Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 40 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Married to Your Spiritual Partner
For the record, I’m not married to my spiritual partner. I married a man who has called himself a “recovering Catholic” (although he says it with much less animosity these days), and we talked about our different spiritual paths (or lack of one). We decided to be married by a Reformed rabbi, who interviewed us to make sure that religion was not going to be an area of conflict. Since I was tenuously attached to Judaism but identified as a Jew, and Jerry didn’t mind my pursuing whatever Jewish practices I wished, the rabbi blessed our merger and performed the wedding ceremony. (I’m sure the fact he and Jerry had both spent many years in the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area had nothing to do with his decision.)
Jerry was true to his word. Even when I digressed for 20 years in practicing Zen Buddhism, he was respectful and distantly interested in my pursuits. When I left Zen and returned to Judaism, with more dedication than in the past, he still honored my decisions. I made an effort to practice my faith in a way that created the least amount of disruption to our marriage.
In spite of our deep compatibility and love after nearly 50 years, though, there is something we’ve never shared. Although we share very similar beliefs, values, and even some practices, we are not spiritual partners. My husband has never shown an interest in becoming Jewish, and it is too important a choice for me to put any pressure on him. I appreciated that he respected faith religions, that he never criticized my choices, and I never sensed any judgment from him.
Nevertheless, I have occasionally wondered all these years, what would it be like to have a husband who shared my faith? Who valued the belief system? Who liked to engage in the practices? Even if he had decided to convert, I don’t think he would have been accepted into the faith, since Judaism requires a person to be deeply sincere to convert. And Jerry’s heart would not have been in it. I’ve never quite understood the people who decide to convert to a religion when their hearts are not in it. Is that sort of like marrying someone you don’t know and hoping you grow to love him or her?
So I would be grateful to learn how faith manifests in your marriages or your committed relationships. Do you both share the same religious faith? Or no faith at all? Did one or both of you convert?
Do you think the decision to practice or not to practice a faith has had an impact on your lives or in how you raised your children? Do you compromise on which practices or rites you observe to accommodate each other?
I’m very grateful to be married to a man who has tolerated my faith pursuits all these years, and who is, in every other way, my love and my partner for life.
Published in Marriage
I would note that there are always differences between husband and wife – our differences are really meant to be a feature of relationship, not a bug. Bridging those gaps is an ongoing challenge in any real marriage.
Mrs. iWe and I share Torah Judaism, but we take very different interests in it. She is deeply involved in specifics, the “how we do” of Jewish Law. I have no beef with any of it, but my interests are about the “why”. So we do not, for example, study Judaism together, as it is an unnecessary source of frustration.
Philosophically, there is also a deep divide between those who think that everything is G-d’s plan, and those who believe that our free will can influence any such plan. I don’t accept that these are somehow compatible beliefs.
Very thoughtful observations! And they make sense as well. You and Mrs. iWe are spiritual partners and share many practices and beliefs, but you still observe differently. That’s wonderful.
My husband is a cradle Catholic but was not practicing when we began dating. I was raised Christian Scientist so no sacraments (including baptism) though I considered myself a Christian. I certainly knew most of the Bible (as did my husband) though a rather shallow understanding. I was not serious about my faith or going to any Sunday service. Before we married, my husband not only went to Mass but began going regularly to Penance and Communion. After marriage, we both decided it was important to go to church on Sunday. After about 8 years, I converted. We have both continued to grow in our faith – studying the Bible, other religious reading, going to Mass more than once a week and more prayer time. I can say that it is a real joy for both of us to grow in our faith together. I’m sure we’ve been more serious about our faith journeys as we are in it together. (By the way, I dislike the term ‘faith journey’ but haven’t figured out another way to talk about this.) As with children and other family, I think it is an advantage to all be of the same faith and of the same seriousness but, in the end, it is you and G-d. I think it must be more difficult to not be of the same faith but in this day and age, it may be more important that you are both serious about your faith. That seems to be the dividing line in the culture today. I think it would be very hard to marry someone who had no faith and especially was antagonistic to faith.
I would say “developing my relationship with G-d.” Faith is only one component of a relationship, after all.
Good for you two. That sounds like a wonderful evolution.
Who would do such a thing?
For George Costanza, some people claim that there’s a woman to blame. A Latvian Orthodox woman.
My wife and I didn’t let faith interfere with our courtship. Our family upbringings differed, Jewish and Catholic, but by the age we met in the mid-1980’s we were long acclimated to the secular life. Love got priority.
Single through my 18-34 demo, I’d remained hopeful for a perfect match, and quick to spot misses. Low talkers, man hands, and virgins were rare, but there were hundreds of other tests and failings on both sides.
Religious background might come up along with address, occupation, plans, movies, music, etc. Politics was a deal breaker just once. Smart singles put their deal breakers and requirements out there to save everyone time.
