Letter to Dad: 2002 - 2004

I starting writing a series of emails in 2002 to my father which I never sent. I was too chicken --- had too much to lose. I recently found this sitting in the drafts file in an old Hotmail account that I had assumed was closed.

Reading this was tear-jerking.

During this period, I actually sent my son Marc (he was 8-11 years old) to Hebrew School. I was so desperate to be close with my family and I knew that Judaism was the only way. So I tried, to the best of my ability, to bite my tongue and let Marc have something to brag about to his "Saba and Savta" (grandfather and grandmother) so they'll love him.

But I have learned that there is NOTHING that I could have done except for quitting life, divorcing my non-Jew husband and becoming a full-time Orthodox Jew that would have pleased them and made me felt welcomed or even loved by them.

The struggle, those years, were very traumatic. My son was an outspoken atheist already, and like me, he had a hard time keeping his opinions to himself. I was at a crossroads over being true to myself or having a family to claim. Being adopted made this decision more difficult.

Ultimately, I decided that my dignity was worth more than their love. After my mother died, I stopped being accommodating and understanding of their beliefs and their constant religious ritual (which verges on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) and reigns over every facet of their life.

Here's the anthology of letters:

Dear Dad,

This letter covers many issues and it has culminated over the past few years. Please read it with an open heart and mind. I've spend a lot of time and effort trying to communicate these things with you.

Throughout the years, I have been wanting to tell you some things. I wrote down some thoughts, many times but have not sent it to you. So, if some ideas seem scattered, you'll understand why.

2002 - We seem to be having a problem with Marc at Hebrew school. As you know Marc blurts out anything and everything that he is thinking. His teacher is telling me that the other kids are complaining that Marc doesn't "use proper words." I know if she meant foul language that it would be specified, so it's not that.

But in Hebrew School he constantly feels the impulse to proclaim his unbelief in a god. Now, it is obvious where he got that from. I have, in the past, expressed my views in front of Marc. I probably shouldn't have done it so forcefully, but I can't change that now. He has, although, came to me with specific questions like why people believe in god. I told him, "They believe god created the earth, they think that god will provide an ultimate sense of justice, and they think that when you die, you go somewhere with god."

Those seem to be the strongest reasons, because without any one of those, there would be no need for a god. Praying and observing and other rituals which are inherent to all religions are merely only by-products of those previous beliefs. So, if the basic beliefs in god fail to move a person to believe, everything else is moot.

Now, I know that you and I (and everyone else in the family) don't come to the same conclusions based on the evidence which is available to us, at this time. But my beliefs (or non-belief) is so strong that it is difficult, if not impossible, to provide Marc with answers that don't correlate with my own views.

I am raising Marc to be a "freethinker." I've always been that. I refuse to believe something just "because." And I believe that faith in a god falls within that category. There are too many opposing views, too many interpretations, too many different holy books -- they cannot all be correct. And if one is wrong, why not all?

Religion, to me, is hope. Wishing that we have an ultimate purpose for life, hoping that this isn't all there is and a way to explain things that science has yet to uncover. I also think that when humans are able to face the concept of death and the finality of it, we wouldn't be so scared and need to think that we must continue to live on.

Again, without the concept of an afterlife, the entire purpose for a god diminishes. I taught Marc that long ago, people couldn't understand nature and they assigned gods to each natural function in order to maintain some illusion of control over nature, e.g., rain, thunder, lightning, fire, earthquakes. These people long ago tried to appease nature (gods) by chanting and sacrifice and blamed their inefficiency to control nature on the fact that they weren't praying enough, or weren't praying correctly, or the thunder god wanted a bull instead of a sheep.

They refused to think that maybe there are not any gods controlling nature. But now scientists are able to know why and how these things occur and even sometimes predict when they will occur. So the gods of nature slipped into history.

We cannot or may never understand what happens when we die, so god fills that gap presently.

Also, the evolution of life. We are constantly learning more about how the earth was formed and how we evolved. That gap is closing.

It is obvious that children suffer, terrorists attack and earthquakes destroy, for no apparent reason. It is extremely comforting to think that there is an ultimate purpose and those people will be "judged" accordingly. But, again, there really is no evidence of that and I'm more likely to think that those beliefs are led by emotions, not fact.

