practicing Catholic? 

I am not. If you are one of my friends from K-12, that probably surprises you. When our class was voting for most likely to succeed, I was voted most likely to become a nun! And, if you've ever listened to Billy Joel's Only the Good Die Young, I feel like he was singing about me.

There was a time when I considered going back to the Church. I even went back to Mass a couple of times; however, I realized that I was just going through the motions.

So, there, I've said it. Before you judge, I hope you'll take a look at all of your family and friends who are Catholic and married to Catholics (or other "matching" religions) and consider whether or not they are practicing Catholics (or fill-in-the-blank).

Although my brother didn’t ask, I’ll answer. No, I haven’t converted.

Do the kids know anything about Christianity, traditions and holi/holy days? 

Absolutely! You'll read about our celebrations as we approach the holidays. But to be quick about it, we celebrate Christmas Eve every year with my niece's family. Then we spend Christmas Day with my nephew's family. The Christmas before my mom died, the kids decorated Grandmom and Grandpop's house for Christmas, since my parents weren’t up for it. My kids would not allow Christmas to pass without decorations. We decorate our house every year – just with snow men and ornament trees rather than with religious decorations and a green Christmas tree. My children understand what Christians believe about Jesus and his significance; however, they don’t understand the differences between Christians. I'm sure my daughter will begin to learn more during her college years.

Christmas on Shabbat

Since Easter and Good Friday were considered holy days at our house growing up, I've always treated it that way in our home. I did give our kids Easter baskets for quite a few years, and, of course we always visited my Mom and Dad. I even told my children all about the days within Holy Week and what that week is all about. However, without much non-religious tradition to fall back on, that has been the extent of our Easter celebration.

The only times my children have been to Mass has been one Christmas Eve and 2 funerals. I told them about the "St. Joseph" side of the church and the "Blessed Mother" side. (We always sat on the Blessed Mother side.) They've asked about Communion, incense, and the crucifix, which I explained as I would to my own students.

My Dad prayed the rosary every day for 70 years. Since it was very important to my Dad, they understand its significance as well.

So, yes, we have exposed our children to Catholicism. They love their Catholic family. However, they don't consider themselves half-Catholic.

My kids are Jewish and identify themselves as Jews with a Catholic mother and Catholic extended family.

Bringing Challah to Pesach

If you're a mom raising children in a religion other than your own, it helps to have engaged extended family members. As it turns out, when we decided to raise our future children Jewish, my mother-in-law had already been battling cancer for a couple of years. We lost her only 6 months after our daughter was born. So, I began my journey as an interfaith mom with a significant piece of my "raising my children Jewish" support system gone.

Having taught in a religious school, albeit Catholic, I knew how important building a solid foundation was. So, both of our children attended preschool at a Jewish day school. I figured that while they went to preschool surrounded by Jewish prayers, learning to say them in Hebrew, learning the Hebrew alphabet, and celebrating the holidays, that I, the non-Jewish mother, would be educated at the same time. It worked. No matter what the activity was, my husband and I were both there to participate - when she was the Shabbat Girl and he the Shabbat Boy, Grandparents' Day, Services, and field trips. My father-in-law and sister-in-law came to many of the events as well. My local Jewish sister-in-law made the decision that she would be surrogate grandmother to our children and attend all of the events she knew her mother would have attended. My other sister-in-law lives across the country, but she has always been there as a support as well. I never felt like I was alone.(Thanks :) )

While anticipating raising children in a religion that is not my own, I expected that the Christian holidays would be my hardest days. Don't get me wrong; those days are tough. However, it's the day-to-day little things that could take me over the edge.

One of the early struggles I had was the need to send a Dairy meal to preschool for lunch. Oh, and by the way, there was a peanut allergy, so we could not send PB&J. Yikes! I had no idea what I was going to send on the days that my daughter stayed for lunch. I felt like I was wearing a scarlet letter saying NOT JEWISH, and I didn't want to mess up. (I feared that I would be the one to offer to bring Challah to Pesach!) We somehow managed, and our children did not starve. Yet, 12 years later, I still cringe at the memory of making lunches for preschool.

Field trips were hard for me, as I watched the other mothers chatting away. They had their friends, and I never felt like I fit in. I desperately wanted to, but I was truly nervous about joining in on their conversations. I felt like I would say something wrong. Years later, I became friendly with some of those moms and discovered, in many cases, it was all in my head. So, if you are new to this world and want to be a part of it, take the plunge. Believe me, it can't be much harder than making the decision to raise your children in another faith.

Shortly after our second child was born, we joined a local synagogue. Our son was still in a baby carrier, and our daughter was a toddler. My sister-in-law and her husband also joined this congregation, even though, while their children were growing up, they had been members of another one. It has always been comforting to see them at services through the years. It made me feel like this decision was bigger than the two of us.

Being a member of a congregation was a key part of our growth as an interfaith family. It gave us events to attend - the Purim carnival, Friday night services, a chocolate Seder, Tot Shabbat, and family services. I like to do things 110%, so I knew I had to get involved. I organized the library. I worked on an art auction. I even organized and facilitated a panel discussion about Planning a Bar/Bat Mitzvah! Although our children attended another preschool, I helped with the launch of our congregation's preschool. There were times that people were surprised to hear that I was an interfaith mom, and I wasn't Jewish.

