Dear Harold, It’s Sunday morning. Growing up, Sunday morning meant going to church with my parents. When we met, Sunday morning meant getting through the music for three services at a megachurch.Even not so long ago, Sunday morning meant conducting the church choir and playing organ in Walpole.This is not one of those Sunday mornings. I’m nervous as we get into the car together, distracting myself by asking if you took along the new transformer action figure for Micah and the doll for Ilana. I know they’ll like them.Sometimes bribery can be more effective with children than the most wellreasoned explanations.As we pull into the mikve (ritual bath) parking lot, panic overtakes me.Not for what’s about to happen, but because we might be spotted. Everyone drives by here. They’ll see our car.They’ll wonder why, since women make their monthly trip to the mikve at night, our car is sitting here on a Sunday morning.Deep breath. I can’t worry about any of that now.As you take Micah and Ilana to another room, Tova flashes me her warm smile and embraces me. I realize how much Tova has been an anchor for me. Ever since I began studying with Rabbi Hyman, I always knew I could call Tova about anything, ask her questions about anything, confide in her about anything. As important as Rabbi Hyman has been, I now see how much responsibility for the community sits on the shoulders of the rabbi’s wife.Tova and I are together as I pace the floor, awaiting the grilling by the Beit Din (Jewish religious court). Finally, the door opens a crack and they ask me to come in.I quickly realize my nervousness was unnecessary. This Beit Din is every bit as thorough as the Beit Din I encountered in Boston, but the similarities end there. So many questions, so much discussion – but all with a sense of warmth and compassion.I honestly cannot remember much of what transpired. My hour with them remains a jumbled blur in my mind. All that stands out now is Rabbi Weisfogel’s smile and one question he asked me about my singing as an Orthodox Jew, given some of the issues.Rabbi Weisfogel was born in Ireland, and before World War II studied in the famed Mir Yeshiva in Poland, probably the greatest yeshiva in the world at that time. He escaped Poland just ahead of the Nazis and sought refuge in Shanghai for much of the war.The rabbis ask me to step out of the room for the longest ten minutes of my life. When they invite me back, I hear their hearty “Mazal tov” through a fog, followed by their request that I get ready for the mikve down the hall.All this preparation – it’s taken years.And now it comes down to this. I descend each step of the mikve, feeling the water touch my feet and begin to envelop me as I continue down. My eyes take in the white and blue tiles on every side, and I feel the warmth and comfort of this moment surround me.My feet settle on the floor beyond the last step, three-quarters of me cocooned in the water. I prepare to immerse, conscious that all of me, down to the very last hair, must be covered by the water.There is only the water – for a brief moment, it is as if nothing else exists.Then I come up, my face hitting the air, jarring me back into the world. I begin to say the blessing for immersion, and when I start to fumble, Tova helps me through it. Then, down into the water two more times. Tova’s job is to make sure I immerse fully. She smiles and yells to the rabbis in the next room, “It’s good!” And then I say the Shehechiyanu blessing: Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who has given us life, has sustained us, and has brought us to this time.I woke up this morning simply as Gayle Berman. I’ve now ascended from the waters of the mikve reborn as Avigail Shira bat Avraham. Avigail connects to Gayle. I chose Shira as my second name because it means “song.” And “bat Avraham” – daughter of Abraham, the appellation given to all converts because we trace our spiritual lineage directly back to Abraham, the first Jew.But I don’t think I feel different. I realize now that I already felt Jewish on the inside. The mikve was a confirmation of what I’ve already become.Love, Gayle Gayle Berman is an internationally acclaimed singer and has performed in leading roles with companies such as the Rome Festival Opera, San Antonio Opera, Boston Academy of Music, and with members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.She has also served on the voice faculties of several colleges and universities.Her husband, Harold, is the former executive director of the Jewish Federation of Western Massachusetts. They are now raising their family in Israel, and are the co-founders of J-Journey.org, a support system for intermarried families that want to explore the possibility of becoming observant Jews.
