guest column
by Tinamarie Bernard

i am a goy-between

I’m a goy-between. That’s the nickname I gave myself, a 38 year-old woman who is converting to Judaism. This is a process that I initiated, and am getting through, with the help of some great people. My support system includes two Rabbis, several Jewish friends and fellow ‘convertees’, a preschool-aged son, and Christian parents who don’t quite understand what their adult daughter is doing, but nonetheless have accepted my decision to become a Jew-by-choice. I’m not engaged to a Jewish man, nor was my ex-husband Jewish. My son isn’t even circumcised, which as far as problems are concerned, is a hard one. So my path is a solitary one. And as history would suggest, the Tribe may be an unlucky club to join. But I am committed to my decision. So I am often asked, “Why are you doing this?”

Since my early 20’s, I knew I wasn’t Christian.

I was brought up in a spiritually open-minded home. We celebrated Christmas and Easter, and I identified with the values of mainstream society. But Christianity just didn’t resonate with me, despite being married to a Catholic, and years of exploration. It was like I was on the path with other people, but whereas they walked without interference, I stumbled over stones and stepped into potholes. But despite feeling out of step, I’ve always respected the beliefs of others. You could say I am intolerant of intolerance, but I am working on that. Thus, when asked, I identified myself as spiritual, not religious.

In 2005, I began exploring Judaism through independent reading, studying and asking questions of my Jewish friends. The questioning part wasn’t new; I’ve always been wired that way. But my probing had intensified. Suddenly separated and headed for divorce, I was at an emotional and spiritual crossroad. Something inside me desired expression and community. And Judaism had always intrigued me. But since I thought you had to be born Jewish, or marry a Jew, I didn’t consciously acknowledge my yearning.

Jews don’t proselytize. It wasn’t until my life turned upside down, that I was compelled to heed my soul. Really see Judaism with my adult eyes. Fresh eyes and a discerning mind. One night and one book later (‘The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Judaism’) and something echoed true for me. Within a week, I matriculated to books for people one step past neophyte status. Within a few months, I was officially on the conversion path.

What is it about Judaism that means so much to me? The answer is as complex as Judaism, Jews and the history of the Jewish people. In a world that is frayed and broken, a Jewish community matters. Whether you are religious or secular, Judaism binds us to a code of conduct that makes a difference in the world. I’m just beginning to learn what Jews have introduced to the world: Tikkun Olam, democracy, the music of Dylan and the theory of relativity have little in common except for originating in Jewish minds.

Judaism is a multi-layered matrix of religion, spirituality, languages, culture, literature, food, history, customs and holidays. The more I learn, the more I’m connected to its pulse. Friends are teaching me Yiddish and Hebrew, giving me Judaica, and opening their homes for Shabbat and holidays. I am humbled by the warmth of my reception.

But I’m also surprised by how some Jews wear their heritage like an accident or burden. It isn’t easy to convert; it takes time, patience and effort. And I envy natural-born Jews for their birthright. Of course I accept that by becoming Jewish as an adult, I’m not weighed down by memories of weekends spent in Hebrew school, the cellular memory of anti-Semitism, the Holocaust or aunt-Esther’s kvetching and bad breath. I come to Judaism because it reverberates with me in a way that really matters. And I am raising my son to feel connected to our Jewish community too.

So it would be fabulous if I could inspire a few Jews-by-birth to re-engage with their heritage. Find something within the community – religious, spiritual or secular – that moves you. Do a mitzvah, attend a Jewish cultural event, light the Shabbos candles, or learn to meditate. Read books, go to synagogue, study Torah, bake your family recipe of noodle kugel, sing the songs and tell the stories of the Jewish heritage.

Because being Jewish is special. Being Jewish means you are chosen; chosen to demonstrate the best that humankind can offer if you really pay attention to the messages of Judaism. And it’s a message the world really needs these days. That’s my opinion, but I’m still just a goy-between.

For feedback, contact editor@sdjewishjournal.com.