Church

Like many Jews of modern times I come from a mixed family.  I have, perhaps more than other people I know, a distinctly odd situation.  My mother is Jewish, which according to Jewish law makes me Jewish, as indeed I am by choice and by culture.  My father is not Jewish, which is to say he never went through the process of converting to Judaism – a very good thing, too, based on the converts I know.  He is nominally Jewish, however.

It becomes more complicated.  My Jewish mother has two brothers, both of whom have been Bar Mitzvahed, and at least one of whom has ‘left the faith,’ to put it lightly, and the other of which is derogatory of Judaism and every other religion.  With a brother and three cousins on my Jewish (i.e. maternal) side of the family, I was the only one to have a Bar/Bat Mitzvah (and I am the youngest of these cousins).  Some cousins have become more interested in their Jewish heritage as the years have progressed.

Let’s observe the paternal side of my family.  Clearly, since my father is only nominally Jewish, the family religion is something else.  My grandmother attends the Episcopalian Church; her children are all rather non-religious.  On this non-Jewish side of my family, I have two (three?) cousins who have been Bar Mitzvahed, one of whom is in the Israeli army.  I have several other cousins on this side of the family with a decidedly Jewish heritage, though varied in displays of cultural Judaism.  I did say it is an odd situation.

I’ve had a Bar Mitzvah, and I call myself Jewish, but I’m far from a practicing Jew.  I show up to services for Passover (sometimes) and haven’t been to Rosh Hashanah (new year) or Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) for several years.  However, as I mentioned, I have a grandmother who attends church.  It was my contribution – one I was glad to make – to drive my grandma to church early on a Sunday morning.  Nonetheless, it is distinctly odd sitting in church.  As a Jew, I sat there in the second row, wondering, ‘do they know I’m Jewish?’ ‘is it obvious I have no idea what I’m doing?’ – that much was clear, I’m sure.

Generally communal prayer involves some parts where the congregation responds to promptings.  I’ve always felt odd doing this – it is a mainstay of education as well to have a reading with a response – but it is decidedly odd doing this for a religion with which you are unfamiliar and don’t quite believe.  I’m not very good at lines such as “Jesus is the Lord our God.”  Mostly, or completely, these are private worries; nobody commented.  Nobody commented that I didn’t take the wine and cracker which is supposed to be blood and body.

It was, as far as necessities go, necessary that somebody take my grandma to church.  It is good to get up in the morning and not always be in the house.  I can’t complain that I did what somebody was supposed to do – and it might as well have been me – and drive to church.  It is much less an act of religion than it is of habit, custom, and socializing.  The only thing I’m missing, and I hope I remedy this, is that I should also connect to the religion with which I am familiar.  It would feel far less odd.