When Worlds Collide: Transitioning
Before posting her two worlds post, Tamara and I had briefly discussed the difficulties that being observant and fitting into the “outside world” — as Tova Mirvis penned it in her book by the same name.*
After reading and re-reading her post and trying to come up with a proper response to post in the comments, I was struck by my own experience, which serves not necessarily as a refutation of her post, but rather of a different perspective of observance as a Reform Jew trying to live in two different worlds, one of which is constantly evolving. Feel free to skip to the bold part if you want to NOT read about me, but rather the issue and my questions about it.
For many non-Jews, it might seem weird that I’ll nosh on the leftover cheese pizza after Wednesday faculty luncheons, yet I insist on being out of work on Friday in time to get to Shabbat or that I take off to observe certain holidays. I have to imagine that they think it’s weird, especially since there’s another Jew in the office who leaves work each Friday at noon and doesn’t come to any of the luncheons, parties or other food-related engagements. I’m not about to dismiss my coworkers as naive. They know there are different levels of observance, yes, but if I don’t grab the shrimp or pork, yet go freely for the pizza or the leftover fried rice, I sometimes get interesting looks. Indeed, there might come a day when I stop eating the leftovers and goodies offered, and I haven’t really figured out how to explain something like that to people when they’ve watched me scarf the leftovers for months. Will my sudden change in activity seem forced? Will it appear as if I’m doing it for Jewish show? What will they think? Will there be questions? Will anyone even say anything? (And on that token, does it even matter.)
This may seem silly, but in truth it’s a great stress for me. When I first began my path to conversion, I was subjected to an uncomfortable amount of verbal attacks. I was told that “Judaism is just a hobby” for me. I got all the jokes (including the ones about Jews and ovens) thrown around. The stereotypes were issued my way. I was once a member of a online forum with former coworkers to keep in touch with each other as we each graduated and moved along. I haven’t been on that forum for months, and do not intend to go back. I was subjected to years of inappropriate, hateful harassment, which forced plenty of others off the forum, too. Often I was told that I flaunted my Jewishness. That I made a point of being different, it seemed.
I couldn’t go to parties on Shabbat until after shul (G-d forbid) — I even converted on a Friday evening, missing my final collegiate newspaper shindig (which, by the way, a few friends also missed part of so they could attend my conversion). I didn’t eat pork. If we ordered pizza, there had to be just cheese. I was an irritant, it seemed. But was I really acting different? How different was it? On a campus with 60-70 Jews, it was hard to not be different, without even trying. But there were those who used me as a resource, asked questions, whenever someone needed to ask a question, I was never a nuisance — I was the source!
So I think now: If I grow in my observance. If I keep fully kosher — at home, outside, both, either or — or if I cut myself off on Shabbat from computer and phone, if I become more observant, not just to become more observant, but to grow within my Judaism … will it come with ease? After all, I’m a Reform Jew. Most Reform Jews don’t do observance beyond what I’m doing right now.
I guess what I’m saying is, it’s hard to be a Reform Jew in a world where there are differences. People in my office know what observant is and they know what not observant is. A coworker’s ex-boyfriend was completely unobservant. Another’s said her roommate ate bacon on matzo at Passover. Reform, Orthodox, Conservative. How do you change how observant you are without raising a ruckus? How do you transition? Must you convert first to transition? Is it easier to be a Conservative Jew who is observant? Convert Orthodox? Is it weird to say “Hi, I’m a Reform Jew who is Kosher and Shomer Shabbos!” or is it even weirder to say “Hi, I’m Orthodox but don’t keep the Sabbath and I love, love, love double bacon cheeseburgers!”
Or does it even matter? Must affiliation to a movement be associated with your level of observance? And if so, does it make it easier for the outside world to accept the things you do and the things you don’t do? And then, does it even matter? Should it matter?
This is a post of questions, and I wish it was more eloquently composed, but here we are. I’m putting myself out here again, and I hope that I’m taken seriously as someone searching just as much as those who visit this page with questions are.
