Greater Boston

Welcome to InterfaithFamily/Boston...

... and the holiday season!

Winners have been chosen! Thanks to all who entered our Eight Candles and a Tree book raffle...May everyone enjoy this holiday season in whatever form it takes!

 

boston skyline in winter

A little about what we do: 

The InterfaithFamily network is a place for those in interfaith relationships—individuals, couples, families and their children—to engage in and explore Jewish life. We also work with professionals, organizations and groups in the Jewish community to encourage and promote interfaith acceptance, events and workshops. We hope that you find meaningful connections to Jewish life in your community and we’re here to help in any way we can.

We believe that open communication and education lead to understanding and that Jewish communities are enriched by diversity and a multitude of expressions and practices.

Partner Organizations of special interest to Boston interfaith couples and families:

Please tell the organizations and professionals that you contact that you heard about them on the InterfaithFamily Network. This work is supported by a generous grant from Comined Jewish Philanthropies of Boston (CJP).

Thank you!

All of us at InterfaithFamily/Boston would like to wish you and your family a wonderfully delightful, peaceful and healthy holiday season!


IFF/Boston Partner: Reform Jewish Outreach Boston

 

Reform Jewish Outreach Boston offers an extensive array of programs for interfaith couples and individuals exploring Judaism and Jewish life.

Here's what they're offering in the Winter 2014/2015:

  • A Taste of Judaism: An engaging class on Jewish sprirtuality, ethics and community, designed for beginners.  All faith backgrounds are welcome.  NO COST!
Boston, Temple Israel - Dec 8, 15, 22,  7:00 - 9:00 PM with Rabbi Amy Hertz
    Sharon, Temple Sinai - Jan 4, 11, 25 - 9:00 - 11:00 AM with Rabbi Julie Zupan
    Brookline, Temple Sinai - Feb 24, Mar 3, Mar 10 - 7:30-9:30 PM with Rabbi Andy Vogel
  • Yours, Mine & Ours: Strengthening Communication in Interfaith Relationships $150/couple.  Scholarships and payment options available!
Newton - Weekend of Jan 24-25, 10:00 AM - 5:00 PM

  • Introduction to Judaism: In depth course designed for indivuduals or couples wishing to explore Judaism, or considering becoming Jewish.  Interfaith couples are encouraged to enroll together.  $275/individual or $360/couple.  Scholarship and payment options available.
Brookline - beginning February 25th

Women's Voices, Women's Wisdom with Rabbi Beth Naditch
Meets on the third Wednesday of every month. How does our own life wisdom as modern women influence our understandings of traditional texts -- from familiar liturgy to little-known midrash? This....
October 15 2014 - May 20 2015
12:15 pm - 1:45 pm
1838 Washington Street
Newton, MA 02466

PJ Library Books and Blocks Weekly Drop-in Play
Join in a weekly drop-in playtime with PJ Library® at Ready, Set, Kids! A Family Enrichment Center (284 Broadway) in Arlington on Fridays, October 24 through April 2015 from 10-11:30am. Meet other....
October 24 2014 - April 24 2015
10:00 AM - 11:30 AM
Ready, Set, Kids! A Family Enrichment Center 284 Broadway
Arlington, MA 02474

Parenting Your Teen Through a Jewish Lens in Chestnut Hill
This eight-session program empowers parents of teens to embrace their changing roles, navigate murky waters and enjoy their adolescents’ journey to adulthood. Guided by a skilled facilitator,....
December 10 2014 - January 28 2015
7:30 PM - 9:00 PM
Congregation Mishkan Tefila 300 Hammond Pond Pkwy.
Chestnut Hill, MA 02467

From Kiddush to Kaddish – Jewish rituals for life transitions
Are you new to Jewish culture and traditions? Or would you like to know more about Jewish rituals and how they came to be? ....
December 11 2014 - January 22 2015
6:15 PM - 7:45 PM
18 Phillips St.
Boston, MA 02114

Shalom Nosh
Join us every week (at 6 p.m.) before our Friday Shabbat evening service (at 6:30 p.m.) for a nosh of light snacks and soft drinks so we can curb our hunger together as we transition from a busy week....
December 19 2014 - December 25 2015
6:00 PM - 6:30 PM
175 Temple Street
West Newton, MA 02465

JCC Kid's Choice December School Vacation Program
From sports and swimming to arts, dance, cooking and rock climbing, kids have their choice of activities at the JCC Kid's Choice December Vacation Program. Held at the Leventhal-Sidman JCC (333....
December 24 2014 - January 02 2015
9:00 am - 4:00 PM
333 Nahanton Street
Newton, MA 02459

Vacation Playdate
Join us for some fun in the TBS playroom! Get out of the house and enjoy some time with other families. ....
December 29 2014
10:00 AM - 12:00 pm
Temple Beth Shalom 489 Lowell St.
West Peabody, MA 01960

Adoption Choices
Social Services
Framingham, MA
01702 United States
1 Member
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

Affordable Hebrew School
School/Education
Ashland, MA
01721 United States
3 Members
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

B'nai Or of Boston
Synagogue
North Cambridge, MA
02140 United States
3 Members
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

Beth El Temple Center
Synagogue
Belmont, MA
02478 United States
4 Members
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

BIMA at Brandeis University
Camp - Overnight Camp, Specialty Camp
Waltham, MA
02454 United States
2 Members
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

Bnot Torah (Daughters of Torah)
School/Education
Lexington, MA
02421 United States
1 Member
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

Boston Workmen's Circle
Arts & Culture -
Brookline, MA
02445 United States
10 Members
Greater Boston

Public
This is an Organization

Blogs

Greater Boston
Subject
Author Date
 
Rabbi Jillian Cameron 12-11-14

Hanukkah lights

When I was very small, my family used to light our Hanukkah menorah alongside our decorated Christmas tree. Christmas was never a religious holiday for us but we decorated and listened to Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby and my mother filled stockings with our names on them with precious goodies.  I was one of those obnoxious kids who bragged about getting Christmas presents AND Hanukkah presents! But when our family decided to join a synagogue we decided to formally end Christmas in our home. For my younger sister and I, this meant no more tree, no more decorations around our house, no more snowy Snoopy musical figurine spinning slowly, singing carols and certainly no more bragging rights. But we were young and we adapted…for the most part. But a few traditions were harder to let go of than others.

My sister happened to be very attached to the shiny twinkly lights of Christmas and one year, she badgered my parents as the holiday season began about hanging Christmas lights. But they had made a choice for our family and stuck with it: We were Jewish, so no Christmas. But could there be a compromise? As it turns out, there was, in the form of a string of Hanukkah lights.

My sister happily draped these lights all over her room and even came up with the cleverest of names. They were her “Israel-lights.” Interfaith pun extraordinaire.

Jillian's Christmas StockingMy mom always loved to seek out all the fun little trinkets to stuff into our stockings and so she continued to do so, every year, without fail. When each of us were first born, she had gone to a craft fair and bought us beautiful hand knit stockings and had sewn our names on them herself. One year we were in Switzerland on vacation over Christmas. My sister and I were convinced that the stockings must have stayed home, but lo and behold, Christmas morning, they magically appeared, full of Swiss treats. I also assumed that once I began studying to be a rabbi, perhaps my stocking days would be over, but I should have known to never underestimate my mom. My first year of rabbinical school I was living in Jerusalem and my parents came to visit me at the end of the first semester in December and what was packed in my mom’s suitcase? You guessed it! My stocking, filled with treats from home. I’m pretty sure I am the only rabbi out there who gets a Christmas stocking every year (though if that’s not the case, by all means let me know in the comments!).

I could argue that this particular family tradition says more about my incredible mother than anything else, but it’s also just a practical reminder that families and traditions are ever evolving and adapting.

