Confused and Ambivalent

 

Confused and Ambivalent

 

I have been in the process of converting old picture slides into a digital format over the past year or two.   One of the old slides, from when I was around five years old, is of me and my parents all dressed up on our Sunday finest.  I think, but am not positive, that it is Easter Sunday and perhaps we are going to church.  However, I do not remember ever going to a Easter Sunday church and I never remember my mother being in a church anytime in my life.  So perhaps that is not what the picture is about. 

I had only one grandparent growing up, my dad’s mother, Harriett.  My grandmother was a deeply religious Christian.  I spent a lot of time with my grandmother.  First, she lived with us, and took care of me, while my mother was in a sanitarium with tuberculosis and later, I spent many nights sleeping over while my parents had social engagements.  I never remember going to church with my grandmother.  I do remember her listening to this Sunday morning church program on the radio, the ‘Church of the Open Door”.  She always excused me from listening but stayed in her bedroom until the program was over.  She and I also read “The Children’s Bible Stories” though what we read, as I recall, were all Old Testament stories.  My favorites were the stories Noah’s Ark and Moses.  We would read those over and over again.   

Another childhood memory is the twice a week Hebrew lesson at Van Nuys City Hall with Mrs. Burkhart.  This started when I was around ten years old.  When I was twelve and approaching my Bar Mitzvah, I needed extra tutoring. I went to Rabbi Berman for private lessons.  I remember that my mother did not think much of synagogue where Rabbi Berman officiated, so she instead found a synagogue off of Western Avenue in Los Angeles.  It was a beautiful synagogue but with an ever-shrinking congregation as most Jews in Los Angeles had already moved further west.  I went to the Synagogue several times before by Bar Mitzvah and then continued to go for at least a couple years after.    I became friends with the Rabbi's son, and we were invited and attended his Bar Mitzvah.  My mother stayed close to the Rabbi the rest of her life and when she died the Rabbi officiated at her funeral. 

At some point in my life my parents separated for a period.  My mother went away to Europe.  I do not know the exact amount of time she was gone but they did reunite and live together until my mother’s death when I was twenty-sever years old.  During a brief period of the time my mother was away, I did go to a Presbyterian Church several times with my father.  This was short-lived, and I recall very little of the experience. 

I recall one conversation with my mother where she talked about being a Christian Scientist sometime before I was born.  I have no idea for how long or exactly when.  My father once told me his golden rule to keep friends was never talk about politics or religion and he didn’t.  He clearly was not a churchgoer.    He seems to very much go and participate in the Jewish activities, and it seems that most of my parents' friends were Jewish.  We lived in the San Fernando Valley in sections that were predominantly Jewish.  My mother bought meat from a Jewish Butcher and Challah and rye breads.  My moms’ relatives were Holocaust survivors, and we spent most Saturday nights with them for several of my pre-teen years. 

As a pre-teen, our house always had a Christmas Tree and Hanukkah was hardly mentioned.  From the time of my Bar Mitzvah forward, we had a menorah and celebrated Hanukkah.  For my whole childhood we had Passover Seders, Easter Brunches, and Rosh Hashanah dinners, and Christmas Day Feasts.  It's no wonder that I’m confused and ambivalent about religion.