I am a Jewish man interested in marrying a Jewish woman. I often ask women why they want to be with someone Jewish and they tell me it would be "easier" or it would make their mothers happy. These to me don't seem like good enough reasons. My reasons are strongly tied to character traits, mainly accountability, that I associate with Jews. What I wondered was what do you consider the biggest and most tangible problems with interfaith marriages?
Full chapters have been written by many inspired authors about the reasons that Jews should marry Jews, while other authors have devoted full books to the subject. There is so much to write and to say on this subject, and this Forum necessarily cannot accommodate all of it because of space practicalities. But you have asked such an important question that deserves to be addressed and explained in every conceivable Forum frequented by Jews who care about being Jewish. So I will do my best within the necessary logistical limitations of this online Forum.
Many of us typically are attracted to people based on their external features: their faces, their figures, their teeth, their wallets, their financial prospects. Some are attracted to people who simply make us feel good about ourselves — they admire us, compliment us, seem interested in what we have to say, laugh at our jokes. As in the old Shania Twain song — “Any Man of Mine” — when she burns her guy’s dinner, she wants him to say: “Mmmm, I like it like that.”
Some of us are attracted to people who share our values or our pursuits. I ski, and she skis, too. I work at homeless shelters, and she does, too. I am a Liberal Democrat and she is, too.
It is comparatively less frequent that people who marry make their decisions with a highlighted focus on what the future will look like, say five or ten years down the pike. For most younger couples, though, their entire lives will be redefined five or ten years down the pike.
They will have a child or more.
Children will interfere with, if not utterly end, a couple’s spontaneity. No more “Hey, I have nothing on calendar tonight, so let’s catch a play . . . or a movie . . . or eat out.” There will be Baby to consider. Baby will predominate. All of life will be focused on Baby. Vacations will be delayed or canceled because of Baby. The types of vacations will be redefined. Weekends will be changed to doing what Baby wants. As Baby grows, the venues and nunaces may change — now adapting to Child — but the highlighted focus will remain the same.
Children take over our lives. We intuit that, having brought them into the world, we owe it to them to give them a fair chance at having a good life. We start putting money aside for their futures. We save for their college educations. We start paying monthly premiums on life insurance. We expend money on their health care, their preschool, their private schools or their after-school activities in public school. We spend on their summer vacations, perhaps on camps, perhaps on Disney and Great Adventures theme parks.
When we are tired, we still are compelled or coerced into listening to them, and they make sure we do. We meet with their teachers if they are doing poorly, or we meet with the teachers to assure that they are succeeding. We buy the kids school supplies, video games, DVDs, iPhones. They literally come to dominate our lives, and we instinctively need to give them our best shot at their best shot.
In this mix, no matter how little we personally focus on religion in our personal lives, we eventually have to give our kids answers about religion, understandings about religion, a guide to spirituality. We can dilly, and we can dally. But eventually we have to tell the children whether Jesus is the Savior of humanity who died for their sins. This may be one of the most important messages and contributions we ever will give this child: explaining what life is all about, why we are here, what our purpose is. “Did Jesus die for my sins, Mom and Dad?”
If Dad meanders, and Mom says “yes” . . . or if Dad does Chanukah but Mom does Christmas . . . or if Mom does Jewish and Dad does not care but one set of grandparents does Yom Kippur while the other does Easter, that Child whom we have endeavored so carefully to love and to give the best of everything is being denied clarity on the most important issue she ever will face: Who in the world am I? What am I? What do we believe in, in this family? What do I believe in?
When a Jew marries a Jew, in this society that has seen such a drastic level of assimilation smite the Jews of America that our demographic numbers are perilously falling, there is yet a fighting chance that the kid may come out Jewish. When both parents do Jewish, when they both celebrate Passover and Rosh Hashanah, while neither celebrates Christmas or Easter, there is a fighting chance that the child will emerge with an idea of what her life is about as a Jew. Otherwise, her chances for Judaic clarity and for Jewish continuity are gravely reduced if not all-but-terminated.
