You don’t know me, but my name is Laura and I’ve found my way here from my everyday blog. We can’t go on until I tell you a secret, though. I’m converting. I hate saying it, not only because it leads into telling my whole life story, but because it’s rather deceptive. It implies that I’m converting from some other religion. I’m not. I’m converting from parents who apparently thought that all you have to do to be Jewish is to celebrate Hanukkah occasionally and just “believe!” I didn’t know until I was fifteen that Judaism generally makes its way through the mother’s side. It’s strange too, because I certainly don’t feel attached to my mom’s Catholic contribution, even though both of my parents were equally ambivalent about their religions.
Long story short, my Conservative rabbi isn’t into working with me, so while I go to Conservative Shabbat services and Conservative minyan and Conservative Torah study, I’m pretty much all the while circumventing my Conservative rabbi in order to have a Reform Bat Mitzvah.
The Reform rabbi likes me because I learn Hebrew really quickly, and she said “We could probably do this before you transfer in the fall.” She gave me this big giant binder full of articles to read and religious questions to answer.
As you can see, it’s not going extremely well, but I rest knowing she probably won’t read that section anyway.
But lo! what a difference my Reform experience was from my Conservative one! I have to admit that I prefer the “You’re already Jewish, let’s teach you how to leyn and get on with your life” approach to the “Just learn Talmud on the internet yourself because I’m too busy to study with you even though I’m not too busy to study with this other guy who’s not you” approach. The way I see it, you’ve got to learn any way you can, even when your Conservative rabbi is avoiding you.
Let me tell you something, though. There are things about converting you don’t even think about. For example, you don’t even think about how hard a fast is going to be. Sorry, Esther, I broke your fast with popcorn. At 3:30. While baking challah. Which didn’t even rise. I feel like that probably shouldn’t a surprising thing.
There are upsides too, though—do you know what an enthralling sensation it can be to read for months about something, only to—at a glorious pinnacle—actually experience it for the first time? Reading that you’re supposed to smell spices during Havdala is quite different from your first time seeing the spice box being passed around. Reading that you make noise upon hearing Haman’s name in the Megillah is quite different from your first time sitting in the middle of it!
I hope you had a great Purim—It’s my new favorite holiday.
