Interfaith Marriage G-3

This is going to be a very personal post.

Our son just gave us the wonderful news that he and his beautiful girlfriend are getting married. (Date TBD.) We are almost as thrilled as the day of his birth, (and I am much less tired). I couldn't have picked a more perfect soul mate for my son than his beloved. And, believe me, before she came into his life, I tried. And tried.

In the ten minutes it took for me to put a dozen proverbial wedding carriages before the horse, I imagined going with my future daughter-in-law to pick out her dress, handing over my invitation list for our side of the family with 200 names, (just like my mother-in-law did for my wedding) and being summarily denied, (just like my mother-in-law was not). Then as my mind wandered to my husband and I walking our son down the aisle, I was startled by a realization: I don't know what that aisle will look like. My son is marrying a woman who is not Jewish.

Please don't jump to any conclusions about my saying that, and stay with me. I was not Jewish when my husband and I met. I went through conversion before we got married, and went later with my children to the mikvah when we joined a Conservative synagogue. (This is a long story that I won't detail in this blog post, except to say that I will always be grateful to Rabbi Neil Cooper for his guidance and support of our family's Jewish identity.)

My husband grew up in a Conservative home, and AFTER we announced to our parents that we were getting married, he realized that it was important to him to have Jewish children. However, in 1982, all he knew was that children were only considered Jewish if their mothers were Jewish. The Reform movement rabbis would announce their acceptance of patrilineal descent one year later, in 1983. And my husband had no idea that Reconstructionist rabbis had accepted it in 1968. So he asked me if I would be willing to convert to Judaism. My personal affiliation at that time was a Buddhist/Humanist combo, having moved away from the Christianity of my family of origin years before. I knew nothing about Judaism and I loved this guy. So I said, "Sure, why not?"

Our wedding was beautiful and inclusive. We got married on Halloween, with a woman rabbi officiating, and it made both our non-Jewish and Jewish family members equally uncomfortable and confused.

Our decisions about how to raise our children came easily because we continued to agree on one basic value: Our kids would be Jewish. We could think of no other way to approach this than the way we chose, which was to begin with a two-parent Jewish household. My husband and I had no idea what it meant in practice. We had to learn, build and create our Jewish home with intention (and negotiation) every day. Years later, I would find out that we weren't much different than parents who were both born Jewish.

My rabbi asked me about 20 years ago if I would be hurt if any of my sons married a non-Jewish woman. I recall saying, "Of course, I would. I didn't go through all of this, and work so hard at creating a Jewish home, for them to put it all aside."

I think about who I was when I said that. I was in the middle of my own identity formation. I was learning about Judaism while at the same time teaching not only my children but my husband, whose identity was formed less by Jewish practice and more by immersion in Jewish ethnicity.

A lot has changed in 32 years.

In the world of 1982, the value neutral language of Spouse Jewish and Spouse Not-Jewish used in the recent Pew Study didn't exist, but the word shiksa did, and wasn't hip or used tongue-in-cheek. "Non-Jewish parents raising Jewish children," were not talked about, and they were certainly not an ordinary sight in congregations. Today, non-Jews are so active in our shuls that one of the most lively discussions last month on United Synagogue's presidents' list serve was about recognition of non-Jews as members of our kehillot, and questioning to what extent by-laws should reflect the roles of non-Jews in the governance of our synagogues.

In our family, our children and their cousins call themselves G-3, (Generation 3), counting the generations from their grandparents, to my husband and his siblings, to themselves. Their collective Jewish identification, as I have written before, falls on the continuum from ultra-Orthodox to "none." In 1982, we never imagined this diverse Jewish world and the variety of ways our family would experience Judaism.

I am not going to ask my son (yet) about his thoughts about raising Jewish children. He needs to do some other things that are also on the list for bringing naches to Jewish mothers and fathers - like getting a Ph.D. in neurobiology in June.

The road to raising children with Jewish identity is different from the one onto which his father and I stepped 32 years ago. It will be his and his wife's decision about their shared values and the path they take. I will love my grandchildren if we are blessed with them....period. My husband and I will do what we have always done - create a proud Jewish home of learning, experience, memories and identity for a new generation, wherever their starting point may be.

Here's all I know right now: My wearing a purple dress and red shoes to the wedding is non-negotiable. I can whittle down my invitation list to 100. And I want to be called Safta, if and when the time comes.