Confertzel: Interfaith Love and Marriage in Relation to Parents

In a recent conversation with two students I tutor, one student, John, bluntly asked: "Do you believe in--" He then paused to look-up a word on his phone's dictionary, "--God?"

This is a difficult topic to address regardless of a language barrier; to explain one's conceptions of "God" to someone who does not even know the word for "God" is a mental exercise in its own right.

John did not intend for the conversation to veer into philosophy, though. He quickly followed my simplistic answer with a story. John had recently proposed to his girlfriend: He showed me a silver band as validation and explained that modern Chinese custom is to use the engagement ring as an opportunity to exchange what Westerners might view as a "Promise Ring"--a non-diamond ring that signifies commitment but carries substantially less gravity. And given different economic standards, I am not surprised that the practice of giving a diamond ring (much less a three-months-salary-worth ring) is a rare occurence in China.

In any case, John's parents were not nearly as thrilled with his decision to propose to his girlfriend of fourteen months. According to John's mother, John "must" marry someone who believes in "God." John's girlfriend does not. (On a saddening side note, John's grandmother disapproves of John's girlfriend because she is not as pretty as John's cousin's wife. Therefore, John's grandmother and the rest of the family will "lose face" if he marries his girlfriend.)

"What can I do to change my mother's mind?"

Obviously, I advised honesty about his love. But I cautioned him that there are many details about the situation that make it so only he can truly find the "right" answer. I advised him to take into account the balance of tradition, legacy, familial love, independence, his own love, and his girlfriend's love. Then I asked him if he believed in "God": "No."

John loves his girlfriend and is obviously still interested in marrying her. His own faith (or lack thereof) will probably influence his decision heavily. Which is, I think, rare in China, a country that heavily restricts religious practices (among Chinese citizens) beyond certain Buddhist traditions--though these are generally practiced as National tradition or superstition as opposed to spiritual rites.

John's linguistic skills strained his ability to explain what exactly his mother meant by "God." My understanding is that John's mother is Christian but retains Buddhist beliefs. This amalgam is not that odd in a religiously liberal society (i.e. The West), but I wonder about its commonality in a religiously repressed and restricted society like China.

Though my kishkas compels me to emphasize the ethics of family, legacy, and individual passion (in the form of faith, self-affirmation, and/or love), I contacted Rabbi Mintz, a rabbi of a Chabad House in The U.S.A., to inquire about his opinion on the matter.

I was pleased to receive a prompt reply with an abundance of information about rabbinical opinions on interfaith relationships and marriages--specifically, of course, relating to Jewish men and women dating gentile men and women.

In this exchange of e-mails between a rabbi and gentile man in Argentina, the latter tried to flesh out why his Jewish girlfriend's family alienated him and objected to their daughter's relationship. Gershon, the rabbi, notes that, despite traditional and modern interpretations of Jewish text, the Torah remains the guiding and essential text for Jewish ethic and faith. Herein, "[t]he Torah clearly defines whom a Jew may marry and whom not." (I am not sure that Gershon should have paralleled Juan's relationship with one between a brother and sister, but I understand the intent.)

Initially, the crux of the dialogue (which alludes to several other cultural conflicts) is Juan's confusion over the double standard between modern practices of Judaism (e.g. choices to not observe shabbat, to not keep kosher, etc.) and the traditional view that Jews are a "chosen people" (or "special people") who must combat assimilation. I do not want to analyze interfaith love and marriages too extensively in this post (a topic that would require a deeper examination into what it actually means to be "Jewish); rather, I want to address how such relationships relate to the relationships between the individuals in the couple and their parents--much like my student John's tension with his mother. (For some rabbinical opinions on Jews marrying non-Jews, here are some more links that Rabbi Mintz recommended.)

While Juan and Gershon's dialogue occasionally digresses into implicit hostility (on frustrated and hurt Juan's part) and clear expressions of agenda (on the rabbi's part), the two greatly differ in one key aspect: Juan applies social philosophy about human decency and the cross between tradition and modernity, and Gershon uses theology to address the conflict between heart and head as well as the importance of [Jewish] legacy.

While reading, I started to think about the traditional Jewish precept (and commandment) to "honor thy father and mother." Of course, there is no precept or commandment telling us to honor our grandparents: This is implied in the former dictum. Similarly, Chinese people value respecting their elders.

I am under the impression that there may also be the metaphorical implication to "honor thy father and mother": "father and mother" function as symbols for "origin," "heritage," or "legacy."

In this light, I can more clearly see how the decision to pursue interfaith love or marriage can be a reflection of one's respect or "honoring of" his or her "father and mother." With a strict version of this interpretation, the act of pursuing and interfaith relationship or marriage is an act of renouncing one's cultural inheritance--because, as Gershon insinuates, being Jewish is more than just a religious choice. Of course, this is a strict interpretation.

I do not have enough information or confident enough of a grasp on John's relationships to know if his decision to marry his now fiance in the face of his mother's disapproval is an act of renouncing some aspect of his heritage. I am more inclined to believe his situation is a more literal confrontation with "honoring" his mother.

Since Jewish identity shifts with each Jew, the strict interpretation may not apply to all Jews. One Jew may actually view his or her interfaith relationship or marriage as completely Jewish to its core in the ethics the partners practice, in the traditions and education they inter upon their children, and in the perspectives with which they approach their place in the world.

"Being more or less observant is a matter of shades. Being Jewish or not, belonging or not to the same nation, history and destiny is a very clear-cut issue, without any shades of gray." This is a "two-way street" argument that can either be used to put forth the idea that Jews have an obligation to their Jewish legacy or to put forth the assertion that interfaith relationships and marriages will not alter the essential fact that Jews are Jews who have Jewish children.

So, would a rabbi say that John, my student, was dishonoring his mother by continuing his relationship with his fiance who does not believe in John's mother's god? If you have ever asked more than one rabbi a question about ethics, you know that there are several valid and textually-based or tradition-based responses.

Perhaps John's heart is not as great of an issue as the other interpersonal conflicts that strain the relationships of the parties involved. Just as Juan craved for dialogue with Paulina's parents, John must begin to understand his mother's perspective as well as attempt to communicate his own. John's fiance would ideally also play a part in these conversations.

(As a side note, I find it troubling how little of a role Paulina plays in Juan and Gershon's exchange. Where is her agency? What about her account of her relationship [and break-ups] with Juan? What about her conversations with her parents? Before I digress further, I will leave the conversation about women's agency for another Confertzel.)

Herein these stories, I sense that the greatest obstacles to accepting interfaith love and interfaith marriage seem to be the obstructions to communication and ignorance in dialogue. Juan does not talk with Paulina's parents love, faith, and legacy. John's mother and John avoid confronting his deep-seeded emotions--though avoiding emotional exposure is a classic example of saving face in China. 

There is no easy answer, and Juan does not understand this: "I expect a yes or no answer." (When Juan seeks answers from more rabbis, he'll learn how funny this expectation is.) John does understand this.

But regardless of the answers that Juan or John find or do not find, the greatest disservice and dishonor in these scenarios are not acted out in the relationships or hypothetical marriages but in the absence of communication or attempts at understanding.