My family made it work because my very smart parents stuck to their guns but also allowed for our family to make these sort of meaningful compromises. I don’t really remember that much about our transition from a house with a Christmas tree to a house without, but I do remember vividly the Israel-lights and I am still very excited each year to get my stocking. There is no one right way to celebrate holidays or life events—just find a way that feels authentic to the choices you have made in your family’s life. I remember the holiday seasons of my childhood with joy and fondness rather than strife because I was taught that we could always find a way to celebrate who we were and who we had become.


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Jessie Boatright 11-13-14

Family of snowmenLast year, Hanukkah came early (remember that once in every 77,000 years Thanksgivukkah Celebration?). Back then, I blogged about how the early Hanukkah was a special gift for interfaith families, allowing those of us who are a union of Christian and Jewish traditions to more easily separate the December holidays and focus on each individually.

This year is a bit more typical, with Hanukkah starting on December 16 and ending on Christmas Eve. With six weeks to go before we dust off the Hanukkiah (Hanukkah menorah), I think we have just enough time to keep December from being a dilemma. Like many things in parenting, and life, your best chance to make this happen is to start planning now.

The December holidays are a wonderful time. The lights, be they candles in our windows or lights around our trees, are beautiful. The music is joyful, and the food is both plentiful and sweet. Families and friends are together in celebration, filling homes, street corners and hearts with love and togetherness. The themes of our holidays remind us about some of religion’s most important lessons – faith, hope and the potential for miracles.

The December holidays can also be challenging. Expectations are high, and as parents we are often harried in our attempts to make magic for our children. Feelings of loss sting a bit more strongly for those of us missing a loved one, or out-of-touch with someone with whom we’d like to be in touch. With Christmas movies at the box office and schoolyard chatter a flurry with talk of gifts to be received, there can be a special tension for those of us whose families try to integrate multiple traditions.

I imagine that even if you and your spouse grew up next door to one another, going to the same house of worship and marrying after a long high school courtship, you can find yourselves mismatched in your expectations for December. For interfaith couples of any stripe, these mismatched expectations can be amplified. And for parents for whom being of different faiths doesn’t feel like a big deal from January to November, December puts their different backgrounds front and center. Even if you stand firmly grounded in your personal choices about religion, your kids are bound to throw you off base with a question about why you do or don’t do the same thing as another family they know.

Today, I would like to advocate that you make a plan. It does not need to take up all of November, but better an hour of planning in November than four hours of frustration in December. Here is what I propose.

Buy a bottle of wine. Or better yet, call a sitter. Carve out an hour of time with your partner to talk about what your Hanukkah through Boxing Day calendar will look like, and what you’d like it to be. If you’re not sure, look around your community or online for articles, classes or friends who can help you plan to make the time a period of fun, giving, relaxation and maybe even a little learning.

Some questions that I have seen come up for our family and others during this time, in case you don’t know where to start:

  1. Do we want to exchange gifts? For both Hanukkah and Christmas, or only for one?

  2. How important is it that we light the menorah for eight nights? If the answer to this means you’ll need to have a menorah in multiple locations or on a destination vacation, how will that happen?

  3. Do we feel strongly about what grandmas and grandpas give (or don’t give) to our kids?

  4. How do we want to talk to our kids about Santa Claus? What about the Christmas tree that we do (or don’t) have?

  5. How would you like to talk with your children to help them understand your choices in relation to the choices of their cousins’ families? Their friends’ families?

  6. And most important, of course, what do you want to get out of this holiday season for yourself, and how will you make it happen?

Do that, and then call your own parents. Talk to them about what they hope for, and share what your own hopes are. If you can’t do that, at least share your feelings with whomever will help make the holiday spirit bright for your family.

And then have fun. Eradicate the dilemma from your December, and bring on the holiday cheer. And let me know how it all works out.


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 11-13-14

Friends showing gratitudeI’ve been seeing a lot of trends on Facebook over the past few months surrounding gratitude and if I’m honest, they mostly make me roll my eyes. I’m all for gratitude but these posts more often than not seem contrived and part of a fad rather than a real look at gratitude. That being said, it’s a much better fad than the latest reality show or diet. Especially during the month of November, when we are asked to think about gratitude and of course have a holiday approaching devoted to this notion. But are we just paying lip service to this yearly concept or do we actually feel a real sense of thanksgiving as we sit around our Thanksgiving tables?

There is something so special about genuinely expressing gratitude. It seems to lighten my soul and give me a much-needed sense of perspective amidst the chaos of daily life. When I really see all that I have, all that I am privileged to do, I am less stressed, I smile more, I treat those around me better. But sometimes that chaos is overwhelming and I don’t remember to take the time to see all that I have.

Much like the lone Mitzvah Day which takes place once a year in many synagogues, this single day of Thanksgiving does give us the opportunity to put a spotlight on our gratitude, but what about the next day (*shudder* Black Friday) or the next month? (For the record, a fantastic antidote to Black Friday is Giving Tuesday, and InterfaithFamily would love to see your gratitude on Dec. 2.) And once we have gone around the table and said what we are thankful for, do we do anything more with it or is the ritual of stating it enough?

Here at InterfaithFamily, we have dedicated the month of November to our InterfaithFamily Shabbat and have themed it, “30 Days of Abundant Appreciation.” Our goal was to have communities all over the country, in whatever way they choose, express appreciation and gratitude for the interfaith families in their midst (see which organizations are participating in Boston here). As you might imagine, this takes many forms depending on the community and its makeup.  But no matter the form, the message is incredibly important. For how often do we really take the time to appreciate those in our communities who might feel on the periphery? How often do we simply acknowledge the diverse composition of our communities and celebrate it?

But here’s the big question, yet again: How do we keep it going? How do we continue to be appreciative and take those moments out of our day to feel a sense of personal gratitude for all that we have? How do we do it in a ways that feel authentic and not hokey? And in our communities, how do we do the same thing, whether for the interfaith families among us or just simply for belonging to a warm and open community?

I would love to hear your thoughts on gratitude. How can we be reminded in our own lives and in our many communities? Let’s come up with some ideas together!


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Rabbi Ari Moffic 11-07-14

The other day I saw a rabbi I know post a YouTube link to one of my favorite versions of the prayer, Hashkiveinu. Hashkiveinu is one word in English but means, “Grant that we may lie down” in Hebrew. In Hebrew, prefixes and suffixes are attached to the word. It is a petitionary prayer to be able to lie down in peace at night and to return to renewed life the following day.

Rabbi Rothman

Rabbi Murray I. Rothman

The link on Facebook to the video caught my eye for two reasons: As I said, I love this musical rendition of this prayer. Also, this rabbi serves the congregation where I grew up, Temple Shalom of Newton, MA.

What does it mean to grow up at a synagogue? For me, I had heard stories from my dad about how his parents were among the earliest members. My dad had his Bar Mitzvah at this synagogue. I was named as an infant there. The senior rabbi at the time, Murray I. Rothman, of blessed memory, got my family through a horrendous time when my mother was struck by a car crossing the street in front of our house. My little brother was 1, my middle brother was 3 and I was a kindergartner. My mother could not get up the stairs of our house for almost a year. She was bedridden on a couch in our den. My father somehow managed the three of us. Neighbors and family came to the rescue. And Rabbi Rothman came to that den every Friday afternoon with a challah and a Torah commentary and studied a little Torah with my mom. This kept her going spiritually and emotionally.

What does it mean to grow up at a synagogue? I knew the halls of that place. I knew the smells, the classrooms, the chapel, the sanctuary, the bathrooms, the youth lounge, the social hall—I knew the building. My confirmation class photograph is on the wall there. In fact, I sat in the Rabbi’s study on more than one occasion philosophizing about God and Judaism (true, I was into this stuff, even as a kid). I felt at home there. I slept there in a sleeping bag on the floor as a teenager at a “shul-in.” I remember the Temple Shalom sukkah in detail even though the last time I helped decorate one was at least 20 years ago. I can still feel the pride I felt praying with my family in the sanctuary on the High Holidays, wearing my new dress. I can see my brothers as I write this, quietly folding the flyers and tickets into origami to keep occupied during the services.

