New flicks with celebs in interfaith relationships and from interfaith backgrounds, plus their baby news!Go To Pop Culture
I think the Passover/Easter combination is more difficult than Hanukkah/Christmas. This is because Easter most always falls within Passover. Over the past few years, Sam has celebrated Easter with my family: joining us for mass, taking part in the Easter egg hunt, and sitting down with us for our giant ham dinner.
Two years ago, a few months into our relationship, I invited Sam over for Easter at my parent’s house. Not wanting to make a big fuss about his religion, I explained to my mom that Sam was Jewish. Mom told my sister, Michelle, who told my sister Carolyn, who told my brother Chris, and soon everyone knew that Sam was Jewish.
Sam and I attended Easter Sunday mass with the rest of the family. I spent the entire mass worrying about how uncomfortable Sam must have been. Later, he told me that he wasn’t uncomfortable at all. He had gone with me to previous masses at my parish in New Jersey, which helped acclimate him to the flow of the mass.
After mass we had our annual Easter egg hunt. My siblings and I have a tendency to make a mess searching for eggs, whereas, Sam was being very careful looking for his egg behind books and under boxes. Upon finding his egg, he realized that he couldn’t eat anything inside because the goodies weren’t kosher for Passover.
Easter dinner came around and my sisters bombarded Sam with “Why can’t you eat ham on Easter?” and “Are peeps kosher for Passover?” Sam fielded these questions like a champ! We had brought some kosher for Passover wine, but it had slipped my mind to tell everyone that it was specifically for Sam. The wine was poured and by the time the wine reached Sam, all the kosher for Passover wine was gone. We sat down to our usual Easter ham, rolls, corn, and potatoes. Thankfully my uncle brought over a small lamb. I think the only thing Sam ate that night was lamb and a potato.
Round Two. Last year, my mom and I worked really hard to make the entire meal kosher for Passover. I explained to her all the dietary restrictions. For the month leading up to Easter, I received calls with “Is this kosher for Passover?” or “Can Sam have that?” My mother experimented with matzo meal and potato starch for the first time in cooking all the Easter dishes and desserts.
During the Easter egg hunt, Sam had remembered some of the hiding places from the previous year and that was where he started looking. Once he found his egg, there were kosher for Passover macaroons inside!
My brother and father picked up some really good kosher for Passover wine which sparked some good conversations about keeping kosher. Dinner was served and my father said the prayers and then offered for Sam to say his blessing. Sam said the motzi in Hebrew and English. My dear old grandfather (who is hard of hearing) blurted out with “That’s not Catholic!” It was at this moment that we told my grandfather that Sam wasn’t Catholic. My dad responded with, “Yes, but everything he just said, you also believe in!” Since then Sam and my grandfather have had many conversations on religion, and have come to the conclusion that there is always more to talk about.
Looking back on last year, I think, making the entire meal kosher for Passover was too stressful for my mother. For Easter, a week ago, I provided the main course and desserts and gave my mom some specific sides to make.
Easter mass was very comfortable sitting alongside Sam and my family. After Mass, Sam even went up to the priest to talk to him. We have been meeting with this priest to plan our wedding ceremony, so he is getting to know Sam and I very well.
The infamous Easter egg hunt came around and after much searching Sam found his egg taped under the lampshade in replace of the light bulb! After an enjoyable egg hunt, dinner was served. Both my father and Sam said the blessing over the meal and everyone left pleasantly full. It took us three years, but I think we have finally found a routine in balancing Easter and Passover!
By Sam Goodman
Won’t you help to sing / These songs of freedom?
We’re currently in the middle of one of the most widely-observed Jewish holidays, Passover. One of the Shalosh Regalim, or three pilgrimage festivals (literally “three legs”), in ancient times Jews throughout the land of Israel would gather and make sacrifices at the Temple in Jerusalem. Passover celebrates the Exodus from Egypt, and is one of the few holidays mentioned in the Torah. In modern times, it is observed by abstaining from the consumption of items with leavening (e.g. bread, cake, beer), and with a festive meal on the first two evenings, which is called a seder.
