Conversion Confusion

Am I an utter hypocrite? Am I fickle? Am I hard-hearted? Am I carting around repressed anger?

These are just a few of the questions I find myself asking as I consider conversion from the (Methodist) Christianity of my youth to Judaism. So few people convert from one world religion to another. What motivates them to make such a drastic change? Why would I do it? Why would I do something that might (further) alienate people I love? My marriage to a Jew didn't make me want to convert (although now, to be honest, I WISH I had wanted to), nor did our joint decision to raise our children Jewish. So why now? And why has this need come on so strongly? Is something wrong with me that I would want to "abandon" my roots?

It's not that I think my family's faith is wrong. I don't. In fact, I don't think about their religion much at all. It just doesn't work for me. So far, Judaism works better.

The first Friday evening after we moved to a new town a few months ago, I was preparing challah for our first Shabbat in our new home. My husband came home, saw the bread, and said, "Oh, honey, you don't have to do that for me! I know you have enough to do already without worrying about Shabbat."

His considerate comment momentarily offended me because -- and this was the first moment I had realized it -- the Shabbat dinner was for me, too. Since we had begun observing the Sabbath after our son was born two years earlier, Friday nights had taken on a quality of . . . of . . . holiness? That is such a hokey word. What I mean is that Friday nights felt special (even more hokey), were anticipated, kept me feeling content and thankful and acutely aware of our family's tiny place in the whole of creation. Lighting the candles, saying the blessings, drinking the wine, breaking the bread, singing together -- these rituals provided a weekly snapshot of the best of our lives, stopped time for just a moment of raised consciousness before the earth continued to spin.

Shabbat made me fall in love with Judaism. But is it possible that any ritual from any faith might have provided the same sacred moment under the right circumstances -- an evening shared with the husband I love and the children I adore? Perhaps it's not God or Judaism, but my family life I love so much. What if my husband and children were gone? Would I still love Judaism? I doubt it. I doubt I would be able to love anything.

Do I put off conversion until I am sure nothing could ever change my mind? Or do I join my family at the Shabbat table as a Jewish wife and mother? Just how sure do I need to be?