On Shopping for a Rabbi

Three Rabbis walk into a bar.

The bartender turns to them, takes one look, and says, “What, is this some kind of joke?”

With our 10 Requirements in hand, Steve and I set out to find our New York City Rabbi. As with many things these days, our search began with Google, and ended with an empty wallet and broken dreams.  Not really.

There are over 1,000 synagogues in New York City, 1.9 million Jews and more than 150 kosher restaurants.  Over 70,000 Jews live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan alone, and after years of decline, the number of Jews in New York is on the rise (I’m a trend setter, what can I say?)

We decided, with Steve’s parents’ blessing, to pursue a Conservative, Reform or Reconstructionist conversion, and to find a synagogue that felt right to us and fit into our current and very secular lifestyle.

As someone who has never been a part of organized religion, Reform Judaism initially makes a lot of sense to me.  In Newton, many of my friends were Reform Jews, so it feels like the most comfortable option.  After reading more about the denomination, I like it even more. Its aim to be a modernized form of Judaism that seamlessly melds with modern life, society and culture, is appealing.  It proclaims the Jewish laws to be open to interpretations, rather than defining one strict set of rules for observance.  Reform is the largest denomination for American Jews today, and attempts to introduce innovation while preserving tradition.  It embraces diversity of people, belief and practices.  While it affirms God, Torah and Israel, it doesn’t reject people who doubt. It is inclusive, not exclusive.

Other appealing aspects of the Reform denomination include: full equality of men and women (a Reform female Rabbi was first ordained in 1972) and full equality of all people, regardless of their sexual orientation or religious upbringing.

I called and emailed: two Conservative Rabbis, four Reform Rabbis and one Recontructionist Rabbi.  (This sounds like the beginning of another bad Jewish joke).

Unlike the character Charlotte on Sex and the City, who converts to Judaism for marriage, the Rabbis I contacted did not turn me away three times before agreeing to meet with me.  Some did, however, completely ignore me (more than three times).  As a development professional, I find ignoring to be both impolite and a poor way of doing business. This is New York City. They were disqualified.

***

On a weekday during lunchtime, Steve and I went to a large Reform Synagogue in Manhattan.  The kind with famous and semi-famous and/or political congregants.  The kind with NYPD stationed outside 24/7 (it turns out they all have this).  The kind housed in a very old, stone structure built nearly a century ago, on a corner in a very prominent neighborhood. We sat on elaborately carved wooden benches in a wide and silent hallway as we waited to meet with the Rabbi.  I was nervous.  I felt like a kid waiting to meet with the school principal, or like I was waiting for a really important job interview.  In fact, I remember feeling like what I imagined my friend and her fiancé might have felt like as they waited to meet with United States Immigration Officials for her green card.

Rabbi A appeared and we followed him in the elevator and down a quiet hall to his office.  He told me, “Yes, it was built in the 1920s,” when I remarked on the beautiful wood paneling on the walls.

Rabbi A was young.  I mean young, young.  Very likely younger than Steve, who is 30 years old.  We could tell he might have been kind of cool, and he was obviously a top dog in rabbinical school, to have landed such an amazing first-gig.

Steve and I sat together on a couch in his very large office, full of books.  Rabbi A sat across from us in a chair and said the words, “Well, welcome” about 10 times before the conversation finally began.  It’s possible he was more nervous than I.

We told him our story (not the full story), but a version of the truth—about Newton, my Jewish friends in childhood, my lack of religion, Steve’s family and religious upbringing, and our marriage-to-be.

I took a piece of advice from the same foreign-born friend who has since married her American fiancé. Steve and I talked before the Rabbi meeting and got our stories straight: there would be no talk of the lie, or the numerous break-ups over our 14-year relationship and Steve would say nothing less than heartfelt words of admiration when he explained his Jewish background and feelings toward the religion.  It would be all unicorns and puppies and rainbows, as it were.

