Showing posts with label Atheism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Atheism. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2025

Flirting with Converting

I know exactly when admiration for Jewish culture crossed the line to flirting with converting.

I am a fan of Nellie Bowles’ writing, so I decided to check out what she looked and sounded like. I found an interview with her and her wife, Bari Weiss*, at the American Jewish University. Bari is Jewish; Nellie was not. That had changed, and this interview was about that.

Nellie Bowles
                                                Nellie Bowles

About ten minutes in – when Nellie begins talking explicitly about her conversion – she describes it with such unguarded joy about living as a Jew that I remember thinking maybe I should actually think about this. I then checked out Nellie’s conversion blog, Chosen by Choice – It was all very intriguing and seductive.

At first, it seemed like an odd idea. I was an atheist, after all. Still, I started reading about Reform Judaism, specifically what it required of converts. I assumed belief in God – in the traditional, biblical sense – would be the dealbreaker. What I discovered surprised me. Reform Judaism did not require theological certainty so much as openness: openness to something larger than oneself, to community, to practice, to obligation. I didn’t need to attest to belief in a literal God in the sky – only that I took Judaism and its practices seriously. That cracked the door wide open.

Only later did I learn that the vast majority of Reform Jews are atheists or agnostics in the conventional sense – people who don’t believe in a personal, intervening God but who still find meaning, structure, and moral grounding in Jewish life. Many of these people do believe in some form of higher power, of course. Only about 20% are skeptical of anything spiritual at all.  Of course, secular Jews with no religious affiliation are overwhelming atheists.

Once the idea lodged itself in my brain, it didn’t let go. I talked to Jean, a Jewish friend from a national online group I participated in, who immediately and continuously encouraged me. 


Jean

Then I called my dear friend Lynn, who had converted in her twenties. Her conversion had been connected to marriage, but even after that marriage ended, she remained Jewish in thought, if not always in practice. She said that the Orthodox Rabbi asked her view about God and she said “I have my doubts.” He responded - “Great, you are a Jew!”  It seemed… doable. Not effortless, but manageable.  

Lynn

I spoke with another friend, Linda, who had also converted – not because her husband asked her, but because she wanted to. Like Nellie, she had chosen Judaism for herself. Every conversation nudged me further along.

Linda

Many people assumed I was converting because of my wife. In fact, she isn’t Jewish. She’s also a firm atheist and wants no part of anything that might imply belief in God. When I finally told her I was thinking about conversion, she was surprised – but not unsettled. She knows me. She understands what drives me. While she had no interest in conversion herself, she has been consistently supportive in practical, lived ways – joining me for Friday-night candles, sharing rituals, and treating what I’m doing as something real and worth her time. That kind of support, given without sharing the belief system, has made all the difference. I wouldn't have done it without her support.

Leslie

I talked next to an old secular Jewish friend, Harry, who was equally encouraging. Looking back, it’s striking that among all the people I initially consulted, only one was even close to what might be called a “practicing” Jew. Still, the encouragement was unanimous.

Harry

So I took a concrete step. I told a friend who was deeply involved in our local temple that I was considering conversion and asked whether non-Jews could serve on committees. I have a background in facilities and maintenance, and I thought I could be useful even if I never converted. He said yes – and I joined the Buildings & Grounds Committee that very day. He suggested that the next step was to talk with Rabbi Shifra.

Rabbi Shifra

When I contacted her, she was clear and refreshingly direct. Study mattered, she said, and she recommended books and classes. But practice mattered just as much–maybe more. Judaism isn’t something you evaluate from a distance. I needed to be present. To participate. To see whether the community was right for me, and whether I was right for it.

I told her I’d already joined Buildings & Grounds.

I was on the road and never turned back.



*  Bari Weiss is a controversial figure and is often portrayed as hard-right or pro-Trump, particularly in recent commentary. That characterization does not match my own reading of her work. While she is clearly center-right and outspoken about free speech and institutional norms, she has been consistently critical of Trump’s character, even while emphasizing respect for the presidency as an office. I’m a subscriber to The Free Press and find the caricature unconvincing.

None of this should be taken to reflect on Nellie Bowles, who is very much her own writer with her own politics. Nellie is a singularly funny and sharp columnist who skewers both left and right with equal enthusiasm in her weekly TGIF column in The Free Press, which I recommend without reservation.




Wednesday, June 18, 2025

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?