Park Slope, is that somewhere out on the D line?
Nassau County, huh? “Don’t worry, I’m not a JAP.”
Not even wine, Jim? Are you AA or just boring?
Who keeps a condom in his bathing suit? “An optimist.”
A majority I dated were Jewish. “Smart is sexy” wasn’t as big an idea among gym goers and singles bar boozers. The devout and looking for similar would let you know. Most everyone I met in Manhattan or the summer beach towns was secular or headed there. Maritally-inclined Italian girls instinctively looked away, kind of like the guys whose gaydar quickly excluded me in the West Village.
I feel a little sorry for young singles today who have to screen for political compatibility, too. Narrows the field by 50%. But if the religion doesn’t match up with the party of choice, I suppose it could be an interesting conversation.
No particularly good ‘short hand’ for this relationship but maybe that’s a good thing?
Beats going the opposite direction that’s for sure. I can’t imagine being a person without any type of faith and going through cancer diagnoses, death and illness of loved ones, etc.
A young lady whom I know recently broke up with her boyfriend of 3+ years. She says she loves him and he loves her, but she doesn’t see them being a long-term match. One of the biggest points of incompatibility is that she is a committed Christian, seeking always to grow closer to God, and he’s at best a cultural Christian (although I suspect he’s more agnostic than Christian).
There are other issues involved, but the main thing is that she wants a husband who’ll be a spiritual leader in the home and she doesn’t believe he’ll ever be that, so she broke it off so as to make room for such a man to come into her life. It hasn’t been easy for her or, especially, him, but she prayed long about it and believes it’s for the best.
She shows courage and commitment through her decision. Good on her.
For me, being of different faiths probably is not as big a deal as being of different attitudes about faith, morality and everyday behavior patterns inside a serious relationship like marriage.
My dad was an agnostic, my mom a “Sundays and holidays Catholic.”
Part of what held them together so deeply was the fact that my dad was emotionally available. This attitude was something not that prevalent in the 1940’s and 50’s among men. He expressed his angst over coworker conflicts. She listened and offered empathy and if possible solutions.
But he did the same for her.
He also structured his work life so that by the time I was four, he was home at 3:30 Pm to take me to the park or down the street for an ice cream cone while mom napped.
As a child, I thought all households were like this!
It was only once out in the dating world that I learned that is not the case. I discovered that a guy was respectful the first two or three times we went out together. Then on date four or five, apparently because now “you’ re my woman,” everything shifted.
By date four the guy did the talking. He expressed his feelings about his feelings.
If I had a problem that upset me, every single time it was mentioned, he would do the verbal equivalent of yawning. And then letting me know “Well you don’t like that job anyway and once we are married, you won’t need that income, so why worry about it?” Completely ignoring the fact in total that I had outdone 498 job applicants for the job interview I aced and that although my salary for the first year was paltry, in 18 months, I’d be clearing big money.
I soon learned to screen those applying for the position of dating me. It became important as to whether or not they grew up with any sisters and if they had a good relationship with their moms.
I realize that had my dating situation been different, like if I had gotten a crush on an Orthodox Jewish man, and he needed me to convert, then religion would have been much more of a factor. But I was not a steady church goer and neither were most of the men that I considered date-able.
I was raised Catholic, but unfortunately I grew up at a time when the catechesis was watered down to bland platitudes. I considered myself an atheist by the time I was in my mid-teens (though I never told my parents, as I didn’t wish to hurt them). I found atheism to be improbable, however, and when I came back to faith I went to various Protestant churches of different stripes. That too proved improbable, and so I went back to considering myself a Catholic, though I was not observant. That’s when I met my husband Dave. He, like me, had been raised Catholic, had drifted away into atheism for a while, and was now a non-practicing Catholic. We were married in the Catholic church and became “C & E” Catholics, going to Mass at Christmas and Easter. That all changed when I went through some difficult times and realized that I needed faith – going along with little thought, mostly ignoring the big questions of life, just wasn’t working anymore. So I started reading, listening to Catholic radio, and asking questions of friends of mine who were devout Catholics. I discovered a banquet. It made me rather angry, really, when I realized how rich the teaching of the Church was, and yet how little of it – a thin gruel – I was given when growing up. So – I’m reading voraciously and starting to go to Mass. I’m diving into the Early Church Fathers and apologetics. And Dave? He was watching me, wondering what was going on. But I was a happier, better person, and so he decided to follow me in. I am so, so grateful for that. To be able to share one’s faith with one’s spouse is a great joy. We found a solid, orthodox parish and dove into parish life. The friends we made there are still my closest friends. I have friends whose spouses do not share their faith, and I do feel sorry for them because they won’t know that level of togetherness.
What a beautiful story, Jean. It must have been so special for you two to share that level of faith together. In some ways, I, too, feel sad that my parents didn’t practice Judaism seriously, but they weren’t raised that way either. I’m glad you found your way back.
