Spirituality
INTERFAITH
Coming Home
Intermarriage
Black shul courts Jewish community.
How confusing is it for the kids?
Ann Arbor
Ben Harris
Jewish Telegraphic Agency
New York
R
abbi Capers Funnye, spiritual
leader of Beth Shalom B'nai Zaken
Ethiopian Hebrew Congregation
in Chicago, wants you to know that he likes
gefilte fish — a lot.
"I love if,' he said. "I love lox. I love
borscht. Some of my congregants don't even
know what borscht is"
Funnye's congregants are predominantly
African Americans from the South Side of
Chicago, so perhaps that's no surprise. But
while gefilte fish won't be debuting anytime
soon at the kiddush at Beth Shalom, the
rabbi is bringing his congregants closer to
the broader Chicago Jewish community in
ways most of his African-American rab-
binical colleagues have not yet dared.
"I have made it my point, on a personal
level, to involve myself in the Jewish corn-
munity',' Funnye said.
"I've worked for Jewish
organizations. I've gradu-
ated from Jewish institu-
tions. My children went to
Jewish day school."
Black Jewish congrega- — Rabbi Funnye
lions — most prefer to
be called "Hebrews" or
"Israelites" — have existed in the United
States since the first decades of the 20th
century, but they generally have remained
apart from the broader Jewish community.
In part, the divide is a legacy of segrega-
tion that still separates black and white
churches, as well as synagogues. It also
stems from what Gary Tobin, president of
the Institute for Jewish and Community
Research, describes as the Jewish commu-
nity's "obsessively silly" preoccupation with
who qualifies as a Jew.
The problem is exacerbated by the belief,
central to the black-Jewish narrative, that
the original Jews were Africans. Like other
African Americans who have embraced
non-Christian faiths, black Jews see in
Judaism a means to recapture a heritage
denied them by the slave trade — a fact
that likely explains their great affinity for
the story of Exodus. As a result, some are
reluctant to undergo conversion or other-
wise take steps that might promote greater
acceptance by the white Ashkenazi majority
for fear it would undermine their claims to
be of Jewish descent.
Funnye is one of the few Jews, black or
white, working actively to bridge the racial
divide among Jews. He is believed to be the
only black rabbi in the country to serve on
his local board of rabbis, and he cooperates
with a number of Jewish communal insti-
tutions, including Tobin's institute, where
he is a research associate. He encourages
exchanges between his congregation and
mainstream synagogues in Chicago's north-
ern suburbs.
Funnye was ordained at the Israelite
Rabbinical Academy in New York, where all
black Israelite rabbis are trained.
"What's interesting about Capers is that
he bridges the world between white, nor-
mative mainstream Judaism in the United
States); Tobin said."He's unique, which is
unfortunate'
Funnye's acceptance by the broader
Jewish community was made possible in
part by his willingness to undergo a formal.
conversion — or "reversion" as he likes
to say — with a mixed rabbinic court of
Orthodox and Conservative
rabbis in 1985.
All newcomers to Beth
Shalom are required to do
the same, including immer-
sion in a mikvah and, for
men, a ritual drawing of
blood to symbolize the cov-
enant of brit milah. For men
who are not circumcised, Funnye makes
them undergo the full procedure, conducted
under anesthetic with the assistance of an
Orthodox urologist. He estimates that he
has converted 40 members of his congrega-
tion.
"If they came here to this congregation
under my leadership and under my tute-
lage, then they had to go through the 'stan-
dard halachic precepts' for one to be a Jew','
Funnye said. "But that does not diminish
our understanding that Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob were Jews of color."
Services at Beth Shalom would be famil-
iar to any shul-goer. The full Torah portion
is read in Hebrew from a scroll. Prayers
are chanted mostly in English from the
Artscroll siddur, a widely used Orthodox
prayerbook.
But the congregation also maintains tra-
ditions uniquely their own that are deeply
colored by the African-American experi-
ence. After the Torah service, a Gospel-style
choir takes the stage and — accompanied
by a CD and live drums and guitar.
"I love lox.
I love borscht."
A22
January 10 • 2008x
jN
❑
R
ecently, I was delighted to
moderate a discussion panel
devoted to navigating the hol-
idays in an interfaith family at Temple
Beth Emeth in Ann Arbor. Our panel
consisted of a young intermarried
couple, Jewish parents of an intermar-
ried couple, a Christian parent of an
intermarried couple, a parent who was
a Jew-by-choice, an adult child of an
interfaith family and Rabbi Bob Levy.
Of course, we talked at length about
the December dilemma and Easter/
Passover issues. However, the
one question that people in
the audience kept raising was
whether or not the children of
these interfaith families ever
got confused about their reli-
gious identities.
As we discussed this "con-
fusion issue it struck me as
to how strongly the families
actually had instilled a Jewish
image into their children.
All of them answered rather
confidently that the children
(or grandchildren) knew
very well that they were Jewish. The
adult child of the interfaith family had
actually grown up to become a Jewish
educator.
We even had an interfaith couple
in the audience say how they were
raising their children as Jews, but cel-
ebrated Christmas, as was the custom
in their native Sweden. That mother
recently asked her son if he felt that
they should pay more attention to
the Christian holidays. His response:
"Why would I want to do that? I'm a
Jewish boy"
Rabbi Levy commented that the
whole "confusion argument" really
began as a way to dissuade people
from intermarrying. Unfortunately,
many people incorrectly associate
intermarrying with automatically rais-
ing the children in both religions.
As a young interfaith couple, fresh
into our engagement, my future wife
and I had heard about the studies that
indicated that children raised "both"
ended up "neither." Given that informa-
tion, and after a lot of compromise and
soul searching, we decided to raise our
kids solely in her religion of Judaism.
The interfaith families on the panel
and in the audience also had made the
same commitment to bring up their
children Jewish. These children really
seemed to grasp that they were Jewish
and not a mixture of something in
between. The families were even able
to incorporate other-faith observances
into their homes without losing the
overall Jewish message that they want-
ed to convey to their children.
During the discussion, we learned
that there were many different
approaches to raising an interfaith
family. We heard about one family
where the parents actually wrote out
a step-by-step game
plan on how they would
live their interfaith life.
Another family really did
not plan at all.
What did these two
homes have in common?
Consistency. Whether the
family was methodical in
its approach or not, they
lived Jewishly through-
out the year. As a result,
the parents were able to
bestow Jewish cultural
and religious identities
upon their children — even when
Christian elements entered the home
from time to time.
In my family, we believe that just
because we are an interfaith family,
it doesn't mean we have to steril-
ize the house of one of our religions.
When my children recognize that I am
Christian and help me celebrate my
holidays, it doesn't confuse them.
As the panel at the seminar dis-
cussed _the difficulties that can arise
during the holidays, it became clear
that there was one common theme: It's
how you raise your children as Jews
— all year round — that really drives
home their identity.
Give your children consistent mes-
sages about their religion throughout
the year and the issues that arise dur-
ing the holidays will not be hurdles,
but details. ❑
Jim Keen is a freelance writer and col-
umnist for InterfaithFamily.com. He is the
author of Inside Intermarriage: A Christian
Partner's Perspective on Raising a Jewish
Family (URJ Press). His e-mail address is:
jckeen@umich.edu.