Giving of the Torah

May. 26, 2004

By BARBARA SOFER

Rebecca knew her mother was Jewish, but it didn't count for much. Her father was a Baptist minister in rural North Carolina, so she and her five siblings went to church and Sunday school. Only occasional short excursions with Aunt Susie reminded her of her mother's heritage. A good student, pretty, vivacious, and athletic, Rebecca was finishing high school and had already been accepted with full scholarship to North Carolina State when her life began to change.

Aunt Susie died, and Rebecca missed her more than she realized. Rebecca remembered her aunt's urging her "to be a Jew." What did that mean? Rebecca looked through the family library and found a book with exactly that title To Be a Jew, by Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin.

"On the basis of their origin," Rebecca read, "Jews everywhere have regarded themselves as members of a family, an expanded family to be sure, and at times a far-flung family, but a family nevertheless. Membership in the family derives from the mother."

Her heart raced. The book was talking about her. Rebecca flipped back to the cover page. To her astonishment, she saw an inscription to her from Aunt Susie, written five years earlier when Rebecca had turned 12 � the age she would have been bat mitzva if she'd been brought up as a Jew. Her parents hadn't given her the book. "That upset me," said Rebecca.

"I wondered what else was being held back from me."

She began to investigate. Help came in unexpected ways � in what Rebecca calls a "series of small miracles." For example, an impressive young man she sat near on a plane turned out to be a Jewish student. They exchanged e-mails. Several months later he sent her the link to the website of the Young Judaea Year Course in Israel. The program promised courses in Judaism, volunteer work, a kibbutz experience, and even two months in the Israeli army. It was open to "Jews of all backgrounds." Like the book, the program seemed to have her name on it. That would mean postponing college. She'd never been to Israel. Registration would close in three days. All the other applications had come in long before. Nonetheless, Rebecca rushed off a letter: "Please accept me."

At orientation, when she met the other 250 teenagers, she realized what "all backgrounds" meant. The others came from a mix of Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform homes. Nearly all had been to Hebrew school or day schools, Jewish summer camps. No one was like her.

SHE PLUNGED into the studies, asking the program rabbis for extra lessons. "There is no way that I could have discovered my Jewish roots at university," she said. "I had to be in Israel, and I had to have the support of the staff and friends. When I first arrived in Israel I focused on learning Hebrew, since I didn't even know the alphabet; but then I began focusing on my Jewish identity. After the army volunteering program, I started to dress more modestly, and I decided to have a bat mitzva to feel part of the Jewish people."

Last Friday, 10 short months after arriving in Israel, Rebecca stood under a shaded canopy at the Glick Overlook on Mount Scopus. Behind her was the Hebrew University's million-dollar wall, listing the 360 organizations and individual donors from all over the world. Below, the city of Jerusalem spread out in its golden beauty. Around her were the participants of the Year Course, soldiers from the army training, cousins who knew Aunt Susie.

It was Rosh Hodesh Sivan, the month of Shavuot, the giving of the Torah. Dressed in a colorful long Indian skirt, Rebecca read from the Torah and became a bat mitzva. "You're awesome," said one of her friends from the year program. "Our parents made our bar- and bat-mitzva ceremonies. You did this all yourself!"

Rebecca's mother is very excited about her daughter's bat mitzva and wonders how she got so disconnected from Judaism. Rebecca says, "Now that I know a lot more about Judaism than my mom, I'm looking forward to teaching her. My dad isn't supportive of this choice � but like all southern Baptists, he's very pro-Israel."

Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah. Wrote Rabbi Donin, "While the Jews who were present at Sinai affirmed their covenant with God, declaring 'We will do and we will listen,' the Torah emphasizes that 'Neither with you only do I make this covenant, but with him that standeth here with us, and also with him that is not here with us this day.' The Talmud interprets the latter part of the verse as a clear reference also to future generations of Jews, and to the future proselytes who would later accept the faith."

Jerusalem being the town it is with no degrees of separation, the late Rabbi Donin's widow lives across the hall from my mother.

Serendipity? All I know is that that it was a beautiful, unforgettable Jerusalem moment when Rebecca from North Carolina accepted the Torah on Mount Scopus, just as her ancestors had at Mount Sinai.