Fortunately, my sister-in-law's husband's extended family has become our adopted Jewish family. Between my sister-in-law and her extended family we had every holiday meal covered. As the kids got older, we hosted our share of holiday meals as well. My sisters-in-law can tell you that I called them several years in a row to find out if we needed wine for Erev Rosh Hoshanah or what we needed to include on a seder plate. 

I have been very lucky to have a supportive extended Jewish family. I believe that a sense of belonging is important. Not feeling like you are on the outside looking in is essential. Feeling like you are part of your child's religious education is priceless.

Out of Sight - Out of Mind?

We just dropped our daughter off to begin her second year of college at one of the largest universities in the United States. One of the many things I wondered about when she started college was whether or not she would participate in religious experiences on campus.

When she was "talking" with prospective roommates via text and Facebook, she had put together a list of questions to ask. This being new to me, since, back in the day, roommate assignments were random, I asked her what she was asking. I was shocked that one of her questions was along the lines of, "I’m Jewish. Is that okay with you?" Yikes! It never dawned on me, the interfaith mom, that this would be a concern she would have. Fortunately, she found a roommate who is happy to hear about how her family celebrates the holidays.

As huge as her university is, our daughter discovered something that shocked her. She is the first Jew that most of her friends had EVER met! Yes, the FIRST! She also discovered that universities don't close for Jewish holidays.

I marveled midway through the year that my Christian friends, family, and acquaintances were so disappointed that their children missed Easter at home. My daughter had already missed being home for all of the big Jewish holidays - Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Passover, and yes, the minor, yet family-oriented, Chanukah.

Our family has always fully participated in the Jewish holidays - at home and in Shul. As you know, the High Holidays are about 5 minutes into the school year. We have always been fortunate that our school system closes for the High Holidays.  I wondered if our daughter would attend services for Rosh Hashanah. Would she fast for Yom Kippur?

 As a young woman out on her own for the first time, she had to go to her professors and let them know that she'd either miss class or be late for class, so that she could attend services. In order to do this, she had to be comfortable in her Jewishness. She had to have no fear that her desire to practice her faith would be questioned. She had to have a strong Jewish identity.

When the school year started, she knew one guy from home who attended the same school. They had worked together in religious school, but they weren't particularly close until the end of Senior year. She was happy to run into him at RH services. He was sitting with a young woman, whom he had met at a Jewish activity back near home. They invited her to join them for YK services. Before I knew it, they were hanging around together at college. The girls baked Challah together at Hillel. They went to a couple of Shabbat services together. She had made her Jewish connection.

On my visit just before Chanukah, I arrived with a suitcase filled with 8 small gifts. She got a kick out of that. That's when I saw her cute little Christmas tree - about 12 inches high. It was right next to the menorah that our dear friend made for her and the cheap electric one that we got for her in Senior year to be sure she had one in college. On the first night of Chanukah, we Face-Timed with her to sing the blessings and light the candles. We lit ours; she lit hers. We sang. 

Since she is one for tradition, it quickly became one. Each night, she joined us to light the candles.  Each night, more of her friends would join us virtually - Christians and Jews alike. When the Jewish friends joined her, it was delightful to hear them all join us in singing the blessings.

As Passover approached, she planned to come home for the Seders. It was perfect since it would be on Friday and Saturday nights. We weren't hosting this year, but she wanted to bring two of her Christian friends home with her to join us. Our wonderful hosts generously said yes to her request. Everything was set, until she realized that her friends' classes ended too late to catch the bus. "Mom, will you come get us?" 4 hours there; 4 hours back. 3 hour Seder. "Of course, I'll come." How could I say no, when I had worked so hard for 19 years leading up to this moment?

So, here we are after dropping her off at school to begin her second year. The holidays are a bit late this year - in October. She'll be deep into classes by then. Looking forward to seeing how she lives her Jewish life this year.

The Naming and the Bris

We chose not to be told in advance whether we were having a girl or a boy. When our daughter was born, we knew that there would be a naming. Since we wanted to set the stage from the beginning that a girl is equal to a boy, we decided that her naming would be 8 days after her birth.

I'd like to say right here that the 8 day rule must have been created by men. The house was clean, since we were getting ready for baby. However, we were just figuring out how to be parents. There were bottles and baby paraphernalia everywhere. And, of course, there's that fact that I had just given birth. Thank G-d for my mother-in-law and my husband's Godmother. They made sure our guests had something to nosh on after the service.

The service was lead by the same Rabbi who taught my Intro to Judaism class. She made sure to include everyone and make everyone comfortable.

A little over 3 years later, our second child's birth called for a Bris. 

In an attempt to make my parents feel part of this milestone, the Rabbi asked if my Dad would like to hold the baby during the Bris. Uh?! Are you kidding? My Dad had 5 sons and had never witnessed a single Bris. Not a chance I was going to ask him to do this.

I had only been to one Bris prior to this, and I wasn't prepared for how I'd feel. At our friends' son's Bris, I stayed with the new Mom who sat at the top of the steps with her friends. She just couldn't be in the room. At our son's Bris, I wanted to be there for the main event. My husband convinced me that I would feel better knowing what was going on rather than in another room wondering. 

So, there we were surrounded by family and friends. The mohel had it down to a science. He handed my husband and me a prayer to say. We read it while crying, and by the time we finished, the deed was done.

They then handed my father the baby and a "lollipop" soaked in wine. The baby sure liked that lollipop!