Michael el Chayil

There is a requirement to have 10 Jewish men who have attained maturity (ie, bar mitzvah) in order to be allowed to say certain prayers.  Everyone knows that, but too often we do not feel both the privilege and responsibility of that fact. Our shul started in the home of  Rabbi Aryeh Rodin a bit more than 20 years ago; around September of 1987.  He started it by looking for at the zip code map and choosing the region that had the most Jews.  Then he moved into the neighborhood and starting knocking on doors with mezuzahs and asking them to attend an Orthodox minyan, maybe learn something more about Orthodox Judaism, etc.  The response was... well.... slow.  We moved into the neighborhood in the beginning of 1990.  By that time, Ohev Shalom ("Where Jews of All Backgrounds Feel At Home"), had taken up residence in a second floor storefront at the back of a small shopping center in the north part of Dallas (pretty much as far north as you could get and s...

I have been talking a lot about the underlying outlook and philosophical changes that comes with moving toward an orthodox Jewish lifestyle, but actually "walking the talk" comes with its own challenges.  Moreover, there is a wide chasm between the path of a Jew who is moving toward more mitzvah observance and that of a (potential) convert.  A Jew who grew up in a non-religious home has plenty of good and real excuses for current his lack of observance.  Moving toward a more observant lifestyle should be executed with measured steps and is best done with rabbinic guidance.  Each new step is itself an accomplishment to be celebrated; there is no reason to move too quickly.  In fact, it is better to move slowly and steadily than to take on too much and back slide. A goy who wants to convert, on the other hand, cannot take small steps.  It is all or nothing; if the aspiring convert "slips back", nothing is really lost since he had no obligation in the first pl...

Just to recap: For years I had been living a much more "Jewish" lifestyle (kosher, Shabbos, and holidays, regular shul attendance) than any of my family or friends. I had embarrassed my dad at restaurants by asking to read the labels before eating the food. I had disrupted family outings because of Shabbos. I had modified vacation plans to work around the holidays. And now, after all that, I had just found out that I wasn't even Jewish. My friends and family, who had put up with my "idiosyncrasies" for years were dumbfounded. I was often the sole voice of Jewish observance, and now it turned out that I was also the sole goy. I think "irony" must be HaShem's middle name. While the irony was not lost on me, I wasn't really laughing at that point. And my friends and family just took it is (additional) proof that I was totally off my rocker on this subject. Their logic was simple (and oft repeated), "You act more Jewish than any of ...

Before continuing with the narrative, I'd like to reflect a bit on what had just happened. I had grown up believing I was Jewish. I had often done a show and tell about Judaism in school, usually around Chanuka time. The teachers made a point of allowing me to work on "winter holiday" projects according to my (ie, the Jewish) calendar. I always knew I would only marry a Jewish girl and rear a Jewish family. I now had my children enrolled in a Jewish school and going to an authentic, Orthodox Jewish synagogue. And now I wasn't Jewish. I didn't buy into the whole "only the orthodox won't accept you" nonsense. I had grown up believing I was Jewish and being proud of being Jewish and making a point of letting others know that I was Jewish. And now I wasn't Jewish. It goes without saying that this was a blow to how I viewed myself and who I was. That, in fact, is an issue with which I struggle even now. But this was absolutely the death kne...

The blame for this next step up in observance lays squarely on my wife's shoulders (hi, honey!). One small step in education, one giant leap in hashkafa (outlook). When my oldest daughter was about to start 2nd grade, my job moved us to Dallas, Texas. I was working on the Superconducting Super Collider (RIP) project, and it had finally been decided to locate the lab south of Dallas. It just so happened (yeah, right...) that my wife mentioned the impending move to Dallas at a Sisterhood function and one of the lady's there just happened to have a sister in Dallas who just happened to be visiting for Thanksgiving. That sister called my wife to tell her about the Dallas Jewish community and to invite us for a Shabbos when we came down to look for a house. It came up that there was a Jewish day school in Dallas; then and there my wife decided we needed to take our children out of public school and take advantage of having a Jewish day school for them. Her decision was largely...

Life after that first conversion was not much different quantitatively, but there had been a shift in direction. I had been forced to choose to be Jewish, and I would never again take my Jewishness for granted. I wouldn't say that it was constantly on my mind, but it was certainly always at the back of my mind. A lot happened in our personal lives over those next few years. We had to find a level of observance that was comfortable and livable. Comfortable regarding how are personal level of commitment jived with our actions. Livable regarding balancing both our level of commitment as individuals and our commitment as a couple. There was also the commitment to each other. I think last component is not always given the attention is needs. We tried to make everything we did a mutual decision. For example, for a long time we kept kosher in the house but ate out in restaurants. At this point I want to stress that I am not making any recommendations; I am simply recording what w...

Our second wedding was really a very small affair. On the other hand, it had the fanciest k'suva (you are welcome to see it if you like). Besides being fancy, it has two cute deficiencies. First, one of the witnesses is a woman; which renders it pusul. Even better though... it has the wrong date on it! In the Rabbi's office I mentioned that Debbie and I would probably always be arguing about which anniversary to celebrate, the first wedding or this one. "No problem", said one of the authorities present, "we'll just date it Aug 7; it doesn't really matter anyway." How right he was; I should have realized something was wrong at that point. Oh well...

