Question: Are interfaith families an American thing? Who reads this blog? Who reads my books? How do the the joys and challenges of being an interfaith family resonate in other countries, and continents? Last week, which was not atypical, people from 40 countries viewed this blog. I challenge you to guess which ones! (Spoiler alert in the last paragraph).
Having lived for years in Senegal, and for years in Brazil, I like to think I have a global consciousness, or as close to one as an American can have. So The Interfaith Family Journalwas designed to work for people of any and all nationalities, from any and all cultures, from any religion or none, on every continent. International readers, I am excited to hear from you, to find out how the Journalworked for you, and your family.
Answer: In the past week alone, people have visited this blog from the US, India, the UK, Canada, Singapore, Australia, Indonesia, Hong Kong, Italy, South Africa, Ghana, New Zealand, Ireland, Germany, Trinidad & Tobago, Lebanon, Denmark, Gambia, Pakistan, Zambia, Sweden, Saudi Arabia, Mozambique, Romania, Switzerland, Madedonia, Belgium, Bahrain, Malaysia, Mauritius, Morocco, Bangladesh, Kenya, Nigeria, Norway, Zimbabwe, Finland, Jamaica, Philippines, and Turkey.
On March 31st, you can hold in your hands an interactive book designed to support interfaith families including Atheists, Buddhists, Christians, Daoists, Ethiopian Orthodox…the whole alphabet of religions and worldviews.
The Journal draws on decades of personal experience, surveys of hundreds of interfaith family members, years of facilitating workshops and coaching couples around the world, and conversations with all of you in person and online. Interfaith families helped to test drive the manuscript, spending hours working through the questions and exercises. Your feedback helped create a more perfect Journal. And your first reactions were humbling:
caused me to think deeply about why I think something or why a certain tradition is important to me
allowed self-reflection, helped us focus on issues in manageable segments, and encouraged us to really listen to each other’s viewpoint
helped us understand how we envision expressing our faiths to both ourselves and each other
invited us to have a conversation instead of leading us to choose a side.
had the feel of an unbiased, safe, non-judgmental couples’ counseling workshop
The test drivers thought the questions and exercises in the Journal were…
very helpful in determining what parts of our religious background are spiritually based vs culturally based, which was invaluable for us
a good mix of practical and deep
helpful because they covered so much ground and approached issues from a number of angles
a great tool for periodically checking in on growth or development in the course of the interfaith relationship (and especially during times of change, such as welcoming a child)
Different test drivers found different parts of the Journal particularly valuable, whether it was the interactive questions at the start of each chapter, the framework for talking about celebrations of life and death, the exercises designed to engage with extended family, or the creative family activities at the end of each chapter.
Something about answering a high number of questions in relatively quick succession felt very productive.
The Journal led to us calling our parents and grandparents to talk about their religious lives growing up. It was quite fascinating
We had never talked about death as it pertains to our religions. This section opened us up to that conversation for the first time.
We loved the creative sections. We were huge fans of the religions ancestry tree exercise. That is one that we plan on doing again when our children are old enough to participate.
This is the moment to pre-order copies for yourself and your interfaith family members, and to let friends and family know about the book by sending them a link to this page. My goal with this book has always been to help as many interfaith families as I can, around the country and the world, and I need your help to reach them.
The video book trailer for The Interfaith Family Journal is here.
While you wait for your pre-ordered journals to arrive on March 31st, I hope you get a kick out of watching this video featuring…
enthusiastic praise from experts
gorgeous cover art
and great indie music courtesy of Ladle Fight
…all packed into less than one minute.
For years, couples and families have been asking my advice on how to get joy from being an interfaith family. So I created the first and only book published to support any and all interfaith (or religious/non-religious, or completely secular) families. Whether your family roots are Hindu/Jewish, or Christian/atheist, or Pagan/Buddhist/Unitarian, this is the first interactive journal written for you.
The Interfaith Family Journal can help any and every family through a five-week process of discerning your own best path. How will you celebrate holidays? How will you honor births and deaths? How will you find a supportive community? And how will you create a positive way of engaging with extended family members who may not understand your plan, whatever that plan is?
In recent weeks, I’ve been describing the book to people I meet, and the reaction I get is either,
“Oh wow! We’re an
interfaith family! We need this book!”
“Huh, that’s funny. We’re not even an interfaith
family, but actually, this sounds like it would be really helpful for us.”
So, seriously, this book can help anyone and everyone. The trailer gives you a sneak peek at some of the praise coming in from rabbis, ministers, authors, therapists, adult interfaith kids, and other experts. Stay tuned for more endorsements and book launch news soon, by subscribing to this blog, following my author page on facebook, and following on twitter @susankatzmiller.
