A Member of the Household

The first time I met my future husband’s family was at his nephew’s Bar Mitzvah. This was pretty terrifying for a couple of reasons. First, I would be meeting his entire extended family at the same time. I’m a pretty outgoing person, but when meeting a whole group of new people for the first time, I like to hang back a little and observe. Not happening here. I was the “new girlfriend” of one of their own, and therefore the subject of intense curiosity. Also, this would be my first Bar Mitzvah.

I was raised Catholic – VERY Catholic. I attended St. Anselm School for 13 years. Our next door neighbors were Methodist, and I knew a few Protestant girls in my Girl Scout troop, but I was under the impression that most people were Catholic. I knew Jewish people existed, of course. They lived in Squirrel Hill, just a few miles down the road from my hometown of Swissvale. We were taught that they believed in the Old Testament, but did not realize that the New Testament was gospel (okay, that pun was intended, but I just couldn’t help myself). I never actually met a Jewish person until I was 17.

As an adult, I developed a very strong and personal spirituality. I believe in God, and believe that it is my responsibility to treat people with kindness and to conduct myself in a moral and ethical way. I believe that organized religion provides a framework within which people can worship God, and that each and every religion is equally valid.

I also wholeheartedly believe in miracles and was blessed with one when I met my husband. After we started dating, my husband invited me to attend synagogue with him, assuring me that his was a very progressive and liberal synagogue. I was curious about Judaism, and wanted to learn more about something that was so important to him, so I agreed. Well, I fell in love again – this time with my husband’s wonderful synagogue. It is full of warm and caring people who welcome everyone, whether or not we have any business being there in the first place, including rewriting their prayer book so that it is more accessible to Jews and non-Jews alike. I have found a spiritual home and community there.

Religious beliefs aside, the biggest difference I have found between the Catholics and the Jews is their approach to questioning their beliefs. Questions were not encouraged in my Catholic school. We were taught that one should have blind faith in the teachings of the Church, and to question them was a sin that would put you at risk of going to Hell. That seemed harsh for just asking a question.

According to my husband, for every two Jewish people there are three opinions. The Jewish people I know welcome questions about their religion and traditions, and freely admit when they don’t know the answers. They will sometimes espouse theories about why they do what they do (nothing set in stone, mind you). They also embrace discourse and argument. I find this unbelievably refreshing, even when it meant having to consult three people to find out why I was doing what I was doing during the Sabbath Prayer number in “Fiddler on the Roof.”

All of this has led me to question my own religious identify. What am I, exactly? My personal spirituality allows me to worship anywhere – or nowhere- but to officially affiliate with any particular religion would not be consistent with my beliefs.

I am no longer a practicing Catholic by choice, but I couldn’t be even if I wanted to be. I’m divorced, and I think that the Catholic Church still excommunicates you for that particular digression. Yet I will always be culturally Catholic - that little Catholic girl still lives inside me. There are some things about being Catholic that I am not willing to give up, like my good relationship with St. Anthony. He helps you to find things, and he’s very good at it. The truth is you can kick the girl out of the Catholic Church, but you can’t take the Catholic school out of the girl.

Converting to Judaism, which I am not interesting in doing, is a far cry from attending a synagogue, especially one as non-traditional as ours. Yet I am beginning to understand and appreciate Judaism, and understand a little of what it is like to relate to the world as a Jewish person. So now the question for me was: where did I fit into the Jewish community, or did I?

My answer came one day when I was gathering demographic information for a project at work. I am one of 12,000 non-Jewish people in Allegheny County living in household with family members who self identify as being Jewish, or children being raised Jewish. I am a “member of a Jewish household.” (Source: “The 2002 Pittsburgh Jewish Community Study Final Report,” sponsored by the United Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh in partnership with the Jewish Healthcare Foundation, Ukeles Associates, Inc., December 2002. http://www.ujfpittsburgh.org/local_includes/downloads/3864.pdf).

I am gratified to know that I am accounted for by the Jewish community. Mostly, though, it is just nice to have an answer to a question about religion.