Temple Shalom of Newton

Some say bricks and mortar don’t matter. Buildings are passé. We’ve got coffee houses now. Millennials don’t want to walk into synagogues. Too many barriers. A building fund is too onerous for members to carry. What’s important are the people. The community. This is also true. But, I loved that building and it went through changes and renovations and has a life of its own. I think one reason I felt so connected to the building was that I could walk there from my house. That is how we got to and from Hebrew School. It is rare today for kids to walk places by themselves (at least not as young as we used to). I loved that independence, and going to a place I felt was totally safe and mine.

What does it mean to grow up at a synagogue? It means you know the people. We knew the people who worked in the office, the maintenance crew, the teachers, the educators and the rabbis. These were the people who lived in the temple as far as I was concerned. They were the familiar faces who knew us by name. They were welcoming and warm. They kept the temple going. And, my friends were there. We came together from multiple public schools. We grew up there together. We came to one another’s Bar and Bat Mitzvah services. We had our parties in the synagogue social hall. My parents knew the other parents and the kids.

I learned to read Hebrew there. I may not have known how to translate each word into English but I learned to read the Hebrew prayers in Hebrew fluently by about fifth grade. I kept the old blue Gates of Prayer Book—the Reform Movement’s prayer book—on my nightstand growing up, which I received from Temple Shalom. A nameplate was placed in it for me at my Bat Mitzvah. I read the prayers to myself at night and they were a source of comfort.

My parents have now moved to Philadelphia to be near my little brother’s family. We have no ties to this building anymore. We don’t know many people who still go there. Yet, all these years later, when I see a Facebook post from Temple Shalom, it catches my eye. It makes me smile to see the new life that is there now. It is a part of me.

I marry lots of people who “grew up at an area congregation” but they left after their Bar or Bat Mitzvah. Maybe they have great and deep memories of being there. Maybe they barely remember their time there.

The only way one feels a sense of growing up in a synagogue is if you are there a lot and get really involved. I am thankful this was the case for me and my family growing up. It’s never too late to go back. It’s never too late to try a new congregation. Interfaith families are welcome at congregations, often with wide open arms.

Look through our listings for congregations that explicitly welcome interfaith couples and families, and check out this list of organizations hosting InterfaithFamily Shabbat events this month!


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Jessie Boatright 11-01-14

Bagels and cream cheeseMy memories of religious school are pretty varied. I remember visiting the sanctuary in first or second grade, a room whose enormity overwhelmed me, watching a few old men daven in the corner while our teacher pointed out the ark and the eternal light. I remember great conversations in our Jewish Studies sessions in later elementary school, reading coming-of-age stories about Jewish children and discussing them together. I remember lots of bagel cafe sessions, too many, if I recall, designed to drill down on how to order cream cheese in Hebrew.

I also remember a few teachers who seemed old-fashioned and way too strict. I remember some social dynamics between middle school students that hardly seemed to reflect the Jewish values we were learning in class. I remember some unfortunately contentious conversations during Confirmation class with a rabbi who didn’t seem to understand us teenagers. Like my secular school experience, there were things I liked, and things I didn’t. When all was said and done, I think I would say religious school was important, and I learned things that have stuck with me. There were people and things I loved about it, but I am not so sure I would ever say I loved it.

We are only two months in, but Ruthie loves Sunday School. I didn’t expect that. I hoped she’d like it. I hoped she’d learn some things that would stick with her. The big surprise of this school year is less about her Monday-Friday school experience, and more about how much she loves Sunday School.

There are a few reasons why Sunday School had a step-up in the likeability scale before she even started. She has a Sunday School best friend, who she met last spring, who not only clicks with her beautifully but even shares her name (another Ruthie!). Unlike many of her peers, Ruthie started in public school in pre-kindergarten, so her Monday-Friday school is old hat, but this is her first year in Sunday School, so there is a shiny newness to it.  And Sunday School is something that only Ruthie does – Chaya isn’t old enough for it, so her Sunday morning obligation also solidifies her position as a more mature sister.

But that alone isn’t enough to create love. I give the majority of the credit to the reality that her Sunday School is loveable. The temple where we are sending Ruthie is one of many where I have seen a commitment to make religious school awesome, recognizing that a lot of the parents dropping off kids on Sunday morning did not love Sunday School.  The curriculum is varied and current. Once the kindergarten crafts are done, Ruthie’s class engages in Hebrew Yoga to connect themselves to Jewish concepts and spirituality. Learning about Torah is so fun that we have overheard Ruthie bragging to her non-religious friends about how cool it is that she is learning about it.

A friend with older kids assured me that Ruthie’s love is likely to wane, that I can expect an adolescent girl at some point that I’ll have to drag to temple on Sunday morning. I don’t doubt that that may lay ahead. But for now, Ruthie loves Sunday School, and it is a pretty great gift.


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Jane Larkin 10-22-14

Registration for many Jewish overnight camps began in Oct. Don't wait until the spring to sign-up your camper.

While many people have apple cider and pumpkins, and maybe even turkey and holiday gifts on their mind, I’m thinking about camp. Part of why I have camp on the brain is that I just watched the American Camp Association’s 2009 video “Because of Camp.” My overnight camp posted it on Facebook.

How I, a die-hard former camper and lover of all things camp, did not see this video previously escapes me. It features celebrities, athletes and journalists speaking about how camp changed their lives. It made me reflect on how camp helped me realize that I was a good athlete even though I was always the smallest girl on the court or field.

It also made me think about how summer camp is affecting my son Sammy. He is discovering new passions and broadening his horizons, learning life skills and independence. Because his camp is Jewish, he is also deepening his connection to the Jewish people, and experiencing Judaism in ways that are often more relevant to him than religious school, services or home ritual.

The other reason I have camp on my mind is because it’s registration season. Many Jewish camps open enrollment following Yom Kippur and offer early birds discounts. I signed up Sammy three weeks ago and paid a discounted rate. Now is also the period to investigate and apply for camp scholarships if this is a consideration.

If you or your children still have questions about camp, the fall and winter are the seasons to get answers. Check out camp videos online; attend a camp presentation at a synagogue, school, community center or private home, or schedule a meeting with the camp director when he or she visits your area.

Another reason that the time is right to think about camp is that between the fall and early spring, some camps invite existing and potential campers to camp for youth retreats. For first-time campers, these weekends are a chance to experience camp to see if they like it or are ready to be away from home. For returning campers, they are a great opportunity to reconnect with friends and make new ones before the summer. Sammy will be going to his camp for a retreat in early November, and he can’t wait.

It sounds counter-intuitive, but sweater weather is really the best time to think about camp. June, July and August are great months to see camps fully operational, but apple season is when you should make your children’s summer plans. To help you in your planning, refer to these InterfaithFamily resources:

Don’t let the fall leaves and crisp air fool you. Now is the time to “think camp.” You and your kids will be glad you did.

 


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 10-14-14

Topsfield FairI spent a recent autumn Sunday at the Topsfield Fair, in Topsfield, MA. I was expecting a day of food and rides and perhaps a huge pumpkin or two. I didn’t expect to gain a bit of perspective on diversity. As it happens, I got both.

The road to my grandparent’s house seemed never-ending, over many rivers and through several woods we drove. But, when we got off Interstate 95 onto Route 1, I knew we were close. No matter what time of year, this smaller two-lane road was beautiful. In the spring, the trees were just starting to bud and the colors in the fall were spectacular. Every time we drove to my grandparent’s house for a visit, I would feel the excitement in my stomach while driving along Route 1. And every time we made this four-hour journey, we would pass the Topsfield Fair grounds as we edged closer to Ipswich. And every time we passed the Topsfield Fair grounds, it seemed that the fair would be coming up soon or had just ended. I missed it every time.

