What Local Community Studies Tell Us About Interfaith Family Inclusion

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Seven years ago, the Pew Report found that 72% of non-Orthodox Jews were intermarrying. One of its many other findings – that while 89% of intermarried Jews were proud to be Jewish, only 59% had a strong sense of belonging to the Jewish people (51-2) – raises the question whether interfaith couples feel welcomed and included in Jewish communities.

Since the Pew Report, the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies at Brandeis University has conducted four studies of interfaith couples and eleven local Jewish community studies, analyzed by the Center for Radically Inclusive Judaism in a recent paper. What surfaces repeatedly in both bodies of research is the feeling of being “other” that people in interfaith relationships say they experience. We believe that the impact and extent of that feeling of being “other” explains the Pew Report’s finding that interfaith families do not feel that they belong to the Jewish people, and points the way to what needs to be done to engage them.

Studies of Interfaith Families

The 2019 Beyond Welcoming: Engaging Intermarried Couples in Jewish Life study stated “we have succeeded in making intermarried families feel welcome,” and that “barriers to engagement with Jewish life have been largely eliminated.” These statements were premature declarations of victory, in part because of the study’s own statement that interfaith couples who did not feel completely welcome “emphasized their feelings of being ‘other’ and not fitting in.” (42)

The Swimming Upstream: Interfaith Families in Toronto study, released in August 2020 and largely unnoticed in the midst of the COVID pandemic, is inconsistent with the declaration of success at welcoming. It states that “Couples felt unwelcome when interfaith relationships were denigrated, when the non-Jewish partner felt pressure to convert, or when they were expected to negate or hide the non-Jewish partner’s religious identity.” (1) It repeatedly describes interfaith couples’ feelings with words like “outcasts,” “outsider,” “inferior option” and “undesirable” (emphasis added):

[T]o be accepted as part of a community with families like ours would be nice for us. We feel like outcasts sometimes. (Non-Jewish partner, survey) (14)

One partner often feels like an outsider, so it’s difficult to prioritize events/feel comfortable attending. (Jewish partner, survey) (33)

“[T]he desire to be seen in a positive light and not denigrated as an inferior option, inherently less Jewish, or dysfunctional” was what they most wished the Jewish community understood about them. (28)

Couples fear some Jewish institutions will view them and their families as undesirable or unfortunate. (41)

While the tone of the two other studies of interfaith couples, in Boston and Pittsburgh, are generally more positive about the interfaith couples’ experiences, still in Boston, in some cases, “despite the initial welcome by a congregation, couples felt an undercurrent of disapproval or being treated as outsiders rather than as integral and valued members of the community” (17) and in Pittsburgh, some non-Jewish partners worried that their acceptance might be conditional or superficial and were concerned that they or their children were thought of differently or more negatively than inmarried couples and their children (12)

The Toronto study finds that “Many interfaith couples indicated they felt pressure from family, friends, and religious leaders for the non-Jewish partner to convert to Judaism.” In Toronto and in Pittsburgh (12), expectations about conversion felt unwelcoming, judgmental and intrusive.

I wish that the Jewish community didn’t put so much emphasis on having a Jewish spouse or partner. I find it highly offensive when my husband’s siblings speak about not accepting if their children were to date someone who wasn’t Jewish. It is offensive to myself and my daughter and really turns me off of the religion. (Non-Jewish partner,Toronto survey) (28)

Families are perceived to be more welcoming than community organizations. In Toronto, “Non-Jewish partners especially appreciated welcoming messages and actions that made them feel they belonged in their new extended families.”

When I first met [Jewish partner’s] parents, it felt like I was kind of already part of the family. I wasn’t the outcast. They’re very welcoming and very friendly. (Non-Jewish partner, interview) (30)

Feeling welcomed in families but not in Jewish organizations may explain why 89% of Toronto surveyed couples engaged in some celebration of the High Holidays, but 76% did not attend services, celebrating instead in home settings with family or friends. (13)

Local Community Studies

A. Interfaith Families Connection to Jewish Community

In the Twin Cities, as one example, 48% of intermarrieds feel not connected to either online or local community, compared to 8% of inmarrieds. (52) The following average data from the local community studies suggest that interfaith families do not experience being welcomed or made to feel part of Jewish communities:

  • Fewer intermarried (25%) than inmarried (54%) respondents said that being Jewish is very much a matter of community. Fewer intermarried (57%) than inmarried (89%) respondents said that being part of a Jewish community is important or essential to what being Jewish means to them.
  • Fewer intermarried (5%) than inmarried (28%) people say that they feel very much of a connection with or very much like a part of their local Jewish community.
  • Fewer intermarrieds (18%) than inmarrieds (43%) said they feel very much connected to Israel, a traditional measure of feeling part of the Jewish people.

B. Welcoming

People in interfaith relationships generally found their local Jewish organizations and community less welcoming than inmarrieds did. Six of the studies explicitly asked how welcoming the local Jewish community was to interfaith families; 54% of intermarrieds, compared to 69% of inmarrieds, said their local Jewish community was a little/somewhat or very much welcoming; more intermarrieds (42%) than inmarrieds (25%) said they had no opinion.

In Boston, for one example, 20% of intermarrieds compared to 8% of inmarrieds said that not welcoming was a reason they did not give their children Jewish education (TA 42). In Baltimore, as another example, only 15% of intermarrieds very much agreed that local Jewish organizations were welcoming to “people like you,” compared to 46% of inmarrieds. (TA (Technical Appendices) 121) The executive summary of the Baltimore study bluntly states: “Households that include an intermarried couple tend to feel that the community is not welcoming to them, does not care about them, and does not support them.” (3)

C. What Interfaith Families Say About Welcoming and Inclusion

Several local community studies invited comments about what prevented people in interfaith relationships from participating in Jewish life. In Baltimore (82) some interfaith families “felt unwelcomed in Jewish spaces, or feared they would be, because of who they are – in some cases, this belief was a result of direct experience and in others, it was an assumption.”

My wife is not Jewish, so my children are not Jewish according to Halacha, even though I am teaching them about Jewish culture. I feel like my family and I may not be accepted by the Jewish community.

