To Be or Not To Be (Jewish)

     Not only was I the sole grownup in my sign language class, (see last week's post) but it turned out that I was also the only Jew.
     I hadn't been in that position since Mr. Stevens' 7th grade social studies class when we were studying the Holocaust.  It's painful to be the spokesperson for your people when you are in the seventh grade.  And the Holocaust!  Oy!  This was not a subject that increased a girl's popularity.
     This time around I was a 50-year-old woman in a classroom of adolescents, and I didn't have any immediate plans to reveal who I may or may not worship. There was no reason to point out that I was different--or rather, more different.
     But during my coursework learning to be a sign language interpreter, each semester I was required to attend a number of "deaf events," where I was often the only hearing person.  The purpose of these events were to help me understand the isolation that a deaf person feels at a "hearing" event, and to learn some of the cultural norms of the deaf community.
     The first deaf event was at the Bethel Baptist Church which had a deaf ministry holding services every Sunday morning.  Trying to act like I did this all the time, I arrived at 9:45 for Bible study with the Pastor's wife.  Worship services followed.
     The Baptists were incredibly warm and welcoming to me, and at least they didn't make me feel old.  I was asked to come up and introduce myself.  I was fairly self conscious about being hearing and being Jewish so while signing, I spontaneously changed my name from Solomon to Sullivan.
     The service began with a testimony from a woman whose mother had recently passed away, and it appeared that she was signing how happy she was about it.  Clearly, I was not understanding her.  I later learned that she was happy because her mother had accepted Christ as her Savior before her death, but since I did not know the signs for Christ or Savior, I had missed that part.
     I wasn't sure if I was in the dark because I was a beginner at sign language, or if I was in the dark because I was Jewish.  There were a few uncomfortable moments when I was pretty sure that I was going straight to hell.  If I was a better signer, I might have asked for clarification, but with my limited vocabulary I couldn't have made much of a case for myself.
     My secret remained safe until the following week when I learned that my teacher had scheduled our midterm exam on the first night of Passover when I was expecting twenty people at my home for a seder.
     I raised my hand.
     "I am Jew," I confessed, signing the letters J-E-W since I did not know the sign.
     The teacher showed me the sign.  You pull on your long beard.  I swear.
     Then I pointed to the calendar which showed the Passover holiday.  I tried to explain that because of the holiday on Tuesday I would not be in class on Monday night. Jewish holidays begin at sundown the night before--this is difficult enough to explain in English, let alone sign language.
     But the teacher drew his own conclusion.  "You are very religious?" he signed.
     I only hesitated a second.
     "YES!"  I signed enthusiastically.  "Very religious Jew!"
      I stroked my long beard for emphasis and got my midterm delayed until the following week.
     It was hard to imagine being less cool than I had been in seventh grade, but there I was.