*Note: If you haven’t read the book, please do. It made me want to run away and embrace Mirvis’s Orthodoxy in the book, which by the way is a fiction text.
I’m hoping to write...
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Interesting points. My husband and I have pondered some of the same concerns. I guess I really don’t care as much about what my co-workers think of me or my choices, so long as I’m not inconveniencing them (and having vegetarian options available at food-related events just doesn’t seem to be that big of a deal at my work most of the time—-we have a lot of people trying not to eat so much “junk”).
However, we do talk about whether affiliation and personal choice of mode/level/strategy of observance go hand-in-hand or not. The only choice in my area is a Reform synagogue. I accept much of what Reform espouses, particularly with egalitarianism. If we had a choice, we probably would be at a Conservative synagogue, but each one is different, so who can say. I know that neither of us would be comfortable somewhere where I (as a woman or convert) would not be accepted.
No one at the synagogue makes much of how my husband and I observe, and we, in turn, make very clear that our choices about food are our choices and do not have anything to do with how we view others’ choices or that we even think of others’ choices. We would like to become more stringent with our observance, but we don’t want to get into the “do one thing at home and another in public” issue, so we are pretty comfortable with our current observance of kashrut.
I do know that many people in workplaces that are homogeneously populated feel that those who have recognizable elements of a religious life at work (headscarves, kippot, food differences, lack of availability….) are trying to “be different.” Well, Judaism is, at times, about being different (how can we “be a beacon” if we are the same as every other assimilated person in the country), but I don’t think it is as marked as people who are uncomfortable around the unfamiliar think it is. (I mean, yeah, if one says “Holiday” after every single time someone says “Christmas party” or “Christmas break” or blissfully announce the fact you aren’t celebrating anything on December 25th or denigrate the majority religion’s celebrations, I could see people getting irritated, but personal choice about food or other observances…..and what other people think of them….shouldn’t be important when considering future observance). Ok, so there’s my ramble….. Thanks for your thoughts, and I’ll try to keep a look out for the book—I like Mirvis’s stuff that I’ve read, so I hope to enjoy this one.
Chaviva: Wonderful post.
From my own experience, it is easier to be affiliated with a vibrant Conservative shul and be observant — at least in that shul’s community. But being observant — being observant about observance, and always working on it — is never easy, either within the Jewish world or outside of it.
I am looking foward to a rare full-family gathering in January when, God willing, my Dad turns 90. I’m the youngest of his 6 children, and the only one who’s an observant Jew (one of two married to a Jew). This makes my other siblings a little uncomfortable. Some of them avoid it, some challenge me on it, some ask me questions about it. They’ve all made their peace with not being observant, but my observance is taken as an irritant and an implicit challenge to them.
The family, in this way, is a kind of microcosm for the larger community, and my family has offered up all the responses I could imagine and then some.
All this is to say: part of being Jewish and observant — regardless of affiliation — is the feeling from both Jews and non-Jews that by your very observance you’re judging them, which, in your case and mine, is not at all what we’re doing. But it’s part of what comes with being a committed Jew.
Like you, although we keep a kosher home, I’ll eat out kosher-style (nothing treyf). I am never entirely comfortable with this — but who said this was a comfortable path? Make adjustments, and be ready to defend yourself to people who have no authority to challenge you. That’s life as a Jew.
ChaviJo:
First off I agree with David it is indeed a wonderful post!
Second, I think David is pretty much on the money about everything and his advice is probably better than anything I would give.
Third, although David probably wasn’t referring to me when he wrote “be ready to defend yourself to people who have no authority to challenge you” he might as well of been because I do indeed seem to have a predisposition for falling into such patterns of behavior.
However having said that, here’s my kick at answering your question.
You said:
Or does it even matter? Must affiliation to a movement be associated with your level of observance? And if so, does it make it easier for the outside world to accept the things you do and the things you don’t do? And then, does it even matter? Should it matter?
Unfortunately, I think it does matter and I think affiliation in many ways (especially for Jews by choice) is used as a measuring stick, for who you are as a Jew. Is it fair? I don’t really know. In some ways not and then in others probably yes.