As the non-Jewish spouse in a Jewish family, I am worried I won’t be accepted and have felt that way in some Jewish events in the course of my relationship with my husband. (84)

In the Twin Cities, despite a general feeling that the community is supportive of their needs, “some members of interfaith families, expressed their struggles with feeling accepted and welcomed.”

A major gap is making interfaith families feel welcome, especially the non-Jewish partner. This keeps us from being more involved when one person doesn’t feel welcome. (120)

In Pittsburgh, interfaith families felt that the community could do more to make them feel welcome.

We have a mix of religions in our home, though in practice we only practice Judaism. We found that we were not always welcomed or respected at [our area] congregations. Even Reform ones. (90)

In Washington, some interfaith families reported ways that the community made them feel unwelcome. One said,

As someone from an interfaith household, it’s hard to engage with the community if I have to convince my spouse, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll feel comfortable and welcome.’ She often feels like the Jewish community is insular and skeptical of non-Jews, and that makes it hard for me to find ways to engage in the community as well. (93)

Dual Faith Families

Data from the local community studies show that 15% of the children of intermarried parents are being raised Jewish and another religion. In the Twin Cities local community study (24) and the Boston study of interfaith families (17-8), some couples expressed concern about not being fully accepted if they decided to raise their child in two religions, or include both religions in their home life and in their identification of themselves as a family. One Boston respondent said:

There are some resources that say that they’re open to interfaith couples… But, it’s framed as for folks wanting to build a Jewish home … What I hear about interfaith [is]couples where one person is Jewish, and a Jewish community accepts that because they’re going to raise their kids Jewish. We are going to raise our kids Jewish, but we’re also gonna raise them actively something else… I feel anxious about finding those resources that don’t want me to be a kind of blank… I’m not a ‘nothing’ religiously. (Non-Jewish partner) (17-8)

What Can Be Done

The local community studies typically end with recommendations for future action. The Pittsburgh study clearly states the two main lines of efforts needed to engage interfaith families:

If the community can increase its outreach to intermarried families to make them feel more a part of the community, and if the community can offer them programs that stimulate their interests and meet their needs, there may be a significant opportunity to increase their Jewish engagement and encourage their children to develop their Jewish identities. (90)

There is a great deal of data and comment in the Cohen Center’s research that supports the view that people in interfaith relationships feel less welcomed and less a “part of” than inmarried people do. What a significant segment of people in interfaith relationships say, demonstrates a persistent feeling of being “other.”

Some of their comments point the way forward. One from the Boston study of interfaith families highlights the difference between feeling welcomed as a guest and included as part of the community: “Some couples recounted being regularly welcomed when they attended activities at a synagogue but never really progressing to feel like they belonged in the community.” (17)

Inclusion requires treating partners from different faith backgrounds as equals, like the Jewish partner’s Toronto family who treat the partner from a different faith background “as if I’m Jewish” (31), or the congregation in Boston where both partners are “treated very equally as members of the community” and are “both equally members of the congregation and that is really, really important to the fact that we feel at home here.” (16)

Who’s More Inclusive: Emerging or Legacy Spiritual Communities?

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When I ran InterfaithFamily (now 18Doors), a prominent philanthropist told me more than once that engaging interfaith families was an issue that would “take care of itself over time” because “young people are inclusive.” I was skeptical, but had no way to test or even shed light on the hypothesis – until now.

The Center for Radically Inclusive Judaism (CFRIJ) recently completed a Survey on Emerging Spiritual Communities’ Interfaith Inclusion Policies and Practices, modeled on the Center’s 2019 Survey on Reform Synagogue Interfaith Inclusion Policies and Practices (to which just under 50% of Reform congregations responded). Adopting the terminology of start-ups compared to “legacy” institutions, comparisons to the Reform survey results can provide some insight into the relative inclusiveness of emerging and legacy spiritual communities.

With much-appreciated help from the Jewish Emergent Network, the Open Dor Project, Kenissa: Communities of Meaning Network, the Upstart Network, and Base and Base Hillels, the Center compiled a list and invited 72 emerging spiritual communities to take the survey; 44, or 61%, responded. While they range from well-established, with years of operation and hundreds of participants, to very new start-ups, common elements include being led by a rabbi, cantor, kohenet or other spiritual leader; gathering to celebrate Shabbat and holidays and lifecycle events; perhaps offering worship services, education programs, and mentoring; and developing relationships and building community in a Jewish context.

Interpretation of the significance of data from these surveys depends to a large extent on one’s perspective with respect to inclusion of interfaith families. The same data can be presented in ways that emphasize permission or restriction; for example, 40% of communities permit X, or, 60% of communities do not permit X. In turn, whether or not it is appropriate or advisable to permit or not permit X depends on one’s fundamental views: about Judaism – whether it is a system for those who are Jewish or also those who do Jewish; about the relative importance of maintaining boundaries, on the one hand, and engaging interfaith families in Jewish life, on the other; and about whether restriction or permission will lead to interfaith family engagement. Admittedly, I come from a maximalist inclusion perspective, believing that permission, lowering boundaries, and encouraging anyone who want to, to do Jewish – in other words, treating Jews and their partners equally – leads to the engagement of interfaith families that is badly needed.

With respect to membership and leadership – whether partners from different faith backgrounds count as voting members and can hold leadership positions – the emerging spiritual communities are somewhat more inclusive than Reform synagogues: 84% consider them as voting members, compared to Reform’s 79%; 80% permit them to be board members and 76% to be officers, compared to Reform’s 40% and 27%.

With respect to wedding officiation, they are very close: 74% of emerging community clergy will officiate for interfaith couples, compared to 88% of Reform rabbis, while 29% will co-officiate, compared to 22% of Reform rabbis.

With respect to ritual participation, 68% of emerging spiritual communities allow members from a different faith background to lead candle lighting, while 32% do not; the data for Reform synagogues are identical.

