When I accepted the position of rabbi at Temple Israel in Dover, New Hampshire in 1994, I never expected to find a Jewish partner. The odds of finding the right gay, Jewish man in a big city is one thing. But Dover is a very small town. What I hoped for, however, was what I got. My partner Andrew is caring, spiritual, bright, handsome, outgoing, and, although raised a Christian, not predisposed to any one religious choice. Several people–some within the Jewish community, had suggested that I meet him.

Two years later, we were living together, listed in the temple directory together, attending temple services together, praying in English and Hebrew at meals together, celebrating Jewish holidays together, attending Jewish lifecycle ceremonies together, and chaperoning synagogue teen trips and NFTY (National Federation of Temple Youth) camp trips together.

We also visited Andrew’s family at Christmas and Easter and celebrate secular holidays with whomever and wherever we may be, together. Who we are, as individuals and as a couple, continues to be enhanced by our shared involvement in each other’s religious and family life.

I have often been asked to explain my feelings about being a rabbi in an interfaith relationship. Words can hardly describe the experience. Here are a few glimpses into our lives as an interfaith family.

• We talk about what matters to us, before, during and after it surfaces.
This style of talking things through includes religious observances. We make an effort to respect both families’ religious observances, although we observe only one religion within our home, and to also include friends in our plans.

We plan Jewish religious observances early enough to invite family and friends. We always plan to see Andrew’s parents around Christmas and Easter, usually not on the given day, as my schedule precludes that possibility. It’s togetherness as a family that is his parents’ highest priority, and they are willing to forgo dates in exchange for total family connection. They are a huge blessing in my life.

As an example of our celebrating with friends, we host a Tu Bishvat seder in our home. Tu Bishvat falls mid-winter and is loosely translated as the Jewish Arbor Day. We celebrate by inviting several other couples, Jewish and mixed- faith households like ours, asking them to bring dishes that contain at least one exotic fruit or vegetable. Last year we began the meal with a discussion about the nature of relationships, represented by the various types of fruits. For example, someone commented that fruits with hard skins and edible centers represent relationships that are hard to enter, when the reward comes only with determination.

And, as an example of discussing things before they arise, Andrew and I have also begun discussing our personal preferences in death ritual in order to leave no stone unturned (so to speak).

Our home and our bodies can be seen to reflect our religious choices. We choose our wall art and the religious articles with which we adorn ourselves with the spirit of Judaism clearly in mind. We gift each other with religious ritual items like candlesticks, kippot  (head coverings), mezuzot (doorpost prayer), chanukkiot (Hanukkah menorahs), and tallitot (prayer shawls).

Our bookshelves are filled with titles that relate to our understanding that all of life has spiritual content and that Judaism speaks to that truth. It is clear that we have chosen to embrace one religion for our household, and this is one of the pieces for which I am most grateful to Andrew.

Our celebrations can be smelled down the block from our home. The flowers and vegetables we grow and the scent of holiday spices is welcoming to our guests.

Our family histories are tasted in our meals. We prepare holiday favorites and new twists on old themes to excite the spirit through the palate. Andrew’s parents have been particularly adventuresome in eating Jewish foods that have no counterpart in their culture. In exchange for their willingness to experiment, I also prepare foods that represent their history, which adds to my life.

Our devotion to humanity and to the planet is always felt. We lovingly hold hands around the table as we bless The Source of Life and all which we hold dear, before we eat. We include blessings for food and the nature of the day. We recognize the blessing of family and friends and people we may have just met. While eating we often have tasty conversations wherein no subject is taboo. Like reading Torah each week, whatever is presented is worth discussing. It all has value and adds to our lives. As we clean up after meals we bless each other and the earth by composting scraps and sending leftovers, if there are any, home with guests or to Andrew’s co-workers.

All in all, our choice to be together has enriched our families, our community and ourselves.