Rabbi Amy Wallk, Ph.D.
A few months ago, I attended the wedding of a woman I have known for nearly 30 years. I met the bride when she was a toddler and watched her become a beautiful, articulate young woman. Sarah attended Jewish day school and grew up in a kosher home where Shabbat dinner and Torah study were part of the rhythm of life.
When Sarah became engaged to a non-Jewish young man, my emotional reaction was complicated. I really like the groom. He is a good man: smart and capable, and he loves Sarah. But I always had hoped Sarah would marry a Jewish man, make a Jewish home and raise Jewish children. While I know that many interfaith couples do choose to have a Jewish home and raise Jewish children, I also knew it would be easier for Sarah if her husband were Jewish.
Here is the thing: It wasn’t hard for me to hold all of these emotions at once. Excitement and disappointment. Joy and sadness.
As a rabbi and family friend, it was easy to have loving conversations with Sarah about her wedding and marriage. I could be supportive and affirming, and also explain why I wasn’t able to officiate at the wedding. It is the type of balanced approach that is central to Conservative Judaism.
I happily cohosted a bridal shower, and I gave advice about incorporating Jewish values and rituals into the marriage ceremony and their home. Because my voice was loving and supportive, I was able to ask questions that helped Sarah think more about what it means to ask a non-Jewish man to make a Jewish home and raise Jewish children.
Sarah also undoubtedly held a range of emotions about my messaging. I know she loved the shower. I am sure she was sad, sorry — maybe even hurt — that I attended her wedding but did not, and could not, officiate.
These weren’t easy conversations, but with love and respect, we found our way.
I share all of this because I simply do not understand why so many people are making such a big deal about the Conservative movement’s recent report, which reaffirmed that Conservative rabbis are not permitted to officiate at interfaith marriages while also encouraging them to engage with interfaith couples.
The report made strong recommendations about how to say “no” to officiating and “yes” to creating a supportive relationship, as I tried to do with Sarah and her husband, and through my rabbinate.
I was very pleased that the report by the Intermarriage Working Group — made up of more than a dozen rabbis, cantors and lay leaders from North America and Israel — also apologized for the hurt that the movement’s past rejections of intermarried families caused.
It said: “We acknowledge that our movement’s historical stance has resulted in hurt, alienation and disconnection from our community. We deeply apologize.”
It isn’t just that Conservative rabbis wouldn’t officiate. Throughout the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the movement made the non-Jewish partner in an intermarriage invisible. These marriages were not announced in the synagogue bulletins, the spouse was not listed in the synagogue directory or permitted on the bimah at their child’s bar/bat mitzvah.
At a shul where I served as religious school director before becoming a rabbi, there was even concern when a non-Jewish parent wanted to volunteer in the gift shop on Sunday morning. At the time, I was too young to realize just how absurd and hurtful this conversation was.
Sadly, some of my colleagues continue to alienate interfaith couples. They will not send an email mazel tov, lend the shul’s chuppah, or even sit down with the couple. The report was absolutely correct to apologize for the hurt and acknowledge that you can say no in a way that is not alienating. It’s a lesson that some of my colleagues need to learn and interfaith couples need to hear.
Some critics see the report and apology as being “too little too late.” They want Conservative rabbis to officiate at interfaith marriages and can’t understand why the task force recommended that the standards around officiation be maintained. These critics resent that the task force didn’t take into account the growing intermarriage rate. To them, this report is a nail in the coffin of the movement.
Other critics feel no need to more fully embrace interfaith couples. They believe Jews who marry non-Jews reject their past, and therefore, the movement has no obligation to engage these couples.
Such post-mortem commentary misses the very point of the task force’s goals. The report’s authors understood that binary language around intermarriage is short-sighted and reinforces sloppy thinking and lazy policies.
If one side argues that we should simply open our doors and abandon ideas about commandment and covenant, then the other side yells that we should simply reject the interfaith couple. A middle road — classic for the Conservative movement — is to find a way to thread this needle. It is harder to find ways to make the couple feel welcome and comfortable, while also maintaining our Conservative culture. But finding that balance lets us stay meaningful and relevant, embrace interfaith couples, and hold onto ideas about standards and practices.
In my congregation, we invite all couples for an aufruf on the bimah before their wedding. We send announcements about the engagement. And I meet personally with interfaith couples, helping them find ways to bring more Judaism into their homes.
This approach will neither be the downfall of Conservative Judaism nor the panacea to save us from elimination. But it will allow us to thrive through regular, steady and engaged practice with the sacred heritage that we carry, observe and celebrate with open hearts and serious minds.
Rabbi Amy Wallk has served at Temple Beth El in Springfield, Massachusetts, since 2008. She is a recognized leader within Conservative/Masorti Judaism, writing a regular column for Moment magazine and serving on the editorial committee for Siddur Lev Shalem. Ordained by JTS, Rabbi Wallk also holds advanced degrees in education and journalism.
