‘Like Kitty Spencer, I’m a Jewish convert’
‘YOU’RE SUCH A
TRENDSETTER,’ a friend messaged me last week. The news had just broken that Princess Diana’s niece Lady Kitty Spencer was ‘taking religious instruction’ in Judaism, ahead of marrying her Jewish fiancé, the businessman Michael Lewis. Good for Kitty. Last summer, I also converted to Judaism, after falling in love with my Jewish now-husband. And it was the most fascinating, complex and rewarding experience of my life.
I was a 25-year-old agnostic, who’d disengaged from religion straight after Year 9 RE classes. But when my boyfriend proposed, on holiday in Tel Aviv, I knew I’d convert. I wanted to understand this thing that meant such a huge amount to my husband-to-be: a wonderful, painful, overwhelming thing, one with 4,000 years of hurt and joy, of family and food and faith, of intensely close community and complex relationships, of love and overcoming hate.
So I dived into a year-long liberal conversion at a synagogue headed up by two female rabbis, where men and women sit together, take equal precedence when it comes to leading prayers, and sermons focus on climate change, LGBTQ+ issues and interfaith communication.
This is my form of Judaism: joyously inclusive, warmly welcoming and respectful of every single person. Sitting in a service, dramatic music swelling , listening and now even reading along to the familiar melody of the Hebrew prayers – it’s blissful, like climbing into a hot bath. I feel like I belong. The synagogue welcomed my mother and grandmother in too, who I was lucky enough to have support me wholeheartedly in the process, attending festivals such as Passover and reading a prayer during our aufruf. That’s the pre-wedding blessing, for which dozens of our non-jewish friends packed out the pews, and filled us with such intense gratitude. I’ve been lucky to have such friends and family – I sincerely hope Kitty has the same.
She’ll certainly eat well along the way. My first introduction to Judaism was challah, the egg-enriched plaited bread eaten on Shabbat, dunked into my motherin-law’s chicken soup. And I’ve been eating my way into understanding ever since with a steady stream of apple and honey cake at Rosh Hashanah, doughnuts and latkes at Hanukkah and matzo at Passover.
I converted to Judaism at an odd time: with anti-semitism dominating the news, the Labour Party – indeed, all the major political parties – thrown into crisis over members’ anti-jewish language, Twitter full of anti-zionist rage. Something I’d ignorantly once thought had died out after the Holocaust is now something I’m extremely sensitive to. I notice offensive language, ignorant assumptions; I often feel frustrated, and sometimes helpless. But also optimistic. It is intensely reassuring to know that, rather than sweeping an issue that only affects 0.5% of the UK’S population under the carpet, anti-semitism was one of the key issues that both defined the last election and is central to the current Labour leadership race. That makes me hopeful for the future.
And one of the best things about Kitty’s immediate future? A Jewish wedding – which, apologies, is categorically the most fun kind of wedding. So good luck Kitty. I hope you soak up as much love, community and joy as I have – and as much chicken soup-soaked challah, too.