The big day arrives (or Try not to drown during your Mikvah)

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In my third and final article for the Convertsation, I pick up my story at the point where I have attended the high holidays as a non-Jewish guest,  previously attended a Taste of Judisim information session and ha e written to a Rabbi to formally ask him to to help me become a member of the Jewish people.

The rabbi was a charismatic and charming fellow,fiesty,educated with a love of westerns and telling stories which is a penchant  of many Rabbis. He helped me understand despite the halides, Orthodox,  conservative and many other types of Jews, many of which had distinctive theological and or philosophical differences.

“The only thing wrong with Judisim is that it has Jews in it and they always disagree.  But in the end when it comes down to being there for each other or for Israel,  we come together.”

He would lean foward,  his many colorful  rings gleaming on his fingers and with a Cheshire grin say “ask away,  anything”

I asked him about Jews I had seen and organizations I was curious about
I had recently seen on Television .

“Chha-bad” I asked

“Ha+bahd” he corrected me.

“my bahd” I thought but was not clever enough to actually say at the time.

I decided to ask him about the CEO of this and pretty much all religions God. I learned that there was a kind of ebb and flow for many Jews in thier relationship with God. As part of your experience of finding and knowing him you would have doubts and even  feel genuine  exsasperation with the holiest of father's . I was never allowed to have that sort of relationship with my Dad and as far as I know outside of making my allowance dissappear,  he ne er performed any miracles .

Apareently when it came to God,  even Rabbis got the blues.  My Rabbi used to like to tell the story of the old Rabbi who was notorious for being heard ranting, raving and pounding his fist in in his office. A newish employee concerned about the ruckus asked “what on earth is going on in there?”  An elder statesman in the office spoke up ” He’s fine, just having his daily conversation with God”

Apart from Mandatory meetings and teachings with a Rabbi, it is also required to do a lot of reading to understand  who and what you are signing up for. My Rabbi assigned me Jewish Literacy  by Rabbi Joseph  Telushkin, an excellent read that requires no parting of the Sea to make up for a lack of historical drama and conflict.

It kind of feels like the official crest of the Jewish people might be a dangling shoe for which everyone waits to fall to join the other one on the floor. You know the story, good times, many bad times and lots of exile and travel. It became clear that  I was joining a very tough people. On the day of my Mikvah my Rabbis son, acting as one of the Beit Din asked me, as is per the duty of a judge, if I understood that I was joining a group of people consistently blamed and persecuted throughout history and I pointed out that I was Mexican American which meant in this country I had experience being a scapegoat and disliked for irational reasons.

In the months that passed I became more comfortable at Temple and began attending life cycle events such as a Bar Mitzvah which was an intimate and joyful rite of passage to witness despite the gaudy and showey ones I read about advertised in various Jewish publications. Instead I saw a touching display of familial affection blended with time honored traditions that I am happy to say did not resemble the Cirque De Mitzvah  that I feared.

Now as the Summer  date of my official conversion approached  there were specific rituals that were to be performed.  As I understand it some Reform Temples  are not as demanding of some rituals  for conversion as others but my Rabbi while reform and liberal oriented, was old school about conversion  a fact that fhat I am actually grateful for in hindsight . I understand that rituals that seem steeped in little else other  than routine can feel quite empty but in the case of baptism/ conversion when there is genuine feeling about the  purpose and meaning of the transformation about to take place, that is where the beauty of ritual is fully realized and spread like wings.

This is not to say that ritual is without a small amount of challenge or awkwardness at times.  Case and point: Brit Milah which is Hebrew  for ritual circumcision,  a requirement for previously circumcised male converts. In English I think it means “So, how much do you REALLY want to be Jewish?” well, I really did because I can imagine no other circumstance in which I would stand in a small room with four other guys with my pants down while an unfortunately dull diabetic lancet was applied to my manhood to help collect and display as evidence the drop of blood that compleates the ritual. . If you were already circumcised then you know this experience gives new meaning to the old Hollywood saying “cut, take two”.  there is no other religion I would do this for, not that I have had any other offers.

As a California native (yes,  they really do exist)  I loved that the final step of my conversion, my Mikvah would take place at Zuma Beach in Malibu , a quiet beach some miles away from neighbouring Santa Monica. Accompanied by my beach ready Rabbi, the Beit Din, congregation members who act as judges and ask questions before you are allowed to convert, we gathered on a windswept overcast day.

Upon entering the ocean with the Rabbi I was to hear and repeat blessings and be submerged three times under the waves. Almost on cue  as we walked into the water  the weather suddenly turned nasty and placid waves began to double in size while a cold, biting wind starting  kicking up a fuss. Was this a bad sign or had I seen the Ten Commandments too many times?

As the sky began to darken we ventured deeper in to the waves despite the suddenly crazy change in the weather.  The wind kept knocking the Rabbi’s kippa off his head and our mouths routinely filled with the bitter alkaline taste of the sea as we were knocked to our knees several times by newly violent waves. It all seemed a little surreal.

We were however a determined bunch and held our ground, I repeated the prayers (which wound up kind of being shouted over the roar of the ocean)  was dunked three times and I was finaly Jewish! The Beit Din tried to warn me but how was I supposed to know my first hostile experience as a Jew would be against nature itself. Regardless, I felt very proud and happy.

I remember  laughing with the Rabbi about our ordeal in the ocean and he said “Its Gods way of reminding you it isn’t always easy being Jewish” Three more feet into the surf and I could have asked him personally what was on his mind .

I was given a pair of signed documents which act as proof of conversion,  one in English and one in Hebrew.
.  I also claimed Noah as my Hebrew name which I am not certain will ever come in handy but I like it none the less. I  still have a Snapple bottle containing the sand from that day and the date labelled across it.  It sits year round on a shelf it shares with a menorah I bought at that's so small I can never find candles for it.

As a Jewish convert you adopt and adapt, not just to a religion but a culture rich in its own foods,litrature, history and folklore but you may come to some things a bit too late like your Bar/ Bat Mitzvah . Technically I suppose I could still have one, as it is a relatively modern ritual not a commandment and I have learned some people do this as adults if they missed out as kids,  but personally,  apart from it feeling like a forced atempt at authenticity, the age appropriate gifts for a man my age who has not been thirteen for a long,long time might be items like a gift certificate for a prostate exam, a life insurance discount and a plastic surgery coupon. I think I will pass.

Post conversion there are many small but wonderfull things I have been able to enjoy, little things perhaps only a small child new to Hebrew school might appreciate such as learning a few ( and i mean just a few) greetings in Hebrew,learning how how to make a mean  Matzaball soup (Thank you Streits!), experiencing the meaning of the high holidays, being able  to say shabbat prayers without  mangling all the words or the order they come in. 

I know some of you will say that alone does not make you jewish, that those things are nice but somewhat superfivial but I would only half agree. Those things exist becasue they have meaning for Jews even today but in feeling them in your heart, wanting to make a connection to Jewish history and life, they become extrodinary.  If the very act of watching the candles for shabbat being lit in turn llluminates something within you then you have chosen Judisim as much as it has chosen you.  Perhaps there is a catchphrase  to be had in saying that converts to Judisim are truely the chosen,  chosen people.