Writing about this aspect of my life came together in a Life Stories Class taught by Dana Perry at the St Charles Cancer Center.
Her Conversion; My Immersion by Oralee Stiles Hamilton
As a Protestant, I knew very little about Judaism during my growing years. I dated a Jewish boy, Roger, in high school. We were very attracted to each other and decided it would be best if we broke up because we knew neither set of parents would accept marriage between Jews and Christians. He still holds a corner in my heart.
It was my own daughter’s conversion that brought about my immersion in Judaism. At 14, Alisa found the book, To Be a Jew, in her high school library. That book changed my life because of its impact on her. Through her increasing interest in Judaism with serious and humorous attempts to follow Jewish practices, I was exposed to more and more of Jewish life over the next 38 years. In the beginning I did not think her interest would last. So I was happy she was exploring a God centered religion and she would learn about the Old Testament.
Little did I know how deeply I would be impacted by my growing knowledge of Orthodox Judaism as she became more observant. She studied in an Israeli Yeshiva- a Jewish school for Torah studies. I traveled to Israel so she could show me what had become so important to her. Rather than finish high school in Portland, she continued studies in Israel. I worried about her becoming an Israeli citizen. I discovered she could have dual citizenship. The relief I felt didn’t last long.
“You are planning to do what?!” I shouted into the phone. I had to sit down. I had been so thankful when I had two girls. Because of my father’s experience in World War II, I didn’t think I could handle having a son go off to war. Now Aliza is telling me she plans to join the Israeli army! Not the US Army. NO, the Israeli army! What was I to do? My body reacted to this stress. I found lumps in my breast. Thank goodness they were benign. It was a warning to work on my emotional stress. “Think of it as the Peace Corps,” she said. “Hardly” I thought. She learned how to take orders, shoot and clean a gun, cook for 200 people, and live with the customs of the Middle East. I learned to accept my child’s path was not my own, to live with fear and to stop reading the newspaper. She met her husband when he visited Jerusalem. I was thankful he was not Israeli.
My first experience with an Orthodox Jewish wedding was as the mother of the bride. I knew none of the customs and there are many! I turned to the New York mother of the groom for help. She guided me through it. I was a stranger in a strange land. “Keep breathing, keep learning” became my mantra.
Shana, my other daughter loves the Hispanic culture When she married a man from Mexico, I was afraid my grandchildren would speak Spanish or Hebrew and I wouldn’t understand any of them. My Jewish grandchildren tried to teach me Hebrew while Shana tried to teach me Spanish. All gave up on me. I just do not have a brain chip for other languages.
During my trips to Long Beach, New York for 16 years to care for babies when another was born, I learned hundreds of rules about buying and preparing kosher food, managing a kosher kitchen and keeping the Sabbath plus rules for modest dress. My wardrobe changed – longer skirts (no slacks), tops that covered my collarbone with sleeves past my elbows.
I took on the Jewish practices when I was in their home and community. I went to the synagogue and read the English page facing the Hebrew readings. I experienced being honored by my daughter who stood when I entered the kitchen for breakfast. I witnessed people standing when rabbis and elders entered the room. I saw Aliza honor her husband by standing and greeting him as soon as he came home. Now I follow this practice with my new husband and I stand in the doctor’s office when the doctor enters the room.
I was pleased when Aliza told people I knew more about keeping kosher than most Jews. My daughter trusted me to care for my grandchildren because I knew how to be Sabbath observant, keep kosher and carefully follow the commandments. Her friends trusted me with their children and I feel blessed to be so accepted. Some of these children assumed I was Jewish and were shocked when they discovered I wasn’t.
After three summers in an Orthodox Jewish bungalow colony in the Catskills of New York, where I was called Bubbe Bulow, I had a sense of how assimilation takes place. I was the only non-Jew among 40 orthodox families living in tiny cabins in a fenced in area. Many of the husbands were rabbis who taught in Jewish schools. The families had 4 to 14 children. The married women all wore head coverings – scarves, hats or wigs. I began to feel I should cover my head. I was not married so even if I had been a Jew, it was not required. I realized that I was taking on some of the prejudices and attitudes of these observant Jews about non-observant Jews. I remembered when I was a high school exchange student to Greece, I returned to the States with the Greek prejudice of the Turks.
