Interfaith families affiliate with synagogues to make a Jewish connection for themselves and their children. But what might make them leave? Some leave for neutral reasons, such as location, convenience, or accessibility. But the tricky cases leave for other reasons.
Here are three interfaith families who faced whether to stay or to go. Because this is not an expose, the temples are not identified and the families' residence is omitted.
Leaving for Community
Karen Maslow says her husband feels a strong core of Jewish identity, but is not religious. Religion, however, is important to Maslow, who grew up Unitarian. "I have warm feelings about religion," she says. "I wanted to have that for my family."
They joined Temple Aleph, the large Reform temple in their town, but found it unwelcoming. At services, "no one even noticed us, no one said hello." She attributes this to the temple's size: it was "pretty well populated, and they didn't really need new members."
But for Maslow, who felt awkward as a non-Jew inside a temple, this indifference spilled over into the interfaith realm. Maslow felt that the rabbi always assumed that "you knew everything that was going on." And the rabbi was extremely uncomfortable with intermarriage. This, she says, made her husband feel chastised, "as if, as a Jew he should not be proud because he had married outside the faith."
They left for a Unitarian congregation, but her husband was uncomfortable in a church. After returning briefly to Temple Aleph, they joined a small Reform temple in another town where they felt welcome, but it was too far from home.
Eventually, they found the then-fledgling Temple Gimmel, also Reform, also small, and eager for new members. Maslow finds it very sensitive both to non-Jews and to Jews with a spotty knowledge of Judaism. "The rabbi always explains what's going on," she says. And, unlike Temple Aleph, at Temple Gimmel, Maslow says she will be able to hold the Torah at her son's Bar Mitzvah.
Leaving for Compatibility
Ilene Kantrov and her husband appreciated much of what Temple Dalet, the large Reform congregation in her town, had to offer, and actually preferred its adult and family education program to what's offered at her present synagogue. But she says she never quite felt connected there.
Kantrov, who has two children, says, "connecting to the whole place was very intimidating. It is hard for me to participate in large settings."
She found that the rabbi was "more rigid about what Jews should do" than she preferred and that neither he nor the education director were responsive to parent input. In addition, Temple Dalet, she felt, tended to ignore interfaith issues. "Whenever we wanted to talk about it," says Kantrov referring to a family retreat, the rabbi would stop us. "It was seen as a problem that was in a box, not part of what people were struggling with as Jews." In contrast, it was refreshing to hear the rabbi of Temple Hay, where her family is now affiliated, commend the efforts of interfaith families trying to make a Jewish life.
Leaving Forever
Glen Birnbach (not his real name) told his wife on their first date that he couldn't marry her because she wasn't Jewish. Fifteen years and three children later, they've reversed roles. Now, she'd like to stay at Temple Vav, and he's thinking of leaving--for good.
"When I married my wife, I told her it was important to me to raise Jewish children," says Birnbach. Now, "I've told her I'm ready to cede to her the authority for deciding how spiritually she want to raise the children. I'm not willing to assume that responsibility," he says.
"I don't know what I want," says Birnbach. At the same time that he finds the Jewish rituals he grew up with hollow (though familiar), he is not comfortable with the spiritual style of Temple Vav.
To Birnbach, the rationale for being Jewish was to preserve the Jewish people, but that rationale no longer holds. "The people who want to be zealously religious Jews can be that way, and I don't have to be that for them," he says. "And if I don't have to be that for them, and if I don't have to be that for my ancestors, I don't want to be that for myself."
At temple, Birnbach feels confronted with the fragility of human life and with questions of morality. "I find it disconcerting, not comforting, to be there while people are saying Kaddish (prayer for the dead). I am not prepared to think about those things."
He can't connect with other temple members because he and they are on such different wavelengths. If he left Temple Vav, he says, he would not go anywhere else.
What can be gleaned from this tiny sample of intermarried voices? Perhaps this: each interfaith family poses unique concerns, needs, and challenges. Committed families will actively seek congregations where they can feel at home. Those not comfortable with their Judaism may not be comfortable anywhere.
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