Making a Jew

I've now been a Jew for both a Jewish and a Gregorian calendar cycle. I've found it most interesting, although very difficult to put into words, how much of a difference the conversion ceremony made in my experience. It broke down the last wall that I hadn't even realized was there, and now any residual discomfort I may have felt as a "not-quite-a-Jew" is totally gone. I had none of my previous December anxiety (which I thought I'd written about, but I don't see it. Maybe I wrote it somewhere else), was comfortable enough to host our seder (albeit in a nervous way) and no longer feel the need to qualify my Jewishness with "by choice".

Unless somebody asks, and then I'm also completely comfortable discussing my journey without feeling defensive or like I have to prove that I'm sufficiently Jewish to claim the word.

(I've been asked twice "You're Jewish? I thought you were Irish" (meaning Irish Catholic). By the same person. Who is Jewish. I really like this person, and I do have Irish heritage, but twice?)

I found this article, entitled "How We Make A Jew", while looking for something else. My own mikveh experience was very similar to this and was immediately followed by a conversion ceremony at the synagogue and then Qabbalat Shabbat services. And then a festive oneg at our favorite bar-and-grill.

I felt so blessed then by the warmth and acceptance I received, and that blessed feeling has continued ever since.

Celebrating death?

A week ago today, the world learned of the death of Osama bin Laden. I have been sitting with this ever since, trying to decide what, if anything, to say.

I have not been able to summon much of an emotional reaction to the death itself. I do feel a certain relief that he's gone, but not more. I suspect that, had I lost anyone in the 9/11 attacks, or had I lived in NYC or DC, I would feel differently. But I was living in the middle of the flyover states at the time, and, while we were alarmed and dismayed, I don't think many of us really considered ourselves or our community a likely target.

I was, however, rather distressed to see the celebrations in the streets. It's not that I don't understand the impulse, and I certainly don't mourn his death. Maybe it's just that mob mentality of any kind makes me nervous.

Several of my friends indicated that they would have preferred to see bin Laden captured and put on trial. Since I can't imagine that such a trial wouldn't have ended in the death penalty for a completely remorseless man anyway, I'm actually fine with the way it went down. Any trial would have just been a public spectacle.

In searching for the midrash about God chastising the angels who sang when the Egyptians were drowning, I found this blog post, posted about Parsha Beshalach (this year, I think...before bin Laden's death, anyway).

I particularly liked this portion of the post: "God 'does what He has to do,' but that doesn’t mean it isn’t tragic that there are bad people. It is so sad that people choose to hurt people, and punished they must be! But God mourns that loss of a human being who just couldn’t use his/her life in the right way. How can we internalize this message, and where can we apply some of this perspective?"

I don't believe that any particular emotional reaction to this is wrong. And I hesitate to compare this country's jubilation over an evil man's demise with the celebrations in certain countries by certain segments of their populations in response to 9/11...the events are hardly equivalent.

So I sit with my discomfort and worry about backlash and pray that I and my loved ones never find ourselves on the wrong end of any kind of mob.