The first year there was a Christmas tree in my home, the
guilt I felt was tremendous. For the first 26 years of my life, there had been
no tree. In fact, at Sunday school, we were taught we were absolutely not to participate
in Christmas activities, whether it was decorating a tree, singing a song,
performing in a play, or even attending a party. I remember feeling almost cocky
about it in my warped childhood mind. We were not Christian, and we would not
pretend to be Christian. So there, all you Christians!
In truth, I was always envious of my Christian friends.
Christmas in my world was just December 25th on the calendar, and almost
everyone else I knew spent that day immersed in a wonderful celebration. I
remember how excited my friends in college were to be going home for the
holidays, and I was always sad. I felt very left out, although I knew that was
never anyone’s intention.
Before we had children, Dave and I knew we had to decide how
we would merge our two religions. We agreed that because our kids would be
exposed to a lot of the Christian world in their everyday lives, we would make
an effort to raise them to be Jewish, with the understanding that we would also
celebrate Christmas and Easter. That seemed to be a reasonable compromise.
It continued to seem reasonable until we started our family,
and my agreement to participate in Christmas activities was staring me in the
face. I held up my end of the bargain, though, and jumped into it wholeheartedly.
I have to fess up here. I LOVED Christmas! I loved baking and decorating and
gift giving and carols and parties. I had a lot of years to make up for, and I
was going to do my best to measure up, and really, it was so much more fun than
Chanukah, which was a minor holiday anyway.
The guilt, however, was always there. Always. So how did I
move past it? It was a bit of a process. I recognized that for Christians, this
was a holiday celebrating the birth of their savior. That’s a really big deal.
So what’s wrong with celebrating it with them? There wasn’t an invitation-only list
at the door. Anybody could join in. So I decided it was okay for me to do so.
Then when Leah was a baby, I overheard a conversation between
a relative and a priest. (No, it wasn’t after they walked into a bar.) The
priest was told that Leah’s mommy was Jewish, and her daddy was Christian. I
groaned inwardly that this was being said to a priest and dreaded his response,
but without missing a beat, he said, “Then she’s doubly blessed.”
Whaaat? It wasn’t wrong? It wasn’t cheating? I shouldn’t
feel guilty?? Well, that was certainly a different way to look at it. I had
never thought it could in any way be a good thing.
Then I read an article written by a Christian mother with a
Jewish husband, and she said after much of the same difficulties, they realized
they could celebrate the best of both their religions. Again, what language
were these people speaking? The best of both? Where is the guilt in that?
Somewhere along the way, I decided excessive guilt was not healthy,
and I was going to choose to move beyond it. Now you have to remember, I’m
Jewish. Guilt is one of our food groups. This was not a quick and easy decision
to make. I remember telling my mom around this time that I decided I would no
longer participate in parts of my religion that I only did out of guilt. Her
response to me was, “But religion is all about guilt!”
Frankly, my Catholic friends understand this better than anyone.
We joke with each other often about Jews and Catholics being the guilt co-champions.
It amuses me that our religions are so different, but yet in some ways we are
very similar.
But let’s get back to our two-religion household. People
would often say how lucky our kids were to get double the gifts. Let me clarify
this. They did not get double anything. We never wanted it to be about the
stuff. So we decided Christmas would be the gift-giving holiday, and Chanukah
would be the “doing things together” holiday. For eight days, we would attempt
to have family experiences. We actually managed to get in about five or six in most
years. This could be a night of playing games, doing craft projects, baking cookies,
or something like going to a movie or bowling. We didn’t spend a lot of money,
but we did spend real time together.
After a few years, we didn’t have to think about it anymore.
It all came naturally…… so much so, that when people would ask if our mixed
marriage caused any problems, we would say, “Yes! You try living in a
house with a Cardinal fan and a Cub fan!”
Wonderful!
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