Christina de Jesus is a Jewish song leader

By Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO — On the third Friday evening of each month, the Shir Chadash (New Song) Band leads services celebrating Shabbat at Tifereth Israel Synagogue.  The young mother whose alto voice provides the harmonies to the Shabbat melodies is an example of religious mobility.  Just hearing that her name is “Christina de Jesus,” informs you that she grew up in a Christian family.  Just hearing her sing satisfies you that she is more than comfortable, she is at home, in her adopted faith: Judaism.

De Jesus, a native-born San Diegan, grew up in a Filipino family that came to San Diego via her grandparents’ service in the United States Navy.  Her father, Roland, continued in the Naval tradition, and until Christina was 8 years old, the family moved from one duty station to another, including Mississippi; Monterey, California; and Guam.  Eventually, her mother, Miriam, put her foot down: “Okay,” she declared, “we are going to stay in San Diego where the rest of our family is.  I am not traveling anymore.”  After that, Christina’s father traveled from place to place, while the rest of the family settled into the San Diego County life style.  They lived first in Nestor, then moved to the Rancho Del Rey neighborhood of Chula Vista, where she attended Chula Vista Junior High School and Chula Vista High School.  She enrolled in the school’s creative and performing arts program, where she sang soprano in the school choir.

“I had the same choir director throughout six years,” de Jesus recalled.  “He probably needed a strong soprano.  In college, I found out that I am actually an alto.  I can sing soprano parts, but my voice just isn’t as suited for them.  My voice’s home register in in the alto range.”

She’s glad of that, she said.  “In traditional choral music, it is the middle voices that make it sound interesting.  The bass voice tells you what key you are in, the soprano tells you the melody, and the alto and the tenor can be the ones who make the difference between a boring song, and an amazing, interesting song to listen to.”

There are two vocalists and four instrumentalists in the Shir Chadash band.  Ted Stern plays bass guitar.  David Ogul, who also is president of the Conservative congregation, plays lead guitar.  Miriam Shoval sings soprano.  Susan Levy, who was a co-founder of the band, plays piano.  Bob Holloway, who like Christina is a Jew by choice, plays the clarinet.  For the most part, the songs they play, with an upbeat tempo, are well-known Shabbat melodies. Members of the congregation sing along, sometimes clapping their hands, and occasionally dancing in the aisles.  “When I sing a song, I try to inspire ruach (spirit),” says de Jesus. “I am trying to sing a song to help other people feel moved, feel some kind of connection to why we are there – to celebrate Shabbat, and to come together as a community.”

“Christina brings far more than amazing vocals and a strong background in music composition to Shir Chadash,” comments Ogul. “She brings ruach, energy, and inspiration to all she encounters, not to mention being a most loving and nurturing mom of two beautiful little cherubs. In all the years I’ve known her, I can’t ever recall seeing her become angry at anyone, and I have rarely seen her without a smile. If the world were filled with more Christinas, it would be a much more beautiful place.”

Holloway commented: “Christina learns her music very quickly; she is not only a talented linguist but a talented musician.”

De Jesus is married to Paul Kalmar,  who along with his parents, Dr. Frank Kalmar and Susan Stern, often sits in the front row so that his and Christina’s children, Louis, 3 ½ and Winifred, 7 months, can be close to their mother while she is performing.  During the singing of the V’shamru prayer, Paul will toss Louis up in the air and catch him, to the rhythm, so often that the congregation has all but learned to expect it.

While growing up, de Jesus experienced the important rituals of Catholicism, explaining: “My mom and dad are pretty religious,” she said. “They got us baptized when we were supposed to be baptized; they got us communion when we were supposed to have communion, and they got us confirmation when we were supposed to have confirmation.  It was the whole gamut. … I definitely felt some sort of spiritual connection, wondering about man’s place in the world and how our souls and spirits connect.  But after going to college [at UC Berkeley], I was really starting to question ‘Is this really what I believe, or is this what I was raised to believe?’”

At the Newman Center at the campus she sometimes would debate theological questions with members of the Opus Dei, a lay Catholic organization, but as college wore on, “I thought this isn’t jibing anymore, I can’t agree with this.  It didn’t seem like the right fit spiritually.  So, I stopped going, much to my parents’ and grandparents’ chagrin.  For a while I was nothing, just agnostic, but I still was interested in religions and the philosophies behind them.”  So, she remained unaffiliated until after graduating from Berkeley with a degree in electrical engineering, and later meeting Paul Kalmar, a UC-Irvine graduate, through the “okcupid” online dating website.

“That was in 2007 and he was my first close exposure to Judaism,” she said.  “There is a little joke in his family.  My name is Christina de Jesus, and that is the most unJewish name you possibly could have.  On caller ID, it shows up as ‘de Jesus, Christ.’ … and here is a Jewish boy dating a non-Jewish girl.  Here is Paul, the grandson of Holocaust survivors, dating a non-Jew!”

Ever a student, de Jesus started Googling about Judaism, reading Wikipedia entries, which eventually led her to the Jewish Theological Seminary website.  “Eventually, after we had been dating a little while, there was a Basic Judaism class that Rabbi [Leonard] Rosenthal was teaching at Tifereth Israel, and I thought, ‘This is awesome, let’s sign up.’”  So, she enrolled, as did Paul, who took it as a refresher course.  “I guess I am one of the few Jews who has ever read the entire Tanach (Jewish Bible) from cover to cover,” said Christina. “One of the things that I thought was interesting is how different it can be, based on who is translating.”