When I was growing up, we would have the first night seder with extended family. Between grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and my nuclear family, there would be about fifteen of us crowded around the table, hearing Poppop recite the story of the Hebrews’ exodus from Egypt. It was always fun running around with the cousins, searching for the afikomen, and staying up way past our normal bedtimes. We still meet at my uncle’s place every year on the first night, and although lately we’ve had a couple faces missing from the table due to cousins living abroad, or away at college, usually at some point we would Skype them in. Also, as some of the older cousins have become involved in serious relationships, there have been new guests at the table – including, for the past three years, Anne.
The second night seder had a very different tone than the first night while I was growing up. My two sisters and I would each get to invite one friend, and beyond these three friends, it would just be our nuclear family at the table. We lived in an area that had very few Jews, so most of our school friends had never been to a seder before. At the beginning of this seder, we would start by explaining the symbols on the table – the matzah, different items on the seder plate, Elijah’s cup, etc. Diana, my youngest sister, would start the explanation; Stacey, the middle child, would add things that Diana had forgotten, and provide additional layers of meaning behind the symbols; and I would continue with the things both sisters had left out.
This year, we invited Anne’s parents and siblings to our second-night seder. As an added twist, my Dad had asked me a few weeks ago if I could lead our seder. My father, an accountant, was a *bit* exhausted by the night of the second seder, which fell this year on April 15th. After a few weeks of reviewing the haggadah and the Passover story, I had committed as much as I could to memory, and felt prepared for what was to come.
Anne and I arrived at my parents’ house around 5:30, about half an hour before the seder was to begin. I wanted some time to settle in, and do some last-minute reviewing of my notes and the biblical Exodus story. Thanks to some heavy traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway, I ended up having quite a bit of extra time – Anne’s brother Chris showed up around 6:15, and her parents and two youngest siblings didn’t arrive until nearly 7PM. After some brief greetings, we sat down at the table, and the seder began.
We began with my retelling the story of the Exodus, beginning with Joseph’s trials and tribulations, culminating in the arrival of the Hebrews in the Promised Land, and hitting all the major high points along the way. Unfortunately, due to my nerves, I ended up hitting many of the minor points as well, resulting in a retelling that felt as long as Cecil B DeMille’s epic film. In reality it was probably only 15 minutes, but it felt much longer. At least nobody could say I missed anything important!
After my retelling was complete, we began reading from the haggadah. After the first cup of wine, my nerves (finally!) began to ease up. We went popcorn-style around the table, each person reading a paragraph. As we reached the Four Questions, we broke our order and had Theresa, Anne’s youngest sibling, read them. We continued along, with Anne’s parents and siblings asking questions as we went. What foods do we “dip”, as mentioned in the Four Questions? What’s the egg for? Why is the shank bone, rather than another part of the lamb, used to symbolize Passover offering? Is that really a lamb’s shank bone, or just a chicken bone? When do we drink more wine? In some cases, the answers were literally on the next page of the haggadah, but I was able to field most other questions without significantly affecting the flow of the service.
Finally, it was time to eat the main meal. Anne had prepared eggplant dip, chopped liver, and potatoes, and my mom cooked up some beef brisket, chicken, and fruit kugel. Everything tasted delicious, though it certainly helped that we were having a very late dinner. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to go through the post-meal portion of the seder due to a confluence of the delayed start time and Anne’s youngest siblings’ bedtimes (the following day was a school day, after all).
I’m certainly in no rush to lead my next seder, a responsibility I hope continues to be held by my healthy father and grandfather for many years. However, it was a lot of fun studying the details of the seder and the Passover holiday while preparing to lead it. Also, I’m extremely grateful that Anne’s family is open to learning about the customs and holidays of my faith. While we certainly differ on quite a few theological matters, I appreciate that Anne’s parents are willing to join my family for holiday celebrations. It displays both a confidence in their beliefs and an acceptance of my ability to practice my faith.
On a completely unrelated note, I listened to this song on repeat while writing this blog.
Welcome back. If you remember from our introduction, our wedding date is November 8th of this year! It is 205 days away, but then again, who’s counting? 😉
If you know anything about a wedding, you know it takes careful time and preparation. That is not unique to an inter-faith wedding, but some of the things on the check list are approached with a different perspective.
