Being the Jewish part of an interfaith family isn't without its challenges. Especially when, like me, being the Jewish influence in my family is because I converted after I was married.
"Winterfaith" seems a much more apt description for me than "interfaith." We're not observing two religions; I was raised Jewish, and my partner was not. Together, we are raising our children as Jewish campers, and even after 15+ years of our relationship, 11 of which with at least one child, the winter holidays are when our "interfaith" background proves to be the most challenging.
Finding ways to make the High Holidays meaningful for your child is an important way to nurture their Jewish identity. There are many ways to celebrate at home, like reading books, making crafts, or discussing what the holiday means to you and them.
In the weeks leading up to my civil divorce, I delved into Jewish tradition to see how I could mark it Jewishly. I'd been married under a chuppah with the exquisite blessings of our tradition; simply marking my divorce in the Cook County courthouse was not going to suffice.
Growing up, I saw Yizkor as a mysterious event on Yom Kippur afternoon. The grownups would return to temple in the afternoon, while my sister and I stayed home. There was no explanation, just an understanding that this was a thing our parents and grandparents did, and we did not.
Some label Rosh HaShanah and the period between the New Year and Yom Kippur as "Judgment Days," a time during which the trajectory of our lives for the coming year is reached.
Perhaps the act of gluing is a metaphor for tikkun olam, the act of repairing the world, which is central to our beliefs as Reform Jews. There are so many issues to ponder.
As we prepare for the High Holy Days, we engage in cheshbon hanefesh, an accounting of the soul. During the month of Elul, we look inward and reflect. This poem speaks to the possibilities of healing ourselves and our world.