The Jewish ritual most Jews never see

In our family, most mornings tend to look the same: Erica gets our daughters dressed and fed, I take them to school, and everyone goes about the rest of their day. But on some days, like this morning, I have the privilege of adding another agenda item after morning drop off. Invariably, a text message will come in: “We have three conversion candidates this morning at 8:45am - see you at the mikveh!”

And so I set off for one of the most meaningful and favorite rabbinic tasks: helping to shepherd people—young and old, men, women, and children—through the last stage of their conversion process.

Over the past few years, I have had the honor of hearing their incredible stories, affirming their journeys, bearing witness to their first moments of being Jewish, and joyfully welcoming them as they take their place among the Jewish people. All this has been made possible through the work of Project Ruth, which provides accessible Orthodox conversions right here on Manhattan’s Upper West Side to people from all over the city, country, and the world (yes - we have people fly in from abroad just to take a dip in the mikveh!).

I remember many of them. The young couples, eager to start their soon-to-be married lives together from a foundation of shared religious conviction.

The queer and halachically committed, who previously may have thought that a Jewish, observant life lived as their full, authentic selves was beyond their reach.

The babies - so many babies! - whose parents lovingly and gently bring them into the covenant of their people.

The businessman flying in from China right before Yom Kippur, and catching a flight back right afterwards.

The German academic and scholar who learned so much about Jews that she made the bold leap to become one.

The adult daughter, herself a convert, who escorted her elderly, terminally ill mother to the mikveh because the mother, inspired by her daughter’s prior actions, now also wanted to join the Jewish people while she still had the strength to do so.

Their stories stay with me. How could they not? Quoting Rabbi Abbahu, the Gemara in Masechet Berachot (34b) states, “In a place where the baalei teshuva (Jewish returners to observance) stand, even the tzaddikim g'murim (the fully righteous) cannot stand.” How much more so a convert.

Immersion in a mikveh, a pool of water which effects spiritual transformation and serves as the culminating stage of the conversion process, is one of the most deeply powerful, sincere, and intimate of Jewish rituals. And it is also a ritual that, unless one were a convert themselves, a family member of a convert, or a mikveh attendant, most Jews never get to see.

That’s a shame, really, because nothing fills me with more pride in being Jewish, more hope for the Jewish future, and more conviction that our Torah is a living, breathing Torat chayyim (a “Torah of life”) than presiding on the beit din (rabbinic court) of a convert at the mikveh.

What a different Jewish world it would be if every Jew had the opportunity to witness such a moment, such a modern-day illustration of accepting the Torah at Sinai. Perhaps it would tug at our own Jewish identity, our own sense of responsibility both to the Torah and to each other. Perhaps then we would finally learn the lesson, taught to us with increasing intensity by thousands of years of our history, that more than a “Chosen People”, we Jews are a “Choosing People”.

Whether or not we were born a Jew, each day provides us an opportunity to make an affirmative choice to be Jewish. To remain committed. That is the gift and the reminder that these converts have given to me.