A Coming Out Tale: Getting Over My Embarrassment and Calling Myself Religious

[rug]

By Tamara Shayne Kagel
18 hours ago

I have always been cagey when detailing information about myself that might classify me as religious. Not that I was ever embarrassed or cryptic about telling people I was Jewish. Telling people I was Jewish when people asked what my Christmas plans were, or just offering up the info sua sponte, had always been easy. Telling people I was religious is another story. Even though I’ve blogged for the Jewish Journal many times, I’ve rarely if ever written about religion. So when my fiancé who was raised agnostic asked me after only three months of dating if I cared about my kids being Jewish, I was nervous to give my answer. I wanted to give an emphatic yes, but I was scared he would immediately think I was a brainwashed nutcase who rejects Darwinism. But, at the same time, as my father told me at services that year, at some point, my new boyfriend was going to find out that Judaism was a part of my life and I could only keep it at bay for so long. Yes, I answered, resisting the temptation to squirm. I care a lot, I fessed up. He was silent for a while, and after I asked him for his thoughts, he responded with a prophetic explanation of I’m just processing this because I didn’t realize I was going to have Jewish children. He was surprised because, though he already knew I was Jewish, he never imagined I was religious.

It was a strange and awkward journey to go from someone who avoided discussing religion in social situations to being engaged to someone who ended up converting to a new religion, making religion very prominent in our lives for a period of time. Even with my closest friends, I rarely discussed religion, so when my fiancé began the arduous process of a halakhic conversion to Judaism, it started to come up a lot in our social conversations, in a way I had never expected. And in many ways, I also feel as though I’ve been converted from one type of Jew to another. I’ve had to come out as a religious person to many people. Even though they all knew I was Jewish, what they didn’t know was in their words how much I care about religion.

In a lot of circles, including yours probably if you're reading this, religion is the last frontier of things we’re not supposed to talk about. Discussing money, politics, and sex have all become pro forma in our more casual, more open-minded, world. But talking about what we actually believe, delineating if and when we pray, what sort of God we might believe in, or what if anything happens to us after we die, those details are never spoken. I would feel more comfortable talking about sex with my eighty-nine year old decorous Grandmother than asking my Christian friends if they think I’m going to hell because I’m not Christian. Which is probably why I’ve actually done the former but never the latter. And even though I’m guessing that based on their use of birth control, their decisions about sex, and their pro-choice positions, that they probably don’t believe I’m going to hell the way the strict theologians at the top of their Churches do, I still have never felt comfortable enough to flesh it out with them over a bottle of wine, although no one seems to have any qualms about discussing vibrators and pornography. But at the same time, none of them have ever asked me if I believe Jews being a “chosen people” means that I think I am better than them. And while if they did, I would explain that chosen is a poor translation for what the word in Hebrew actually is which is more akin to different and that there’s no sense of superiority in being a chosen people, but rather just an explanation that we are a different people, my guess is the fear that I might simply say I believe all Jews are better than Christians is what keeps them from confirming this with me. What we truly believe seems to be the last frontier of what we can’t publicly discuss.

But over the last two years, the luxury of avoiding the topic was stripped away from me. I first had to discuss what I believed in detail with my future life partner in way that I would never have been forced to do if I were marrying someone who was raised Jewish, which for us turned out to be a wonderful thing for our relationship. And as our relationship grew, we discussed many times what I believe, why I believe it, why Judaism specifically is important to me, what I want to impart to children, and why I could never be anything but Jewish although sometimes I toy with atheism. And though, he told me right off the bat that he would help me raise future kids Jewish, but he would probably not be the type to ever convert, I was more surprised than anyone when after we were already engaged, he told me he wanted to convert because he had developed his own relationship with Judaism. And, just when I finally felt comfortable talking to my partner about all aspects of religion and our beliefs, we had to tell friends and family about his choice and I found myself again forced to talk about my most discomfiting subject all the time. But of course, the reason my now Jewish fiancé told me he didn’t think he would ever convert is the same reason I avoided the subject all together. He didn't know he could be religious and not have to believe that everyone else was sinning and going to hell. He didn't know that converting to a religion could have nothing to do with 'salvation.' In other words, 'religious’ people had given religion a bad name.

http://www.jewishjournal.com/tattletales/item/a_coming_out_tale_getting_over_my_embarrassment_and_calling_myself_religiou

[cbayer]

1. Here, here. More voices like hers are needed.

I think many on the religious left are sick to death of being lumped in with the religious right and those that do it need to be corrected.

[Jim__]

2. For all that, she doesn't actually tell us what she believes.

... But talking about what we actually believe, delineating if and when we pray, what sort of God we might believe in, or what if anything happens to us after we die, those details are never spoken. I would feel more comfortable talking about sex with my eighty-nine year old decorous Grandmother than asking my Christian friends if they think I’m going to hell because I’m not Christian. ...

She does tell us that she doesn't believe Jews are better than other people, she doesn't believe they are chosen; but not too much else.

Also, if she is a religious Jew in the way I understand Jews are religious, then her friends almost have to know. When you are friends with a religious Jew, one of the first things you learn is that you can't generally share food with them. And, they are not available to socialize on Friday night or Saturday.

It does seem like in an essay about how she is now comfortable discussing her beliefs, she would have discussed her beliefs a little bit more.

[rug]

3. It sounds like she does to those she knows.

And as I’ve gotten more comfortable with the subject, I’ve come to realize that a surprising number of my intellectual progressive friends felt the same way I did. Many of them, some Jewish, many Christian, were religious in their own quiet way; in a way that’s not casting aspersion on ‘sinners,’ but brings families together and honors traditions. But they too didn’t want to be associated with the “religious nut-jobs” who quickly come to mind when we think of religious people in this country and especially in relation to politics. So why did we, the sane ones, lose the term “religious” to extreme fundamentalist groups?

I rhink she is consciously shunning the ostentatious proclamations of the evangelists.

[cbayer]

5. I'm not sure that's important at all.

Her point seems to be more that she is "out" as a believer, not that she feels the need to share her specific beliefs. That might be something she prefers to share only with those she knows best.

I have friends that keep kosher, and I share and even prepare meals for them. It's a matter of accommodation, but certainly doesn't prevent sharing food with them. At any rate, religious jews can have a variety of dietary practices and how they do or don't spend shabat.

I think the point is that she felt she would be negatively judged.

[el_bryanto]

4. It's like peeling a bandaid I think

Once you do it you feel better; but doing it can be stressful for some people. It's like any aspect of your life that you know some people might not approve of. You can hide it and avoid the potential for disdain or rude comments or you can share it and be who you really are.

Bryant