September 11 solidified my atheism. But for the concept of an afterlife, these nuts would have never had the motivation to succeed in their plot. And this is the responsibility of religion. Not specifically Islam or Judaism, but any religion which promotes this absurd, destructive belief of a heaven.

I know that Judaism tends to back off on the afterlife concept (although that is a modern thought), rather preferring to concentrate on earthly duties, but if you eliminate the concept of an afterlife, you eliminate the need to worship a god.

In the Torah, there some mention of the afterlife. Yet, it seems that the Jews have discovered that devoting one's life to the HOPE of an afterlife diminishes this earthly life. So, typical of religions, they reinterpret and neglect to teach all the immoral teachings in their holy book.

Christians drive me nuts with their threats of hell and the "I'm saved, and I'm holier than thou" crap.

I can honestly say that I never really believed in a god. But it wasn't until the last ten years that I really did some research and thought about it, in depth. I studied the history of ALL religions and discovered that man, not a god, chose which selections to include in each bible. It was voted on, like a law.

Do you think that I would want to intentionally isolate myself from my family? Knowing that your Judaism is the tie that bind you. It would be so easy for me to "pretend" and "play along" so I can feel included and loved.

I have always felt "different" due to being adopted. But that would be an emotional, selfish reaction, not one based on truth. Truth to myself.

In a way, I'm jealous. Jealous that you seem to have found something which offers you solace and comfort. Yet, to me it seems pointless, almost silly. I am sorry.

Joining the temple was a huge decision for me. It makes me a complete hypocrite, though. I want you to understand my motivations for joining so you don't think that deep down inside I am seeking god.

I always felt sending Marc to Hebrew School was contradictory. In all honesty, I was attempting to seek your approval. I wanted to somehow give Marc the opportunity to "fit in" with his family since Marc has no one on Lou's side to bond with. Also, society places an extreme importance on religious education and I didn't want to isolate Marc any more than he already is.

I justified that it couldn't hurt. After all, the kids are great, he learns a new language and Jewish culture is fun. Plus, I've made some new friends.

Now, it seems that it is not smart of me to continue to give Marc conflicting messages. I've told Marc that he is too young and uninformed to make any conclusions and to rule anything out, at this point. But he needs to be respectful and not mock others for their beliefs.

Recently, he had a "discussion" with Christina, which I overheard, where she was asking him why he doesn't believe in god. (I suppose she meant a god, in general because she subscribes to the Catholic variety.) And Marc actually came up with some intelligent answers. Some of them, I have never spoken to him about.

He said that nature made the plagues and humans evolved (not created) and a big explosion caused the earth. Plus the obvious ones like you can't see god, there were many gods, Moses couldn't live to be over 900 years old. Why would a god create us only to destroy us with Noah? Couldn't he have foreseen that?

When Christina asked him where he'll go when he dies. He said, "Probably the same place I was, before I was born."

These answers show me that he is, in fact, thinking about it.

Basically, I want to give Marc EVERY opportunity to experience life, to its fullest. No matter how much I say religion does not matter to me, it DOES matter because I have to live in this world with people who feel that religion is important.

I only want for Marc, what would make him a happy person. I don't tell him that he is a Jew, he must marry a Jew, or follow the rituals of a Jew no more than I tell him that he must be a doctor or marry a doctor. These feelings come from within. They are NOT passed down genetically. You might share a few similar genes with your fellow Jews, but we all have different ideas and beliefs.

I abhor the fact that children are subjected to this indoctrination at such an early age. An age where fantasy play is prominent. So susceptible and eager to please. They will recite, verbatim, what they are taught. Is it any wonder that children usually stay in the religion of their upbringing? Not for any sense of it being right or wrong. For the sake of tradition and really not knowing any other way to think.

I pride myself on the fact that I am teaching Marc to ask questions and not accept things at face value. The fault lies when you try and suppress questions and resort to "blind faith."

Dad, I in no way wish to insult anyone. I admire you. I think that you are extremely intelligent and you can run circles around many in the areas of math and science. Your morals and values are also very admirable.