I never really did convince the Rabbi that I needed a real conversion, but I did have the support of the (Conservative Jewish) cantor, a few other friends, and my wife. So now all I needed was to "do the deed", so to speak. A real conversion requires three things for a man (two, as will be obvious, of a woman). Acceptance of the mitzvos in front of a Bais Din (Jewish Tribunal) Mikveh (Ritual Immersion) Bris Mila (circumcision for the sake of being Jewish) or (if one is already circumcised) Hatafas Dam (literally, "a drop of blood" We all decided that the acceptance of mitvos part was taken care of my by Bar Mitzvah. We only needed mikveh and hatafas dam. In case it wasn't obvious, by the way, not any drop of blood would do; it had to be blood from the same place it would come in case of a full circumcision. Of course, being as this was Salt Lake City we had neither mohel nor mikveh. But we did have a Jewish urologist who did all the circumcisions for bris ...

In Salt Lake City we made a lot of friends and had a very positive experience with the Jewish community. I started teaching sunday school (7th grade; and found out I am not good with middle-schoolers). My wife became a "kosher cop" of sorts. She would go to various establishments and verify that they used only kosher ingredients and therefore could be used at the synagogue. We went to adult education classes in making Shabbat. We helped organize events for Jewish students at the university. We went to services every Friday night and Saturday morning. I also went most Sundays, Mondays, and Thursdays; and I bought my first pair of t'fillin. Basically, we were enjoying being active members of our synagogue and the Jewish community. We also learned how to make a Jewish home by spending times with Jews in their homes... especially Shabbos and holidays. One of those Friday nights out (we drove on Shabbos in those days) while discussing our family history, I mentioned ...

There is a memorial just outside of Salt Lake City called the "This is the Place" Monument. I thought, "Cool! They have a sense of humor about their religion." Thus began my education about living in Utah. They were serious. Brigham Young had woken up from a fever long enough to say the very deeply inspiring and wise words (note sarcasm), "This is the place"... and they had memorialized! They didn't even try to make it sound better. Good grief. Thus began my education about religion outside of California. Namely, some people honestly took their religious beliefs seriously! I was shocked. I'd grown up in California... you could be different religions and it was no more important that wearing different styles or enjoying different cuisine. But here, in Salt Lake City, people actually took their beliefs seriously. In fact, everyone took their beliefs and/or non-beliefs seriously. Religion was so "in your face" that no one could...

Since you have just seen one example and because you'll see a lot more, I wanted to emphasize that my wife, our children, our friends, and I did not progress at the same rate. While reading the last entry, my wife was pleased with the way our differences were portrayed and emphasized to me that the differences need to continue to be portrayed. That is also part of the journey. It is very common for a married couple to move at different rates in their acceptance and embracing of new ideas and behaviors. Part of any good marriage is personal and mutual growth. I am sure that is obvious. What may be less obvious is the special challenge of religious growth -- especially in modern western civilization where everything *except* religion has value. All the more so "organized" religion. Moreover, Orthodox/Torah Judaism has a world view which is totally at odds with the prevailing culture. So I will do my best to present how we handled those difference; both as encourageme...

This goes into the hall of fame for famous last words. This was when my wife first realized that what she thought of as my weird sense of humor might have a darker side. Here's what led up to that statement: We had just arrived in Salt Lake City and were moving into our apartment in married student housing. I was emptying out our ice chest to the refrigerator... and tossing out the cold cuts we had brought for our two day drive across Nevada and Utah from South Lake Tahoe. "What are you doing?", she asked me; a bit incredulous. "We decided to start keeping kosher when we got to Salt Lake City, remember?" "I thought you were kidding." Ok... let me fill in a few details of how we went from that first seder to Salt Lake City. (Salt Lake City?!? UTAH??? Uh.... yes.) After that seder I knew I was not Reform, but I didn't know what I yes was. I figured I must be Conservative. Truth be told, I had leanings in that direction anyway. The synago...

Our first seder after getting married. One bedroom apartment in married student housing, us and four guests: a Catholic friend from grad school and his fiance (also Catholic, of course), and a Jewish friend with his "significant other" ( not Jewish, of course). We got the good hard-cover Union haggadas and had just finished the whole thing. Said all the text, sang all the songs (as best as we could...), and gotten all the way to the back hard cover. No plagues. No allusion to plagues. We had a JPS bible that my wife had gotten for her Bat Mitzvah. I found my way to the book of Exodus, then to the the Moses meeting with Pharoh. "Yes! Look! Plagues. I knew there were plagues." In retrospect, I realize that that was the beginning for me; the first step on the journey that let to where I am today. I'd grown up nominally reform. That is, at home we lit chanuka candles, didn't have a christmas tree. At my (paternal) grandparents house we had a passov...

So say our sages. What is the difference between this and "the longest journey starts with a single step"? The problem with that statement is that small journeys, even accidental journeys also start with a single step. When our sages tell us that "all beginnings are difficult"... they also mean to tell us that if it is not difficult, then it is not a beginning. This should not be disheartening... rather encouraging; for when you want to really start something there are always road blocks. Road blocks should not, therefore, make you feel like "this is a sign that I shouldn't be doing this." Exactly the opposite, those road blocks may indeed be a sign... a sign that you are embarking on something important and real. It is with this in mind that I am beginning to write how I went from agnostic/atheist scientist to ultra-orthodox (jewish) scientist. It didn't happen over night.... more like 30 years and counting. There were times of big changes...