My graduate work at the University of Minnesota in anthropology helped me be a “participant observer” of this cultural group. I was intrigued by the many subgroups within Orthodox Judaism – some spoke Yiddish, followed different rabbis, had different dress codes, originated from different parts of Russia or Eastern Europe. I realized that all religious groups that are viewed as a monolithic group from the outside, have many sub-groups inside. They do not all get along, either.
There are many rules about “guarding one’s tongue” or “Lashon Hora” which translates as “evil tongue” – basically gossiping with many nuances- for example, a raised eyebrow and look at another person, when someone is speaking. I learned some of the rules in classes at the bungalow colony. I saw how important these rules and insights are especially for a tight community. I taught many of the principles to my women’s groups in Portland. My grandchildren understand Lashon Hora and we can refer to it especially when there is a violation. I learned one can tell stories as examples without using the involved person’s name. I have summaries of some of the principles on my refrigerator door and filing cabinet. The principles guide me today.
My immersion in Judaism has helped me immensely in understanding more about Christianity. Jesus was a Jew. The times he did not follow the rules stand out for me because I know the rule he reinterpreted. An example is his healing on the Sabbath or gathering food on the Sabbath. I can understand how this is difficult for Jews.
The fourth of the Ten Commandments is “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” Jews rely on the oral law and Rabbis to instruct them on how to keep the Sabbath which begins at sun down on Friday and ends an hour after sun down on Saturday. It does not include healing or gathering food. Christians have no Bible guidelines other than it is a day of rest following God’s six-day work of creation. In my growing years my family kept the Sabbath on Sunday. It was a day for church, a delicious Sunday dinner, and an afternoon of leisure. No one worked or shopped on Sunday. All the stores were closed.
In my married years this was lost. The week was for paid work, the weekend was for housework, yard work and shopping (stores were now open on Sunday). Who could afford to take a day of rest? However, as a result of experiencing the Sabbath in Aliza’s home, I learned how important the rules were to maintain Friday evening and Saturday as the Sabbath. My son-in-law told me the prohibition of driving and use of electricity were the two rules that kept the day very different for him. While their rules did not work for me in my cultural environment, I did begin to keep Sunday as a special day separate from the rest of the week. I continue to keep Sunday as a day for worship services, being with friends, reading and napping, and setting aside any work responsibilities. I do not use my computer, shop, do house or yard work. While keeping the Sunday Sabbath has added to the quality of my life, it is often a challenge to do it on my own. I understand the importance and beauty of doing it in a community where everyone sets the day apart.
My granddaughters’ dating practices were very different from mine. They did not date until they were ready to marry. A matchmaker and their mother look for suitable men and set up a date. I see the wisdom in this practice of careful selection. When my oldest granddaughter was despairing about finding a husband, I decided to be a companion and put myself in the same situation of looking for a suitable mate. I chose eHarmony as my matchmaker. We groaned together about how hard it was to meet men on a first date. Eventually we both got married. She was first. Her husband was found by her mother. Mine found me- a long ago friend. I was an honored grandmother at her wedding. My granddaughters were my bridal attendants. One even talked me into wearing her gorgeous white lacy bridal gown!!
My world has been so enlarged and enriched by this Jewish immersion. I understand references to Jewish life in books, movies and jokes. In airports and on city streets when I see people dressed like observant Jews, I feel a kinship with them. Looking at me they would not know that I know about their world and respect them and their practices. I feel an urge to cross the divide.
On one of my visits to New York after all six of my grandchildren had been born, Uriel called to me, “Grandma Oralee, the phone is for you.” The voice on the other end said, “Grandma Oralee?” It was Roger, my high school boyfriend!! His brother lived on Long Island and met some mutual acquaintances of my Jewish family. He gave Roger, now living in Texas, their phone number. Roger and I reminisced about the 43 years since our high school romance. We talked about our lives, marriages and children. At the end of the long conversation, Roger laughingly exclaimed, “Good grief! Oralee, you’re more Jewish than I am!”
October 2016