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Home Presentation for Yom Kippur Symposium 5767, October 2, 2006
G’mar Tov!
I read and reread numerous times the letter from Rabbi Block.
“He wants me to speak ...on Yom Kippur, the holiest of holidays? He obviously made a mistake. He forgot. He forgot that I’m not Jewish.”
“On this day the bimah is filled with Jewish leaders that we look to for wisdom and guidance. I’m an infant in my knowledge of Judaism. I’m still learning. Why would the congregants want to hear from me? What wisdom do I have to share?”
So, thinking that one quick call would eliminate this confusion, I called Iris, my friend, and the rabbi’s assistant. Imagine my surprise when she said it was no mistake. They wanted a non-Jewish temple member to speak at the Yom Kippur Symposium. I politely refused.
Then my husband quietly said, “You know, Jacob will behaving his Bar Mitzvah soon. Wouldn’t it set a great example for him if his mom was on the bimah for Yom Kippur?”
Now, I’m not sure if that was an example of a parent’s Jewish wisdom or Jewish guilt, but it worked. Here I am.
Growing up in Texas my only encounter with “Jewishness” was through a little girl named Anne Frank. I have vivid memories of where I was and the feelings of sadness that welled inside as I read her diary entries. Obviously reading her book made an impact on me as a fourth grader; but that was the extent of my very limited exposure until I met Bart years later.
My introduction into Judaism was taken in baby steps. The first couple of years were Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services at a small temple in Abilene, Texas, with visiting rabbis. I found the Hebrew confusing; however, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in the translated prayers.
Then the Air Force moved us to Altus, Oklahoma. The nearest anything - including a temple- was almost two hours away. No rabbi there either. What could you learn about Judaism planted in the middle of cotton fields in southwestern Oklahoma? A lot. I was soon to find out.
I learned that being Jewish does not require a building or a temple but a group of people coming together with the desire to celebrate their traditions and values- a havurah. Our havurah was about six families strong and consisted of both local and military families, from toddlers to retirees. We shared all holidays both at home and at Wichita Falls’ House of David.. For me, it was a growth in learning.
My family and friends like to remind me of my more memorable faux pas in this growth. Such as the time my friend, Tracy Jacobson, asked what she could bring to Passover dinner and I suggested she bring--- the bread.
One Hanukkah there was a panicked realization I had just served the visiting rabbi from Israel cheesecake that was not kosher, even though it was sent to us by a friend for Hanukkah. (Some things you just keep quiet about.)
And then there was the time, knowing my much loved father-in-law didn’t eat pork, I made him a very special lunch He casually asked before eating if there was any pork in the meal. “No.” I happily answered. “It’s made with....pepperoni.”
In Altus, my family and I experienced the growth of new traditions in our home. For instance, there is the tradition of our five minute Seder that was written out of desperation by my husband, Bart, after we had 20 people for Passover and four of them were...two-years-old. Or the tradition of lighting every menorah in the community at our annual Hanukkah Party and then opening the blinds to share the glow with passers-by.
Many of our traditions have transcended the miles. Bart is a pilot and in those first years there were many Friday nights Jacob and I called to get help with the Shabbat blessings. When Bart was not reachable our daughter, who was a freshman at A&M, led us in the blessing of the Hanukkia. Surprisingly, I observed that my children, Shayla and Trent, embraced our new traditions and seemed to incorporate them with their own.
According to the Jewish Outreach Institute there are an estimated 100,000 non-Jewish women in North America raising their children as Jews. Why did I choose to be one of them? Primarily, I wanted my child to have a connection-- a relationship-- with God.
When Bart and I realized that our friendship was more than a friendship we discussed the possibility of children, and surprisingly, the religion issue came up. How did other interfaith couples deal with this dilemma? At the time we didn’t know any couples in this situation to ask, so we did our own research.
We could offer a sampling of both Judaism and Christianity and let him decide which, if either, inspired him.
We could introduce neither, try to raise a moral child, and enjoy our Sundays by sleeping in(not to mention the money we could save). Neither of these options were seriously considered.
I had the joy of sharing my family’s religion and traditions with my two older children, Shayla and Trent. I did not want to deny Bart the same. More importantly, because of my basic belief that no one religion holds the only key to God’s truth, the decision became obvious to me. Put the burden on Bart. He could choose-Methodist or Jewish-but whatever the choice, we would both be involved. It was a decision we made before marriage, and before children. I now know it was the right decision.
The first several years I played a dual role. Church on Sundays with Shayla and Trent; then Jewish holidays and the occasional Shabbat dinner celebrated with friends. Was it difficult? Yes! Was it rewarding? Absolutely, as I mentioned earlier, we have many treasured memories and established traditions.
By the time we found Temple Beth El our older children were away at school. My plan was to continue as we had been - continue to support Bart and Jacob, but on Sunday mornings after dropping Jacob off for religious school I would drop-in at local Methodist church for services. And, quite frankly, Temple life intimidated me. However, that soon changed as Temple Beth El gave me many opportunities to continue my growth. I found that through volunteer work, such as Meals On Wheels, Mitzvah Day, Passover Candy Sale Coordinator, and Dolls for Darfur; and educational opportunities from A Taste of Judaism to Conversion classes my place of worship was here.
Until a few days ago the idea of having to speak today of such highly personal things seemed an overwhelming task. ...the questions, the memories, the self-examination. What I have come to know through this process is my family has found a Temple home that encourages reparation of our world (tikkun olam), growth in our worship of God (avohdah), and tolerance of our differences.
So today I stand before you to say, “Thank you." Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to be a member of Temple Beth El.
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