We added several new questions to the recent survey and found these measures of inclusive policies and practices:

  • 70% of emerging spiritual communities recognize patrilineal Jews as Jews for all purposes, 23% as Jews for some but not all purposes, and only 7% not recognizing them as Jews.
  • 80%+ of communities in which baby namings and britot take place fully include parents and relatives from different faith backgrounds, and 90%+ of rabbis/spiritual leaders will officiate at funerals and conduct shiva minyans for them.
  • 82% of communities allow children who are receiving formal religious education in another religion to participate in their education programs.

The response to one new question in the recent survey was meant to test whether the communities mean to treat Jews and their partners equally: 64% said they do not draw any distinctions in terms of leadership and governance, ritual participation, or otherwise, between Jews and partners from different faith backgrounds. That is a heartening statistic from a maximalist inclusion perspective.

However, the “acid test” of interfaith family inclusiveness is whether parents from different faith backgrounds are allowed to have – by themselves – an Aliyah at their childrens’ b’nai mitzvot. The survey found that only 41% of communities allow parents from different faith backgrounds to do so. That’s not consistent with 64% of communities saying that they draw no distinctions.

Unfortunately, the Reform survey did not specifically ask about parents from different faith backgrounds having an Aliyah by themselves, so that comparison can’t be made. But the surveys do show that 79% of emerging spiritual communities and 70% of Reform synagogues allow parents from different faith backgrounds to join with Jewish parents in having an Aliyah.

Finally, the emerging spiritual communities are similar to Reform synagogues in one other way: they are not publicizing their policies and practices with regard to interfaith families on their websites – 5% do, compared to 18% of Reform.

The bottom line from my perspective: there’s not a large difference in the interfaith inclusion policies and practices of emerging spiritual communities and Reform congregations. They appear to be more inclusive in terms of leadership positions, and not constrained by a policy against dual education, but their practices on ritual participation are largely the same. It’s too soon to say that the young people are creating communities that are more inclusive than their elders’.

There are positive signs, however. Open-ended responses in the recent survey suggest a pragmatically inclusive approach that all emerging and legacy communities might follow: allowing members from different faith backgrounds who are “mission-aligned and see themselves as wanting to build meaningful Jewish community” to serve in leadership positions; not asking families whether their children are being educated in another religion, but making “it clear that our programs are grounded in Jewish tradition and open to all who are interested;” and allowing parents and relatives from different faith backgrounds to have an Aliyah where the family can “ensure that the relatives know the prayer and want to say it with sincerity.”

Will Our Post-Corona Vision Include Engaged Interfaith Families?

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[This essay originally appeared in eJewishPhilanthropy and is reprinted with permission.]

As any regular consumer of Jewish media in general – and eJewishPhilanthropy essays in particular – knows, there is an ongoing extensive discussion about the massive disruptions caused by the Coronavirus pandemic and the opportunity to re-envision the Jewish community.

Strikingly missing to date from that discussion has been any mention of a goal to increase the engagement of interfaith families in that post-pandemic community.

The leaders of organizations working with Jewish professionals, reporting on what they hear from the field, most recently identified a concern among Jewish non-profit CEOs that initiatives around inclusion not be deprioritized, as well as their interest in having the full diversity of the community considered. But the only marginalized groups mentioned are Jews of color and multiracial members of our community.

Regrettably, it is necessary to ask Jewish leaders at this time: Are interfaith families part of the diversity of the community that we want to be included?

Thought leaders, including Sid Schwarz, Steven Windmueller and Cindy Chazan,  have noted the huge production of Jewish content available online in response to the pandemic. But aside from ongoing efforts by 18Doors, no extensive content or experiences have been developed with interfaith families in mind – with any focus either on making content accessible to them, or marketing to them in targeted ways.

This is an opportunity that could be seized after the pandemic ends that could lead to engaging many more interfaith families.

Thought leaders have also noted that the fear and isolation stemming from the pandemic have generated increased interest in spiritual community. The Pew Research Center reports that many Americans, though fewer Jews than other groups, say their faith has become stronger.  There is reason to believe that partners from different faith backgrounds are likely to be even more interested in spiritual expression than their Jewish partners.

This is another opportunity – to make Jewish spiritual community attractive to and accessible by, that is, inclusive of, the partners from different faith backgrounds in interfaith relationships. Will that be part of our re-envisioned “New Normal”?

I don’t mean to suggest for a moment that there are not very pressing immediate concerns around health, people in need, the survival of organizations and job security for their professionals, and more. But thought leaders are calling for planning, starting now, for the future, and for thinking expansively about making Jewish life and communities compelling when the pandemic is over.

One thing that has not changed and must be taken into account in that expansive thinking: given a 72% rate of intermarriage among non-Orthodox Jews, no form of liberal Jewish activity can thrive in the future unless increasing numbers of interfaith families engage in it.

There is much that can be learned, from the current discussion of the disruptions and opportunities arising from the pandemic, about how to engage interfaith families, in addition to the importance of providing targeted online content and capitalizing on revived interest in spiritual community. The lesson about mutual trust that Cyd Weissman draws from the pandemic provides important guidance on how feelings of inclusion can be cultivated among interfaith families. Weissman says that if we develop relationships in which we demonstrate trust in people, by cultivating their needs, voices and creativity, they will trust us. I say that if we consider and treat partners from different faith traditions as equals, we can demonstrate trust in them and cultivate their needs, and, as I’ve argued before, make them feel that they belong in Jewish communities.

As Jewish leaders – including the private family foundations widely recognized as the “power brokers” in formulating the response to the pandemic – move forward with the planning that will inevitably happen, I urge them to prioritize changing the trajectory of efforts to engage interfaith families Jewishly.

Interfaith Inclusion at the Biennials

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[Portions of this essay appeared in eJewishPhilanthropy on February 4, 2020 under the title “Reconceptualizing Conversion.”]

Conflicting views about conversion were at the core of what was said – and not said – about interfaith inclusion at the recent biennial conventions of the Conservative and Reform movements.

With 84% of new households that include non-Orthodox Jews being interfaith, it clearly is essential to engage more of those couples if any liberal Jewish activity is to thrive in the future. Experts agree that people engage with a group if they feel included – that they belong. But many Jews think that if partners from different faith backgrounds want to belong, they can and should convert.

