Caution. Tread carefully!
It is a
very big step to leave the culture and traditions of your family and upbringing
– even if you don’t consider they were very strong and present – and family and
friends may not understand or feel fully supportive of your decision.
It is a
mistake to imagine that you can slip from one religion into another – Judaism –
as if it is a change of clothes. Though
someone who has done the study and the intellectual work and attended synagogue
and celebrated the cycle of the festivals over a year or more may be able to be
accepted by a ‘Bet Din’ (Jewish court), and indeed may know more than someone born
Jewish, the journey is really longer.
That is the equivalent of ‘taking off your Learner plates’. It can take many years to be familiar with
life cycle events like circumcisions, wedding and funerals, comfortable with
the cycle of the year, with the smells and tastes and vocabulary.
Someone came
up to me once and said ‘I converted thirteen years ago, I have raised two
children, made Shabbat dinner and lit the candles every week, celebrated Pesach
and Rosh Hashanah and Chanukah and Purim year in year out, fasted and reflected
every Yom Kippur. Now I feel I am
leaving Jewish childhood – and I’d like to prepare to lead the service and read
Torah – and celebrate my coming of age as a Jewish Adult by having a
Bat-Mitzvah’.
What a
great thing to do – she really got it! But
it took her 13 years.
The danger
is that, if you have a life crisis – death of a parent or child, a serious
illness, or loss of a partner or spouse or something else traumatic – before you
realise you feel completely safe and comfortable and ‘at home’ in the Jewish
community, you may want to go ‘back’ to what you grew up with – and find you
are no longer at home or welcome there either.
In other words, by undertaking this journey, you risk entering a ‘nether-land’
for some years, and it is important to understand that this may become more
significant and difficult than you realise at present.
I recently
found a similar explanation, albeit warning Jews of the danger of leaving
Judaism for Christianity, as explained by Mordecai in George Eliot’s last book,
Daniel Deronda, in Chapter 42:
Can a fresh-made garment of citizenship weave itself
straightway into the flesh and change the slow deposit of eighteen centuries?
What is the citizenship of him who walks among a people he has no hardy kindred
and fellowship with, and has lost the sense of brotherhood with his own race?
Good luck with your religious journey.
Rabbi
Jonathan
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