Sticking to the Point

Conversion and a book

Yesterday morning, A and I became Jews. I've written here and especially at the old joint, about my conversion over this past year. A blessing with informal, yet personal monthly meetings alone with the rabbi.

The last month felt the most serious. I had to write two essays to be presented to the Beth Din, who would witness our conversion as required by Jewish law. Since the other two rabbis had no relationship with me, these essays would provide them with the reasons why I wanted to convert, how I was raised, how I intended to have a Jewish home and most importantly, how we'd raise our child.

Part of the traditional procedure of becoming a Jew is having a mikvah; a purefication ceremony very similar to being baptized. (Which makes me think of the baptism episode on  Curb) Mikvahs are seperate from the synagogue and ours was in a house. I imagine people live upstairs, there was a very foreign looking woman (M said she had an Israeli accent) who unlocked the door downstairs but never actually appeared. We entered and sat in a waiting area, with 4 chairs semi-circled in front of the couch. A and I sat on the couch and the rabbis along with M sat facing us and asked a few questions before proceeding.  I was a little uncomfortable answering questions in front of M, realizing later, I've never been in a situation where he would observe me individually.

This is the mikvah bath.

It's not the actual one we used, ours was at the other end and it was half again as full.  Mikvahs are totally nude. You go into the waters as you came into this world and all jewelry is left behind. My rabbi is a woman so she came into the mikvah bath (on the side, not in the water) with us. Because the two other rabbis were men, they stood at the pictured pool (along with M) so they could listen to us say our prayers.

The water is caught rain water but warmed to jacuzzi temperatures. When I stood in the water, it was level to my shoulders. I went first. You have to hold your arms out in front of you and nothing can touch when you immerse, I had to dink a few times to get it right. Because the water would have been over A's head, she stood backwards on a step and jumped out and then once she'd gone under, I'd catch her. It was so amazing to hear the men yell, 'amen' and to watch my rabbi's eyes fill with tears of pride. A is almost six and she'll remember this experience, the day we became as she describes 'super Jewish'.  I am now Carmela, daughter of Abraham and Sarah, a welcome member in the house of Israel.

Have you read this thin masterpiece? I wanted to read this book before my conversion, not knowing until I was done, how it would impact me. Taking my breath away as my heart shattered, each sentence evoking such raw emotion and pain. I truly wasn't certain I'd be able to turn the page, knowing the next word would be more horrific than the last. Unable to comprehend how this boy survived and understanding that he didn't.

Becoming a Jew: Month 7

It's the seventh month and lately, I've felt more connected to being a Jew. I'm certainly not more religious (I don't even know what that means) and my jury is still out about God. But last weekend, at the headstone unveiling for M's aunt in Connecticut, I felt a connection. I stood there listening to the mourner's kaddish and without understanding the actual words, I was moved and felt part of something even though I wasn't actually participating. There was something soulful about the Kohanim as he bowed and prayed. And this wasn't the first unveiling I've attended. Both of my in-laws have passed, as have other members of M's family; a sad reality of marrying someone older.

I'm still studying the Torah and the Jewish holidays as they occur during this year. A big part of my conversion is how I'll incorporate being a Jew into daily life. Each Friday that we're home, we light Shabbat candles and say the prayers and  we each say something we're grateful for. A's grateful for dessert, or some activity like going to the pool, while we adults try to be more thoughtful and spiritual. (Although maybe our girl has it right!)

We're trying to find a place in our budget, perhaps on a monthly basis, how we can afford pay to become members of the temple. Impossibly expensive, the cost is a thorn in our sides. Why does it have to cost so damn much? Even if we could afford the yearly membership, it doesn't stop there. Donations towards a new temple, tickets for the high holidays,the list goes on.  But I feel guilty for my free so far, conversion. No one has asked whether or not we're members. When I've talked to the membership director about joining, he doesn't use it as an opportunity to call or email, encouraging us to join.

The rabbi and I have begun to talk about my mikvah and also A's. She won't have to study; her requirement is that she can hold her breath under water. We've decided that she'll have her mikvah when I do. It should be interesting considering A believes she's Jewish and makes the distinction that I'm not yet. The questions and conversation that would occur should we tell her she's not really Jewish yet, oy! Interestingly, when/if A has a Bat Mitzvah, she'll be able to choose whether she wants to become a Jew or not. I like that. If you're not born into the faith, you're given the choice and the decision is yours, once you come of age (thirteen).

We'll need Hebrew names and the name we've chosen for A is beautiful.  For me, I want the choice to have meaning. My rabbi pulled down her name book and scrolling through the K's we came across Karmela which means vineyard. Karmela, yes. I like the name. It sounds Mediterranean to me and feels like an homage to my Sicilian roots. And it means vineyard. Wine is part of the Italian/Sicilian lifestyle, I like wine. This is good. It's a sexy name, intriguing even, don't you think?