So when I moved to Boston earlier this year and the trek to visit my family was a mere 30 minutes rather than four hours, I passed the fairgrounds many times and decided that finally, after decades of being deprived of the experience, I was going to the Topsfield Fair.

Giant pumpkinThe Topsfield Fair has been in existence since 1818 and was and remains today an experience in Americana. I saw a gigantic pumpkin and award-winning vegetables, huge and wacky looking chickens, pig races and a petting zoo. I played carnival games that looked like they were from a bygone era and watched someone deep fry butter. I marveled at beautiful quilts and some lovely local photography and was amazed at the sheer volume and variety of food, everywhere. I was especially delighted by the B’nai Brith food tent offering everything from matzah ball soup and homemade noodle kugel to potato pancakes and hot dogs! I sipped on perfect apple cider and just walked around finally enjoying my Topsfield Fair experience.

Beyond all of the fair offerings, I was taken by the diversity of fair goers. Every type of person went to the fair, every ethnic groups and socio-economic levels, young and old, those with disabilities, first timers and seasoned veterans, locals and transplants and everything in between. Not only was the fair a true slice of home grown Americana but the people who populated the fair seemed to be a true representation of America in all of her diverse glory.

Bnai Brith

Welcome to America. This is who we are. This lovely quaint fair reminiscent of that bygone era is the melting pot, a place for fun and family but more important, a representation of how we all somehow fit together.

Whether interfaith or intercultural, whether you scarfed down that kosher hot dog or tried some chocolate covered bacon in the booth next door, the things that bring us together far outweigh those that make us different and it turns out, everyone loves a fair. What an unexpected pleasure to encounter this reality that we all live amongst but rarely get to truly admire. Our diversity is what makes us strong, what makes us interesting, what makes us, us.


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 10-02-14

Parenting through a Jewish lens

It seems these days that we are faced with more and more choices, whether in our personal or professional lives, whether at home or in public, whether small and inconsequential or life-changing. When choosing to raise a family, we now face more options and possibilities than any generation before us, from the most basic concerns of health and welfare to the more complex concerning character and values. Wading through a multitude of options is no easy task for any parent or grandparent or guardian. Add the even more complex decision-making process that interfaith couples and families face and the task of parenting and raising children seems even more daunting.

Have you ever asked yourself these questions?

How do I infuse Judaism into the lives of my children when I struggle with how it fits into my own life?

How do I teach my child Jewish values, when I’m not sure what they are?

How do I ensure that my co-parent who isn’t Jewish, feels comfortable and included?

How do I even begin to talk about God with my child?

How can I help my children become good people and help make the world a better place?

If you’ve asked yourself or your partner any of these or similar questions, you are certainly not alone and you have already begun to delve into the complexities of being a modern parent.

In the Greater Boston area, we are lucky to have an organization and an amazing group of experts who have come together to help all types of couples and parents to answer these questions and figure out their parenting choices through a Jewish lens. Hebrew College, an independent seminary, and the Combined Jewish Philanthropies of Greater Boston (CJP), has created an incredible 10-week course called, Parenting Through a Jewish Lens. This class will help participants explore core values that can strengthen your family, learn with expert instructors who understand your concerns as a parent and enjoy rich conversations with other parents on topics that matter.

Partners from different faith and cultural backgrounds will explore Jewish wisdom that can profoundly enrich yourselves and the loving families you have created. What a great opportunity to create a parenting community and have a space to learn and voice your own fears, joys and questions!

This year, InterfaithFamily and Reform Jewish Outreach Boston has joined up with Hebrew College to create a Parenting Through a Jewish Lens class that is geared specifically toward interfaith families. While so many parenting concerns and questions transcend religious affiliation, we wanted to help create a safe space for interfaith couples to share their own stories, learn from one another and our wonderful teacher and facilitator, Rabbi Julie Zupan.

 
If you are a parent or almost a parent and you are looking for some answers to those big questions or just want to feel part of a supportive community, here are the details:

Parenting Through a Jewish Lens

Where:  Hebrew College, Newton

When: Starting November 6, 2014, meets Thursdays, 7:30 – 9 p.m.

Cost (scholarships are available!): Individual: $145, Couple: $240

For more information or to sign up, click HERE!

If you have any other questions or just want to chat about something on your mind, please don’t hesitate to be in touch with me, Rabbi Jillian Cameron, Director of InterfaithFamily/Boston: jillianc@interfaithfamily.comor 617-581-6857. I look forward to hearing from you!


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Jessie Boatright 09-29-14

Our Seder Table

By now hopefully you’ve had a moment to read about Jane Larkin’s Rosh Hashanah parties, which I plan to crash if I am ever in Texas for the Jewish New Year. This year my family started a new Rosh Hashanah tradition, too, although we hardly invented it; it was just new to us. At a family program at Ruthie’s Sunday School, the Rabbi taught us about the Sephardic tradition of the Rosh Hashanah Seder (which you can read about here on InterfaithFamily). I had never heard about this tradition, but figured it was worth a whirl. It was not only fun, but it brought with it a great chance to explore our hopes for the New Year in a new way. And it had the added bonus of being a very tasty addition to the celebration, as well.

The Rosh Hashanah seder is a seder of word plays, so the order is a series of foods that you eat, each of which has a word play that expresses our hopes for the New Year. For example, the Hebrew, or Aramaic, word for beet is related to the Hebrew word for beat, so when we eat it we can think about beating our swords into plowshares, or beating a path to free ourselves from our enemies. They are word plays that force a chuckle or a smile but also beautifully represent hopes for a sweet, peaceful and fulfilling year.

The spirit of the Rosh Hashanah seder is lovely, and the eats are good (more details on what we ate at the end of this piece). But it also offered something else to my family. As a parent of young kids, it is hard to find space to connect to the holiday. I derive joy and spiritual connection from watching my girls discover their Judaism, but sometimes it is hard to find time to remember my own Judaism. My time in the synagogue is a mix of reading, reflection, and making sure Chaya is coloring only on her coloring sheet, and not the synagogue furniture. The chance to extend the day’s observance to the intimate setting of our own home, where my kids can vacillate between the table and playspace, gives us all another inlet for observance. So our first Rosh Hashanah seder was a wonderful addition, and hopefully the first of many.

And in case this all sounds nice, but like too much to coordinate, here’s a shortcut to our seder:

We used the Sixth & I Historic synagogue seder book, which can be downloaded here (IFF’s Benjamin Maron also recommends another book in this 2012 article).

Here’s what we ate:

  • Dates straight out of the container. These were Chaya’s first dates, and she loved them, so I’d suggested getting them without pits to prepare for 2-year-old-date-inhalation.
  • Pomegranate straight from the fruit, although our Rabbi had the chocolate-covered ones, which would be a big time saver in a pinch.
  • Seasoned-oven crispy black-eyed peas (These might be my new favorite discovery!)
  • A short-cut on the pumpkin: pumpkin-shaped candy corn
  • Beetroot crisps
  • A head of lettuce instead of a fish head
  • Dangerously quick and easy scallion pancakes (substitute leeks for scallions)
  • Apples, honey, round challah and sparkling grape juice, of course

L’Shanah Tovah!


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 08-29-14
Jillian

Jillian (right) with her cousins and grandmother in Ipswich, MA.

Growing up, I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about what I ate. One of my parents and then a housekeeper for a while, used to cook dinner for me and made my lunch to take to school. We didn’t keep any sense of kosher; I didn’t really understand what kashrut was until I was much older. My parents attempted to instill the values of healthy eating, feeding us fresh produce, buying food from whatever farms existed in suburban New Jersey, but beyond the health aspects, we never really discussed food in any other way.