Let’s start with the reception venue. The reception space is always one of the biggest items on anyone’s wedding check list. We went with a re-done barn, known as The Centennial Barn, which was built in 1898, but renovated in 2010 in order to host events. What is great about this space is that not only is it affordable, but the money spent here actually has a higher purpose. The money goes into the work of the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor. A few examples of the Sisters’ community work are to provide haircuts for the homeless, bring art into poverty stricken parts of the city and help young women to make better lives for themselves by helping them to get off the street. Helping others is a big part of who Lisa and I are as individuals and as a couple. Lisa spends many of her hours volunteering as a Merchandise Director for an amateur sports team here in Cincinnati. I work in the nonprofit sector, but also do community outreach mentoring. No matter what faith we fall into, helping others is a tenet for everyone. We didn’t realize reception site picking would end up being a faith-based decision!
The reception choice was easy, but the wedding ceremony would involve a lot more conversation and lot more faith discussions.
One thing to know about Lisa is that she is a grounded individual. She balances my often imaginative personality. We all have our desires as human beings, but Lisa tends to keep it realistic and much more achievable. If she wants something she tends to have fear about putting it out in the world. On the grounds of the Centennial Barn, there is a beautiful chapel, the St. Clare Chapel. When Lisa saw the Chapel, she wanted to get married there. It was comforting to her faith and she knew it would mean a lot to her every-Sunday-church-going family as well. However, we had decided to have a Rabbi marry us… Would the nuns be OK with this decision? Would our Rabbi be OK with this decision? I had to ask myself if I was OK with this decision.
It didn’t take much meditation though. I knew I was OK with it. I always want to provide for Lisa, even if it is just happiness. I knew from some interfaith classes I had attended that it was important to encourage one another’s faith, and getting married in the chapel was a way in which I could support Lisa. Plus, she had agreed to have a Rabbi marry us, which was more important to me than the venue.
The Chapel is not as easy as writing a check either. We needed approval from the Arch Bishop of Cincinnati. So here I was, a Jew, writing a letter to the Arch Bishop and the Nuns trying to convince them to let us get married in a chapel. The letter was not far off from this entry, but I knew at the end of the day that I simply could not buy the space and had to trust in G-d to show us that this space was for our big day. When I got the approval, the Head Sister (Nun) sat me down and said that they prayed (and she admitted–cried) for us because they were so touched by our story and our trust in G-d. We had our wedding day venues!
Welcome. Shalom. My name is Ryan Mount and I am a great story teller, but as far as writing goes, this is new ground. Ring-bear with me while I try to introduce myself. (Please excuse the How I Met Your Mother jokes and references; it has been a favorite of Lisa, my fiancé, and became a favorite of mine. I also tend to think I have a great How I Met Your Mother story, but that post is for another time.)
My name is Ryan and as you can see I am a terrible at telling jokes, a self-proclaimed great story teller, and I am getting married in November to my fiancé Lisa. This blog is hopefully going to be an adventure of how a Jewish kid born and raised on the east coast got mixed up with, fell in love with and is now planning an interfaith wedding with an Ohio native and soul mate, Lisa.
Lisa was born and raised in Toledo, Ohio (right outside of Detroit, which I mention because I never heard of Toledo, before I met Lisa). She has been a Cincinnati area native for 12-13 years and lived here her entire adult life. Lisa was raised in a tight knit Polish neighborhood by mainly her father and her extended family. She has an older sister who is seven years older than her who also happens to be getting re-married one month after our upcoming wedding. Overall, her family dynamic is much different than my own and it certainly brings up a lot of conversation during our wedding planning. Lisa went through 12 years of Catholic School and church was a strong part of her young life.
I was born and raised in a small suburb of New Jersey called Westampton, but if you ask me where I am from the answer is always, “Philly.” I come from an interfaith home where Dad was raised Catholic and Mom was raised Jewish, but neither practice. Christmas was always about Santa and Easter was always about the giant bunny. Jewish holidays stood as a staple of tradition, like Pesach/Passover, but no one kept kosher during it. We celebrated Hanukkah, which would end up growing to be one of the most important parts of my spiritual development as a Jew, but I would not come to realize that until much later. I have two sisters, one nine years younger, and one two-and-a-half years older. Somehow in the middle of all this non-practice growing up, I endured some personal hardships and continue to grow spiritually in the Jewish religion. I do not know if I classify myself as devout, but am a Friday night attendee of Temple and pray/meditate every day.