Rabbi A stressed that the drive to convert or to join the synagogue after conversion come from me, from us.  He was anti-pressure.  He told us that he runs his bi-weekly one-on-one meetings with prospective converts the following way:

“At the end of our meetings, I’ll ask to set the next meeting date. But, if you say ‘I have to check my calendar’ and you go home and I never see or hear from you again, that’s your choice.”

I have a lot of friends who wish the last guy they dated would just take the hint, like Rabbi A seemed willing and able to do. Rabbi A did add that he would worry and wonder if the aforementioned situation occurs…but ultimately leave us alone.

***

I spoke to Rabbi B, from a non-denominational/loosely Reform congregation, on the phone one afternoon. He didn’t think we needed to meet in person.  I could tell from his voice (and the Google image search I did on him) that he was older.  He was nice, outgoing, funny, a bit of a chatterbox.  He’s worked with many, many interfaith couples, he said, and with many people on their conversions.  He teaches a well-known course on Judaism in New York City, and during our hour-long conversation, he asked me to tell him about my and Steve’s backgrounds, and why I wanted to take the class.

I began our previously discussed and rehearsed party line.  When I got to the part about how Steve was raised Conservative/modern-Orthodox, he interrupted me.

“Hmm,” Rabbi B said.  “Well, I teach this course with an emphasis on the Reform denomination’s practices.  In my experience, and I could be wrong, I don’t know Steve, but in my experience, this might not be right for him.”

“Well, he’s really not religious anymore—except for celebrating holidays with his family, so I think–”

“Yeaaaah.  I mean Steve, this would be a big change for him, and even if he says he’s OK with it now, he might not be OK with a non-kosher synagogue, or a rock band on the bimah…” Rabbi B continued to speak about our eventual Jewish children, and our evolving Jewish identities, and how that would be at odds with Steve’s family.  Rabbi B reiterated that this might not be right for Steve.

“We’ve talked, really, I know how Steve feels about this,” I said.

“Most people I work with say to me, well I was raised on Long Island and went to a Conservative synagogue growing up and it was no big deal, and now my mom wants my fiancé to be Jewish before we get married. You’re not saying that to me,” Rabbi B said.

It seemed that our story didn’t fit so neatly into Rabbi B’s particular worldview.  Nevertheless, he told me to ask Steve several questions (which he had me write down), and then invited us to come to the first class of the course that night, if we wanted to move forward.

I relayed the conversation and Rabbi B’s questions to Steve online later:

Me: Oh jeez

Steve: ???

Me: Just talked to a rabbi on the phone.  He is a character.

Steve: Hahaha. They all are!

Me: Oy Vey.  Like, seriously.

Me: We have to speak, you and I (at his suggestion). I have Qs for you.  Are you free tonight? At 7:30?

Steve: Wait, what?

Me: We can go to his class tonight, if we want. 

Me: Ok, so to recap the call: he thinks you won’t like Reform Judaism, though says he might be wrong.  He asked me to ask you: 1) Will you mind if I am not accepted/future children are not accepted as Jews in other Jewish communities, like the one you grew up with?

Steve: No, I won’t mind.

Me: 2) A lot of reform places don’t acknowledge the 2nd day of holidays at all.  How does that make you feel?

Steve: Makes me feel good.

Me: 3) The rabbi and synagogue may not be kosher.  How do you feel about that?

Steve: We’re not kosher.

Me: 4) Does guitar and/or tuba playing on the bima (spelling?) upset, surprise or offend you?

Steve: Excites me.

Me: 5) And any kids we have will not have anything close to the level of Jewish education you’ve had…

Steve: Good

Me: OK, then we can be Reform.

Me: Oh also–he said you MUST be involved, even after the conversion.  So if it’s not cool to you, we need to figure something else out.

Steve: Well I don’t see how they can enforce that.

Me: He’s worked with a lot of couples and said this can become a dividing thing when the spouse who converts is into it and the born-Jewish one is not.