As I grew older, I was confronted with a variety of food ethics, whether cultural, religious or health related. As I spent time thinking about the food choices I make now, I realized that the decisions I make about most aspects of my life reflect how I think, how I was raised, my cultural context and my values. As a child of an interfaith marriage, there was always a combining of cultures in our household, from the most mundane of details to the most controversial. Whenever two people combine their lives and create a family even if they seem incredibly similar on the surface, there is bound to be a certain amount of combining (usually preceded by a hefty degree of compromise).

But my parents were not only intermarried in terms of their religious backgrounds, but my mother was from high treif (non-kosher) land, New England, and my father’s family was old Jewish Bronx (brisket, anyone?). Some of my fondest food memories are when we visited my mom’s family in Ipswich, MA: fried clams, steamers, lobster rolls, scallops, you name the seafood, we ate it, and we ate it joyfully. Since I did not live near my mom’s family and was being raised as a Jew, the love of seafood represented my connection with them. I thought about giving it up over the years, as I had given up pork, but those family moments, those points of connection always prevented me. I studied and contemplated and struggled with my decision because I wanted to maintain my own sense of integrity in who I am and what my title represents. But even as a rabbi, as a leader and example in the Jewish community, I long ago decided that having a connection to my family, being able to sit with them and break bread (and lobster claws) was more important than keeping kosher. And I have never once regretted it.

We live in a world of abundant choices and options and as our community grows ever more diverse, we will only continue to face these types of decisions. There is no one right answer, it’s up to each of us to take the time, do the work and decide how we want to live our lives.


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 08-29-14

TBE shabbat dinnerOne of the many lovely things about being a rabbi is you tend to know many other rabbis and when you move to a new place, inevitably you’ve probably got a few colleagues already there, happy to help you create a sense of community. I moved to the Boston area about a month ago and even before I arrived, I had a Shabbat dinner invitation waiting for me. There is a whole culture around Shabbat dinner and depending on how you define yourself, where you live and how you were raised, a good Shabbat dinner can sometimes trump any other Shabbat ritual. Shabbat dinner is about delicious food and wine, good company, long meandering conversation and hopefully the start to a restful weekend after a long week.

Despite the wide variety of Shabbat dinner traditions across the world, there are two constants: One, the most obvious, is the day of the week—Friday—night and two, the most important, connecting with other people.

So I drove a bit nervously to my Shabbat dinner invitation, wondering how the evening would go. This particular Shabbat dinner was sponsored by a ‘20s and ‘30s group from Temple Beth Elohim in Wellesley, MA, and I was told that there was going to be a big turnout. While you might imagine my comfort level to perhaps be a bit higher than the average Shabbat dinner attendee because I am a rabbi, I believe it is human to be a tad anxious about any new social situation. I wasn’t concerned about knowing the prayers but I was curious about who would be there and what kind of community this would be. Amidst my nerves I was also excited to meet new people, to hear new stories and to feel a part of something bigger than me on Shabbat.

I parked my car, walked to the backyard and the fear and anxiety faded as I was warmly welcomed by some I knew, some I had never met. I met newly married couples, recent college graduates, graduate students, teachers and doctors who all came from very different backgrounds. Some grew up with weekly Shabbat meals with their families, some had never really attended one before. Some diners were synagogue members, some were newly Jewish, some were in love with Jews and some were rabbis! And we all came together on this Friday night and laughed and drank and ate and created our own little community. This Shabbat dinner was a great equalizer for all there because it was shaped by those in attendance, by all of the things that made us unique and all of the things that brought us together. What a wonderful and peaceful way to end the week!

Have you had a particular memorable Shabbat dinner? How do you come together with friends and family to find peace in your life?


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Jessie Boatright 08-29-14

Happy Labor Day weekend!  Every year, I anticipate Labor Day weekend with both a smile and a bittersweet taste in my mouth.  It always brings some kind of fun celebration, but in so doing it marks the end of summer (a particularly big deal for those of us who live in New England).  Unlike last year, when the Jewish New Year collided with the start of the school year, we still have a few weeks to go before Rosh Hashanah.  But for parents of school-aged children, Labor Day marks a transition into another kind of new year.  A new year of earlier school day wake-ups, school uniforms to keep clean, and new groups of teachers, parents and children to get to know.

We have had a lot of fun this summer.  It was Ruthie’s first summer at real “big kid” day camp, and a huge developmental period for Chaya.  We had a great vacation in Maine, and a lot of weekend adventures.  We made wonderful memories with family and friends.

As I prepare to for this last summer weekend, I thought I’d take a moment to count some of the blessings of the summer, and think about how I might carry them into the next three seasons.  Here are some things I’ll remember:

  1. Every once in a while, its okay to stay up late to sit around the campfire, or run around like crazy monkeys with a gaggle of cousins.
  2. Every once in a while, it is good to go to bed early to make up for the late nights.
  3. Try not to sweat the sand in the bottom of the backpack.  It is a measure of how great the day has been.  And as long as you are careful it won’t ruin your plumbing.
  4. Similarly, relish the mud on your face.  Cake some more on, while you are at it.
  5. Never underestimate the power of a breath of fresh air.
  6. Don’t let the rain scare you from going outside.
  7. Every nook and cranny can be a stage for singing “Let It Go,” as long as you have a vision for it.

Those are a few of the gifts from our summer.  What are yours?


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Jessie Boatright 08-21-14

The night before I left for my family vacation, I paid a shiva call to a friend who had just lost her sister.  In the middle of my visit, a rabbi friend-of-the-family led those present through the first night’s shiva minyan.  Before we began the Mourner’s Kaddish, the rabbi explained that this night was a very special Shabbat.  It was Shabbat Nachamu, the Shabbat of Consolation.  After the somber observance of Tisha B’Av, Shabbat Nachamu begins seven weeks of consolation, of shifting from mourning to comfort as we clear our minds and prepare for the New Year.  It was a beautiful frame to put around this heartbreaking time, and gave those of us present a sense of purpose in being with my friend’s family in that moment.  It also fortified me as I prepared for my annual trip to the Maine lakes, a trip that my Mom organized for 29 years, including 2012, the year she, like my friend’s sister, lost her life to cancer.

When I arrived at the lake, I sensed so many things that were missing, so many things to mourn.  The plastic bins she packed neatly with games and crafts were missing, replaced by a mish-mash of last-minute items I had thrown into canvas bags.  There was an empty seat around the campfire, and no easel set up on the dock, waiting for a sunset to paint.  When I think of my mom in Maine, I see her smiling in the oversized neon green and blue plaid shirt she inherited from an old high school friend of mine, and her laughter echoes off of the lake.  There are so many ways in which she is not there, and I mourn them all each year that I go up without her.

But this year I carried the rabbi’s words about Shabbat Nachamu with me, and tried not to look back quite so much.  There were consolations and small comforts all around me if I opened my eyes to the present.  The beauty and tranquility of the lake are gifts that live on.  My Dad, siblings, and our kids and partners are still a family: a family that treks hours through weekend summer traffic to be together, to cook hot dogs on an open flame and then to find a new stone to overturn – a new farm to visit, or a new craft project to undertake.  I can see a paintable sunset and relish it, even if I can’t paint it like my mom could.  My nephew, whose entire life began after my Mom died, is making his way fiercely in the world and reminding me of how much of life remains for all of us to discover.

And then I found another new joy that surprised me. My girls are becoming friends.  Not in the way it’s been, where I can get Ruthie to distract Chaya with a book while I change my shirt, or where the girls sit beside each other at the table but interact on separate mental planes. A real friendship is blossoming between them, one which is uniquely theirs, and in which I am only a supporting character.  While we were on vacation, they created their own games together, skipping rocks in the pond side-by-side and enlisting my sister and me for hours of “beauty salon” activities.  They sought each other out to try new jokes and held hands in the backseat of the car.  And there was nothing as consoling as this friendship, which has to be one of parenthood’s greatest gifts.

