I completed my conversion to Judaism yesterday. When I returned home from the Mikveh, one of the things I told my (non-Jewish) husband in long and heartfelt conversation was this: if anything happens to me, you call my shul. They will take care of things, and they will tell you what you need to do - and they will also take care of you.
I have never told this to a soul, but I (raised a Roman Catholic) have thought all my life about converting to Judaism. One reason is that Jews understand rite and ritual. It is that and nothing else (i.e. a mystical power) and it is psychologically very useful. This essay about your grandmother is a perfect example. I waited for the coroners when my father died and walked with his body out to their car. I was not disturbed by them packing him up as I am a doctor and have seen worse. But I just felt he should not go through this alone (whether or not "he" was there at all was insignificant).
Along with this there is the emphasis on community and good mental health practices such as shabbot. Technically although you mention the bereaved, you are not supposed to mourn because it is a time to rest and celebrate life. How wonderful to have a weekly time set aside for this.
I also like the singular focus on G-D. The salvation narrative in Christianity has always been a source of intense confusion for me. But sadly, so is the chosen people narrative. Consequently I remain a man without a country. The Bhagavad Gita says in the end that we all must find our own dharma (teaching or truth). Perhaps that is everyone's journey.
I have so much more to discuss about this. Thanks for starting this blog. I will read on.
I know the conventional wisdom has rasied questions about the legitimacy of people who convert for love as a sign of their willingness to embark on a fully shared life journey with spouse or partner. But a Jew is not identified as much by theology or belief as by his or her or their participation in a community. This idea becomes central in Jewish mourning traditions when the house of the mourner is sanctified by a minyan so that the kaddish can be recited. Kaddish is a prayer that relies on the community to respond by saying Amen to the mourner's acknowledgement of a power higher than those of us dwelling on earth.
I completed my conversion to Judaism yesterday. When I returned home from the Mikveh, one of the things I told my (non-Jewish) husband in long and heartfelt conversation was this: if anything happens to me, you call my shul. They will take care of things, and they will tell you what you need to do - and they will also take care of you.
I have never told this to a soul, but I (raised a Roman Catholic) have thought all my life about converting to Judaism. One reason is that Jews understand rite and ritual. It is that and nothing else (i.e. a mystical power) and it is psychologically very useful. This essay about your grandmother is a perfect example. I waited for the coroners when my father died and walked with his body out to their car. I was not disturbed by them packing him up as I am a doctor and have seen worse. But I just felt he should not go through this alone (whether or not "he" was there at all was insignificant).
Along with this there is the emphasis on community and good mental health practices such as shabbot. Technically although you mention the bereaved, you are not supposed to mourn because it is a time to rest and celebrate life. How wonderful to have a weekly time set aside for this.
I also like the singular focus on G-D. The salvation narrative in Christianity has always been a source of intense confusion for me. But sadly, so is the chosen people narrative. Consequently I remain a man without a country. The Bhagavad Gita says in the end that we all must find our own dharma (teaching or truth). Perhaps that is everyone's journey.
I have so much more to discuss about this. Thanks for starting this blog. I will read on.
I know the conventional wisdom has rasied questions about the legitimacy of people who convert for love as a sign of their willingness to embark on a fully shared life journey with spouse or partner. But a Jew is not identified as much by theology or belief as by his or her or their participation in a community. This idea becomes central in Jewish mourning traditions when the house of the mourner is sanctified by a minyan so that the kaddish can be recited. Kaddish is a prayer that relies on the community to respond by saying Amen to the mourner's acknowledgement of a power higher than those of us dwelling on earth.
I love these Jewish customs and beliefs. I can see why one would want to adopt them.