Recalling the Basic Judaism class, she said, “It was the first religious class where I had been encouraged to ask questions and there wasn’t a predetermined answer that was right.  In Judaism, you are supposed to ask questions.  You are supposed to think critically.  You are supposed to ask, ‘Why would God say something like that,’ like ‘Abraham, go bind your son Isaac’?  There isn’t one specific interpretation; whereas in (Catholic) catechism classes, they encouraged us to ask questions, but ultimately what the church said was right.”

Another aspect of Judaism that appealed to de Jesus was the “emphasis on direct accountability –why should I go through some intermediary to get absolution?”—and on action in this world being important.  “We live in this world, why shouldn’t we take action to make this world better here and now.”

As part of the Basic Judaism class, de Jesus attended various services in the sanctuary, experiencing the cycle of Jewish holidays.  “My first Jewish service was the Kol Nidre,” she said.  “Who does Kol Nidre first?  But that was it.  I thought it was beautiful.  My connection there was the music, as you might imagine.  The solemnity of Kol Nidre, the ruach in the sanctuary … the feeling there, the chills, and then I started reading through the mahzor [High Holy Day prayer book] and its commentaries.”

There wasn’t one “Aha” moment when she decided that she would convert; instead, the idea dawned upon her that Judaism was something to which she could commit herself.  “You do a lot of study” she said.  “You and your rabbi determine when you are at the point that you determine that you are ready.  Rabbi Rosenthal was at that point that I was ready way before I was.  He didn’t say anything, but when I said I was ready, it was like, ‘It’s about time!’  So, we went up to the American Jewish University in Los Angeles, and I went before the beth din.  It was terrifying.  Oh my gosh, there were these three guys [rabbis] who literally had the power to say. ‘She’s not ready yet, come back later’ and that would have been a bummer because I was supposed to go on Birthright (a free 10-day trip to Israel) that year, and if they had said ‘no,’ I wouldn’t have been able to go.”

Most of the rabbis’ questions dealt with her personal connection to Judaism, and why she felt it was right for her, but one rabbi asked a question that stumped her.  How many times should one ask for forgiveness before letting the matter drop?  “The correct answer is three, and that I didn’t know,” she said, but missing a question didn’t disqualify her.

Following her appearance before the beth din, she went to the mikvah (ritual bath).  “My parents will tell you that I am a water baby,” she said.  “I’ve loved water forever. The mikvah is this wonderful thing; there is all this stuff about it being a rebirth.  It is a cliché, but it is totally true.  It is just you in the warm water.  You are totally immersed.  Dunk, dunk, dunk, and you say a baracha (blessing), and you are a Jew.  I felt warm and loved and new – brand new—coming out of there.

“Before you go on in you wash, comb your hair (for me that took forever), you scrub super well, clean your nails, and then you go into a room with [female] attendants. For the conversion ceremony, you dunk three times, and the mikvah attendant tells you if it is a good dunk, and I had three good dunks.  After the third time, you say the shema {a prayr proclaiming the oneness of God] – your first time as a Jew.  I sang the shema.  The chamber was small, the sound was echoing all over the room.  Afterwards the rabbi [who was positioned behind a partition] congratulated me, and the attendant gave me some time to float and process and be there in that water. It was one of the highlights of my life, it was so beautiful.”

Her conversion was in April 2011.  She went on the Birthright trip to Israel in June, and she and Paul were married in the sanctuary of Tifereth Israel Synagogue that December.

At first, her parents “had a hard time” with her conversion.  “Our child is becoming a Jew, what are we going to do?” she paraphrased.  Then her aunt pointed out to her parents that they were really sad when Christina had stopped going to church, “so would you rather she had a connection now, even if not a Catholic connection, or would you rather her to continue to have no connection?”  After that conversation, her parents became okay with it.  “Their ideal?  No.  But they are happy the grandchildren will be raised in a fairly religious home.”

Like Paul’s mother, Christina keeps her birth name, aware that the name “de Jesus” is bound to occasion interesting conversation in Jewish circles.

Paul and Christina have numerous interests in common.  Both are computer people.  Christina works in the field of networking computers.  Paul works in the field of translating human speech to computer algorithms, enabling the computer to find the answer to a spoken question.  They both enjoy folk dancing, with Paul, an Israeli dancing enthusiast, having taught Christina some of the Israeli dances.  They also have attended together Filipino folk dancing exhibitions.  When their children are old enough, they would like them also to learn folk dances of the world.

Rosenthal, who today is Tifereth Israel’s emeritus rabbi, recalled that de Jesus “was an enthusiastic, bubbly, and insightful student. She demonstrated not only a grasp of the details of Judaism, but more importantly, the overarching meaning of living a Jewish life. After her formal conversion she and her husband, Paul, continued to participate in synagogue life and especially educational programs. She continues to be a bright and inquisitive student. I was thrilled when she volunteered for Shir Chadash. I had no idea that she has such a beautiful voice and skill at harmonizing.  You can see the love in the sparkle of her eyes as she leads the service.”

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Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World.  He may be contacted via donald.harrison@sdjewishworld.com