Steve: I’ve seen Sex and the City.

Steve: How do you feel about it?

Me: I see the point.  I’d like to think we’d be on the same page, but can tell that you may want nothing to do with it.  I can see the potential issue there.

Steve: Fair enough.  Judaism is part of my identity and will always be that way…and I like the holidays with family.  But in 30 years, a prayer service has never done anything for me, as compared to, say, a concert or film I like.  And, in 30 years, my education has progressed and my belief in and attachment to any theological or supernatural ideas has diminished.  I don’t see myself, at this time, wanting to go to services regularly.

This is a conversation we have continued to have over the last few months.

***

Rabbi C is on maternity leave, but on a weekday after work, we met with her colleague, a senior member of the Education Department.  The woman we met with has a PhD and everyone’s bio I read on the website clearly indicates that they were well educated and intellectual. They are the kind of people who read books.

After we checked in with the guard at the door and entered the lobby, we were immediately greeted by dozens of kids screaming and running around and parents rushing after them.  The Jewish school program had just gotten out.

Upstairs, we told Rabbi C’s stand-in our story, and she told us about the program.  This synagogue offers a comprehensive conversion program.  What I mean by that is at most synagogues in New York City, the prospective convert must go outside the synagogue to receive an introductory education, typically through a Union for Reform Judaism course or at the 92Y, and then complete the conversion process concurrently/following completion of the course.  This synagogue brings the education process in-house.  I asked: “So what’s the reason you decided to do that here, what were the URJ and 92Y doing that you wanted to differently?”

She smiled.  “Oh, so you want to know the dirt, huh?”

(Can you tell I am a former journalist?)

Her response was more-or-less diplomatic.  I resisted the impulse to press her.

Steve and I asked her questions (as we did of the other Rabbis): How would you describe the congregation’s culture? How would you describe the average student in the class?  What’s the process for conversion?  How long does it take?  Do we need to become members of the synagogue? And other basic who, what, when, where, why, and how questions. In this case, what’s Rabbi C like?

She described Rabbi C as knowledgeable, and having worked with many converts before.  Rabbi C is a new mom and was hired by the synagogue several years ago to specifically run this Intro to Judaism and conversion course.  She emphasized the community feeling of the congregation, and told us that classmates in Intro to Judaism classes in the past have become friends with one another, scheduling Shabbat dinners and exchanging emails outside of class.  The typical student is in their 20s or 30s and in an interfaith relationship.  Couples attend together.

Within the conversion process she outlined, she mentioned that they recognize that everyone comes into the conversion process with a different level of Jewish knowledge already.  The process is tailored to each individual and includes an intellectual, self-directed and in-depth course of study on “something Jewish,” be it art and architecture, food, the holocaust, history, or Jews in popular culture.

After this meeting, Steve and I reflected on our options as we made the walk to Rockefellar Center to look at the Christmas Tree, along with the tourists.  Yes, really.

***

Rabbis D and E, both Conservative, were disqualified before the interview round. I had scheduled a meeting with Rabbi D, but their assistant cancelled it last-minute.  When I tried to reschedule, the assistant never responded to my emails.  The other Conservative Rabbi told me, unfortunately, that their Introduction to Judaism and conversion course had begun a few weeks ago, and since classes were underway, we would have to take next year’s course instead. Wait another year? No, thanks. I’ve waited 14 already.

Rabbis F and G never responded to my numerous phone calls and emails.  Reports consistently show that fewer and fewer Americans belong to synagogues and churches and that these institutions are scrambling to find ways to bring in new, younger congregants and membership money.  Seriously, Rabbis F and G (and for that matter, Assistant to Rabbi D), what gives?

So, whom should I choose for my conversion to Judaism? Rabbi A, B or C?  I’m taking a poll, and please weigh in!  As always, comments are truly appreciated in the “Leave a Reply” section below.

{image credit: New Yorker cartoon by Edward Sorel.  Published December 15, 1997}