One of my favorite Jewish notions is that of sacred continuity – that we must remember our past in order to best be in the present and plan for a better future.  Shabbat Nachamu is a bridge from a recollection of loss to an appreciation of what is around us. During my week on the lake, I made a small pilgrimage over that bridge. And with the New Year approaching, I will carry the clarity I found in Maine and continue to seek out consolation and joy.


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Rabbi Jillian Cameron 08-20-14
Jillian with her sister and mother

Family tradition: Jillian (top) with her sister and mother on her grandfather's boat in Ipswich, MA after clamming, circa 1992

“Mom, Dad, I want to go to Hebrew School.” This was the simple phrase of 7-year-old me that changed the course of my life and the religious life of my family.

When I was in second grade my best friend, Julie invited me to come with her to Hebrew School after school one day. Being the kind of kid who loved school and learning, it didn’t take much convincing and a week or so later, I sat with Julie in her Hebrew School classroom, totally enthralled. When I came home that evening and announced to my parents with the innocent certainty belonging only to 7-year-olds that I wanted to continue attending Hebrew School, I can only imagine the sort of parental conversation that ensued after I went to sleep that evening.

You see, my mother was raised Catholic on the North Shore of Massachusetts and my father was raised a conservative Jew in New Jersey, although neither had much affinity for any sort of religion. They met at Northeastern University in the late 60s. They were hippies, they attended anti-war rallies and Woodstock and were married in a hotel in Boston by a justice of the peace. They didn’t give much or any thought to religion even after I was born ten years later.

When I was growing up, we celebrated a variety of holidays in very secular ways; cultural celebrations marked by food or family gatherings. I don’t remember really talking about religion at all until I decided that I wanted to attend Hebrew School and my parents had to make decisions that they perhaps did not want to make. Once I began Hebrew school and we had to join a synagogue, my whole family was welcomed into a warm and friendly community. Both of my parents served on various committees and my sister and I attended religious school and participated in youth group through the end of high school.

Jillian at her ordination

Jillian (second from right) with her sister, mother and father at her ordination from HUC-JIR Rabbinical School in 2012

While I didn’t really understand it at the time, I know now how amazing my parents are to have allowed and encouraged me to follow my Jewish path, despite their own personal reservations. Perhaps it should have been no surprise to them or me, after essentially choosing Judaism for my whole family, that I would choose Judaism over and over again and choose to make Judaism my life’s work by becoming a rabbi.

And now I find myself happily in my mom’s home state, as the new Director of InterfaithFamily/Boston, hoping to meet all kinds of people and families as you navigate your religious life and look to find ways to connect.

My story may be unique, but then, so is yours and I look forward to hearing all of them (contact me at jillianc@interfaithfamily.com). I truly believe that the great strength of Judaism is its continued evolution and the growing diversity of our population will only add to the color, richness and relevance of Judaism for generations to come.


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Jessie Boatright 07-30-14

My little Chaya turned two this month.  Two is a lot of fun. She is developing language at lightening speed, and even though I feel that Eric and I already know her better than anyone else (except, I must admit, her sister Ruthie), it feels as if I get to meet her anew every time she throws another new sentence together. She is just learning how to make a joke, and she loves figuring out how to make us laugh. She is firmly committed to figuring out her place in the world, which sometimes means she shows a glimmer of a “terrible two’s” tantrum, and can be a bit bossy, but overall is just a fascinating study in human development. And on that note, in honor of her birthday, I wanted to share a little story of a deliciously 2-year-old thing she did at Shabbat this month.

A few weeks ago, we were stuck in the throes of a typical Friday night. The girls were both exhausted, and attempting to eat their way through the kitchen cabinets in a race against my ability to get a balanced dinner on the table. Eric was home just a few minutes past his planned arrival time, which was hardly a disaster but meant the dog still needed to go out and the table wasn’t really set. I could hear the sound of chaos in our dining room, and was trying to figure out how to transition us into a peaceful welcoming of our Friday night.

I decided to try something different. Instead of attempting to commandeer everyone into their seats at a nicely set table, I waited until everyone was in the general vicinity of the dining room, made my Shabbat-commencing-confirming eye contact with Eric, and lit the match for the candles. Aha. I had everyone’s attention. I lit the candles, covered my eyes, and began to say the blessing.

Just as the blessing came out of my mouth, Chaya started to dance. I gave up on peeking and just uncovered my eyes. We all looked over at our smallest family member, who was watching the candles with a huge grin on her face, dancing to the melody of the blessing.

It may be a little trite, but this two-year-old was trying to tell us that Shabbat is something about which we should be dancing. More than that, it felt like a bit of a parenting victory. I often feel like when I start a ritual I never know how long it will take to stick, or even if it will stick. This goes across the board, from something as big as Shabbat or as small as teaching the girls to put their clothes in the hamper when they’re dirty. When Chaya danced, it felt like I wasn’t teaching her about Shabbat – she got it, and in her own way, even better than what I tried to teach her.

I doubt Chaya is going to dance every week, or even that I can transition our house from chaos to commonality every Friday like I did that week. But I am thankful for a two-year old who teaches me to see things in new ways, and whose gifts to me will always outnumber what I give to her.

 


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 07-22-14

Sun Shining on the New Couple

After all of the plans and preparations, the big day came and went without a hitch! We had glorious weather, the ceremony was everything that we wanted it to be, and the reception was an absolute blast. We had people from both sides tearing up the dance floor until midnight. We ended the night exhausted, our sides and cheeks hurting from a day spent laughing and grinning ear-to-ear.

We arrived in Worcester on Tuesday night, which really allowed us to take a more relaxed approach to last-minute preparations. There were the table numbers to finish up, the seating chart to arrange, welcome bags to assemble, and yard work to be done, not to mention being here for the tent and bathroom installation. Things went quite smoothly for the most part.

Dana's parents sharing a moment with the Chuppah

On Wednesday morning Dana’s mom, Kathy, wanted to reveal the Chuppah. All along we knew it would include articles of clothing from both families but we had no idea what the finished product would look like. Kathy settled on a tree design using the clothing donations as the leaves of the tree. We must have sat for almost a full hour and looked at it, recognizing the articles and locating other items on the Chuppah. It was truly a spectacular final product that we will keep in our family for many many years.

We were bursting with excitement when Friday evening came around and the out-of-town guest began to arrive. The rehearsal went well and afterwards we gathered at a local restaurant for drinks and appetizers—a chance for our families to mingle and get to know each other before the big day. And—much to our surprise—an a cappella group had been hired to sing to us and Dana’s grandparents, who are celebrating their 65th wedding anniversary in July.

On Saturday morning we woke up to a gorgeous sunny day. The ladies got their hair and make up done while the men slept in and spent the morning lounging. By 5 o’clock everything was in place and we were ready to start the show.

Walking down the aisle

Dana walked down the aisle around 5:30 and the ceremony began. We started with a traditional Jewish blessing over the children given by both of our parents. Then we had a reading by Chris’s uncle (a Jesuit priest), followed by our own version of the seven blessings read by friends and a poem read by Chris’s sister. Afterwards we exchanged vows and rings, Chris stomped on the glass (twice—since he wasn’t sure he had broken it the first time), we kissed, and then it was on to the party!

Now, three-weeks later, it’s hard to remember all of the details from the reception but it truly was a magical day. Many people commented on how personal the ceremony was and how much they learned about both religions. The Horah may have been one of our favorite moments, when family and friends from both sides joined on the dance floor to dance around us and lift us in chairs. The joy that we were able to share with our friends and family was palpable during those few minutes, and everyone had a great time.

The morning after the wedding there was a brunch at the Pulda house, which was a great opportunity to catch up with our guests and spend time with those people we weren’t able to see for long during the reception. It’s funny, before the wedding everyone warned us how quickly the night would go, but I guess it’s one of those things that you have to experience to believe. It truly flew by!

