“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Dr. Whatley. I have a suspicion that he’s converted to Judaism purely for the jokes!†exclaimed an outraged Jerry Seinfeld in a famous episode of his sitcom. In that scene, he bristles at the idea that his dentist, a converted Jew, makes Jewish jokes so freely. A born Jew, Jerry is virtually indignant at the fact that someone not born into his religion, who apparently doesn’t take it seriously—though Jerry is shown on the show to be less than religious, as well—can wield the same rights as someone born into Judaism.
Though Seinfeld was a very witty television show well known for its ridiculous storylines, a very real issue has been raised by this fictional situation. Where do converted Jews fit into the traditional inheritance of Jewish society? For millennia, Judaism has been an almost ethnic religion in its exclusivity to those born of Jewish parents. Jews typically trace their heritage on their mother’s side, though the Bible traces the lineage of the Israelites most often through the fathers of the various tribes. In its biological inheritance, Judaism is almost like a race, leading to my frequent saying, “I’m not white. I’m Jewish!â€
All the same, I can’t claim to understand the process of conversion and what people of other faiths feel like when coming into the Jewish religion. I was born to two Jewish parents and have always carried my heritage with pride, though, like some people of my generation, I do not practice as frequently as my parents did when they were my age. I very well might bridle at the thought of a non-Jew—not converted Jews, but someone outside of the faith entirely—joking about my heritage so casually, just like Jerry. Even though I don’t practice regularly, I was raised with a sense of Jewish heritage to the extent that it has become inseparable from who I am as a person. I would imagine that those converting to Judaism might feel a sense of slight trepidation at entering this culture, in which heritage is often passed on from parent to child and has been done so for generations.
One of the aspects I love best about Judaism, though, is its inclusiveness. To be sure, like all religions and groups, there are those who are not as welcoming of people into its fold. On the other hand, the Jewish faith in which I was raised was one that was very welcoming, always eager to help others, whether they were of our religion or not. Judaism may, in theory, be inherited, but it is those who, whether Jewish by birth or not, carry on its ideals and principles that are the true heirs of the Bible. I know from experience that those who convert to Judaism often become more fervent adherents of the religion and its benevolent forces than those born into it. Looking at my own youth, I realize that I’ve taken a lot, both good and bad, about my religion for granted, being born a Jew. Recently, I’ve taken a look at family members and friends who have converted to Judaism and seen how radiant with purpose they are, how determined they are to do good in the world. In truth, they’re probably better Jews than I am. For this New Year, I’ve vowed to follow their example and become someone of whom my ancestors, Jewish or not, would be proud.