Most people assume that religion, the essence of religion, is based generally on the teaching of good morals and values. It is not the morality issue of religion that bothers me. If that was the extent of religious training, I would be inclined to say, "How can it hurt?" Incidentally, that is Lou's feeling.

There are other aspects of your religion besides the dogma and indoctrination that bother me. Judaism is supposed to promote unity in people. But it seems that unity can only be accomplished if one shares the same rituals and beliefs.

You might tell me that you still love me and it doesn't matter what I believe, to you. But you know, deep inside that it is the ONLY important thing to you.

It hurt me deeply when you did not see me get married. You genuinely liked Lou and admitted that you wouldn't go because he was not Jewish. I never expected you to be overjoyed.

However, I had hoped that your love for me would supersede your prejudices.

Through the years, as each of my sisters got married, the hurt grew deeper. I contemplated not attending their weddings out of spite but decided that my sisters didn't deserve that. I watched as thousands of dollars was spent to celebrate their union. And all I could feel was that mine wasn't even acknowledged. It broke my heart.

A wedge was formed and that wedge is religion.

When Marc was born with hypospadias and needed surgery, I was grateful to see both my parents at the hospital with us. Boy, was it a shock to see YOUR Rabbi coming out of MY SON'S Surgery room. I had yet to decide what religion, if any, I planned to raise Marc with and again, the decision was made for me.

I wasn't even consulted. It was done in a sneaky fashion. I resented that. It was not your place to do that. I felt violated. This was MY CHILD and you can't control every situation. But since it meant so much to you, I let it go. Considering that a person is a Jew only if THEY CLAIM TO BE ONE, I figured time will tell and the trivial ceremonies that you behold so dearly are generally irrelevant to a person's true beliefs.

The fact that you were willing to spend $10,000 per year on a Yeshiva education for Marc also boils my blood. Lou, at that time, was earning only $25,000 a year, and I could never imagine spending half his yearly salary on a Yeshiva. I'm really trying to not sound bitter but, if that money was so readily available, and if a good education was the most important result, why not offer to send Marc to a private non-sectarian school, where EDUCATION is foremost?

It is my belief that it is not the "education" that concerned you as much as the JEWISH education. That is very sad to me. Because Marc is half of Lou. It seems that by even suggesting that Marc attend a yeshiva, it completely disrespects that other half of Marc's existence.

Please understand that Lou does NOT agree with me on any of this and he has less of a problem with many aspects of Judaism than I do.

Why would you expect anyone to want to raise their children in different way in which THEY believe? Do you realize what you asked of Lou (and me)? The problems that it could've created in my marriage? Or even the identity crisis that Marc may have suffered because of learning one way to live in school and coming home to another? Did it matter to you?

That is a huge burden to place on a child. What if Marc wanted to observe Orthodox Judaism? Our household will not change accordingly. He will battle with us. It would not be fair to ask of him to choose between fitting in at home or fitting in at school. Because both would never be possible. Why add extra burdens on a child who already needs to be medicated to fit in?

Would you ever send your children to Catholic school? Why wouldn't you? Because it goes against your belief system, right? Yet you expected that of me. Why?

Therefore, I will try to save those conflicts until Marc reaches adulthood. He won't feel like he has to please us and believe a certain way. And he can take his beliefs and use them to better his life, with the freedom adulthood allows.

Believe it or not, I strive for your acceptance. That is the reason I agreed, at first, about the Yeshiva. I tried to tell myself that it couldn't hurt. And that he'll get a quality education out of it.

But the more I thought about it, the more I saw that this would have caused many additional conflicts for our lives. The last straw was when you asked me NOT to bring Lou to our meeting about financial arrangements and financial aid with Solomon Shechter administrators.

I am not ashamed of Lou. Were you? I know, he's not Jewish. Same old mantra.

I know we never spoke about this, and I know that I made a promise to you years ago. I hope this clarifies why I made the decision NOT to have my child indoctrinated in the Jewish faith, it was a very well thought out decision.

From my end, a strictly selfish perspective, your religion is driving a wedge between any possibility of a healthy normal relationship between you and I. It hurts me that you never visit us, in OUR home. When you do, it is always "on the run." It hurts me that when we do see each other it is either to celebrate a Jewish holiday or on a sabbath, where we cannot do any of the "normal" things a parent and grandparent does with their family.