The face of pure excitement...

All in all, the wedding was a wonderful time and we considered it to be a beautiful fusion of both of our faiths. Our families and friends came together to celebrate us, our love, and the future we have before us. We consider it to be a bright future, and look forward to the joys and challenges of being an inter-faith couple and raising children with an appreciation for the rich heritage of both of our faith backgrounds.


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Jessie Boatright 07-01-14

A snapshot of Keeana and Marc's program

I love a good wedding, which almost all of them are, in my experience. Last weekend I had the privilege of being a guest at a really powerful wedding, with a ceremony that was not only joyous but also left me with strong food for thought about the power of marriage, partnership, love, family, and community. I especially loved the way the ceremony charged family and friends to play a role in the couple’s marriage, so much so that I thought I’d share it with you.

Keeana and Marc’s wedding was special because they are a lovely couple – they are both remarkable people who are head-over-heels for each other in an infectious way. They are connected to and with their faith and their clergy in way that made it impossible to not feel spiritually connected to their ceremony. And the fact that five of their friends came together to form a choir just for their ceremony, or that Keeana’s mother, a reverend herself, led the final step of the ceremony, only sweetened the pot.

But what I really loved were the three “Charges” of the ceremony.

As I understand it, the Charge is the officiant’s chance to tell the couple about the responsibilities they are taking on as a married couple. In a Jewish wedding, I think these charges tend to be a bit more understated.  In Keeana and Marc’s Christian wedding, the Charge was not only explicit, but it was said three times in three different ways. First to the congregation, then to the families, and finally to the couple themselves.

In the first charge, the pastors from Boston’s Bethel AME Church (who happen to be married to one another), told the congregation that the couple’s goal for their ceremony was to celebrate their love, to encourage unmarried guests to think about getting married, and to remind married guests about the power of marriage. This is such a lovely way to attend any wedding – to remember not only to notice the wedding dress and to listen to the couple, but also to reflect on your own relationships as you participate.

The second charge was the one that really stood out to me.  I can never do it justice verbatim, but following are the Cliff Notes. The reverends took pause from the flow of the ceremony to speak directly to the bride’s and groom’s families. They reminded them that Keeana and Marc were standing before them and before G-d to enter into a holy partnership, and that moving forward their primary relationships would be with each other and with G-d. Because of the sacred nature of the commitment they were making to each other, the officiants implored the families that the best way to support these two individuals going forward would be to support them as a couple.  This included supporting their ability to (and perhaps need to) forge their own path as a unit, sometimes stepping aside to let them stumble together. The reverends promised that if the families supported the couple’s partnership, they were gaining a respective son and daughter, and that respecting the partnership was the way to be close to the adult child who they raised themselves.

This was not striking because it was a revelation to me – Eric and I have always felt great support for our marriage from our parents. As a parent myself, now, I feel like I am one step closer to understanding the potential challenge of this charge (although not nearly close enough to really get it!). After nine years of marriage, I am unmeasurably appreciative of the ways in which our families have supported our marriage journey, even when we’ve made choices that have been very different from those our parents made (or might have made for us!). The way Keeana and Marc’s pastors laid out the charge reminded me that this is never something to be taken lightly, that it is work, and that it is sacred work. And while this post may read as more about marriage than parenting, the truth is that all of this only becomes more important when children are in the mix, and the dynamics present and decisions to be made feel even more complex than before.

So it reminded me, especially on the eve of our anniversary this week, to say:

Thank you to Mom and Dad and Mom and Dad!!!

(and the rest of our families, too, of course), and to remember that the successful union of two people is all the richer when we have our friends and family holding up that union.

The final charge, to the couple, was a lovely statement about love and commitment. And all of the wedding guests will remember the way that two pastors emboldened them to maintain a passionate marital bed, but that is for another kind of post for another kind of day.

So Mazel Tov to Keeana and Marc. Mission accomplished in helping me reflect on the power of love and marriage. Thanks to you two, too.


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 06-14-14

Hello Everyone,

The countdown is on! As of today we have officially two weeks until we tie the knot in front of our friends and family. To say we are excited and counting down the days would be an understatement.

Preparations are moving along smoothly. RSVPs are in (201!) and even our “I work best under pressure” friends have booked hotel rooms. Tomorrow morning we are having a final tasting of the cupcakes and sampling the appetizers for the rehearsal dinner. Songs have been selected, the ceremony is (mostly) organized, and we got our Pinterest on making some pretty cool homespun table numbers out of stained wood, nails and twine.

FIrst Graders do give the best advice

Friday night we attended a party with some of Chris’s co-workers, and they revealed something they’ve been working on: a book of marriage advice from Chris’s first grade students. They were absolutely precious, and here are some of the highlights:

Roberta, age 7: “How to be a good husband: You can kiss her! Spend time with her! Take her dancing! Take care of the kids! Love her and the kids”

Asia, age 6, has some fashion tips: “I’ll give you advice: You need handsome clothing, like a black tuxedo, and you need shiny black shoes”

Kofi, age 7: “Show love to her by giving her flowers and chocolate ice cream and chocolate hearts and take her on special vacations, like to California.”

Takyus, age 7: “Take her on a date and make her dinner before she gets home. And do your laundry…and hers too.”

Devon, age 6: “Be kind to the wife. Do what the wife says. Have fun with the wife”

Do your laundry...and hers, too!

It goes on like this for pages and pages, advice from 100 first graders many of whom recommend buying things like dresses, roses, and rings–who can argue with that wisdom? There was funny advice, silly advice, and a lot of poignant advice about being kind, patient and honest with one another.

We believe that our plan for the ceremony so far reflects our willingness to be patient and honest with one another, and our commitment to include elements of both religious faiths in our lives as we move forward. Here’s the rundown so far:

  • The reception will be in Dana’s backyard and the ceremony will be in the front. A good friend of ours has agreed to serve as our Justice of the Peace, and we will stand with him, Chris’s brother and Dana’s sister on a small platform in the front yard. Most guests will stand during the short ceremony.
  • As we’ve mentioned, we will be married beneath a Chuppah, although we are not sure if we are going to need Chuppah bearers or not. The Chuppah was quilted by Dana’s mom, Kathy, out of significant articles of clothing donated from many family members. Those of you familiar with Patricia Polacco’s story The Keeping Quilt will know how meaningful this quilt will be to us throughout our lives.
  • We will sign a Ketubah, which Chris is busy designing. It will have an image of a tree with silhouettes of birds on it, reflecting a favorite quote of Chris’ mom’s: “There are only two lasting bequeaths we can hope to give our children: one of these is roots, the other wings.”
  • Chris’s uncle, a Jesuit priest, will read from St. Paul’s 1st Letter to the Corinthians (“Love is patient, love is kind…”) and his sister will read the beautiful poem “Love” attributed to Roy Croft.
  • We have seven groups of friends and family members who will read our version of the Seven Blessings.
  • And…Chris is stomping on a glass, of course. I think he may be more excited for that than any other part of the wedding.
  • Following the ceremony and a brief Yichud (mostly to allow us time to breathe and enjoy the fabulous food) we will have cocktails in the backyard and then a reception until around midnight!
  • Dana’s grandfather will perform a Motzi and give a brief speech and many other favorite wedding traditions will follow: the Horah, the mother/son and father/daughter dances, a non-messy cake cutting, and speeches by the best man and maid of honor. We’re skipping things like the bouquet and garter toss, as they’re not really our style.

 

Then it will be over! We can’t believe it is all happening so fast. It is an event that has been a long time in the making and we anticipate it like we’ve never looked forward to anything in our lives. We can only hope that everyone has as much fun as we know we will.

We’ll try to post again in the next few weeks as everything comes together! Thank you for reading and going through this wonderful process with us.