It is a myth that a Jewish man who marries a non-Jewish woman can easily implement an agreement to rear the child as a Jew. Hard numbers, hard data from professionally administered census efforts repeatedly show that the children of religious intermarriages in the United States come out non-Jewish.
The NJPS [National Jewish Population Survey] 1990 found that mixed married households contained 770,000 children less than 18 years of age. According to the NJPS 1990, only 28% of these children were being raised as Jews; 41% were being raised in another religion; and 31% were being raised with no religion at all. Moreover, while 28% of children of intermarriage are being raised as Jews, only between 10% to 15% of this entire group ultimately marries Jews themselves. Thus, it is clear that nearly all the children of intermarriage are lost to the Jewish people.
With respect to mixed marriage households, the NJPS 2000 appears to be consistent with the findings of NJPS 1990.
On that level, then, a decision to marry a non-Jewish spouse is tantamount to ending one’s family lineage and unbroken connection with the Jewish people. She may be sexy and hot, a great skier, a fellow Republican or Democrat, incredibly funny and an amazing cook — but she inadvertently will all-but-certainly end your family’s multi-thousand-year unbroken chain with the Jewish people. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not on purpose. But she will.
Beyond the consideration of how intermarriage impacts children, the decision to marry a non-Jew virtually assures your own severely restricted continuation and life progression as a richly engaged Jew. Unless she opts to convert to Judaism in an authentic, real, and meaningful way -- not just the far-more-predominant modus of perfunctory conversion -- your Sabbath will never be in your lifetime what it might have been. Your synagogue experiences will never be what they might have been. She will not share your passion and caring about the Judaism of your parents and theirs, just as my wife does not share my passion about baseball. On Super Bowl Sunday, my wife does not share my interest. During the World Series, she does not share my interest. So I cheer alone or with friends outside my nuclear family core. The people I most love and cherish consign me to a state of alone-ness during the most important sports events of the year, the ones that capture my imagination. But the core of my nuclear family are with me in my Jewishness and my Judaism. They get that — big-time. And in the end of the day, that is what matters.
What if she shares baseball and ice hockey with you, but not a passion for singing “Avinu Malkeinu” or “Adon Olam” or hearing “Kol Nidre”? If she does not share a love of the Jewish People and of the G-d of Israel, of the sereneness of the Shabbat, you never will have the chance to grow in that direction as you age. You will never be able to change course, unless you want to start dividing your family, your kids, your possessions, and start with alimony payments. As a rabbi of thirty years, I have seen it a hundred times — and more. Men in their 50s and 60s who wish they could get their non-Jewish wives to join them when invited as guests to the Rabbi’s Shabbat dinner table. Men who wish their non-Jewish wives would come to Shul with them and hear them recite the Haftorah they recited sixty years earlier — and appreciate what that means. Men who wish their wives would do more to make a more-kosher home for Passover. Men who see their wives bored out of their gourds during the Seder and unable to connect emotionally with Yom HaShoah or even with Menorah lighting.
By then it is too late. There are kids and hockey games and carpool. Too much accumulated joint property. So the kids have less connection to thiongs Jewish than do their Dads. And everyone ends up in some temple that caters to the Intermarried where, left without the core, they “make the best” of a bad situation, bereft of the core, knowing they never will be able to get back to what they suddenly rue having abandoned or having inadvertently given up.
One ages gracefully, reaching his 60s and 70s, on the cusp of his 80s. Suddenly he starts thinking about the greater picture, the life he has made and that he soon will leave behind for Wikipedia to post. He sees his children barely exuding even hints of real Jewishness and his grandchildren completely lost from Judaism. Great-grandchildren going to church. He tries reconnecting on an occasional Shabbat with his G-d, but his wife expects him home on Saturday by 2:00 pm. The most he can get for Pesach is a Seder straight out of “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” For his expensive Yom Kippur ticket, he gets a sermon on Gay Rights — and his wife and grandchildren are not there even for that. Maybe a son joins him, but needs to leave early to opick up the kids from a birthday party. He looks around him, and he realizes that it was not because marrying a Jew would be “easier” or would “make his Mother happy” after all. Rather, it was because his soul had the capacity to live forever, and he realized it only too late.
-- Rabbi Dov Fischer