Sign In Forgot Password

Andy Stefano's Jewish Journey — Yom Kippur 5785

Andrew Stefano

In order to understand my journey towards Judaism and CDT, you need to understand my parents and grandparents and their journeys as well. 

My mother's family were Scottish and English immigrants to the new world in the late 17th century. One of my ancestors is buried in the Granary burying ground on the Freedom Trail in Boston. Another founded an Episcopalian church in Flint Michigan in the 1880's. My father's grandparents were Roman-Catholic immigrants from Italy in the 1910's.

But my father's father left the church as a teenager. And my mother's parents became devout atheists. Leaving both of my parents with no religious upbringing at all.

Consequently, when I was a small child in a small college town in eastern Kansas, we celebrated Christmas with letters to Santa, a decorated tree, and a visit to my Aunt's house in Texas where my father would play the piano and we'd all sing a traditional line-up of Christmas carols. At Easter, we heard that the Easter bunny had hidden Hershey's kisses around the living room. But neither of these holidays had any religious undertones at all — we never set foot in a church, no one taught me about Jesus. Any lessons I might have gleaned from those Christmas carols were intentionally not reinforced when we got home. They were nice stories to be sure, but nothing to do with me. I've come to think of this upbringing as "American Agnostic."

I was 10 years old before I'd ever heard of Jews. 

It was my mother who started our family's Jewish journey. I don't know all the details, to be honest, but I recall being told that she felt that religion was something missing from her life. We were living in another small college town in Central Illinois in the early 1990s when my mother took us to synagogue for the first time. I don't remember much about it. I remember dressing up. I remember sitting at the back. I remember that the transliterations in the prayer book, for those who needed them, were at the back of the book, on page 13-hundred and 33 [1,333]. I remember not feeling very welcome.

We moved shortly afterwards to Columbus Ohio where my mother quickly joined a reform congregation. We started lighting candles on Friday night and attending services. We bought Debbie Friedman CDs. We followed the instructions in the Haggadah to hold our first Seder. 

Being both new in town, and being in a public school with only a small handful of Jews, it was easy to start identifying as Jewish without question. I probably knew three things about Judaism, but it was infinitely more than my almost-all-white, almost-all-Christian schoolmates.

But while I quickly accepted the label, my actual journey was much slower than the rest of my family. My brother enrolled in the religious school. I refused. We celebrated Hanukkah but not Christmas. I demanded at least a Hanukkah bush. My family members all had formal conversions with the Reform rabbi. I… went to Brandeis University.

I struggled with my Jewish identity at Brandeis. For the first time I was meeting conservative, orthodox, and modern orthodox Jews. Learning (the hard way) about kashrut rules in the dining hall. Learning (the hard way) about holidays I didn't know existed. I spent an awful lot of time wondering if I was "Jewish enough." There didn't seem to be a place for my version of Jewishness at Brandeis. I didn't have enough education in Jewish practice to feel comfortable practicing with anyone who was practicing at Brandeis. And even though there were plenty of non-practicing Jews at Brandeis, too, they were cultural Jews. They made jokes about bagels and lox, how their grandmothers made matzo balls, the right way to make kugel. I didn't even know bagels were Jewish food. I thought they were just food.

But I met Lauren. Lauren was one of only a small handful of Jews at Brandeis who grew up Reconstructionist. Obviously I'd never heard of it. But Lauren invited me along on her own Jewish journey. With no Reconstructionist service on campus, I joined her at CDT's High Holydays services on the advice of Ora Gladstone from the Hillel office. I traveled to San Diego to meet Lauren's family, where her grandmother immediately insisted that I call her "Grandma", so I had a Jewish grandmother for the first time. 

Grandma was happy to love me for who I was and give me the Jewish cultural experience I'd missed out on. She took me to the local Jewish deli. She showed me where she kept the traif dishes for any leftovers you might bring home from a non-kosher restaurant. She refused to let Uncle Chuck put cream in his coffee after we'd had chicken for dinner. It's been 23 years, though, and she's still surprised that I don't eat lox.

After graduation, Lauren and I planned a Jewish wedding and settled into our first jobs in Boston. We didn't practice much those first few years, though we tried: we did some shul shopping around the Boston area, but it was difficult as 20-somethings to find people to connect with and services that were fulfilling. Through it all, we kept coming back to CDT for the High Holydays every year. Rabbi Toba's talks were academic and inspiring, and the Jewish Journey talks I heard back then were a testament to the kind of community this is and the acceptance of even non-traditional backgrounds like mine.

Our first kid was born in 2009 and a few years later we were looking for a kid-level Shabbat program. Already familiar with CDT, we discovered Tot Shabbat. I approached that first Saturday not really knowing what to expect. Alison Lobron led the program; she asked us to introduce ourselves and our connection to CDT — Were we newcomers? Members? Did we have family or friends in the congregation? We hesitated. (Does "we've been crashing your High Holydays for 10 years in a row" count as a connection?) Josh Herzig-Marx jumped in. "Friends", he insisted. "They're friends." We had met for the first time in the parking lot on the way in.

That was it, we had found our Jewish home. We never missed a Tot Shabbat. We became members. We enrolled Eris in the religious school. Jai hung out with Joanna in the childcare program while desperately wishing they could go to class every week, too. I joined and then chaired the Children's Education Committee and tried to be every bit as welcoming to any newcomers as Josh had been to me.

So for several years, my own Jewish identity was wrapped up in my kids' experiences. I was a religious school parent — and that was about it. But my kids grew, as kids are wont to do, and their needs changed. As they became more independent, I had time to explore more of what I wanted out of my Jewishness and my relationship with CDT. We took Parenting Through a Jewish Lens. I took a Hebrew for Beginners class with Micha. I did a weekly Torah study with our rabbinic intern, Emmanuel. I joined the softball team. I joined the choir. Somehow I'm the guy who takes down the sukkah every year? And this spring I was honored to be elected to the board as a member at large.

So I'm incredibly grateful to this community for welcoming me; for providing so many opportunities to be Jewish; and for being such an important part of my Jewish journey.

I wish everyone an easy fast and a good year. Thank you.

Wed, March 19 2025 19 Adar 5785