Holding up conversion as a condition to inclusion – a persistent view expressed at the biennials – is a bad strategy that will push more couples away at the outset. Instead, we should see conversion “for the right reasons, and at the right time” as an incidental possible future outcome of an approach of full inclusion without condition that will bring more couples in.

That interfaith inclusion was more of a focus at the United Synagogue/Rabbinical Assembly gathering represents a sea change. In the past when I would try to interest Conservative rabbis in InterfaithFamily’s work, most were standoffish because of our position on conversion: when I said it was a wonderful personal choice but if promoted too aggressively would turn people away, the typical reaction was “not good enough.”

With membership declining, attributed by most to the movement’s less than welcoming response to interfaith families, attitudes are changing. Over the past two years, the United Synagogue partnered with InterfaithFamily on a survey about welcoming interfaith families in Conservative synagogues, the subject of a well-attended biennial session.

The most striking development occurred when Rabbi Wes Gardenswartz delivered a passionate statement that Conservative rabbis should be permitted to officiate at weddings of interfaith couples who intend to raise their children Jewish. Rabbi Eliot Cosgrove advocated in response for standing by the sociological and halachic value of inmarriage, and positioning the Conservative movement as the movement of conversion. Acknowledging that many might not convert, he said it is not the movement’s responsibility to serve everyone or to risk standing for nothing.

Rabbi Gardenswartz had this to say about conversion:

It would be great if Christopher [the hypothetical partner of Rachel] would convert.  Conversion would clearly be our preferred option. We would move heaven and earth to encourage him to convert if he were open to it.  But here is what he says…. I love Rachel for who she is.  I want to be loved for who I am.  Maybe in time I might choose to convert, but I want to do it for the right reasons, and in the right time.  The right reason is that this is something that I want to do, that I am drawn to.   The right time is when I feel ready.  I don’t want to do it to make her parents happy, or to make clergy happy, or as a condition to a wedding.  I am happy if our children are raised Jewish.  I would be partners with Rachel in their getting a Jewish education. But I am not ready to convert to Judaism unless I feel it is something I want to do because it feels right to me.

Half of the room enthusiastically applauded after each rabbi spoke, reflecting the movement’s sharp division. Rabbi Gardenswartz noted one outcome of saying no is couples might go to “the fabulous Reform rabbi, of the thriving Reform synagogue, the next town over.” But the situation wasn’t so rosy at the URJ Biennial.

Out of more than 100 learning sessions, only four were focused on interfaith families. At one, I presented the results of a survey the Center for Radically Inclusive Judaism (CFRIJ) conducted of interfaith inclusion policies and practices at Reform synagogues. One key takeaway was that leadership positions continue to be largely restricted to Jews; in only 43% of congregations can partners from different faith traditions serve as board members, and in only 21% as officers. Second, while ritual participation has opened up, with 70% of congregations allowing parents from different faith traditions to have or join in an Aliyah at the b’nai mitzvah of their children, it is not clear how many congregations allow partners from a different faith tradition to recite the words of the Torah blessings. Many congregational leaders clearly view conversion as a requirement for full inclusion in leadership and ritual.

Shortly before the Biennial, CFRIJ announced a grass-roots campaign to have Reform congregations propose a resolution at the 2021 URJ Biennial calling for full inclusion of interfaith families and partners from different faith traditions. One rabbi strongly objected, saying that if partners from different faith traditions can do everything Jews can do, Jewish identity would be meaningless and no one would convert, and that it’s like citizenship, where aliens have certain rights but can’t vote.

As I said at the learning session, addressing what inclusion means, maintaining high boundaries and applying the citizenship analogy – essentially, requiring conversion as a condition to full inclusion – is a recipe for decline. At another biennial session, on supporting “Jewish adjacent” members, two partners from different faith traditions detailed their extensive Jewish engagement in both their families’ lives and in their synagogues. Questions from the audience commented that they were more Jewishly engaged than many Jews, and wondered how they felt about conversion. Both indicated that for their very personal reasons, it wasn’t the right time, but it might be in the future.

The most striking development was Rabbi Rick Jacobs’ speech, As Numerous as the Stars of Heaven. After stating that “Jewish life was meant to expand and grow” and urging the Reform movement to enlarge the size of its tent, the speech focused almost entirely on embracing Jews of Color, and ended with a call to action to address antiracism. I am all in favor of embracing Jews of Color, but the impact of doing so is dwarfed by the potential numerical gain available from embracing partners from different faith traditions.

Rabbi Jacobs did make a passing reference to “so many people out there who are Jewishly adjacent… and they are part of this family of ours.” But instead of saying “There are millions of North American Jews … looking for a place to belong,” I wish Rabbi Jacobs had referred to millions of “North American Jews and their partners from different faith backgrounds.” When he said, “It is time that we make every person who comes under our tent feel like they already belong,” I wish he had said “that means partners from different faith backgrounds, too.”

The leaders of liberal Judaism are missing opportunities to explicitly prioritize engaging interfaith families, the defining challenge of our time. Another takeaway from the survey was that congregations do not talk effectively about their interfaith inclusion policies and practices either among their leadership or with their congregants, with only 18% publishing them on their websites.  We need to rise above the lingering ambivalence that conditions inclusion on conversion and instead embrace full inclusion as our goal.

Judaism Is Not Just For Jews: The Lesson of Interfaith Families

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This op-ed appeared originally in the Forward and is reprinted with permission.

Now that nearly three out of four marriages among non-Orthodox Jews are interfaith, 84% of new households that include at least one non-Orthodox Jew are interfaith households. That means that the future vitality of every aspect of liberal Judaism depends on engaging increasing numbers of interfaith families in Jewish life. Yet instead of discussion of the issue in Jewish organizations and media, there’s deafening silence.

The silence around interfaith life from the organized Jewish world is doubly frustrating given the challenge that interfaith couples face — and in particular, the partners from different faith traditions. Many doubt that they can belong in Jewish groups, organizations and communities. That’s because in the traditional view, Judaism is for Jews; what matters is “being” Jewish, being part of the Jewish people. Those who identify as Jews are “in,” while a partner who is not a Jew is “out” or “other.”

