Lael Ora Chava

A Brief Note to Gerim, Converts to Judaism:

What is your ideal Jewish learning experience?

Nowhere does the Torah say, “Invite your guest to pray”; but it does tell us to offer him food, drink and a bed.

What Are We Really Asking? – a conversion metaphor Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived next to a large family. For many years, the boy had admired them and wished he could be a part of it. Eventually, after much deliberation, he worked up the courage to go over and knock on their door. After a few moments, an older gentleman answered. “Good afternoon, sir,” the boy says. “Likewise. How can I help you?” The boy quelled the butterflies in his stomach and said, “I would like to join your family and live with you. Will you adopt me?” While this might have been unusual for another family, this one had, indeed, taken in others before. The man smiles and says, “You have always been welcome as a guest – surely you’d prefer the hospitality of a guest to the work of being a family member?” “Your hospitality is second to none,” the boy agreed, “but I would prefer the opportunity to offer it instead.” The man nods, and is silent for a moment. The boy does not leave. The man’s smile fades and he says more solemnly, “You know this house has been burned down many times and history is wont to repeat itself.” His eyes stray to a charred, yet still strong beam of timber built into the new foundation. “We’ve rebuilt it every time, but we’ve lost many of our number to this hate. If you join us, you’ll be no safer than we.” It’s not a question. The boy pauses, saying nothing at first. Then he says, “I’ve been your neighbor for many years. Any fire in your household is likely to carry to mine already. Even if I didn’t live with you, I would help you escape, would help you put out the flames, would help you rebuild. We are already connected as neighbors, and the risk is worth it to be a part of this family.” The man smiles again, realizing the boy is completely earnest. Still, he adds, “You know it’s a lot of work to live here. We all have a great many tasks to complete, and everyone is responsible. It is only together that we flourish or fall, so everyone must pull his weight.” At this, the boy brightens. “I know – it’s part of what I admire about your family. I know there’s a lot to learn, but I look forward to being able to help.” The man nods again, and then finally asks, “What draws you to this family, anyway? Besides our labor?” The boy smiles broadly. “I admire how you treat each other and everyone else. I believe as you believe and I wish to live as you live. Most importantly, when I’m here, it feels like coming home. I have left the idols of my father’s house and wish to serve the God of your ancestors as you do.” Satisfied, the man opens the door and invites the boy inside. “As you said, there is quite a lot to learn. And it really is different living with us than being our guest. Why don’t you stay with us as a roomer and apprentice for at least a year? You’ll see us in each season – you’ll learn our customs and how to do the work here, you’ll worship here, eat with us, rest with us, celebrate with us, mourn with us, and have a chance to see us plainly before committing. You do know that once you’re family, you will always be family – even if you no longer wish to be or to do the work anymore?” “I know,” the boy affirms. “And you do know that as a roomer, if at any point in time you decide you’d rather remain our friend and neighbor, you are more than free to do so with no hard feelings?” “I do,” the boy answers, “and I will gladly room with you for a year first.” “Wonderful,” the man grins. “Welcome home.”

Right now at this moment there are Jews preparing for Shabbat. They’re washing their floors. They’re writing their divrei Torah. They’re mentally going over the menu and the guest list, wondering who to seat next to whom to create the most beautiful atmosphere. Right now at this moment there are Jews assiduously demarcating the meat from the milk dishes. The trusty household red nail polish, or blue stickers, or Sharpie, or however they work, emerges.

For the record, I am all about Jews connecting to their heritage. Stretch your limits! Learn about the halakhot, the minhagim, our history, your family recipes, all of it! Try to do whatever you can!