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.