Last year, I spent
Christmas night at Shabbat Services. We had spent the past 24 hours with my
Catholic family. Christmas Eve in one house. Christmas dinner at another. On
the way home, on a warm and rainy Christmas night, we decided to take a drive
through the nearby light show. We passed the local Chinese restaurant, and it
was packed. We knew that there were certainly enough Jews for a minyan. My husband mentioned that there were
services at our synagogue in an hour. I said, "I'm game." My daughter
said that she'd like to go to services before returning to college. Son was not
as enthusiastic, but he didn't complain either. So, after listening to
Christmas carols on Pandora as we viewed the light show, I said good-bye to
Christmas for the year by pausing the carols at the conclusion of the song.
Then we pulled into the synagogue parking lot. We were the only interfaith
family in attendance, but we weren't the only family. It was a peaceful - and
enjoyable way to end the holiday.
Our Rabbi's d'var
was all about balance. Although my response to her question about balance
focused on career and family, I just now realized how, at that very moment, I
was balancing my role as an interfaith mother. At that point, with my parents
gone, I was wondering why I'm still trying to walk this balance beam. I'm
wondering…
During services, my
son, who by no fault of his own, had a rather unique formal Jewish upbringing,
sang out strong - reading either the Hebrew or having memorized the blessings.
My daughter, a freshman in college, was there by choice. We had done what we
set out to do.
Good Shabbos,
Christmas.
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