My Jewish Soul

The healing journey I have been on since this past summer has taken a new ~ yet not entirely unexpected ~ direction.

For the first time in my life, I finally have the courage to tell people that I feel the need to change my religion.

Back in the day, I remember telling people, "I was meant to be born a Jewish New Yorker."

People thought I went to New York in the Summer of 1993 to see Broadway.  But I went to New York to see the Lower East Side and visit the scenes of all books I had read as a child and the movies I had seen as a young adult.

The second story on my blog, Dreams, tells my personal childhood fantasy that I have carried with me since I was 10 years old and read the whole series of "All of a Kind Family" books about a big Jewish Family living in the Lower East Side of New York City.  

I spent a whole month in New York, walking the streets of my dreams.

I took on a new job a few months ago and am surrounded again by the Jewish professors that I had met three years ago when I worked for the Literature Department.  I spent a good part of December ordering books for their classes.  Hours spent looking up books on the Holocaust ~ books I had never heard of before ~ titles like "Fatelessness" and "Dry Tears" echoed in my heart long after my work day had ended.

Born into another religion, it only occurred to me recently that I could simply decide to change.  Multiple connections led me to the same local rabbi, and we met after the new year.  She told me to take three classes and then decide if I would like to commit to two years of preparation for the conversion.  Then she invited me to Rock Shabbat.

I got on a bus last night and rode 11 miles to the temple.  I told myself I had to see what it was truly all about in real life and not just on the pages of my childhood books.  From the moment I entered the door, I felt at home.  People were chatting loudly ~ laughing ~ hugging.  There was no solemn silence leading to the concert-style service. 

For one hour, I laughed, I cried, I laughed some more.

In the middle of the series of songs, she said, "Some of you may want to dance."  And the next thing I knew, this lady to my left was grabbing my hand and the lady to my right grabbed my other hand, and together we joined a giant circle that danced a simple, soulful dance around the chairs.  One tiny moment of nervousness swept over me as I had no idea how to manage the footwork.  Thirty feet into the dance, I had the hang of it and finished two laps around the service room.

The music was unlike anything I have ever heard at a religious service.  It made me feel alive and part of a bigger world.  The rabbi led most of the songs, and she truly had the voice of an angel.  Half of the songs were in Hebrew, and I had no idea what I was singing, but sing I did.  The second half were in English, and the lyrics made me weep.  There were hand gestures to some of the songs that I learned quickly.  We would hold up one hand pointing our index finger to represent "One."

After the service, we were invited to a community room with the longest table of sweets I had ever seen.  Cakes, cookies, breads, and fruit all decadently laid out to savor and delight.  The crowd gathered around the table, and I listened and watched to see what happened next.  I followed their lead to place one hand on the back of the person in front of me as we all blessed the sweets and the bread.  Then they passed around these glorious loaves of twisted bread for us each to pull off and take a piece.  I filled a small plate of sweets and tasted two sugar cookies unlike any other sugar cookie I have ever relished.  The other rabbi had a word for the sweets which meant "delight" and delight I did.

I kept thinking the whole time that this enchanting experience was confirmation that I was making the right decision.  To feel completely at home in a room full of strangers ~ to fill the positive energy rippling through the room ~ to fill God's presence as strongly as I do at the beach ~ well, I knew my soul is Jewish ~ that I was meant to be Jewish ~ and that I will be Jewish one day.

And as I left, I whispered to the rabbi, "All of my childhood dreams came alive tonight."