Sharing Our Faith
- Rabbi Sarah Weissman

- Nov 7
- 4 min read
Pop quiz: what does Vice-President JD Vance have in common with a fictional rabbi? The answer: both Vance and Noah Roklov, the charming rabbi in the TV show “Nobody Wants This,” want their partners to convert to their religions. Vance made news last week by publicly declaring that he hoped his wife Usha would someday convert from Hinduism to Christianity. At an event at the University of Mississippi, he said, “Do I hope eventually that she is somehow moved by the same thing that I was moved by in church? Yeah, I honestly do wish that because I believe in the Christian Gospel, and I hope eventually my wife comes to see it the same way.” Likewise, the premise of “Nobody Wants This” is the love story of Rabbi Noah and Joanne, who’s not Jewish. The plot centers on the tension between his love for her and his desire to marry a Jewish woman. So he teaches Joanne a bit about Judaism in the hopes that she will be moved by it and want to convert. Because Rabbi Noah is the hero of the show, he is extremely patient and understanding. He doesn’t make demands and resists ultimatums; he certainly doesn’t make public statements about his wishes at political rallies. But, and I don’t think I’m spoiling the show here, the problem remains: as a rabbi, he wants his partner to be Jewish. And Joanne just isn’t sure she wants to be.
Many people were offended by Vance’s remarks, considering them to be hostile to non-Christians or disrespectful of his wife’s identity and beliefs. I didn’t find his comments particularly upsetting, other than hoping he had discussed it with his wife before speaking about it publicly. As for the TV show, I’m sure some viewers relate to the Jewish character who wishes his partner shared his faith, and others relate to the non-Jewish spouse who is wondering why she’s not good enough just as she is. Both Vance’s comments and “Nobody Wants This” highlight a challenge that so many of us face: how to love and live with those who are of a different faith or cultural background.
I don’t have to tell you that intermarriage has long been a touchy subject in the Jewish community. Even today, it’s seen by many Jews, particularly those who are more traditionally observant, as a shanda, a disgrace and a threat to the Jewish community. Some of us have painful stories of families disowning their children who married non-Jews, or beloved rabbis who refused to officiate at interfaith weddings, or unpleasant interactions between future in-laws. Yet intermarriage in the American Jewish community is quite common, and only getting more so. According to the most recent Pew study of the American Jewish community, 42% of married Jews are intermarried, and 11% of married Jews are married to someone of a different race or ethnicity. In the Bay Area, 54% of Jews are intermarried, and 25% of Jewish households include a person of color. Especially for younger people, and especially in the Reform movement, intermarriage is often seen as no big deal, just a reflection of a more open, secular, and egalitarian society.
There are many happy intermarriages, to be sure. Some of you here tonight are proof of that. But I’m guessing that even for the most harmonious couples, there were some conversations that had to occur, some questions that needed asking and answering, in order to get to that happy place. In my experience, both as the product of an intermarriage and in working with dozens of wedding couples, the most successful relationships are the ones where they don’t ignore their differences or shrug them off, but they talk about their different perspectives, sometimes over and over again. That’s one reason I like “Nobody Wants This” – it takes Noah’s faith seriously, forcing him and Joanne to explore the essential questions of what it means to live a Jewish life and have a Jewish home. In case you were wondering, the other reasons I like the show are the clever writing and the portrayal of a young, attractive rabbi on TV.
In defense of Rabbi Noah and Vice-President Vance, they both find great meaning and joy in their faiths. It’s only natural that they would want their loved ones to experience the same meaning and the same joy. And it’s also only natural that those loved ones may not find the same meaning or joy in that faith. This might apply to our spouses, but also to our children or grandchildren. It might apply to family members who aren’t Jewish, and also to those who were born Jewish but aren’t particularly interested in practicing Judaism. Whatever the case, if our loved ones never come to see things our way, our faith can and should still be a force for good in our relationships. If being Jewish makes us happy, we’re going to be easier to live with. And if being Jewish motivates us to be kinder, more generous, more forgiving, and more loving, we’ll definitely be easier to live with. Our loved ones might not become Jewish themselves, but they might come to love Judaism because they love us. It may not be everything we wanted, but it just might be enough.
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