I received a free copy of this book from Beacon Press through the Goodreads "First Reads" giveaway program.
Many people were raised by parents of different faiths, or have married someone of a different faith and are raising their own children with multiple traditions, yet the topic of interfaith identity isn’t a large part of public discourse. Susan Katz Miller performs a good service in highlighting it, clearly framing the issue in what will be a new manner to many readers. She isn’t discussing the pros and cons of interfaith marriages, nor how to negotiate conflicts in these marriages. Still less is her book concerned with debate-style "interfaith dialogue" that uses a “whole big model” -- here Miller is quoting Rev. Heather Kirk-Davidoff’s critique -- in which “you find your place to stand, you stand firmly in your location, claiming it, and then out of that location, you enter into dialogue.”
Instead, Miller writes about people who grow up in families that convey more than one tradition and who embrace both traditions as part of their identity. She dislikes preceding terms of religious identity with “half-“, such as “half-Jew,” because “I resist the implication that I am somehow fractured, and the use of fractions makes me feel diminished. But I also resent being defined only in terms of my Jewishness, leaving my Christian half as somehow unmentionable.” She would rather say that she is both Jewish and Christian, and she wants others to feel empowered to say so, too, if indeed that’s their identity.
Miller especially focuses on those who deliberately foster interfaith identities in their children. “I like to use the metaphor that we are giving our children two roots, not leaving them rootless,” she writes. While “religious literacy” can be taught through secular educational programs, she is more interested in asking and recognizing what happens when parents share a belief in God and want to help their child feel comfortable sincerely practicing more than one religion in attempts to express their understanding of that God. Her personal experience comes from her participation as a parent in an interfaith religious education program for children, and this is a major focus of the book. Her observations are bolstered by a number of interviews with others who share similar experiences.
If there are limitations here, it is simply that the scope could have been greatly increased, and readers may come away with many more questions. Miller focuses on Jewish-Christian interfaith identity throughout the book, and she mentions other religions only briefly in the last chapter. Secular identities are touched upon throughout, including the interaction of secular and religious parenting, but that would have been a separate topic, too.
An important omission regards the plain fact that theological propositions can contradict each other. It’s one thing to enjoy your bagel and your Christmas stocking, but what about the theological arguments over which people kill each other, where you just can’t have it both ways? It’s not always as easy as saying there’s different melodies for Adon Olam and then elaborating on that to enjoy songs from altogether different religions. There could be an issue regarding whether Jewish-and-Christian-identified people can feel comfortable eating ham on Christmas while praying for the Messiah to come for the first time. Some people are easy-going enough and sufficiently in touch with their own polyvalent roots to shrug that it “just works” for them -- perhaps, for example, by interpreting religion primarily as a social experience, where the important part is for people to be good to each other and honor each other’s paths -- but others will try to parse the philosophical meaning and aim for logical consistency. That’s driven by a difference in personality type and attitude. Some of the people who just don’t “get” interfaith identity are indeed judgmental and ignorant and need to have their eyes opened, and for them, Being Both will be instructive. On the other hand, some of that judgmentalism may spring from a reasonable impulse to distinguish once and for all whether Mary is the mother of God, a forbidden idol, or yet another instance of a worldview that is thoroughly mistaken simply because it is theistic. Miller acknowledges that people raised with interfaith heritage should have the freedom to choose their own path, whether that’s multiple religions, one, or none. That’s an important statement, and yet it doesn’t get at the heart of why some people might feel driven to “pick one” and why their method of making religious judgments might come across as negative or exclusionary to those who prefer to continue practicing multiple traditions. So, for example, she writes, “When [children] begin to understand how the two religions diverge theologically, we continue to emphasize that they may or may not ever choose one path or the other.” Yes, the permission is freeing, but it doesn’t adequately respond to the observation of theological divergence. If two roads diverge in a wood, how do you walk down both? One of her interviewees said, regarding interfaith coming-of-age ceremonies, “You get over the initial idea of conflicting ideologies, or what people consider to be conflicting ideologies, clashing. You get past that to the truth at the heart of everything…” This sounds like a mystical approach, exploding the boundaries of logic and searching for a wordless wisdom that is more valuable than book learning. But not everyone - whether secular, mono-faith, interfaith - is a mystic. Forget ideology, touch the heart of truth is instruction for meditation, but it doesn’t tell you whether to eat the ham. Maybe it means don’t worry so much about the ham. But it's hard to tell.
That headscratcher can, however, be provisionally left aside without too much difficulty, because the problem is not unique to interfaith people: It’s also faced by anyone who wants to reform the quality or intensity of the mainstream religious doctrine presented to them. For example, a Jew who wants to be “more religiously observant” or “more secular” also must weigh competing interpretations of Judaism when deciding whether to eat the ham, and it isn't clear how they make decisions, either. Adding Christianity to the mix is just a different sort of puzzle.
Overall, this book gives a voice to a segment of the population that often faces dismissive or misunderstanding comments about their complex backgrounds, identities, and practices. It validates positive “both-and” language rather than “either-or” language. The more people are encouraged to speak their own truths, the more likely they are to find a path that feels right to them, and the more likely they are to give their children a legacy of religious literacy.