And please do post and email the direct youtube link to the video trailer for friends who might benefit from The Interfaith Family Journal. We are a global virtual community of interfaith families, of every configuration and persuasion. And though some of us still face resistance, we are rising up to support each other. So thank you for helping all of us by being part of this community!
Five years ago today, Beacon Press published Being Both: Embracing Two Religions in One Interfaith Family. For me, that publication day was the culmination of three generations of experience in my interfaith family. And it was the moment when I took a stand, after a lifetime of hearing that interfaith families are problematic, for a more objective journalistic and academic treatment of the benefits and challenges of being an interfaith family. I also hoped to shift the interfaith family narrative away from straight white Jewish/Christian couples choosing one religion, to encompass the kaleidoscopic interfaith family reality of many religions, many family configurations, and many interfaith family choices.
I am so grateful to all of you who continue to buy the book, talk about it with friends and family, write online reviews, and invite me to speak and give workshops. As a result of your support, I believe that Being Both has made a difference in how religious institutions and clergy view interfaith families, and in how we as interfaith families think about ourselves.
Another goal, in writing Being Both, was to help spur a whole new interfaith family literature, making space for the voices of people from Muslim/Christian and Hindu/Sikh and Pagan/atheist families. Together, we are doing that. And Being Both is now cited in academic literature, and taught in universities and seminaries, helping to build a field of serious scholarship around the topics of interfaith families, multiple religious practice, and complex religious identities.
Eventually, I realized that I could not personally meet with every interfaith family, and that in order to help more interfaith couples and families, I needed to write another book. The Interfaith Family Journal(coming this March from Skinner House) is for any interfaith couple or family, living anywhere, with any two or more religions in the family tree. This workbook, filled with interactive exercises and creative activities, takes couples or families through a five-week process to help them figure out how to amplify the joys of being an interfaith family, and surf through the challenges with confidence.
I read once that five years is the perfect spacing between siblings, because each child gets the full attention of the parents. And we know that each child has unique needs and gifts. I think of Being Both as a lively and challenging child, filled with what my Jewish father would call chutzpah, and what my Protestant mother would have called “animal high spirits.” It’s a book that is hard to ignore, full of ideas and stories, daring to claim space in academia and in religious institutions for families celebrating more than one religion.
In contrast, I think of The Interfaith Family Journal as a highly sensitive and introverted child: observing, asking gentle but profound questions, reflecting back. Rather than staking out academic territory, the Journal is entirely devoted to meeting the needs of interfaith families who are desperately seeking an objective framework for moving forward, a practical resource based on my decades of experience.
And while this newborn Journal will be, in some sense, a younger sibling, it has a broader and more universal goal. It will serve the whole wide world of interfaith families, including any and all religions, single parents, adoptive parents, LGBTQ people in interfaith families, intercultural/interracial interfaith families, those who want to choose one religion, those who want to teach their children many religions, and religious nones.
Often, folks ask me, “What’s your next book about?”
This book, and the next, and the next, will be about interfaith families. I have an entire library of interfaith family books in my head, clamoring to be written. The interfaith family is my life’s work–the work I was born to do–and I intend to bring you as many of those books as I possibly can.
I am thrilled to announce that my next book, The Interfaith Family Journal, will be published by Skinner House on March 15th, 2019. In the Journal, thoughtful questions, interactive exercises, and creative activities will take you through a five-week process to untangle misunderstandings and enhance the joy of being an interfaith family. With the help of the Journal, you can find your own best pathway as an interfaith couple or family. There is no other book out there designed to help you in this way.
I really love the bright colors and crafty style of this book cover! The cover of my first book, Being Both: Embracing Two Religions in One Interfaith Family, featured a Venn diagram with two overlapping circles. This book extends the metaphor, with circles of many colors, overlapping in a multitude of different ways, as our families do!
Whether your family is Muslim and Christian, Jewish and Buddhist, Hindu and atheist, or any other set of religions, this Journal will support you. Whether you are dating, engaged, married, a single parent, a guardian, a family with younger or older children, or empty nesters, this Journal will support you. Even if your family is made up of two or more people from the same religion, the Journal can help you in figuring out the best way to do religion together.
The Interfaith Family Journal does not promote one single way of being an interfaith family. Instead, the Journal process will inspire deep conversation, and create better understanding of how one religion, or two religions, or more, or none, would work for your family.
Creating this book, I worked closely with our global interfaith family village. So I am sending out huge thanks to all of the families who test drove the Journal, and to my colleagues with interfaith expertise from multiple religions who gave feedback on the manuscript.