Your lives are centered around Judaism. That would be fine except I am not Jewish, and Marc is not Jewish. Oh, he's enough Jewish, on paper, that the temple let him in. But this is something that must be felt in your heart. And in my heart there is no god. Therefore, no Judaism.

What if every time I saw you I set up an altar and demanded that you respect my worshipping the invisible pink unicorn? Everywhere in my house is evidence of my belief. Every conversation we have centers around MY belief system. How would you feel?

I hardly have a relationship with my sisters. Nothing genuine, just superficial. Because I don't practice their belief system. You spend weekends at Jen's and Beth's apartments. Babysitting their children, celebrating the sabbath, etc. . . What kind of relationship do we have? Months go by, we don't speak.

I'm trying not to sound like a spoiled child, but we never spend any time with each other without Judaism being in the backdrop. Knowing that I don't practice it or believe, how come I must be subjected to this EVERY TIME WE SEE EACH OTHER?

You don't know me as a person. You don't know why I "just won't conform." You only want to try to change my beliefs to fit yours accordingly. That is evident when you offer to buy books about atheists being converted and telling me to speak with Josh, when we finally may have leaped forward to discuss what I believed and why I believe it.

It seems to me that your motivation is to change me. Let me assure you that my non-belief is sooooo strong, after years of research and studying why people believe in a supernatural, all powerful, all knowing being, I have come to understand the psychology behind it.

I would LOVE to have these discussions with you. But you wouldn't like what I have to say. So I shy away from it in order to keep the peace.

That part of the email was written about a year ago.

Now (2004) as Marc's bar mitzvah approaches [he was 11] there seem to be more problems.

As you know, we belong to a Conservative Temple. The women get called up for aliyahs, and they wear Tallitim. There is no separation between men and women. We are all viewed equally.

Mom mentioned to me that I need to request that Marc have his bar mitzvah on a Sunday. Well, that is not done in our temple.

I am now at a crossroads. I do not send Marc to Hebrew School for me or even for him. We do it for you. This is a sacrifice which eats away at me. I detest attending services and 6 hours per week of Hebrew School is a HUGE commitment.

Marc would prefer not to go and I would certainly appreciate the elimination of this burden in my life.

You cannot, in good conscience, ask that my temple entirely forego their rituals and traditions for Marc and his family.

No one walks into your temple and tells you how to do things. Out of respect, you are supposed to adhere to the rules and rituals of others when you are on their territory. I planned on doing a reading from the Torah. But now I hear from Mom that if any women are present on the bima, no one in my family would take the honor of an aliyah.

So, I must choose: me or the rest of my family. Since it is more important to you (collectively), that the Torah even exists and is read from, I'd relinquish that honor.

But now it has come down to this. I will not be asking my temple for any special treatment. Marc is scheduled to have a Saturday bar mitzvah and if you choose not to attend, we are stopping this charade and cutting ties with the temple.

This fraud of a lifestyle serves no purpose for us anymore.

You have a decision to make. How important is it TO YOU that Marc be bar mitzvah'd?

Could you, just this once, place someone else's feelings over the importance of your ritual?

Marc has worked VERY hard for the honor of being bar mitzvah'd. So much time and effort has been put in to reach this goal.

Will you disappoint him?

How will you explain that to him without reinforcing MY idea that your religion comes before ANYTHING?

What do you really expect?

Do you think that we should belong to an orthodox temple? Even if that was an option, they wouldn't accept us because of the intermarriage.

You were aware that I joined a Conservative temple. You knew what that represents.

Why does it have to be all or nothing?

I feel as if I am constantly sacrificing my beliefs for your acceptance. I cannot do it any longer. I am not Jewish and neither is my husband. Only time will tell what Marc will choose.

At every crucial stage in my life, you have chosen your religion over my feelings.

I know that you feel that Judaism is THE ONE TRUE RELIGION. Everyone who adheres to a religion feels that way, as I do with my atheism.

I love you and need you so much that I put up this facade for years. It is time for me to be honest and true to myself and not carry on as if I am Jewish. It is also time for you to come to terms with the fact that Judaism, the way you choose to practice it, does not unite us. Rather, it divides us.

Love,

Elisha