Despite recent suggestions to the contrary, the truth of the matter is, interfaith couples don’t feel completely welcome. Many report an undercurrent of disapproval or feel they are treated as outsiders. Moreover, welcoming interfaith couples is a necessary first step.

But by itself, it is insufficient, a distinction that has been drawn by advocates for every other marginalized Jewish group. Take the Reform Movement’s resolutions concerning LGBTQ and transgender/gender non-conforming people, and people with disabilities: It commits to “integrate fully all Jews into the life of the community regardless of sexual orientation” and to “welcoming communities of meaningful inclusion, enabling and encouraging people with disabilities and their families to participate fully in Jewish life in a way that promotes a sense of personal belonging for all individuals.” It also insists upon the Reform Movement’s “commitment to the full equality, inclusion and acceptance of people of all gender identities and gender expressions.”

But the movement’s latest resolution on interfaith marriage commits only to welcoming interfaith families and partners from different faith backgrounds, while also encouraging conversion.

Like every other marginalized group, it stands to reason that interfaith couples will not stay unless they are made to feel that they truly belong.

How can people who are not Jews feel that they truly belong in Jewish communities? That is the challenge of our time, and overcoming it requires a new understanding of interfaith marriage, and adapted attitudes and policies that support full inclusion.

First, we need to understand the foundational covenant as being not between God and the Jewish people, but between God and the people who are Jewishly engaged. Judaism is not just for Jews; it is for people who are “doing” Jewish, whether or not they identify as Jews, in a community that consists of other Jewishly-engaged people. This is radical, because it stands the traditional view on its head.

A rabbi told me once that it didn’t make sense for someone to say, “I live Jewishly but I’m not a Jew.” We need a new understanding of interfaith marriage in which that makes perfect sense.

Second, inclusion requires an adaptation of underlying attitudes towards the marginalized group. In the context of interfaith marriage, full inclusion means considering interfaith families as equal to inmarried families, and partners from different faith backgrounds as equal to Jews.

Unfortunately, examples of expressions of negative attitudes abound, including the “missing mazel tov” when Jewish leaders described Chelsea Clinton’s wedding as not a Jewish event; “expert” assumptions that Mark Zuckerberg’s intermarriage meant his children would not be Jewish (which later was disproved); denunciations from Israel of intermarriage as a “plague” or “catastrophe.”

We have quite a way to go before we consider partners from different faith traditions as equal. Even expressing a preference that our children marry Jews delivers a message of disapproval to the 72% of them who will intermarry anyway. Feeling disapproved of is not conducive to feeling belonging.

Third, inclusion requires adaptive change in the established system. In the context of interfaith marriage, adaptive change means not just considering, but treating interfaith families and partners from different faith backgrounds as equal.

What leadership roles can partners from different faith backgrounds take? In what rituals can they participate? How will we explain those policies and communicate our invitations to engage?

When Jews and Jewish organizations are fully inclusive, interfaith couples and the partners from different faith backgrounds can feel like they truly belong. With a new understanding of interfaith marriage, and adapted attitudes and policies, we can make this happen and secure the liberal future.

This New Year, Who Will Be Only Welcomed, Who Fully Included?

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This op-ed originally appeared on eJewishPhilanthropy and is reprinted with permission.

Two important studies this summer noted the relatively lower Jewish engagement of interfaith couples. Instead of criticizing them or discouraging interfaith marriage, the Cohen Center recommended “strategies to introduce intermarried families to Jewish settings and offer them opportunities to participate.” This evidences a growing consensus, in the liberal if not the traditional Jewish world, on the importance of engaging interfaith families, discussed in ways that do not alienate them.

But consensus is lacking on a gating issue to engagement. The Beyond Welcoming study declares that we have succeeded “in making intermarried families feel welcome.” Even if that is correct, which I question, welcoming by itself, while essential, is insufficient. Advocates for every other marginalized Jewish group, including LGBTQ people, people of color, and people with disabilities, all agree that inclusion – the feeling of belonging – is necessary to support engagement.

Congregational consultant David Brubaker explains the difference:

A hospitable congregation welcomes visitors …, showing [them] that existing members are glad that they’ve come… [T]he visitor leaves feeling that his or her presence was truly appreciated.

Having been welcomed… offers no assurance that a visitor will also be fully included…  [I]nclusion is a much deeper form of acceptance… [O]nly genuine inclusion will convince me to remain part of the community. I will stay if I feel I truly belong.

Just like every other marginalized group, it stands to reason that interfaith couples and in particular partners from different faith backgrounds will not engage unless they are fully included – made to feel that they truly belong – in Jewish families, organizations and communities.

But unlike those other marginalized people, the partners from different faith traditions are by definition not Jewish, and there is no consensus on a commitment to their full inclusion.

Resolutions adopted by the Reform movement provide a telling comparison. The resolutions concerning LGBTQ people, transgender/gender non-conforming people, and people with disabilities recognize the distinction between welcoming and inclusion, and state full inclusion as their goal: “[T]o integrate fully all Jews into the life of the community regardless of sexual orientation,” “[W]elcoming communities of meaningful inclusion, enabling and encouraging people with disabilities and their families to participate fully in Jewish life in a way that promotes a sense of personal belonging for all individuals,” “[C]ommitment to the full equality, inclusion and acceptance of people of all gender identities and gender expressions.”

But the movement’s resolutions on interfaith marriage to date commit only to welcoming interfaith families and partners from different faith backgrounds, while also encouraging conversion. Conversion is a wonderful, personal, existential choice, but if full inclusion is essential to engagement, and if we are only willing to fully include those who convert, then far too many interfaith couples will continue to be disengaged.

