Bet Din

My Bet Din 2/4

Several books about conversion prepared me for a bet din (a panel of rabbis or at least one rabbi with with community lay leaders) to ask me questions about learning, motivation, lifestyle, etc. Mentally, I knew I was well prepared. So why was I sweating? (In February!) My fiancé was not allowed in the room, but he stayed in the lobby because he didn’t want to wait at home, wondering what was going on!
Rabbi Yitz ushered me into a room where Rabbi Maurice and Joan Bayliss, a lay leader who sings (beautifully!) for holiday celebrations, were already seated. We exchanged pleasantries and I put my bag with my computer and typed spiritual journey next to my chair. I offered to show the approaching- encyclopedic note system I am making on Judaism in my computer, but no one took me up on it. They all know by now, I guess, that I live in my head. They wanted to know how I live in my life!
I told them I had written originally a twelve page spiritual journey to read aloud to them, but forced myself to cut out all the entertaining stories and pared it down to five pages of actual spiritual searching and growth.
I read the journey. I stumbled a few times at first because I was nervous. A copy of it is below, minus a few sentences removed in consideration of the privacy of those involved. The bet din smiled, chuckled, nodded and looked thoughtful in all the right places. Rabbi Yitz put his hand on his heart at the end and said thank you to me. They asked me a number of questions about how I was going to bring Judaism home. Reading was dandy, but I needed observance now.
So I told them David and I enjoyed observing Shabbat. We’ve been lighting candles, eating a nice dinner, going to services and not working for money. A couple weeks ago we talked about ways we could increase our observance. We decided to keep our cell phones on – because not only do we still text and call each other since we do not yet live together, but also because we do not want to exclude our non-Jewish friends and family members. We allow ourselves to use computers for Jewish study. We decided I should confine my school studies to topics of communal, spiritual and emotional issues. For instance, that morning I wrote a paper on whether Muhamad Muhamud, the bombing suspect in Portland, was coerced into illegal behavior by the FBI.
We talked about our upcoming move to a farmette an hour away. I said we were hoping to find another couple nearby to carpool with to services and classes. They brightened; they knew a family who lived very close to our new house.
Rabbi Yitz said he would miss us if we didn’t make it to Torah Study often. He would miss our heart. (I thought about that later – our heart. David’s and my heart. We are an entity, stronger together than when apart.)
We intend to make our home a place of Jewish study and Shabbat dinners as often as possible. We will have a large kitchen, where it will be possible to reserve one entire cabinet for dishes and cookware used for meat. We have been keeping biblically kosher, but not Rabbinically kosher.
One of the bet din said, “But biblically kosher includes separating milk and meat. It is mentioned three times.”
I said, “Well, that depends on how you interpret that. If you interpret it as an injunction against additional cruelty to the mother…”
She said, “Then you should also not eat chicken and eggs together.” I had wondered about that, earlier, because Torah says you shall not take the eggs/young from the mother without shooing the mother away first. So now we have more to think about together. No chicken with eggs? No meat and milk? Separate dishes?
I said I didn’t know if we were going to take our dishes to the Mikveh since I wasn’t too keen yet about getting in it myself. Nor did I know if I was going to stab knives into the dirt to kasher them.
Rabbi Yitz looked interested. “Did you read Blue Greenburg? Because she explains the reasoning behind all the details of koshering beautifully. It really makes the practices meaningful.”
I told him I have gotten bits and pieces of how to kosher a kitchen from books by both ends of the Jewish spectrum, from Reform rabbis who think kosher is outdated to Ultra-Orthodox rabbis who want you to use two tablecloths if one person is eating meat and one eating milk and you don’t have two tables.
He asked about my personal daily practice. I told him I was feeling guilty because I hadn’t bothered to learn the Hebrew prayers. I have an unfortunate block of desire for memorizing something I didn’t fully understand. I thanked him for recommending Zalman, who said the main point was just to begin… in any language, even if my prayers began “Dear God”. (And they do!)
He asked me if I knew that a Reconstructionist conversion would not be accepted by some factions in Israel. He said it was unfortunate, because may in America would consider it a valid conversion. He and others were working to make it acceptable in Israel, also.
He asked me if I ever intended to go to Israel. I answered I didn’t want to live there, but was hoping to go and explore. I wanted to see all of how Jewish people lived, even the extremists who throw stones. I want to stand in front of the Wall and see all the hundreds of thousands of scraps of prayers… I am hoping to feel very moved. All three of the bet din members said I would be; they were. Rabbi Maurice said it was almost a duty of Jewish people no matter where they lived to support Israel, through tourism, through donations, through working for peace. We all need to make Israel a safe home for Jews.

Rabbi Yitz asked if I knew that I was joining a community that was likely to continue being persecuted and hated. I said I did know. I said that I was a better person when confronted with discrimination against a group of people than against myself alone. It prompted me to speak up, to write, to be brave and thoughtful in ways I could not when defending only myself. I said I was honored to be able to support the community Israel in my small way.

They shooed me out of the room to talk together. I went out to find David, who was full of questions I wasn’t yet ready to answer because I was suddenly nervous again. They called us back in a few minutes later. Rabbi Maurice was writing something on a form. I sat upright, arms clasped on the table until Joan laughed, “Are you waiting to find out if you passed?” They all chuckled. I relaxed and laughed, too. Of course I was. This was the culmination of more than half a life of searching.
Rabbi Yitz said I passed and that this bet din was more a formality than anything else, because they already felt I was Jewish and part of the community. Rabbi Maurice said he would send the form in to a safekeeping place in Pennsylvania as well as keep one here at TBI. After the mikveh, I would get a certificate.
David clasped my hand, beaming, as everyone wished me mazel tov.
We made a circle, all of us with our arms around each other. Rabbi Yitz offered a blessing in which he said the community of Israel had been waiting for me to join them!
When we stepped back, I told them they had just given me that other piece of paper for my pocket.