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 03-10-14
Since Chris and I have been planning our wedding for so long, it’s strange to think that it will actually happen–and soon! This weekend really put it into perspective how close it is as my bridal shower was this past Sunday. It was held in my hometown, at the home of a very good family friend. Four of my mom’s friends hosted the shower and it was amazing. They truly thought of every detail and made sure the women from both sides of our families felt included.As we’ve mentioned many times before, both of our families are large. So, as one may imagine, the shower was quite crowded with about 50 in all of family and friends–most of whom were meeting for the first time. The event began with lunch and schmoozing. After we ate everyone gathered in the living room to embarrass me (in the most loving way possible) with a quiz about Chris.

Then, some members from both families stood up and spoke. This part was so touching. My aunt Liz spoke about my grandmother, who passed 5 years ago, and how much she would have loved Chris. A few of Chris’ aunts read poems or blessings. My sister, who lives in Israel, sent something for my mom to read for her, and Chris’ sister, who lives in England, sent something for Chris’ mom, Judi, to read. Then, for the big finale, both my mom and Judi said a few words, both of which brought me to tears. Chris’ mom read the following poem:

A Mother’s Prayer

I prayed for you
Before I ever met you
And once I saw you
I knew I would never forget you.

There was something about you
That was special and rare
But I didn’t know yet
That you were the answer to my prayer.

You were the answer to the prayer
For the one my son would wed
I prayed for you from the time he was born
And this is where my prayers led.

I prayed for your health
Health of body, soul and spirit
And I knew always in my heart
That God, our Father, would hear it.

And now I know just who you are
And how you found your way
Into our hearts and homes and lives
And to your wedding day.

I have put together this little poem
To show you how much we care
How proud we are to celebrate together
The answer to a mother’s prayer.

Now…if that doesn’t bring you to tears, I don’t know what will! My mom also brought the place to tears, but mostly through laughter. She teased about how the key to a successful marriage is BreatheRight Strips and how it’s best to bake goodies when your children aren’t home so you can lick the batter, ha! Now I know why there was always banana bread and brownies around when I got home from school!

I truly felt like the luckiest person in the world, not only for the amazing gifts we got (!!!) but also for the immense amount of love that surrounded Chris and I. We are truly blessed.

110 days to the wedding!


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 02-23-14

child skiingAs the Winter Olympics have been consuming our TV watching the past few weeks, Chris and I have been talking about our future children–particularly, our future children and sports. Will we raise a future Olympic athlete? Possibly, but probably not. We are both relatively athletic and played sports as children; Chris was an avid hockey player through high school and I took up rowing in high school and stuck with it through college.

I often ask myself how people get into sports in the first place (this came up often while watching many of the sliding events at the Olympics–how does one become a skeleton competitor?!) I imagine children are first exposed to the sports their parents’ were (or still are) involved with and then make choices from there. Of course, Chris is already talking about buying our future first child a pair of hockey skates, and I know I’d love my children to experience the lifelong friendships and physically active lifestyle I attribute to my years as a rower.  We both enjoy skiing and would surely expose our children to that at an early age. But…the rest is really up to them.

This made us think about how in many respects, religion parallels athletics, or really any interest that can be passed on from a parent. A child’s first exposure to religion is through their parents and the religion(s) they practice. Clearly this is more complicated when parents practice different religions, as we do. Chris and I do not happen to be the type of believers who find Judaism and Catholicism mutually exclusive, but we know that there are many among both faith groups who would say that you must pick a side.

So what do we do? Try to expose our children equally to both faiths and wait and see which they choose? Will our children have Bar or Bat Mitzvahs or first communions and confirmations? Is it possible for them to choose to practice both? We do not really know the answer to these questions, and in fact think that our kids will be infinitely more qualified to address them. We do acknowledge that exposing our children to our faiths will require us to make some changes, but we can’t exactly foresee what this will mean. Ultimately the best we can hope for is to raise our children with the values our religions have taught us; kindness, caring, loyalty, honesty, and generosity. And if they end up competing at the Olympics one day, we’ll be there to cheer them on.


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 01-12-14

Hi–it’s Chris here. Following a Facebook link early last week, I reach this article which discusses a “Jewish” style of conversation which the author of the study refers to as “cooperative overlapping,” and which I and many other people who are not Jewish–and, I’m sure, a lot of Jews who don’t practice this conversational style–would call interrupting. [Note: I used the quotations because, as the author notes, "Jewish conversational style" is not a very precise term, and it seems to refer more to Eastern European Jews from the general New York area. In fact, I might go as far as to call this harried conversational style more typical of New Yorkers in general than Jews specifically, but I digress.]

Reading this article got me to thinking about our often unthought-of cultural heritage, the unspoken set of assumptions and standard operating procedures that all of us walk around with. In my education classes this is referred to as your “cultural knapsack” to emphasize how pervasive it is; we carry it with us everywhere. I remember the first family Channukah party I attended, and while I would not accuse any member of Dana’s family of practicing the not-so-delicate art of cooperative overlapping, I do recall being overwhelmed by the constant conversation, trying very hard to keep pace–and I thought my large Irish-Italian family could talk!

Conversational style is just one of perhaps a million things that we are coming to learn about one another and our families. Little did I know, for example, that it was “a gentile thing” to eat dinner early! Or that Jews are the true masters of ordering Chinese, and that, at least in Dana’s family your Chinese food is always shared. These small things, whether they are cultural or merely family traditions, are part of what makes this union so exciting. Dana and I are constantly learning new things about one another and our culture and background, and have learned to be more sensitive about insisting that our way is the right way or the only way. In addition to just learning about how the other half lives, we’ve both expanded our horizons by attending multiple religious services of the other person’s faith. But I suppose that’s a blog entry for another time…

 


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Dana Pulda and Chris Acone 12-12-13

Chris and Dana here; the new couple for InterfaithFamily’s wedding blog. We’re so excited to share our experiences with you.

Let us begin by introducing ourselves. Dana is originally from central Massachusetts and Chris is from southern New Hampshire. We met in Boston after college while working as Americorps volunteers for a non-profit called Playworks and have been together for over five years. Dana was raised conservative Jewish and Chris was raised Catholic but currently neither of us attend service regularly. We still live in Boston in our newly purchased condo and are both still working in Education; Chris as a first grade teacher at a Boston Public School and Dana as a school administrator at a private school in Boston.

It has certainly taken us some time to get used to our different religions and traditions, but we have both been very open-minded throughout the learning process. We have each tried new things and gotten involved in one another’s faith. A key element of this is that we participate when we feel comfortable to do so and ‘sit it out’ when we don’t.

Now…about our wedding! We got engaged in November of 2012 and are getting married next June, 2014 at Dana’s parents’ home. The ceremony will take place in the front yard and the reception will be in backyard under a tent, in what Chris likes to call a “mullet wedding…business in the front, party in the back.” We will be married by a mutual friend and plan to incorporate aspects of both religions into the wedding ceremony. While we are not entirely sure what that will look like yet, we do know a few key details: there will be a chuppah, designed by Dana’s mother (more details about that later) and we will undoubtedly dance the hora, we will have a few Bible readings of Chris’ choosing and Chris is extremely excited to break a glass and give guests custom-made Boston Bruins kippot.

So how is our relationship different than a same-faith couple? Well, we don’t have to split holidays, which is pretty nice, and we get to celebrate both Christmas and Hannukah. In the beginning we often had to act as ambassadors for our respective faiths, explaining a lot and trying not to assume that the other knew things. We began the discussion of how to raise our children very early on and continue to give it a lot of thought. We both feel that religion is an important element of our lives both culturally and spiritually, and want to pass on the values we’ve received from our families and upbringing. However, we’ve also had to do a lot of self-reflection and think about how much of a role religion plays in each of our own lives at the moment.

It has certainly been a journey to get where we are now and we have learned a lot along the way. We are very excited to share our wedding experience with you readers and to see what our future brings!

Cheers,

Chris and Dana


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