How can partners from different faith backgrounds be fully included? Inclusion theory posits that inclusion requires an adaptation of underlying attitudes towards those to be included, and adaptive change in the established system with which they engage. As Brubaker explains,

Hospitality requires no adaptation on the part of the congregation. (Friendliness and welcoming, yes, but no deep change.) Inclusion is quite different. When a congregation begins to integrate people from a racial group or socio-economic status different from its own dominant culture, it usually must adapt its way of being to be genuinely inclusive. Modes of worship may need to broaden. Methods of decision-making may need to change. And interaction patterns among members may need to evolve… New ideas will stretch the prevailing doctrines and new energies will stress the existing systems.

The Cohen Center’s We’ll Cross That Bridge study points to the key adaptation that is needed in the case of interfaith families: “In some cases, despite the initial welcome by a congregation, couples felt an undercurrent of disapproval or being treated as outsiders rather than as integral and valued members of the community.” It is the attitude that partners from different faith backgrounds are outsiders rather than members that needs to change.

In the deep-seated traditional view that Judaism is a system for the Jewish people and where what matters is being Jewish, interfaith marriage is wrong, and partners from different faith backgrounds are sub-optimal at best. Radical inclusion – radical because it stands that traditional view on its head – understands Judaism to be a system for the community of those who are engaging in Jewish life – who are doing Jewish – some of whom are Jewish, and some of whom, like the partners from different faith backgrounds, are not.

Radical inclusion requires adaptations in culture and in policies. We need to adapt attitudes such that interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions are thought of as equal to inmarried couples and to Jews. And we need to adapt policies such that they are treated as equals.

Paraphrasing the Religious Institute on LGBTQ inclusion, interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions need to be “made to feel like they are part of the family … full members of the faith community, with full opportunities to participate and equal responsibilities to serve.”

Many say that their organization or community is already sufficiently welcoming, as the Beyond Welcoming study suggests. But as the Religious Institute noted in the context of LGBTQ inclusion, there is “a tendency toward complacency among many congregations once the rainbow banner is unfurled…. [M]any clergy and congregants consider LGBT inclusion a ‘non-issue’ because ‘everyone knows we’re welcoming.’”

If we want more interfaith families to engage in Jewish life and community, we should start this new year with a commitment to start working to fully include them. Because the alternative, as Brubaker concludes, is “inevitable decline. Congregations that refuse to include new people along with their new ways of being will inevitably discover that new people have no desire to affiliate.”

Or, as one disabilities expert recently said, “If even one person feels excluded, disconnected, or isolated, the entire community is diminished. Fostering a sense of belonging is a Jewish imperative.”

Having It Both Ways?

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Steven Bayme, the national director of the Contemporary Jewish Life Department at AJC, recently asked: “Jewish and Christian: Can One Have It Both Ways?” Writing about David Brooks, who describes himself as both a Jew and a Christian, Bayme says that identifying as both Jewish and Christian, or raising children to identify as both Jewish and Christian, challenges Jewish survivalism and continuity.

As I explain in Radical Inclusion: Engaging Interfaith Families for a Thriving Jewish Future, if asked, I would advise interfaith couples to choose one religious identification for their children, while honoring and exposing the children to the other faith tradition in the family if they desire to do so. While acknowledging reasonable contrary arguments – especially those of Susan Katz Miller, who is getting a lot of favorable comment for her new book, The Interfaith Family Journal, I conclude that it is best to ground children in one religious identity, that being both risks forcing uncomfortable choices between parents later on, and that there are theological incompatibilities in being both.

But I hasten to add that my advice doesn’t matter to those interfaith couples who want to raise their children as “both,” and that their participation in Jewish life and community should be encouraged, not barred, because more people “doing Jewish” is valuable in itself, and may result in more Jewish identification, leading to more engagement, as well. It’s presumptuous for Bayme to conclude that “failure to chose one faith exclusively is a prescription for theological blandness.”

In the old debate over interfaith marriage I invariably disagreed with Bayme’s views. He continues to express a desire for an ethnic-based, socially exclusivist Judaism as well as criticism of interfaith marriage. He says that “historically, Jews have known what they were not… Christianity constituted the ultimate boundary.” But contemporary Jews will be attracted to Jewish life because of its intrinsic value, not because of what it is not. Bayme refers favorably to “a distinctive Jewish people” and says that “transmitting Jewish identification to future generations requires an unambiguous Jewish identity.” These formulations fail to come to grips with the realities of how interfaith families engage Jewishly today, and are themselves detrimental to Jewish survivalism and continuity.

In Radical Inclusion I argue that instead of a Judaism that is for the Jewish “people” only, where what matters is “being” Jewish, where Jews are “in” and “others” are “out,” we need a Judaism that is for the “community” of those who are “doing Jewish” – including partners from different faith traditions  who are not Jewish themselves. In such a radically inclusive Jewish community, more interfaith families will chose to identify their families and children as Jewish, while finding meaning and learning much from Christian and other faith traditions.

Moving from Welcoming and Hospitality, to Inclusion

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When asked in a recent interview what’s new and different about my arguments in Radical Inclusion: Engaging Interfaith Families for a Thriving Jewish Future, I pointed to my emphasis on the need to adapt the fundamental attitudes and underlying philosophies Jews have about interfaith marriage.

I’d like to expand on that answer. There is a progression from the essential, but by themselves insufficient, stages of welcoming and hospitality, to inclusion, as leaders in the fields of LGBTQ, people of color and people with disabilities inclusion, both in and outside of the Jewish world, have explained. Inclusion requires an examination and adaptation of underlying attitudes towards those to be included, and adaptive change in both those to be included and the established system with which they engage.

The best explanation I’ve seen of this progression is by David Brubaker of Congregational Consulting Group, Beyond Hospitality to Inclusion. What Brubaker says about congregations is equally applicable to families, other organizations and communities:

A hospitable congregation welcomes visitors in formal and informal ways, showing visitors that existing members are glad that they’ve come. Handshakes are offered and introductions made, and (when the hospitality is genuine) the visitor leaves feeling that his or her presence was truly appreciated.

…. [G]enuine inclusion is something else altogether. Having been welcomed into a congregation offers no assurance that a visitor will also be fully included. While hospitality is generally extended to visitors, inclusion is a much deeper form of acceptance. Warm hospitality may entice me to give the congregation a second visit. But only genuine inclusion will convince me to remain part of the community. I will stay if I feel I truly belong. (emphasis added) … We are quick to welcome but slow to include.