I hope all of you, blog readers, are as excited as I am to be part of bringing this Journal to the widest possible audience next spring, to provide support to interfaith families across the country and the globe. Make sure you are subscribed to this blog, and follow my facebook page and twitter feed, for all the news leading up to the book launch. And stay tuned for more #InterfaithJournal news soon, as we put the finishing touches on the book and plan launch events across the country.
Earth, Wind & Fire is the soundtrack to my formative years, and the song “September” always gets me out on the dance floor. I was lucky to experience both the joy of nostalgia and the joy of celebrating love while dancing at two interfaith weddings in recent weeks: one Jewish and Christian, and the other Hindu and Unitarian.
This year, those recent moments of pleasure are helping to carry me through an unsettling first week of September. Yesterday was 9/11. Those of us in New York and Washington, in particular, think of the eeriness of the blue sky, the panic, the unfolding horror. And then we think of how many people in the U.S. from the Middle East, from South Asia, from Latin America–anyone with brown skin or a “different” name–have been harassed, targeted, and in some cases killed, in the years since then. And we think of how our government leadership has too often fueled that misunderstanding and hatred.
At the same time, on a very personal level, this week is both the anniversary of my mother’s death, and of her birth. September was always Mom’s month. I always associate the excitement of back-to-school with her excellence as a mother: the new school supplies, the thoughtfully packed lunch, the deep engagement with our lives. But now, the sudden coolness, the drop in humidity, the angle of light, the smell of September trees and plants, all of it signals my entire body to remember 9/11, and the morning that I was with my mother when she died two years ago on September 14th.
This year, these public and private sources of pain are bookmarked by the two Jewish high holy days, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (always ten days apart). I grew up marking those days faithfully in my Reform Jewish family (with the support of my Episcopalian mother), attending hours of synagogue services at Temple Beth Elohim (“TBE”) in Wellesley, Massachusetts. And I still find the liturgy of reflection and renewal inspiring and restorative.
Here in the Washington DC area, we are lucky to have the Interfaith Families Project (IFFP), with high holy day services designed to be radically inclusive for anyone connected to Judaism in any way, and to acknowledge all that is good in our partnerships with Christians and people of other (or no) religions. Because it turns out that a service that does this is also an accessible and inspiring service for a whole range of people, including Jewish people.
What does a service designed by and for an interfaith families community look like? Each year is different, since there is a huge body of music and poetry and theology to draw on: traditional and contemporary Jewish liturgies, and sources from religions and cultures of the world. This year, we sang “Morning Has Broken” (a Christian hymn made popular by a man who later converted to Islam), and “If We Only Have Love” (a Jacques Brel chanson), alongside the traditional tunes for Avinu Malkeinu and many other parts of the service.
And we sang contemporary composer Noah Aronson’s lovely Bar’chu (call to prayer), “Am I Awake,” led by our own Rich Shegogue (who was raised Catholic). This provided a deep connection for me, since for many years, I have spent one of the high holy days with my parents at TBE, my childhood synagogue, where it just so happens that Noah Aronson was the longtime composer-in-residence. This is the temple where I became a Bat Mitzvah. (And also, the temple where the rabbi refused to officiate at my marriage). Since my family joined over 50 years ago, the synagogue has grown from 50 families to over 1000 families.
Sitting with my parents in the vast and glorious modern worship space at TBE, I have been lucky to learn many of his new tunes from Aronson himself, strumming his guitar as he leads thousands of voices. So, hearing “Am I Awake” this year in our more informal and intimate service at IFFP, served as an unexpected thread of connection between my experiences.
At IFFP, we remain a DIY (do-it-yourself) community–even the special high holy day cover for our torah was made by a community member, appliqued with a pomegranate to symbolize the sweetness of the new year (photo above). What makes our services feel especially inclusive? Maybe it’s the moment when a couple gets up and talks about Rosh Hashanah from their perspectives as partners–one Jewish, one Mexican Catholic–and what this community means to them. Or maybe it’s the fact that our rabbi, Rain Zohav, feels free to draw on Christian mystics (including Julian of Norwich and Meister Eckhart) for her Rosh Hashanah talk on protecting the earth.
The high holy day opportunity to meditate, reflect, ask forgiveness, and renew vows to make the world a better place–all of this will help to get me through my mother’s yahrtzeit (the anniversary of her death), and her birthday, and another year of living in Washington DC. And tonight, midway between the two high holy days, I will be writing postcards to get out the vote in a neighboring state for the midterm elections. Because the high holy days inspire me to work for justice. And because, in September, all of us have the opportunity to begin again.