I know it’s not politically correct and popular these days to rank and classify people but as Jews by choice, we didn’t convert into the same Judaism that Jews by birth (or as some say Jews by chance) were born into. We converted into a movement (whether its Orthodox, Conservative, Reform or Reconstructionist) and therefore in many ways our Jewish identity (for better or worse) is intrinsically tied to the movement, we converted into.
Therefore regardless of whether or not it’s fair, some people will define you by the movement you are forever affiliated with, via you’re conversion. Unfortunately, sometimes this is going to mean that you’re very identity as a Jew is denied because of it and other times it will lead to unfair expectations placed upon you. Sometimes this will play out as an advantage and seen as something of value and kinship and of course sometimes it won’t make any difference at all.
However I suppose it all boils down to it, only really meaning anything, if you allow others to be in your primary source for defining you as a Jew. Ultimately I think it winds up being something that’s only between you and G-d.
So does it matter? In my opinion absolutely!
Should it matter? In all honesty I think it should but not the way it usually plays out politically speaking.
Anyhow like I said great post.
Throw in the other monkey wrench for JBC folks–sometimes we’re expected to be more observant–regardless of your movement’s level of observance–than JBB of the same movement. Rightly so, no doubt, but it still can be a transition, as you say.
And some non-observant JBB just look at us like we’re crazy. I work in a industry that has a fair amount of Jews, but very little observance. Many are militant secularists, or just humanists, and if they celebrate Jewish holidays it’s on their own non-religious terms, much the way many Americans celebrate Christian-based holidays like Christmas and Easter–with family tradition, but no religion. I’ve had conversation about Passover seders that use Sholem Haggadahs, celebratations of Hanukkah with no mention of the story of a miracle, or of God. And I get the feeling they look at me as a little intellectually suspect.
I have often felt the need to show people that Judaism is not a hobby for me, although as my confidence grows (particularly after the conversion ceremonies) it’s been less the case. I think it’s natural for JBC to want to let people know that we’re sincere–to both Jews and non-Jews. It was pretty torturous for me, for a while–this feeling that I needed to prove my sincerity.
There are contradiction in my life and observance as I transition, but so be it. I have my own situational kosher rules, a base-line commitment to be sure but one that fluctuates. Shabbat is not completely a day of rest for me, yet. I am not affiliated, yet. I don’t often make it home during the winter before the sun goes down, yet.
But I am committed to resolving these contradictions.
Not to get heavy, but a Torah portion really hit the nail on the head for me when it comes to this whole issue: you know the story, Hebrews wandering in the desert for 40 years… 40 years… Why would a people be denied entry for so long when they were promised freedom, this land? Because that was how long it took before the Israelites were ready—before all vestiges of their old selves as slaves were truly put behind them—not in other peoples’ eyes, but in their own. Their own negative self-image prevented them from crossing that metaphorical bridge into a better world.
And for me, that message rings true regarding to my Jewish-ness. I can’t really be happy, I can’t really be changed or grow into my full potential until I give up my own negative self-image, stop worrying about how others might perceive me and my observance levels at this time—and just have the confidence to cross that bridge.
Also, my brother in law, who is a 2nd generation Mexican, made an interesting comment to me when I told him I was converting. He said, “I guess you’ll have to get used to being called names like us.” At first I was a insulted. Like, what do you mean? Are you some kind of anti-semite? After thinking about it I realized what he meant (or least at what I rationalize he meant) — the immigrant experience is very different than what I’ve grown up with as part of majority culture. It will be different, I will be different. Some people will have a problem with that. Get used to it.
BTW — I attended my first “real” Minyan recently, a small lay-led group that has been meeting regularly for decades (probably with many of the same members). Many of the attendees were rabbinical students. I should have been intimidated, I should have been worried about what they thought of me. Why I don’t look Jewish, why don’t I know when to bow vs raise up on my toes, or why do stumble when putting on tallit, etc.? But I wasn’t nervous (aside from usual social awkwardness).
That was liberating.
