Juliet Stamperdahl
IntertaithFamily.com

I have been asked to write about the response of my family and my modern Orthodox community to my marriage to a non-Jewish man. The response was not the saying of Kaddish (actually far from it), but neither was it complete acceptance.
While I am an observant woman raised in a Modern Orthodox community, neither my immediate nor my extended family is Orthodox. My parents attend the Modern Orthodox synagogue where I was raised and where I am still a member. However, they do not observe Shabbat or keep a kosher home. They joined the Orthodox synagogue before there was a Conservative synagogue in our town. They stayed in the Orthodox community once there was a Conservative synagogue because they felt connected to the people.
While my parents would have preferred for me to marry someone Jewish, I was 40 when I started dating Birger, and by then my parents mostly wanted me to find someone with whom I could be happy. My mother anticipated our engagement and let me know that she and my father would be happy to meet Birger’s parents should we get engaged. When I called my father with the news, he jumped into his car and drove down to the synagogue to get my mother. When I asked him what he was feeling, he said “a little farklempt.” My mother, while happy, said she thought that if Birger had been Jewish, she and my father would have announced it to everyone at the synagogue. Although she said that this did not affect her happiness for me, I know she would have really enjoyed publicly sharing her joy.

Some people in my family were less than happy. My 99-year-old grandmother surprised me. I was the last of her 10 grandchildren to marry and the only one to intermarry. I visited her in Florida to introduce her to Birger, and in the lovely way she had of connecting with people, she leaned over to him and said in a stage whisper “My maiden name is Fram, it’s Scandinavian.” She seemed completely comfortable with him. Several others, I suspect, were not so accepting, but all were glad I had found someone, and everyone came and danced at our wedding.

As for the response of my modern Orthodox community, it’s helpful to separate the community’s responses before and after the marriage. There is a distinction made in Jewish law between L’chatchila (beforehand), which is when you can still aim for the ideal halachic solution, and B’dieved (afterward), when what is done is done, so one looks for an acceptable halachic position, even if the situation is short of ideal.

I sought guidance from my rabbi who was clear that he was against the union and there could be no halachic marriage between a Jew and a non-Jew. He knew my age and desire to have children, so recommended that I consider using a sperm bank and asking my parents to help me raise a child. After I made it clear that I wanted Birger to help me raise our children, he counseled me to not marry and just have children with Birger. Had we done this, at least, the rabbi would have prevented a non-halachicly valid marriage.

Several community members did not attend the wedding. Another couple who were asked to be a part of the ceremony were not comfortable doing so. I overheard a congregant say, “It is bittersweet. We are happy that Juliet has found someone and sad that she is not marrying someone Jewish.” I assume that is how most people felt.

Despite these reactions before we were married, since we have been married I have felt that the synagogue community has embraced my husband and now our family. People who were not comfortable coming to or playing a role in our wedding ceremony are comfortable coming to our house for meals or having us in their homes — including the rabbi. It is the rabbi’s responsibility to steer the community and its members based on halacha. Before I was married, he could have prevented an intermarriage. After I was married, his role and the role of the community have shifted to helping me create a richer Jewish home and raise a better-adjusted Jewish child.

There is also a distinction between synagogue policy, which upholds a strict by-the-book halachic standard, and the rabbi’s and the community’s interactions with us, which are more nuanced. In terms of synagogue policy, there has never been and will not be any formal acknowledgment of our marriage. Birger cannot be a member of the synagogue or be listed as a kiddush or lunch sponsor. Our anniversary does not appear on the monthly anniversaries list. However, in terms of how we are treated, people have been welcoming of Birger and embracing of our family.

My community has accommodated my intermarriage so well. We have a most wonderful rabbi and Birger is a caring person and gets involved in synagogue events — dancing during Simchat Torah and attending a funeral of a beloved rabbi.
I know things will not always be easy. Our son will hear his teachers and his friends’ parents actively discourage intermarriage. His bar mitzvah will be a delicate dance between figuring out how his father and his father’s family can feel included without breaking rules. We will need to seek out other intermarried families who have embraced Judaism and navigate their multiculturalism.

I cannot lie and say we were encouraged to marry or that the policies of the synagogue embrace or validate our union. I can say, however, that we are treated like we belong. Maybe it is not so complicated after all. Observant families like ours need each other to live an observant lifestyle in a secular world.

Juliet Stamperdahl lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. She holds a PhD in psychology and writes Statistics for Psychology course work for a living.