Heads up! Rosh Hashanah starts early this year, on the evening of September 9th. Over the past decade, in some of my over 300 essays here, I have written about many different aspects of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, from the context of an interfaith family. Here is one of the most popular essays from that collection. –SKM
When we experience the religious rituals of the “other,” we usually cannot help but respond with an internal running commentary, seeking connections to our own past. I know that whenever I heard the blast of a conch shell at an Afro-Brazilian rite during my years in Brazil, my mind would skip back to the sound of the shofar in my childhood temple.
On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, many Christians (and Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, atheists) find themselves attending services with Jewish partners, or parents, or other family members. These services, while tremendously important to Jews, can be difficult for those without Jewish education to access, due to length, solemnity, and the density of Hebrew. Nevertheless, I always strongly recommend that those of other religions accompany their Jewish partners or parents to synagogue services, both to keep them from feeling lonely, and to learn and reflect.
In our Interfaith Families Project, a community of interfaith families raising children with both Judaism and Christianity in Washington DC, for a decade we had the great fortune to have annual High Holy Day services led by Rabbi Harold White (may his memory be a blessing), a rabbi who spent 40 years working with Jesuits at Georgetown University. Years ago now, he shared with our community these interfaith interconnections to look for on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur:
Awe. Since the highest of holy days in Judaism is actually the weekly Shabbat, many rabbis prefer the term “The Days of Awe” to describe Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Think of awe not as fear, but as a mystic trembling meant to “stir up divine sparks.” Rabbi White compared the swaying of Jews at prayer (known in Yiddish as shuckling) to the quaking of Quakers and the shaking of Shakers. Rhythmic body movement during prayer, whether it’s dancing or repeated bowing, occurs in virtually every religion, from Africa to Asia to American Indian traditions: the mind and body come together, self-consciousness falls away. Says Rabbi White, “Evangelicals have the right idea on this, with hands thrown up in the air.”
Mystical numbers. Yom Kippur marks the end of an annual 40-day spiritual quest in Judaism. All three Abrahamic religions share an obsession with the number 40, which Rabbi White describes as “a magical number in the Middle East. Moses was on Sinai for 40 days, Jesus was in the desert for 40 days, even Ali Baba and the 40 thieves. You think it’s a coincidence. It’s not.”
Asking for Forgiveness. The liturgy of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur hinges on the idea that all of us have sinned. “I know that sounds very Christian, but it’s very Jewish at the same time,” says Rabbi White. “There is no one on the face of the earth who hasn’t sinned.”
Praying for Material Well-Being. For most of the year, Jewish prayer focuses on praise and adoration, rather than petition. Asking for direct intervention tends to be more closely associated with Christian prayer. But Rosh Hashanah is the exception, when Jews pray for health and life. “We don’t ask for anything the rest of the year,” says Rabbi White. “But on the Days of Awe, we ask.”
Birth of Three Faiths. On Rosh Hashanah, the Torah reading describes the arrival of Abraham’s two sons: Sarah gives birth to Isaac, Hagar gives birth to Ishmael. Sarah becomes the matriarch of Judaism (and thus Christianity), Abraham sends Hagar into exile. But in Muslim writings, the heroic Hagar (Hajir) becomes the mother of Islam. Charlotte Gordon (an adult interfaith child) has written a sensitive analysis of the story of Hagar in her book The Woman Who Named God: Abraham’s Dilemma and the Birth of Three Faiths.
Miracles. Sometimes Jewish students approach Rabbi White and assert, with a certain smugness, that Christianity requires belief in miracles and Judaism does not. The Rabbi points to the miracle of the birth of Isaac, when Abraham and Sarah are in deep old-age (Abraham is 100). Genesis specifies that Sarah not only has suffered from lifelong infertility, but is post-menopausal. Virgin birth, post-menopausal birth, both miracles.
Songs and Canticles. The Biblical passage known as the Song of Hannah, a reading from the prophet Samuel, is the haftara reading chosen to complement the Torah reading on the first day of Rosh Hashanah. The infertile Hannah has prayed for and been given a son, and her song of Thanksgiving is thought to have inspired the most famous of all canticles in the Christian liturgy, the Song of Mary, known as the Magnificat.
Finding a welcoming service, getting off work, arranging childcare, sitting through services, fasting, gleaning meaning from ancient prayers in an unfamiliar language: none of this is easy. But it is excellent experiential education for anyone connected to Judaism through family ties. For Jews, having the support of a partner in these days of deep reflection and soul-searching, of repentance and renewal, provides comfort and bonding. For interfaith children, having both parents sitting with them at services provides a clear message of respect and appreciation and love, by the parents for each other, and for the children, and for ancient ritual.