Over the last weekend, I attended my good friend Angela’s wedding in Chicago. Angela married Jason, and since they are both members of Mensa, they were permitted to wed at the Newberry Library downtown. The 12-foot chuppah was placed in the middle of the museum lobby — pure white sashes flowing down from all four corners, like the four rivers in Eden. The bride descended the widening staircase to the affecting sounds of a piano. The queen of the day was joining her beloved — a Jewish man and a Jewish woman standing under the canopy of God to become one flesh.
This beautiful picture was a result of a mixed background, reflected by the mixed audience witnessing the event. In fact, most of the guests were not Jewish. Both Angela and Jason are Jews by choice. Angela converted 10 years ago; Jason completed his conversion only the day before the wedding. For both of them, this is a second chapter.
Angela has a daughter, who is half Indian with a skin tone much darker than her mother’s, whose German/Swedish background is apparent by her light coloring. She followed in her mother’s footsteps and converted to Judaism in her late teens, five years ago. She, like her mother, is a regular shul goer and loves Israel. Jason comes from an Italian background; his son is Jewish by birth, on his mother’s side. It is a beautiful picture of blended Jewish.
It has always been the case: The Jewish story from its genesis is a story of blending. Coincidentally, the weekly portion on that Shabbat was Parashat Vayetze, which describes exactly that. The Jewish family of our forefather Jacob was a blended one of Leah and Rachel. And, of course, a blended family presents many challenges, but the Torah tells us that it is simply the reality of life. Even when the Israelites, as a nation, leave Egypt, they are accompanied by the famous Erev Rav — a blend of multitude from the other nations.
But what if Rachel and Leah are the same woman? What if the message is simply an exercise in acceptance — accepting the two sides in ourselves? The external separation is simply a manifestation of an internal and permanent split. Maybe this is what our forefathers refused to accept, such as the minim — the types — any irregular blend. What if it’s time to accept the minim — all types? We are all minim, a type of blending. We have to accept the Leah, the tired,” with the Rachel, the freshly born lamb. We have to accept that our story begins with a blend in the Erev. Just as we begin our Shabbat in the eve — the erev — let’s learn how to come together like a braded challah for Shabbat, and have a meal around the table with our blended Jewish family.
Happy holiday season.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
Get Social