Hospitality requires no adaptation on the part of the congregation. (Friendliness and welcoming, yes, but no deep change.) Inclusion is quite different. When a congregation begins to integrate people from a racial group or socio-economic status different from its own dominant culture, it usually must adapt its way of being to be genuinely inclusive. Modes of worship may need to broaden. Methods of decision-making may need to change. And interaction patterns among members may need to evolve…. New ideas will stretch the prevailing doctrines and new energies will stress the existing systems.

Inclusion is not assimilation. Inclusion is an adaptive process whereby the newcomers adopt many of the ways of the established group, while at the same time the established culture stretches and evolves to reflect the gifts and needs of the newcomers.

The key lesson from Brubaker’s analysis is that genuine inclusion of interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions in Jewish families, organizations and communities requires that they feel that they truly belong – and that requires adaptive change to new ways of being that stretches both sides in the process.

But what is necessary for interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions to feel that they truly belong? Paraphrasing the Religious Institute (in the context of LGBTQ inclusion), interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions need to be “made to feel like they are part of the family. That is the goal of full inclusion – to make [them] full members of the faith community, with full opportunities to participate and equal responsibilities to serve.”

That is consistent with how I describe radical inclusion: adapting attitudes such that interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions are regarded and treated as equal to inmarried couples and Jews. Similarly, in the context of disabilities inclusion, the Ruderman Foundation seeks “to raise awareness of disability inclusion and impact widespread social attitudes toward people with disabilities.” Ruderman aims to shift views of disability from a matter of charity, to a matter of civil rights; radical inclusion aims to shift views of interfaith couples and partners from sub-optimal to equal.

One essential step in making people feel they belong is talking about them. Paraphrasing Be’chol Lashon, a leader in the field of Jews of Color inclusion, “Jews … tend to avoid talking about interfaith marriage. Interfaith marriage remains the proverbial ‘elephant in the room,’ miring Jewish organizations in institutional inertia.” Again paraphrasing the Religious Institute, “Turning welcome into inclusion is an ongoing commitment to recognize the lives and experiences of interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions. Deliberate action and vocal advocacy – ACTING. OUT. LOUD. – mark the difference between welcome and full inclusion.” In Radical Inclusion I address many of the adaptive changes in policies and programs that will follow once new inclusive attitudes are adopted.

I often hear people say that their organization or their movement is already sufficiently welcoming of interfaith families. But as the Religious Institute noted in the context of LGBTQ inclusion, there is “a tendency toward complacency among many congregations once the rainbow banner is unfurled…. [M]any clergy and congregants consider LGBT inclusion a ‘non-issue’ because ‘everyone knows we’re welcoming.’”

Brubaker concludes that “while hospitality is important and wonderful, genuine inclusion is foundational to congregational vitality. No congregation can grow without being both hospitable and inclusive…. [T]he alternative to genuine inclusion is inevitable decline. Congregations that refuse to include new people along with their new ways of being (emphasis in original) will inevitably discover that new people have no desire to affiliate.” That’s what’s new about radical inclusion, and why it is so important.

What’s Radical About Radical Inclusion?

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This essay originally appeared in JTA (under the title “Passover’s Real Message Is about Celebrating Interfaith Families”) and is reprinted with permission.

The enduring lesson of Passover is the obligation that appears 36 times in the Torah, more than any other – “you shall love [the stranger] as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:34).

Traditional Jewish attitudes that view interfaith marriage as wrong — with the implication that those from different faith traditions are not worthy marriage partners — challenge that basic Jewish sensibility, leaving interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions feeling not loved but excluded.

This Passover, if trends continue, slightly more than half of interfaith couples will attend a seder (the 2013 Pew Report found that 54 percent did). It’s clear to me, based on my experience, that many couples who do attend do not feel excluded — they make the choice not to go for reasons intrinsic to their own lives. These reasons may include Jewish partners who themselves lack familiarity or experience with seders.

Still other couples who don’t attend understand that their participation is desired, as many Jews and Jewish organizations do strive to be welcoming.

But inclusion of interfaith couples requires more than just welcoming them. Attitudes that discourage interfaith marriage and policies that restrict partners from different faith traditions from full participation in Jewish life are not inclusive. Loving the stranger, in the context of interfaith marriage, means embracing both members of interfaith couples as members of the Jewish group equal to inmarried couples and Jews.

True inclusion is radical, and radical inclusion is hard. It stands the traditional understanding that Judaism is for Jews only — that what matters is being Jewish — on its head. It challenges the deeply held preference of many Jews that their children marry other Jews. But a Judaism for Jews only is alienating to the vast majority of liberal Jews who do intermarry, to their partners and to their families.

Traditionally, there was no distinction between being Jewish and doing Jewish — there were only Jews, an ethnic, socially exclusivist group who followed Jewish rituals, customs and traditions. But in 2013, the Pew Survey of American Jews found that 72 percent of non-Orthodox Jews are intermarrying. There now are many people from different faith traditions partnered with Jews who want to (or might want to) engage in Jewish life. The future of liberal Jewish life depends on more of these people who are not Jews doing Jewish. If they continue to be regarded as and made to feel other and excluded, they won’t.

Conversion, while a wonderful personal choice to be celebrated, cannot be viewed as the desired result in interfaith marriages — partners from different faith traditions need to feel that they are loved just the way they are.

In the traditional reading, Jewish peoplehood extends only to born Jews and those who convert. Peoplehood is both the source of the traditional Jewish attitudes that disfavor interfaith marriage and what makes it hard for partners from different faith traditions to feel a sense of belonging in Jewish communities.

In a radically inclusive perspective, the Jewish covenant is between not God and the Jews but God and all those who were assembled at Mount Sinai, a multitude that included “the stranger in the midst of your camp” (Deuteronomy 29:9-12). Today, that multitude includes people who are doing Jewish, no matter what faith they were born into.

