I can still recall the day in 1998 when my son Stephen called to tell me and my wife Ruth that he had just purchased a black hat to go with his full-length beard. This seemed to signal that there was no turning back, that he had become a full-fledged Lubavitcher.  Growing up in St. Louis, he was a member of the Reform congregation we had joined and, while dutifully attending religious school, had never shown a particularly serious interest in religion. 

It was in college, at Yale, where, apparently searching for greater meaning in the universe, he met a charismatic Lubavitch rabbi and helped found a Chabad organization on campus called the Chai Society. He now makes his home in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, the epicenter of  the Lubavitch world, and calls himself Shaya. 

To be honest, our first reaction to his religious conversion – especially the black hat – was one that is typical of many Reform Jews: we were shocked and dismayed. It was not as if he had joined the Brown Shirts or Red Brigades or some radical fringe group, but to us it represented a sea-change in our relationship and threatened to play havoc with family dynamics.  One couple we knew, whose son was also a ba’al teshuva  (i.e., had come to Orthodox Judaism later in life), half-jokingly invited us to join a support group called Parents of Religious Kids (PORK). 

When Ruth and I were interviewed for a USA Today article on “When Kids Get Pious, Parents Can Get ‘Freaked Out’,” I admitted that I was worried Shaya “had gone off the deep end.” (As an aside, I can claim my photo appeared in the newspaper on the same page with Beyonce, Sting, and Kanye West.  No, they are not ba’al teshuvas.)  The USA Today interview was followed with one on NPR, so we really had our 15 seconds of celebrity thanks to Shaya. It took much longer than that for us to make the adjustment and accept his new religious belief system.

It helped that we had no real alternative but to make peace with the situation, at least if we still wanted to remain close with our son. It also helped that Shaya upon graduation from college decided to forego law school for only one year, to study at a yeshiva in Jerusalem, and became a lawyer who was fortunate to be hired by Davis, Polk, one of the very best firms in the United States; we figured if he was good enough for Davis, Polk, he could not have strayed too far from a life of reason. 

However, what most enabled us to cope was Shaya’s willingness to meet us halfway when necessary to accommodate core family obligations. For example, he has eaten at our home when visiting St. Louis as long as we provided strictly kosher food with paper plates and plastic utensils; he also agreed to serve as best man at his brother Sean’s wedding despite the fact that the ceremony was performed by a female rabbi. These are not insignificant concessions, given his  Orthodoxy. Yes, he has tried to convince me to study Torah and become a more observant Jew, but he has not imposed his views on Ruth or me. 

The two of us have come to not only respect his religion but also embrace it insofar as we find many aspects of it very admirable. Walk through Crown Heights, and you are transported into a different world, one where “family values” are not ridiculed but family is sacred, where the Rebbe (the late Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson) is an inspiring role model far superior to what so many of our kids are exposed to on “American Idol,” where a demanding regimen is followed regarding dietary laws, prayer, and other routines that contrast with the narcissistic  “do your own thing” ethos the larger society has inherited from Woodstock. Shaya is happy, with a wonderful wife and five kids and, for whatever it is worth, is making far more money than I am, although this impresses me more than him. 

I find myself resenting the New York Times and other liberal media, which are almost anti-religion in their news coverage and editorials; Hollywood is also known to mock and savage nuns, priests, and rabbis (as in the movies “Dogma” and “A Serious Man”).  

It is curious that liberals tend to have a blind spot when it comes to respecting diversity, as they preach tolerance for every lifestyle imaginable except for religiously devout people, whether Evangelicals, Roman Catholics, or Hasidic Jews.  

I am not ready to become a Lubavitcher, but I will defend my son’s right to practice his faith. If your child is about to make a similar leap of faith, I would encourage you not to panic but to learn to wear several hats as Ruth and I have.