It's official.

I made the cut, took the plunge and was adopted into the Tribe.  My name in Israel is Shmuel Yochanan ben Avraham v'Sarah.  That was back on May 14 (1 Sivan, 5770).

I don't know when the last time was anyone's actually converted locally.  There's no rabbi here, so the last person from here to convert went to Minneapolis to get it done, and that was close to 4 years ago.  But, in a very unusual occurrence for this synagogue, 7 people converted the same day. This made it worthwhile to import a Rabbi from Cincinnati --  none other than Rabbi Steve Mills, the Lead Union Rabbi for the URJ.  (He was the student rabbi here back about 1992.)

The nearest regulation mikveh is in Winnipeg and run by the Chabad, making it impractical for Reform converts from Grand Forks.  But one of the things that has allowed the Jewish people to survive through the millennia is the ability to adapt.  So it was that the 7 of us, plus the rabbi, the student rabbi, and our chosen witnesses gathered at the motel mikveh (swimming pool).

A beit din consisting of all the above convened in a conference room, and we basically had a group discussion about how we came to Judaism, how it fit into our lives, etc.  Then it was off to the pool.  Baggies of blessing were handed out (needed to be waterproof, of course) but I had them memorized and wouldn't be able to read them without my glasses anyway.  Considering the venue, we weren't nekkid, and we immersed en-masse. 

After our dip, I went home and hung a mezuzah.  That evening at services there was a brief ceremony where we were welcomed into the congregation.  We each held the Torah and recited the Shemah. I admit my voice broke a  bit.  We were then given the opportunity to address the congregation.  I mentioned something about my 40 year search in a spiritual wilderness as a wandering Gentile, but most of that is a blur. Eacjh of us was presented with a book chosen by the student rabbi.  She picked Jewish Living for me, because I'm always digging to find the source of things.

Next morning was a brother/sister B'nai Mitzvah.  Before the service, the kids' dad took me aside and said "You're one of us now, you can wear a tallit if you want." Wearing that made it feel really real.

Then, last night at Erev Shabbat service, I was called up for an aliyah.  Made it through without resorting to the transliteration, and only stumbled once.  I guess now it really *is* real.