Here’s to a Jewish new year free of divisions

I had never felt more at home and at peace at the Wall in Jerusalem

My conversion to Judaism, when I was given a Jewish soul, was completed on Aug. 17, 1999. The process had lasted six years. After years of doing and learning and wondering “Why me, why this, why now?” nothing made sense, so I decided to “just be it.”

Still, why it was that when I first stood at the Wall in Jerusalem in February 1993, I had never felt more at home and at peace in my life, remains a mystery of cosmic proportions.

I flew home transformed and confused. “Chance” encounters led me to meet wonderful Hasidic women who introduced me to spiritual giants who were willing to guide me on the path to Judaism. I can never repay these people for their kindness, open minds and hospitality on the Sabbath and Jewish holidays. I am sorry I disappointed them by not becoming fully observant.

According to Jewish law, people who wish to convert to Judaism must be turned away three times, but then fully accepted if they persist. Before my conversion, I was turned away many more times than that. Nevertheless, I stuck around, until a powerful Hasidic rabbi told me my teenage daughters had to move out and go live with their father full time. “What if they put up a Christmas tree in their bedroom or bring home a cheeseburger?”

As we say in French, “Wo, wo, tab. …”

If the survival of a faith more than 3,500 years old comes down to separating families, it’s in trouble.

In fact, we are in trouble. Just look at the controversies in Israel with the chief rabbinate there on the issues of conversion, marriage, women praying at the Wall, etc.

Recently, Arab-Israeli popular singer Nasreen Qadri converted to Judaism from Islam. The chief rabbinate won’t recognize her conversion. Why? Who knows? Imagine what this woman faces from her Muslim family and community. But it seems that’s not enough to convince the religious authorities of her sincerity.

At this time of year, when Jews examine our hearts and consciences at Rosh Hashanah and in anticipation Yom Kippur, the chief rabbinate in Israel would do well to remember that the first Temple was destroyed because of division among Jews.

As for me, being told that I had to separate from my children killed my dream of a recognized Orthodox conversion, but I did not give up entirely.

Wonderful people decided to help me, upset at the intransigence I was facing. I ended up going to the mikvah, the ritual bath, on Kildare Rd. in Côte- St-Luc on Aug. 17, 1999, with my now tragically departed friend Fern as my witness. My children, friends, Jewish and not, a beit din (Jewish court) and a friendly rabbi were close by.

Before immersion in the mikvah, the candidate must answer questions, some from the Talmud: “Why did you come to convert? Do you know that Israel at this time is afflicted, oppressed, downtrodden and rejected, and that tribulations are visited upon them?”

Come on. Not anymore. The thought that virulent anti- Semitism could return sounded delirious. I was wrong. In 2017, anti- Semitic incidents against Canadian Jews were the highest since B’nai Brith Canada began tracking them 35 years ago.

A recent Nanos poll indicates that 15 per cent of Canadians hold anti- Semitic views — that’s five million people — and more than one-third are not sure. Nobody predicted the rise of deadly anti- Semitism among Muslim radicals in France. No one imagined that the progressive British Labour Party would elect an antiSemite as leader.

And Jews in Israel have been facing violence since, well, pretty much forever, and it’s far from over.

Every Rosh Hashanah, Jews wish each other a happy and sweet new year.

Perhaps we should add “and a world free from anti- Semitism for all Jews, by birth and by choice.”

As Yeshayahou Liebowitz, a towering Orthodox intellectual, said: “We are not born into a religion, we are born into humanity.”