Traditions

The title of this post automatically had me thinking of Fiddler on the Roof.

Of course being Jewish - yes that's where I went.

We are an inter-faith couple. Our children are being raised to understand and respect both the Jewish and the Lutheran Faiths. Do we have our bumps? Absolutely.

We had a Pastor and a Rabbi marry us.

Those same two lovey people Baptized and Named our first child.

In two weeks we will be Baptizing our son in my husbands family church.

We host Christmas in this house. Me the born and raised Jewish girl. And there are a lot of people to cook for. But I love it. Every aspect of it. I love that both of our families come together to celebrate. I don't think we are celebrating the holiday as much as we are celebrating being together.

With all that being said, here's where I am going with this.

Today we got our stuff together and went to Church. It was the first time we have gone with both kids. We decided going before the Baptism would help get Peanut in a routine so that she would be okay to sit in church in two weeks.

While I sat there and listened to the Pastor deliver her sermon, I began to reflect on my religious beliefs and upbringing.

We went to services at our previous synagogue  three times a year. Unless there was a Mitzvah to attend. Or a Funeral. Or a Wedding. That was it. We didn't go on the weekend. We attended for the major holidays. There were also dues. A huge sum that covered your dues. That was the way it was. No one questioned it. It happened.

I say previous because we no longer belong to that synagogue. When the Rabbi I had studied with for years - all through middle and high school - refused to acknowledge my wedding to my husband we left.
All because of his religious background.

Which brings me back towards today. Today I sat in the small, but welcoming church. The Pastor talked about upcoming events and who needed prayers said for them. She then began the service. There was a children's sermon, and a sermon for the adults.

She called people by name.

She knew what their ailments were.

What their accomplishments were.

When we left she asked about my parents, by name. It was a heartwarming feeling. Especially since in 6 years she has seen my parents maybe 5 times.

As I sat there and listened she spoke of family and of love and of support and of traditions. At one point I realized I wanted to be more a part of this than my own religion. I already have become more of this Church family.

It upset me.

For about 30 seconds.

Then I realized, I'm not giving up on my own religion. I still want our children to know where they are coming from. I want to teach them all about both of our traditions. But the most important thing I want for them is the feeling of belonging.

I want them to go thru life knowing that there will always be someone there for them if they for some reason can not come to us.

I want them to be able to use good judgment when they have to make decisions.

But most importantly I want them to grow up in a world where they feel challenged, safe and loved.