You know, I always worry when I reply to these blog posts that I’m way off topic. I probably am. Apologies
“I can’t really be happy, I can’t really be changed or grow into my full potential until I give up my own negative self-image, stop worrying about how others might perceive me and my observance levels at this time—and just have the confidence to cross that bridge.”
ChavyJo:
Michah’s statement above makes my point.
Now before I go on I must acknowledge that as a Jew by birth I can only imagine the doubts and sensitivities converts must have about their legitimacy as “real” Jews. Converting to Judaism is not like conversion to other religions where it is all a matter of professing a specific faith and practice and then following through on it. You not only have to do all that to convert to Judaism but you must also fit yourself into a community that historically has been suspicious of outsiders, a community that is not used to converts and to a great extent is bewildered by the motives of those who convert solely because of a strong attraction to the faith.
All that is true and I’m certain it is a difficult and uncomfortable road. But in my opinion all that is besides the point. Judaism is many things but primarily it is a religion, a path to communion with the divine. The fundamental relationship in that context, the one that really counts, is each Jews relationship with God. And if you look solely at that subjective relationship all Jews, whether by birth or by choice, whether tepid in terms of belief and observance or the most fervid fire-eater, all Jews question their level of observance. The Torah sets a very high bar, not only in terms of practice but also in terms of the kavanah put into that practice. So all of us, no matter who we are, question whether or not we are living up to our potential and to what is expected of us. I know I do, and every Jew I know who cares enough to be concerned about such things does too, whether they come to shul in jeans and tee-shirts or in black hats and beards. Believe me, even the black hats have their doubts, and they are as strong and real as any other Jew’s. And those doubts are good. To a large extent they are the sum and essence of the Jewish spiritual path.
The people in your office don’t matter. The people in your shul don’t matter. Judging yourself and doubting yourself on what they think is just a distraction from the only thing that does matter. Your relationship with God, and whether or not that relationship is bringing you closer to him.
Hi Micah,
Something you wrote gave me a little pause, and I think it’s worth sharing. You said:
“There are contradiction[s] in my life and observance as I transition, but so be it.”
You know, EVERY Jew, religious or not, Haredi Frumite for 5 generations or ba’al teshuvah, JBB or JBC… this is the case for ALL of us. That’s the whole point of teshuvah. We don’t become the Buddha in Judaism; unless someone is claiming to be a tzaddik, in which case, they are STILL not perfect because there is some pride in there somewhere. Anyway, there is an assumption that those who adopt the highest degree of ritual observance are on a higher level than the rest. But there is a growing recognition, even in Orthodox circles, that paying attention to a rigidly fundamentalist ritual observance while neglecting the ethical core of Judaism is a serious problem (See Rabbi Joseph Telushkin in “A Code of Jewish Ethics, volume 1: You Shall Be Holy).
We are an “Am Kadosh,” a holy people. Every mitzvah done by a Jew - JBB or JBC - is another step toward the repair of the world, and we all must start where we are at. So don’t fret about there being contradictions in your observance. There always will be, but the point is not to reach perfection, it is to perfect yourself one day at a time. That is the essence of Torah, I think.
kol tuv!
Yair
Hey there,
I’m late on the response wagon but I’m glad our little chat online grew into something more.
My only thought is that, based on your post and all the responses, we all struggle with the same things. Sure, we struggle differently. But struggle is struggle. But, there is a good thing about struggle, if you have it it means you’re alive!
Oh, and for David, perhaps we are part of the same family
Of 3 older brothers: One passed away and identified Jewish but was gay so dated any religion. 2nd brother is a practicing Reform Jew who is active in community and the synagogue. Both he and his wife are avid members on boards and such. 3rd brother converted OUT of Judaism when he married. Then there are my three step sisters. THe youngest one has no religion in her life, but does have a tree, not married to a Jew. The middle one is married twice, both to non-Jews but does do the Menorah and tree thing. Oh, and her kids all have the OPTION to attend Hebrew school, of the 3 kids there, only one still chooses to go. For the record, ALL of my siblings HAD to do Hebrew school. It wasn’t an option; therefore, we all were Bar/Bat Mitzvahed. And the oldest step sister, married to a Jew but again, kids get to choose Hebrew school and for now they are opting out.