Who are we? (That is actually a sports chant Lisa and I both say every Tues/Thurs/Sun.) You see now we both live in Cincinnati, and initially met through the sport of Roller Derby. We are both skaters and each other’s coaches for our teams. I am a Jewish professional working for the Federation system and she works for a custom box making company in Northern Kentucky.
Our wedding date is November 8, 2014. This blog will explore more about our relationship, our upcoming wedding plans and the challenges it takes to make a true interfaith wedding. We are striving for something more than just a Jewish wedding in a chapel (which right now is actually the plan). It is not just about a merging of two faiths, but also two very different cultures meshing together and hoping for a lot of laughs and only tears of happiness. So again, welcome and shalom.
Last weekend we met with the caterer to finalize the menu and taste some of the dishes we had picked for our wedding. We decided a while ago that we would serve dinner ‘family style’ with large platters of each dish placed on each table, instead of individual plates or buffet. We choose to serve the meal this way for two main reasons: one is because we think it goes well with the aesthetic of our backyard themed wedding, and the other is simply because we don’t have room in the backyard for a buffet table.
Once we nailed down the manner in which we would serve the meal, picking the dishes proved a bit more challenging. Interestingly enough, the meeting with the caterer proved reminiscent of Chris’s post last week about how “Jewish” our wedding is going to be. The caterer was very sensitive to potential religious restrictions and was very upfront about all of the ingredients in each dish. While we are not serving a Kosher meal, we will have some guests who keep Kosher and want to make the meal accessible to those individuals. It would have been quite expensive to serve a fully Kosher meal so we decided we would serve a ‘Kosher style’ meal, meaning no shellfish, pork, or milk and meat together–likely disappointing Chris’s Uncle Bobby who had requested both scallops wrapped in bacon and escargot. Sorry Bobby!
After the serving style and food accommodations were decided it was time to choose the actual menu. This was the fun part! The caterer choose for us to taste a variety of appetizers including homemade hummus and baba ganoush with pita chips, a Caprese salad, beef satay, mini quiches, and roasted zucchini and summer squash. We loved them all and chose to serve each one. For the salad course we picked a spring salad with strawberries, goat cheese, and a pomegranate and blood orange dressing (my mouth is watering just thinking about this salad). For the main course we decided on two meat dishes–salmon with a spicy avocado sauce and chicken piccata–and green beans, wild rice, and a tortellini salad on the side. We were utterly pleased with each dish we tried and even more impressed with the effort the caterer showed us by serving Hamentashen for dessert! He also ordered fresh baked Challah from a bakery in Brookline that we will be serving on each table.
Now…all we can hope for is to actually get to eat some of it!
Just like all beginning relationships, I had plenty of questions. “Will he still like me if I eat three burgers for dinner?” “Will my parents and siblings like him?” “Will his parents and siblings like me?” “Will we get along with each other’s friends?” “Will he be ok with my Catholicism?” At first, these questions bugged me. I had doubts that the relationship wouldn’t last because we are so different. However, after talking it over with my friends, something clicked. Instead of focusing on the fact that we were different, I began to embrace it.
I started sharing my hobbies with Sam. When I was with Sam, I experienced things differently than when I was with my other friends. After going to the theater with my girlfriends, we would talk about the rehearsal process, technical elements, and cast and crew. Seeing the exact same show with Sam, we would talk about how we related to the characters and how the acting moved the story along. Sam also started sharing his love of concerts and brewing with me, and introduced me to Judaism.
I began going to synagogue with Sam a few months into our relationship, and it was confusing at first. The service was completely different from the Catholic Mass, and it didn’t help that I didn’t understand Hebrew. After attending a few more services with Sam, I started researching the holidays and cultures and began to find joy in the ways that the Jewish holidays could benefit me personally or spiritually. Creating a menu for Passover became an exciting search, between my friends and I, to experiment with different ingredients within the dietary restrictions mandated during the holiday.
Sam and I started turning activities into exciting adventures. Over the past two years we have attended numerous family holiday celebrations; the National Homebrew Conference, several beer festivals, numerous Synagogue events, Philadelphia Folk Festival, and other concerts; stewarded a mead (honey wine) competition; road tripped to Chicago (twice), Boston, and Minnesota; held a game marathon during the two-week black out of Super Storm Sandy; and celebrated a handful of friends’ interfaith/intercultural weddings.
So when did I know that Sam was the “one”? The answer is three-fold: