the jewish thing

“Why do you want to convert to Judaism?”

I get this question a lot, sometimes several times from the same people. I was asked this again last evening — while at the rock gym with a new climbing buddy (that in itself is likely a separate blog entry) — and I realized that I’ve probably not adequately answered such a query on this blog.

So here goes.

I was a student at a Montessori School from the ages of 2 to 9. While there, I was exposed to many different perspectives, cultures and religions. We celebrated anything and everything. It was fantastic. I learned the commonality of faith, rather than the separateness of traditions. Of course, I also had no idea that Christmas and Hanukkah were two different holidays, that a menorah and a Christmas tree don’t naturally go together.

It was when I transferred to St. Catherine’s Episcopal School for Girls as a fourth grader that I learned I wasn’t Jewish. It was rather disappointing.

Around that same time, I turned ten. As was the family tradition, my father’s father presented me with a leather-bound edition of the King James Bible — “Words of Christ in Red” — with my name embossed on the cover in gold. I still have that Bible. As a child, I used to read the Book of Genesis over and over again, and the story of Abraham was a particular favorite. I loved the idea of being called out into the wilderness, away from the safe haven of the city and previous belief, out into the unknown. Indeed much of my life has mirrored that very pathworking. But I’d get to the part about Joseph heading off into Egypt, and I’d lose interest and go back to the beginning again.

At that same age, I was asked to speak one morning in our Lower School chapel service — something each student had the opportunity to do at one time or another. I prepared a short talk on the Golden Rule — “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” — and emphasized that as the core of moral behavior and a common tie among all people. Not bad for a ten-year-old! At the time, I had no idea that was THE foundation — or the “on one foot” description — of Judaism.

There were other experiences I had along the way, such as going to a Friday evening, student-led Shabbat service when I was at Duke. I felt immediately welcomed by the other students, and it was so soothing and peaceful that I thought this was a great way to round out the week. I started studying Judaism on my own, but had no idea that conversion was possible.

The seeds for my conversion had been sown long before I actively began this process a year ago. But that still doesn’t answer the question of, “Why?”

I’m in a place in my life where I’m looking to put down roots, at long last. I am attracted to the strong community that Judaism offers, as well as the deep grounding in age-old tradition. But I’m probably most excited about the eternal questioning that Judaism not only encourages but practically requires — it’s not about accepting anything on blind faith, but instead is about really turning something over and over in your own mind, to find your own wisdom and to make the question itself a part of your personal experience and understanding.

This emphasis on study and experience appeals to my own questing self, the drive that has led me to pursue religious studies in a variety of academic and spiritual venues. A focus on action and social justice also obviously appeals to me. A deep tradition in mysticism speaks to the more esoteric side of me that yearns for illumination and communion. Add that to the fact that difference of opinion within Judaism is viewed more as an opportunity for learning and deeper development — rather than as a divisive threat to order and stability — and the attraction is pretty clear.

As I’ve stated earlier, my personal beliefs — which tend more to the Universal than the religious — are very much the same and are continuing along the same trajectory of growth and discovery. It’s simply that this is the first time in my life that I’m actively choosing a community and an affiliation. There have been rough patches — dealing with the misunderstandings and sometimes outright prejudice of family and friends — and times when I’ve wondered just what the hell I’m doing. I’ve worried about anti-semitism and don’t yet know my own position on zionism.

But I’m a year into this process now, and I’m still excited about it. So that’s my not-so-brief attempt at an answer this morning.