Then there is Avi and I. Observant Conservative Jews. Well, you know our story…
Hope that story got some chuckles, eye brow raises, and well…:) Happy Chanukah all.
All, thank you for all of your responses! I have some specific thoughts about each of your responses, but am preparing to head off to Baltimore for the weekend, so that will have to wait until I get back (here’s hoping!).
I’m glad to hear that this is something that we all consider. Focusing on myself is something that I constantly struggle with — whether at the office or at shul! So here is to all of us, our struggles, our triumphs and the path to realizing who we are all meant to be.
Shabbat Shalom, and Happy Chanukah!
I think that anyone who is active in Judaism has doubts, and fluctuates in their observance. I have definitely seen incidents, and even experienced one or two myself, where JBCs were dismissed as posers or as crackpots (I assume for joining a people not exactly beloved by all). Even those of us who are Noachides experience it, as even most orthodox barely seem to know that we exist, and most other non-jews don’t understand why I eat a cheese burger but not bacon-wrapped shrimp (yes, that was served at my company’s recent holiday party). I think that people understand one end of the spectrum or the other, but grey areas seem to confuse people - I’m not sure why. I also agree with TikkunGer/Avi - people will stereotype you based on the movement you’re in (I’ve spoken with people who can’t believe a Reform Jew would be shomer shabbos, or lay tefillin). One of the only places I *haven’t* experienced this is with Chabad, but I don’t have much experience with them yet so I could be misreading things.
Hello ChavyJo:
Please allow me to add my two cents worth. First of all, I think your post is plenty eloquent - not to worry. Secondly, I think you’re too concerned with labels, organizational fealty, and pigeon-holing. A Jew is a Jew, and you’re Jewish identity is unquestionable, certainly unassailable, and in no need of characterization. A Jew doesn’t have a religious ‘practice’; Judaism isn’t a profession. Rather, it’s a familial identity. We are the descendants of Jacob - Israel (have a look at Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’s ‘We Jews’ - it’s good for one’s neshamah). I think that religious conversion to Judaism (and perhaps this also applies to conversion to other religions) carries with it a certain modicum of doubt as to the self-perception of ‘legitimacy’ by the convert. Again, not to worry. A Jew is a Jew, and if a board or panel of qualified rabbis so you are, then you are.
The issues encompassed by feminism is at odds with traditional rabbinic law, as you well know, and as you grow in your life of Torah and mitzvot you’ll find the need to reconcile this disparity between your religious and political needs/interests. All I can say is good luck. Blu Greenberg authored a series of essays, published by the Jewish Publication Society; I think it’s titled ‘On Women and Judaism. It’s well written and she’s plenty smart; it’s a perspective offered by a Jewish Orthodox feminist.
Well, that’s all. Good Shabbos and good luck.
Schvach,
I’ll definitely have to look into those two texts. I am a big reader
And I’m always willing to add to the list of things I need to read. Thanks for the thoughts. I constantly remind myself that a Jew is a Jew is a Jew, but I don’t think it is that simple, unfortunately. To me, and to the people of my synagogue and my rabbi, my Jewish identity is unquestionable. However, if I want to marry an Orthodox Jew or the like, it won’t be that easy. I, to me, am a Jew, but at that point it becomes a much larger question.
Anyhow, it’s a constantly evolving conversation in my mind. And that, of course, is what is part of being a Jew!
Shabbat Shalom to you as well,
Chavy
In the Reform shul where I began my journey toward conversion, there was a gentleman who kept kosher. There were others who actually made fun of him for keeping kosher. Even as a (then) non-Jew, I just could not understand why anyone would make fun of someone for choosing to keep a particular mitzvot.
I must say that being an observant Conservative Jew is not a whole lot easier than being an observant Reform Jew. I have come across this in my own shul and it has caused problems within my own belief system. Does it matter what others think? Not really. It only matters that you perform the mitzvot if you so choose regardless of what others think or say. … Just my humble opinion.