What Are the Odds? A Conversion Coincidence

A coincidence related to my conversion was just revealed to me — and it blew my mind.

But first, some backdrop.

I’ve been an atheist pretty much since I was five years old. I rejected religion early — especially Christianity and its “accept Jesus or rot in hell” message. Rationality has always been central for me. The scientific method has always felt like the path to truth.

So how did I end up converting to Judaism?

It started twenty-four years ago, at my nephew Mark’s bar mitzvah. Mark is the son of my brother Russ (a convert himself) and my sister-in-law Tobae. After reading his Torah portion, Mark delivered his d’var Torah — a short commentary on it — and included the fact that he didn’t believe in God. There were no gasps or dirty looks. Instead, at the reception, people praised him for his independent thought.

That would never have happened in any Christian church I knew. I remember thinking: Wow, this is a much better religion. A tiny seed was planted that day. I thought — and often said ever since — that if I were ever religious, I’d want to be a Reform Jew.

How that seed finally sprouted is really the focus of much of this blog (see below for more).

When I first met Rabbi Shifra — we planned a walk along West Cliff with our dogs — I told her about Mark’s bar mitzvah. That it was the moment that made me see Judaism in a different light.

After my last blog post, my sister-in-law emailed me:

“I read your blog last night and noticed your rabbi’s full name. Shifra Penzias was the rabbi who tutored Mark for his bar mitzvah and officiated at his ceremony. Our congregation was between rabbis at the time — I can’t remember how we found her, but she was wonderful. She let Mark give his d’var Torah about not believing in God. You were there — you’ve actually met her before!”

Rabbi Shifra and Mark McDuff at his Bar Mitzvah

Rabbi Shifra today

Mark’s bar mitzvah was 24 years ago, at Temple Beth Or in Everett, Washington. 

Even if that were the whole story, it would be a striking coincidence. But here’s the part that stuns me: she gave Mark the freedom to say exactly what he believed. And that moment quietly changed my life. What if they’d found another rabbi who shut him down? Without that one moment, the whole chain of events leading me to Judaism might never have happened.

And now, all these years later, the rabbi who unknowingly planted that seed turned out to be the same one who helped me begin anew? When I found out, I didn't just think “Wow, what are the odds”?  — a large does of adrenaline coursed through my body, and I became totally hyper. Before I even thought it through, my body trumped rational thought: this felt more than just random. 

And other salient factor. At the time of Mark's conversion, Rabbi Shifra wasn't yet married to her husband Peter. That happened a couple of months later. She chose to hyphenate her name.  If she had not, Tobae would have never noticed that she was the same rabbi.

I’d read once, in my Union of Reform Judaism class on Judaism, this line from Rabbi Kari Tuling: “If you believe in miracles, then miracles can happen in your life. And if you do not, then they do not.” For most of my life, I’d only allowed “coincidences.” But lately, I’ve cracked the door open — just a bit — to the idea that maybe some things can feel miraculous, if I let them.

Rationally, I know this was just an improbable coincidence. But even I have to admit: it feels like something more. It’s downright Hollywood.

Just chance? Fate? A little miracle? What do you think?

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The Future of This Blog

Just know: this is mostly an exercise for myself. You’re invited to read along if you’re curious — and I promise to try to make it entertaining if you do. (For myself as much as for you — if I’m going to reread something I’ve written, it better be worth my time.) You can follow along as I post, or just wait a year and binge whatever looks interesting later. There will be a clear index of topics — because of course there will be.

I’ve been taking notes ever since I decided to explore conversion. My plan was to blog about it while it happened. Obviously, that didn’t happen. So instead, I’m going to go back and write about the two threads that led me here: my search for a particular kind of community, and my moral and ethical growth over the years. Then, of course, why Judaism became the meeting point for both.

Key ingredients you can expect: how LSD played a role; how my love of Wagner’s music and Groundhog Day were instrumental; and how Everything Everywhere All at Once was the final push toward conversion. You know — the usual conversion stuff. (This section will be under the heading Genesis. Obviously.)

I’ll also tackle the big question: how did a dyed-in-the-wool atheist end up seeing so much value in Judaism that I was willing to let go of what had been a core part of my identity? To my beloved atheist friends: don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned you. I’m just making a little more room for doubt — not about the Biblical God (honestly, I often curse him as I read the Torah — and yes, he’s definitely a dude) — but about the unknowable. I’m trying to be a bit more humble, a bit less dismissive. Very Jewish of me. 

And yes, I’ll explain why that’s “very Jewish of me.” Because honestly, it’s a great religion — or religion/culture hybrid. The Reform version keeps the best parts of Judaism (which are truly wonderful) and encourages you to work out your own relationship with the challenging parts. Basically, you’re expected to think for yourself. And there’s that seed again: Mark was encouraged to say what he really believed at his bar mitzvah. That’s what I love about Judaism — questions aren’t discouraged; they’re expected. So you’ll probably learn a few things about Judaism you didn’t know — including, I suspect, some of my Jewish friends.

Along the way, there will be plenty of irreverent posts about the things I find funny in Judaism, my reappraisal of Christianity, and how it all ties back to human nature — which has been one of my obsessions for decades.

That’s the plan.

The first post in “Genesis” will be about how the opera Carmen at the San Francisco Opera House on October 20, 1991 kick-started the moral journey that eventually led me to Judaism. (Well, LSD was involved — that’ll be a theme.) Fittingly, the opera is about fate — but that’s just a coincidence. So is the fact that the tragic Oakland fire started that same day — I only know the exact date because of it.