What religion are you, and why?
I was raised as a Southern Baptist but I fell away from that as a teenager and I was actively hostile towards that faith, and towards Christianity in general, until I was in my mid-twenties.
And then I met a Jewish man and we started talking about building a life together, and I wanted to learn more about the culture and religion that produced him, so I started reading about Judaism and attending services, and then I met with a rabbi and started the formal conversion process.
I chose to be a Reform Jew and went to the mikveh (ritual bath for the purpose of conversion)in December 1994 after about 1 ½ yrs of study. I chose Reform because it was geographically convenient, but the liberal movements of Judaism fit with my understanding of God. I know there are philosophical differences between Reform and Conservative, but I think they are gradually merging together. Reform is returning towards traditional practice, and the evolution of Conservative halacha (Jewish ritual laws) is growing closer to Reform practice. I like them both. I feel at home in both kinds of congregations. If I chose to affiliate with a Conservative congregation, I’d have to go to the mikveh again, but that wouldn’t be a big deal for me. (Meaning, I wouldn’t mind it.)
What do I like about Judaism?
1. Learning is valued. Exegesis is valued. Looking at different perspectives and arguing about meaning has been the crux of Judaism for 5000 years. You’re supposed to argue with God. You’re not supposed to turn off your brain when you walk into synagogue. You’re supposed to learn/study daily – not rote memorization, but critical study.
2. The idea that this life is important in and of itself, that it’s not merely a rehearsal or a prologue for the afterlife, that it’s not a mere blip in metaphysical existence. This becomes important when talking about social justice. When you look at other models of existence, if this mortal life is not important in comparison with all eternity, then what is the point of fighting for justice in this world? If there will be pie in the sky by and by, then accepting situations in this life as-is becomes an easier proposition. Especially if you’re being oppressed by somebody, when it becomes divinely ordained that you take it and don’t talk back. Judaism is aggressively in the face of this attitude (although more so in the last 50 years than before).
3. The wheel-of-fortune idea, that you may have blessings now but you might not have them later, or you might not have them now but you might later, reinforced by the story of Job and the concept of Jubilee and shmitta. That it is incumbent upon those who have blessings to assist those who do not, not because they love people so much but because it is the just, right, and moral thing to do.
4. The idea that we are partners in creation with God, that we should work with the materials given to us by the Almighty and together produce bread or houses or whatever – and that ties back into the social justice ideas. God doesn’t rain manna down from Heaven anymore, it’s up to us, as partners with God, to provide for those who are not currently being blessed. Tikkun Olam – healing the world – is also part of this – that it’s our job to make the world a better place.
5. It’s a way for me to experience the Almighty that provides both intellectual and spiritual/emotional fulfillment, a sense of community, a sense of purpose, and a moral framework.
6. The idea that Judaism is not exclusive – it’s not the only way to approach God and righteousness is not an exclusively Jewish trait.
7. It’s an Abrahamic framework, so a lot of it was familiar to me already from my childhood.
8. It’s not fatalistic. There is the idea that God has a plan, but we do have choices.
9. Women are valued. Really and truly valued. No, it's not perfect. Yes, there are still problems. However, it's a lot better than what I grew up with. The first service I attended was the sisterhood service at the Reform temple where I was living at the time. I cannot fully express how powerful it was to me for women to be on the pulpit (I didn’t know the word “bimah” at the time), leading the service, reading from the Torah. In the liberal (i.e., Reform and Conservative) movements, women can be rabbis and have equal footing for responsibilities and honors. In Orthodoxy, there are a lot more “can’ts” for women, but even in Orthodoxy, women have rights, obligations, and esteemed status. Eshet Chayil (A Woman of Valor, from a passage in Proverbs) is not a delicate flower of womanhood – she’s industrious and she handles her business, both in her home and in her community, and her husband is supposed to formally praise her at least weekly. This is in stark contrast to the fragile yet selfless nurturer “Angel in the House” image that I grew up with – that women should be meek, submissive, and lack autonomy in every arena.
10. There is no expectation of evangelism. This was difficult to wrap my head around as I was in the process of conversion, because traditionally converts are supposed to be denied 3 times before being accepted as students. I come from a tradition where converts are actually sought out, pulled in off of streetcorners and smothered with sugar, and are encouraged to pray and convert without a lot of preparation. To go from that to a tradition where conversion is actively discouraged because it has been actually illegal during various points of history was difficult. And then I had to study and learn about history, traditions, rituals, prayers, and learn a whole different language with a whole different alphabet. I felt like I had to scrap and claw my way in. However, it made me examine my motivations for searching on the spiritual journey. It ties into the non-exclusivity idea of Judaism. Why go to all this trouble if you can be just as cloe to God by following another religion? There's nothing wrong with being a Gentile. I guess where I'm going with this is that I appreciate it more because I had to work so hard for it.
So, what's your story?