Wedded Bliss

This is the story of two totally different people. One a man, the other, a woman.

The man’s name is Mica Cohen. He is the son of an orthodox Rabbi. His grandfather was also an orthodox Rabbi. Mica is not, though. He was raised in an orthodox house and is a very religious person in the Jewish religion. He follows all customs and traditions.

The woman’s name is Trista Day. She was born into a devoted Catholic household. She attended Mass every Sunday and often receives communion besides going to confession at least once a month.

One day Mica and Trista met by accident and fell in love with each other. And though the miracle of America and the power of secularism they got married. Both sets of parents were against it, but they got married, just the same.

Fast forward one year and two weeks. Trista is eight months pregnant and excited about having her first child. Mica equally excited about the upcoming birth of their child.

They also know the gender of the child. It’s a boy, and they couldn’t be happier.

We ease drop on them as they are sitting in their living room and discussing what they plan to do for their newborn son.

Watch and learn.

Mica starts off with “I can’t wait to be a father. It’s, it’s just too much. Another month or two and I’ll be able to hold that little bundle of joy in my arms.”

Trista chimes in also “My first child. Who could want anything more than being a mother?”

Mica interrupts Trista with a suggestion.

“I’ve been thinking about a name for our son. We don’t have to decide now but what do think about David or Josh or maybe Avi. I like Avi the best to be honest. Short for Abraham. What do you think, my dear?”

He throws it to her to say something.

She doesn’t know what to say, so she shrugs her shoulders.

“Maybe, I thought Pete or Paul or John, maybe.” She says to nobody.

“That sounds too new bible to me.” Mica says.

“Well your names sound like old bible to me. I’ve known Jewish people with the names I’ve said. Why not one of those names, Hun.” Trista says.

“I’ve also known Christian with my names, also. Why not use one of those names?” Mica answered back.

“We have time to decide. That’s not our biggest issue even. We have to find a Mohel for the Bris of our son. I know of a few, but we have to plan ahead to make sure at least one of them is available.” Mica said.

“What’s a Bris, exactly?” Trista inquires.

“It’s a circumcision of the male genitals. Foreskin removal. Need I go on?”

Trista shudders at hearing that.

“It sounds disgusting to me. How can they allow that? Doesn’t it hurt the baby?” She want to know.

“It’s done on the eighth day. The baby is too young to know or feel any pain. It’s something that is done on all Jewish male infants. It makes him a Jewish person.” Mica explains.

“I don’t know if I’ll allow it. I’ll have to think about it.” She sound unsure.

“My mother was very proud and happy when I had my Bris. It didn’t bother her a tall. She wanted it as much as my father did. So, there’s nothing to think about. It’s going to happen.” Mica insists.

“This is my baby. I’ll decide what happens to him.” Trista shot back.

“He’s my baby, too. And I say he has a Bris. Maybe you don’t understand. A Bris is a covenant with God. It puts our child in line with God’s order. I had a Bris, my father had a Bris, my grandfather and all my brothers and male cousins had one. There can’t be any doubt about it. He’s getting a Bris.” Mica was pushing the issue very hard.

“I don’t know. But I do know, he’s going to be baptized by my family priest. He has baptized me and my siblings when we were born and I’ve always felt very secure knowing that. It has always given me peace of mind. That’s what I want for my son.”

“My son, too.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about with you. To be baptized as a Catholic, the priest will ask us to raise him according to the Catholic religion. You being Jewish make that, how do I say it, difficult, even impossible. So I was thinking, maybe you could become a Catholic, like me. I would be happy to show you how. Believe me, you would love being a Catholic. I always have. Also, raising him as a Catholic and married to you, a Jew, with a, how would I say it, very ethnic name like you have, and I have nothing against Jewish people, I was thinking about using my last name instead of yours. I use my maiden name still. Also, it would be confusing for him, you know, being Catholic and having a Jewish last name.” Trista hoped that would go over in a good way

“No, forget it. I’m not becoming a Catholic. He’s also having my last name and not becoming Catholic. And there’s no Baptism, either. I won’t allow it.”

“Who are you to tell me what I’m going to do with my son?” The ire in her voice was going up.

“What’s more, for sure, no Bris. I won’t allow it. The thought of defiling your own son.”

Then she thought about the Bris for a second.

“What do they do with the foreskin after the Bris. Throw it in the garbage? I also heard that in the Jewish religion, the religion of the mother is the child’s religion, too. Is that true?”

No answer.

Mica shot back “What do they do with the water after the Baptism? Water the plants? Or maybe the priest should use a bar of soap with the Baptism so he could give the baby a bath at the same time.”

By now any sort of civility was long gone. It had become a shouting match between two religions. And this became a double ring ceremony. The matrimony ring and the boxing ring.

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