Things you’ve probably heard if you grew up in a mixed religion household

I was raised in a household where we were talked to instead of talked at, encouraged to challenge existing norms and allowed to express our unique beliefs despite our parents’ standings on the subject. My parents are not cardboard copies of each other, nor I of them. We all hold separate belief systems, although with common moral compasses.

My dad is Jewish and my mom is Catholic. I consider myself half Jewish and half Catholic. I am speaking from solely my own experience, but if you grow up with a mixed religious background, here are some things you might hear.

‘You can’t be half of a religion’

My math teacher once told me I could not be half Catholic and half Jewish. She said: “You either believe in Jesus, or you don’t.” Despite the seemingly inappropriate Algebra topic, I continued our conversation with an argument that one could believe in Jesus half of the time, and even if this wasn’t the case, one could define her faith however she pleased. Calling myself half Jewish and half Catholic allowed me to honor both sides of my heritage.

‘Whose side?’

As if probing to invalidate my half Jewishness, people would note time and time again that I was technically Catholic because having a Jewish dad doesn’t count as much as having a Jewish mom. Yes, I understand and respect how the tradition works. No, I won’t define myself otherwise, because your definition doesn’t match my own. This is my heritage.

‘Do you get double presents?’

My winter holidays last extra long, especially if Hanukkah starts early. Part of our Catholic tradition extends the Christmas holiday until the Epiphany on January 6, but while my holidays last longer, my family in particular doesn’t do double presents. Once, my siblings and I got a pogo stick for Hanukkah and a ping pong table for Christmas, though. Despite whether or not families do double presents, I think having double holidays is lucky enough.

‘Hanukkah Bush’

The evergreen tree adorned with homemade ornaments was affectionately referred to as our Hanukkah Bush by my father. Miniature glass menorahs hung from the branches alongside reindeer and Santa Claus.

‘You don’t have to embrace every aspect of this religion’

My mom always taught me the most important thing to take away from church was to love your neighbor. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve heard amazing sermons on love, but I’ve also heard some very unsettling sermons about exclusivity and damnation.

Sometimes such uncompromising structure can make me uncomfortable, but my parents let me know I always had the freedom to chose what I believed. They taught me I don’t have to believe every word of a religious text to have faith. Faith is very personal, and I should build in a way that leads me to fulfillment.

‘Are you confused?’

Yes, merging two seemingly contrasting belief systems proved to be extremely challenging at times. I have struggled. It wasn’t until I began looking for similarities that my spiritual journey became easier. Prayer is so similar to meditation, community service is so universally valued, love is so widely desired and peace is so urgently needed. My goal in my spiritual journey is to find peace within myself, and then spread it. There is no conflict in my religious heritage about that.

‘You’re wrong’

Many people disagree with the idea that one can believe in more than one belief system. And that’s OK – I do not seek anyone else’s approval for this faith which is uniquely my own. Faith is personal, I do not adhere to a certain rule book to please others.

I am OK if someone else thinks I am wrong, because while my faith may be wrong for them, it is right for me. No threat of damnation, no method of persuasion, no condescending tone can undermine the incredible growth I have undergone due to my mixed religious background. Being Jewish and Catholic has allowed me to be openminded and accepting of difference.