There wasn’t a name for it when I was growing up. And if you would have asked me at the time, I would have probably called it the hot mess express. Now there’s a term for it, and even organizations and temples dedicated to including people from families like mine – interfaith families.
I was raised in and exposed to three different religions: Judaism, Catholicism, and Buddhism. My mom’s side of the family was Jewish, my dad’s Catholic, they both converted to Buddhism and my mom left that religion when I was young, became atheist/agnostic, and my Dad I believe still identifies as Buddhist.
It would take more than one blog post to completely describe what it was like growing up with involvement in this many religions. At times it felt like I was being pulled in all different directions depending on the family member or situation. It could be a truly confusing, and often isolating experience.
With religion, you can learn to hide who you are. It always felt like my religious background was too much to explain to people – and when I tried to, many times people thought I was weird, or that my family was weird, or they’d try to convert me, or they’d say something rude or antisemitic, or they’d lose interest in me as a potential partner or friend. Most of the time, it was just easier to never mention it.
By high school and college, I got more comfortable, and I started giving less fucks about people who had something shitty to say about it. And it turns out, it’s actually not that hard to explain. It takes only a few sentences: My mom’s side of the family is Jewish. My dad’s side of the family is Catholic. My dad is Buddhist, my mom is an Atheist. I’m not an expert on any of them but I know something about each one. And that’s it.
And the truth is, I’ve been to the Nichiren Buddhist community centers to chant at the altar with my Dad. I’ve been to synagogue to hear Rabbis read from the Torah with my grandparents. And I’ve sat through Catholic services with random Catholic family members. I’ve done these things countless times in each setting as I grew up. I’ve celebrated Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Hannukah, Easter, Christmas, etc. etc.
You’re a part of the community and you’re also never fully a part of any of them either. So where does that leave me? It’s a confusing place to exist.
Family members from both the Jewish and Catholic sides made references to Buddhism being a cult. It was clear no one really accepted my dad for that, and honestly, the way it was presented to us in my opinion, wasn’t great, so I rejected it too and have made similar comments.
Judaism, for me, was always my favorite. Sure, synagogue could be boring, but I actually liked the rituals, the hymns, and the language. I went with my grandparents often as a kid. I loved my grandparents so much. And I knew how much they loved me too. My grandpa always made it special by taking us to get Baskin Robbins Friday night after services. I felt much more at home with them and in this Jewish setting than I ever did with any others. The way my grandparents presented Judaism was, and remains, special to me.
I know there are some good Catholics out there, but I personally wouldn’t touch that one with a ten-foot pole. It always felt like a very judgmental environment. I was way less connected to my Catholic side of the family. It was very clear from the start we were outsiders – having a Buddhist Dad and a Jewish Mom. We lived downtown and attended inner-city public schools in Indianapolis.
I experienced exclusion from other Jews, but not from my Jewish family, who I felt, regardless of the choices my parents made, always loved and accepted us.
I’ve dated Jewish guys, had Jewish friends, had Jewish peers, and in general they’re just way more accepting in my experience. But there’s still that thing about your mom’s side being Jewish making you some type of “official” Jew. So it was all good when they heard my mom was ethnically Jewish, but once it was found out that my grandma was a convert, I could tell people were less excited about accepting me into their circles.
I didn’t grow up in Jewish day school, go to Jewish camp, have a Bat Mitzvah, or have connections to a large Jewish community. Antisemitism was something I experienced growing up and into my adulthood. I’ve been “bothered” by people who find out I’m Jewish. Some who actively try to convert me though I never, ever asked for that.
A Christian woman I worked for invited me to dinner after I told her I had Jewish family and was half-Jewish. She waited until after we ate to try to convert me. She told me that my grandparents were going to hell and that so would I if I didn’t accept Jesus.
When my Jewish grandfather died, I worked at a law firm and had a Catholic lawyer boss at the time. He bought me some stupid prayer card from his church and told me that they were going to read my grandfather’s name at a service to save his fucking soul or some shit, and that I was welcome to come. What I wanted to do was crumple it up and throw it in his face. But since he’s my boss and I’m like 25 years old, I said thanks awkwardly and regretted it later.
I had a boyfriend in college, who after dating for months, once he found out I was part Jewish and I didn’t identify as a Christian, also said I was going to hell and that it wasn’t right and that we wouldn’t be able to be together long-term.
It’s being in middle school and having your friend sleep over, and waking up to your Dad and his Japanese Buddhist friends chanting at the gohonzon and your friend being like, “wtf is happening right now?” And you’re just a shitty, insecure little pre-teen so you say, “It’s just my Dad and his weird ass religion.”
I can mumble Baruch Ata Adonai, but not always know how to finish the rest. It’s realizing that Trina is saying a Buddhist prayer (one you were forced to chant) at the beginning of “Be Alright.” It’s your Catholic aunt pleading with you to find a church to go to as you head out for college – even though you spent the least amount of time in those spaces and mostly just think about how creepy and gross the priests are.
This shit scratches the surface, but it’s for sure not the full picture.
Fast forward to now, I recently had an extended family member question my interfaith status on one of my IG posts. They told me on my own post that my “nuclear family was Buddhist.” Stated with what appeared to be the utmost confidence. As if they were a living, breathing member in our house during the time and knows my experience better than I do? Like we shared bunk beds and were dragged to all the same places together.
People saw what they wanted to.
This family member apparently thinks we all just only practiced Buddhism because my dad was Buddhist? Lol. And ok…. I can’t even also begin to unpack the patriarchal bs that is attached to that statement… BUT
Please know, because my dad was Buddhist, didn’t mean it was the whole household’s embraced religion. It was not the only religion we grew up with or practiced. Only my dad fully claimed to be Buddhist. (And for a brief time, my mom and I believe my brother did for a time).
And even if it had been that “simple”, and we were all raised consistently in a Buddhist setting with no other religions in the mix – chanting together in unison at the gohonzon every weekend – I’m sure it still never would have been simple. Because everyone else thought Buddhism was weird af.
Basically, if you and your kids weren’t going to at least two places of worship semi-regularly (and I don’t just mean that one time you had a sleepover and got dragged somewhere the next morning), if you only celebrated one set of religious holidays, if you weren’t told you were going to hell when you mentioned your Jewish heritage to your peers, I honestly just don’t want to hear it. You don’t get to tell me “what I was” growing up.
K? Thanks.
(For more on this topic, click here).