That is inspiring, Jean.
Lately I have begun to take to heart an early Catholic grammar school nun teaching of “Surrendering one’s biggest burdens to the Lord.” (Not that other Christian faiths don’t advise the same thing.)
This has brought about a return to serenity, and although I am still reluctant to attend any local Catholic church, perhaps that will be next.
Good for her. Statistics show that if the father is not the spiritual leader of the home the kids will generally leave the faith.
I think a distinctively Catholic phrase that I find useful is, “Offer it up.” I heard that growing up, of course (maybe you did too), but the significance of it didn’t strike me until after I had delved deep into its meaning. It makes “surrendering” easier because it has redemptive value.
I’ve made two, great, impactful decisions in my life: marrying my wife at the age of 27 and coming into full communion with the Catholic Church in 2004. For 19 years she prayed for my conversion.
I was a believing Christian when we got married but basically a pagan by my lifestyle and attention to my faith. Upon the arrival of our first child I started attending mass with my wife. I attended faithfully, although reluctantly. But by the time of our fourth child’s First Holy Communion I was seeking something – I felt it at mass. I remember taking my son (#4) to his final class prior to his FHC and read this on a sign staring at me from across the waiting room:
John 6:53
So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you;
And about 9 months later I could claim myself as a Catholic.
Praise God for my wife. Having a sacramental Catholic marriage, raising 4 children and celebrating grandchild #7, attending mass together, praying a Rosary daily together – these things are the highlight of my life. I wouldn’t have these without our shared faith.
Thanks for asking the question Susan.
God bless you and your husband.
Oh, it was my pleasure and blessing to see how people are responding. Thanks for sharing your story, Scott. It’s a lovely one.
When my Jewish father and my Catholic mother were married in Ireland in the early 1960s, it caused quite a stir on both sides. In order to get permission to marry in a Catholic Church, they had to promise to raise their children as Catholics. This was a practical arrangement, to the extent that there was no Jewish community or Synagogue anywhere near us.
My parents still had great difficulty finding a priest to perform the service, but a kindly older man from a very rural parish agreed to do so. However, the service took place in the Sacristy, rather than on the altar.
My parents ensured that all of their children, particularly me, as eldest, were made fully aware and appreciative of our Jewish heritage and my father observed the tenets of his faith as far as practicable. We were raised on Eastern European kosher food- I will be having chopped herring on matzo for my lunch today! I was a voracious reader and I recall my parents buying Jewish books regularly – those by Chaim Potok made a particular impression.
The religious differences, to my mind, were more about the rituals than the outlook on life and God. I see Judaism and Christianity as having more on common than they have major points of difference.
When my Jewish father and my Catholic mother were married in Ireland in the early 1960s, it caused quite a stir on both sides. In order to get permission to marry in a Catholic Church, they had to promise to raise their children as Catholics. This was a practical arrangement, to the extent that there was no Jewish community or Synagogue anywhere near us.
My parents still had great difficulty finding a priest to perform the service, but a kindly older man from a very rural parish agreed to do so. However, the service took place in the Sacristy, rather than on the altar.
My parents ensured that all of their children, particularly me, as eldest, were made fully aware and appreciative of our Jewish heritage and my father observed the tenets of his faith as far as practicable. We were raised on Eastern European kosher food- I will be having chopped herring on matzo for my lunch today! I was a voracious reader and I recall my parents buying Jewish books regularly – those by Chaim Potok made a particular impression.
The religious differences, to my mind, were more about the rituals than the outlook on life and God. I see Judaism and Christianity as having more on common than they have major points of difference.
Thanks for sharing your story, Charles. An intriguing journey. Your parents sound very supportive
I have a lot of similarities with Painter Jean, not exactly (e.g. never really considered myself atheist) but very similar.
My wife (Kasia) and I haven’t been exactly at the same place with our faith but I personally cannot imagine not being on the same page for the most part. To me, there’s nothing or more intimate or beautiful than our daily discussions and other activities related to our faith. Like with iWe and his wife, we have some different interest and priorities, and those differences add a lot to our discussions, etc. but really I cannot imagine going through life not being able to share my top priority with my wife. One example, we tend to go into work together, about a 40-minute drive. Last year, our daily routine was to listen to Catechism in a Year, which is about 20 minutes, and then it would just lead to such a great conversation. We really loved that! We have nice rides into work now with nice conversations but those were really special. I don’t know, I have plenty of friends with different religious (and political) beliefs and we can have some nice conversations but being married to someone with such core value differences just isn’t for me.
How lovely, Chris. You two are blessed.
We were both Presbyterian and had a church wedding so religious differences have never been on issue. I can’t imagine a happy relationship where each side doesn’t accept the partner’s beliefs. I am blessed and know it to have a spouse who shares my political and religious beliefs.