December Dilemma (Oy! It's Christmas Time Again!)

Shel Israel’s essay, A Jew’s View of Christmas, has cause me to reflect on my own journey as a Jew who happened to marry a non-Jew and now celebrates Christmas. Well, let me rephrase that. We don’t exactly celebrate Christmas in the religious sense. We get a Christmas tree. But, I can assure you, that is more than I ever thought I’d ever do. Before I continue, however, I’d like to share my one piece of advice to any Jew who is contemplating marrying outside of the religion: Marry an agnostic. It will make your life much easier. Believe me. The less the “other” God is involved the better. Also, when you have children, get this book: Light the Lights!: A Story About Celebrating Hanukkah and Christmas by Margaret Moorman.

A little background: I was brought up in a secular household on Long Island with a strong Jewish identity but no formal training. My brother, nine years older,  was Bar Mitzvahed and my sister, six years older, was a Hebrew School dropout. By the time I came along,  my parents had long given up their Temple membership.  However, we did celebrate the High Holidays (Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur), Passover and, of course, Hanukkah. I even got to stay home from school on the High Holidays as long as I went to services. My parents didn’t go,  I went with friends and spent most of the time in the lobby. (Services were much more boring back then.)

I have lovely memories of Hanukkah. My mother, like most Jewish parents in America, played it up as best she could despite the fact that, honestly, you just cannot compete with Christmas. But it was our special holiday and, hey, it was an eight-day holiday at that! That meant eight presents! (Of course, compared to all the gifts under any given Christmas tree, that’s not that much. But what did I know?)  My mother would lay seven of our Hanukkah presents out on the dining room floor underneath the window where our Menorah was displayed and we got to choose one gift to open each night. On the eighth night we were presented with the big (read: most expensive) gift. Sometimes, it would be hidden and we’d have to find it. The last one I remember finding was a gold bangle bracelet in the linen closet. (Unfortunately, it was too small and I don’t think I ever did get a replacement.)

I don’t recall having too much Christmas envy as a child. Despite the overabundance of Christmas music, decorations and other public displays of the holiday, I never felt slighted because it wasn’t my holiday. I still don’t, however I do admit to a little smugness when it comes to really over-the-top and tacky decorations. I also really dislike the color combination of red and green. Who thought of that anyway?

Ok, I did go through one envious period – when I became best friends with Amy in junior high school. Although Amy was Jewish, when her mom married a Christian they began to celebrate Christmas – in a big way. They always had a big, beautiful tree in their big, beautiful house and a really fun tree-trimming party every year. Amy’s mom embraced the holiday with abandon and, for the first time, I had major Christmas envy. (Perhaps I can blame Amy’s mom for my rebellious tendency to date non-Jews in the years that followed. But that’s an analysis for another time and place.)

Fast forward 13 years and, although head over heels in love, I’m breaking up with Don, my Christian boyfriend, because he tells me he isn’t sure if he can raise his children Jewish. That was my tipping point. I could marry outside of the religion but I was damn sure not going to raise my kids anything but Jewish.  I couldn’t, in my heart, do