A radically inclusive perspective focuses not on the Jewish people but on the Jewish community – “the entire community of the children of Israel” (Leviticus 19:2). Identifying as a Jew motivates Jewish engagement, so identity remains important for Jews and is desirable for the children of interfaith couples; some partners from different faith traditions may come to identify as Jews. But partners who do Jewish while continuing to identify with another faith must be fully included as part of the Jewish community.

Radical inclusion permits full participation, with the answer to all questions about “who can do what” guided by what will open doors to Jewish engagement. Partners from different faiths who are doing Jewish should be allowed, indeed encouraged, to lead prayers that refer to us, including the Torah blessings.

Interfaith couples should be able to easily find rabbis who will officiate their weddings without imposing conditions, and co-officiate their weddings with clergy of other faiths. People in interfaith relationships should be admitted and ordained by rabbinic seminaries, as intermarried rabbis would be the ultimate role model for interfaith couples’ Jewish engagement. Interfaith couples who say they are raising their children “both” should not be turned away from Jewish organizations, including religious schools.

Expressing a preference that our children marry Jews conveys a message that partners from different faiths and interfaith relationships are suboptimal. That risks alienating those who do intermarry, as so many will. We cannot prefer inmarriage and be as radically inclusive as we need to be.

Adopting radically inclusive attitudes and policies at Passover and year round is a concrete way to actualize Passover’s enduring lesson to love the stranger, and will increase the chance of seeing our children, and even more important our grandchildren, Jewishly engaged.

Positive Messaging About Interfaith Families

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This essay originally appeared in eJewishPhilanthropy and is reprinted with permission.

On the eve of the Jewish Funders Network 2019 Conference, what priority is being given to efforts to engage interfaith families Jewishly? Judging by recent messaging sent by the organized Jewish community on a national level, we are failing to address the reality of interfaith marriage. Interfaith couples and the partners from different faith traditions are largely disregarded, absent from the discussion.

At the end of January an email from the Jewish Federations of North America’s new board chair announced “a marquis collective impact initiative focused on engaging the next generations of Jews with Jewish life and community.” The new study on the groundbreaking work being done with the Federations’ investments in Jewish education and engagement is an excellent presentation on the value of Jewish engagement, focusing on goals of Jewish education, including introducing people to Jewish life and community, helping them understand the relevance of Jewish tradition to their lives, helping them to build a better world, and more.

But there was no mention of the interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions to whom these goals are or can be relevant. None of the federations’ funding appears explicitly to be going to programmatic efforts designed for interfaith families; 25% is going to day schools and the balance to “teens’ experiences, adult learning, Hillel and other campus programs, family engagement, synagogues and camps, the inclusion of those with special needs, welcoming newcomers to communities, and much, much more.” When interfaith marriage appears in the presentation, it’s a negative: “With a high intermarriage rate outside of Orthodoxy, and with the children of intermarried families now themselves intermarrying, we don’t know what the future of Judaism will be. There is uncertainty….”

The presentation does acknowledge that “for some,” Jewish education is now addressing “what does it mean to live all of my religious and ethnic identities – where does being Jewish fit in?” But it does not say explicitly and emphatically, as it could, that with 72% of non-Orthodox Jews intermarrying, Jewish education efforts need to prioritize reaching, attracting and engaging interfaith families.

One of the comments to the presentation says, “My great concern and nightmare is that we build a wonderful education system but way too few Jewish children enter it.” It’s time to unapologetically state that the source of more families and children for Jewish education has got to be interfaith families.

In the middle of February, the Reform movement’s Department of Audacious Hospitality announced a new podcast, “Wholly Jewish.” The first installment is a very moving story of a man raised in a Christian family who embraced Judaism as an adult. This excellent podcast will very appropriately highlight that Jews encompass many different ethnicities, cultures, perspectives, and gender and sexual identities, that these multi-faceted identities strengthen and enrich our Jewishness, and that the diversity of our community should be honored and celebrated.

But again, although the podcast is inspired by “commitment to embracing our differences” and seeks “to honor the entirety of our diverse and beautiful community” and says “we must take seriously the voices and perspectives of all our communities’ members” (emphasis in the original), interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions are not mentioned.

Instead of saying “We acknowledge and appreciate … the contributions to our sacred tapestry that Jews from innumerable backgrounds have made and continue to make to this day,” it would be so much more inclusive to refer to the contributions that Jews and their partners have made and continue to make.

Fortunately, some more positive messages can be found on the individual and local level. Conservative rabbi Harry Pell, writing about the future of non-Orthodox day schools, recently asked “how might day schools appeal to [multi-faith] families as a compelling setting in which to provide their children with both a Jewish and secular education?” Reform rabbi Micah Streiffer, coming from traditionally less-inclusive Canada, recently wrote that “Intermarried Families Are Also Jewish Families.”

One of my own rabbis, Allison Berry, at last Friday evening Shabbat services, in lieu of translating “ohev amo Yisrael” with the prayerbook’s “who loves your people Israel,” instead said “who loves all of us, Israel” – phrasing designed to make everyone in the congregation, including the partners from different faith traditions, feel included.

Perhaps most hopefully, the Atlanta federation is partnering with InterfaithFamily to offer The Interchange, convening professionals, lay leaders, clergy and funders to promote interfaith family engagement. InterfaithFamily has also launched the first cohort of the Rukin Rabbinic Fellows to build a network of rabbis equipped to work with interfaith families. These announcements combine positive messages with concrete efforts towards engaging interfaith families.

Messages, of course, reflect underlying attitudes. In my new book, Radical Inclusion: Engaging Interfaith Families for a Thriving Jewish Future, I argue that everything follows from attitudes; if more policy makers and funders adopted positive attitudes towards interfaith marriage, we would then see inclusive policies that invite participation by interfaith families, and the kind of massive concerted communal effort to engage them that is needed.

I continue to hope for broad-based advocacy in favor of a positive response to interfaith marriage, with messaging that unmistakably and confidently conveys that we are eager to include interfaith couples and partners from different faith traditions in Jewish life and community.