
Aug 12, 2025
6 min
A Journey from Secular to Spiritual
A summary of TJF Talks Episode #69 with guest Mairi



In a recent TheJewFunction episode, Mairi, a photographer who now lives in Israel, unpacks her story of rediscovering her Jewish roots, confronting antisemitism, and finding meaning in a world that often sidelines tradition in favor of individualism.
Her conversation with hosts Lio and Seth touches on some of the most pressing questions facing modern Jews: What does it mean to be Jewish today? How can we balance modernity with tradition? And, what role do community and identity play in the turbulent times we live in?

Falling Back in Love with Judaism
Mairi wasn’t always connected to her Jewishness. Born into an assimilated family with a Jewish identity but without much practice or belief, she lived a somewhat typical secular life on the Upper West Side of New York City. Growing up, questions of faith and identity naturally arose, but they weren’t always answered satisfactorily. “I knew I was Jewish, but there wasn’t much religious involvement,” she reflects. Her grandmother, for example, would host Christmas parties while proudly declaring her Jewish identity — an illustration of the contrasting messages Mairi grew up with.
But something shifted during her early twenties. After years of engaging with various forms of spirituality, including a serious engagement with Christianity, Mairi began to realize something profound: “I’m a Jew… I can’t escape it.” This reflection sparked a deeper journey into questioning and discovering what Judaism truly meant for her.
Rediscovering Judaism Post-Crisis
Mairi’s spiritual quest turned into a more active pursuit of Jewish identity. “I started asking really hard questions in Christian college, and they had no answers” she says. The final realization? Her questions were inherently Jewish, it wasn’t just about finding meaning but about being allowed to question in the first place.
From there, things escalated quickly. “I found a rabbi, and I asked if I needed to convert,” she recounts. But the rabbi’s answer was clear: “You can’t convert if you already are a Jew.” It hit her hard. She wasn’t just someone curious about religion; she was part of a people who had navigated millennia of hardship — and thrived. This realization, coupled with a newfound passion for Jewish practice, led to her eventual move to Israel.

Moving to Israel: A New Chapter
“I absolutely fell in love with Israel the second I got off the plane,” Mairi recounts. It wasn’t just about the culture or the spirituality; it was something deeper. “It was where I’d been looking for all along,” she explains. For Mairi, it wasn’t theoretical but intensely personal. Israel, and specifically Jewish values and practices, offered a concrete space for her soul-searching.
Mairi is part of a growing number of Jews who, although not religious in the strict Orthodox sense, have found community and meaning in a culturally rich form of Jewish engagement. “I don’t even care if someone eats shellfish; it’s about creating a Jewish home, with Jewish values,” she says, acknowledging that the spectrum of Jewish identity is wide, and it’s crucial to allow space for everyone.
What makes Mairi’s experience inspiring is her willingness to embrace uncertainty. She’s candid about the fact that she doesn’t know everything about her faith, but she’s unafraid to learn alongside others. “If my kids come to me asking what it means to be Jewish, we will just figure it out together,” she adds, emphasizing the evolving nature of Jewish identity.
Humor Amid Hardship: Jewish Resilience
One of the things Mairi touches on is the role of humor in Jewish resilience. Humor has long been a critical coping mechanism for a people who have faced relentless persecution. It’s part of an enduring cultural toolkit that has allowed Jews to maintain their humanity through the darkest of times.
Through it all, she maintains that this ability to laugh at tragedy reveals something more profound about Jewish survival: a refusal to be victims. Humor isn’t just entertaining; it’s life-affirming. “Jews can take pain and find a way to keep living,” Mairi says, offering a view into how even the heaviest burdens can be lightened through connection, humor, and shared cultural bonds.
Facing Antisemitism and Strengthening Identity
Ironically, the rise of antisemitism played a significant role in Mairi becoming more active in her Jewish identity. While living in the U.S., she experienced anti-Jewish sentiment firsthand. In Boston and New York, people around her casually made antisemitic remarks like, “Jews are greedy.” While these comments weren’t directed at her, they hit close enough to provoke a reaction. “It wasn’t at me, but it felt personal,” she admits.
Today, antisemitism is fueling a rallying cry within her. “If you don’t consciously love being Jewish, you can’t just fight antisemitism,” she states. It’s a reversal of the usual narrative, where Jewishness is only acted out in defiance of hate. Instead, she emphasizes the value of embracing Jewish identity on its own terms and making that the central focus. “It’s not sustainable if you’re only being anti-antisemitic,” Mairi adds, underscoring the need for proactive love of Judaism, not just reactive defense.
What Does It Mean to Be Jewish?
One of the more challenging questions Mairi tackles is how to define Jewish identity in modern times. For some, it’s about religious practice. For others, it’s about cultural pride or ethnic lineage. But for Mairi, it’s about all those things, wrapped within a broader sense of purpose and continuity.
“I realized at 27 that I was the last Jew in my family’s generation,” she says, which ignited in her a new determination to keep her family’s Jewish identity alive. But she acknowledges the challenge of defining ‘Jewishness’ in a way that satisfies everyone. Still, one point rings true: “Whether I end up an atheist or some other path, I will always be part of this. Nothing can remove me from it.”
Lio chimes in, reinforcing this uncertainty. “What do we have to be proud of today? Not some past Jews, but us now?” It’s a valid question, and one that seemingly hangs in the air. Mairi is clear: the mere survival of the Jewish people, despite millennia of exile and persecution, is a miracle in itself. “It’s kind of like we have a calling to just continue,” she remarks.
Creating Jewish Homes: A New Mission
Perhaps one of the standout moments is when Mairi discusses the importance of building strong, loving Jewish homes. “We need to create Jewish homes, whatever that looks like for each couple,” she says. Her sentiment is clear. It’s less about dogma and more about shared values. Whether that includes following all religious commandments or none, it’s the unity and identity that matter.
And it’s not just about Jewish couples. Mairi also finds value in broader inclusivity. Some of her friends are intermarried but still make sure their homes are identifiably Jewish. “They want to do a Jewish home, and their partners are on board,” she says. It’s a refreshing take that prioritizes the Jewish experience over rigid definitions of ‘who’s in.’
Her passion for this mission goes further. She regularly sets up Jewish singles, relishing in watching those connections bloom. But building homes isn’t about numbers alone. For Mairi, it’s a way to ensure the continuation of Jewish identity and community. “It’s what we have, and we can’t take it for granted.”
Jewish Unity: A Priority for All
The conversation takes a serious turn when the question of Jewish unity and disunity comes up. Mairi and the hosts delve into the tensions between religious groups, political factions, and geographical divides, especially after the events of October 7. “It shouldn’t have taken October 7th to unify us,” Mairi laments. But it’s clear: unity can’t be taken lightly. It’s integral to Jewish survival and the Jewish future.
“We have to focus on what binds us, not what divides us,” she says, and it resonates on both a national and personal level. Mairi’s journey of self-discovery underscores how individual identity can flourish alongside collective responsibility.
Conclusion: Moving Toward a Future of Jewish Continuity
Mairi’s journey is far from over, but the lessons from her story are clear. Being Jewish isn’t just a passive state of existence, it requires active engagement, exploration, and a willingness to keep questioning. Whether through bringing people together, fighting antisemitism, or simply nurturing a Jewish home, Mairi is part of a broader movement toward reclamation. A reclamation not of dogma, but of love for one’s family, one’s community, and one’s identity.
Ultimately, in uncertain times, the answer to what defines Jewishness might be less about strict guidelines and more about keeping the flame alive — both for today and for future generations. Mairi’s story serves as a reminder that it’s up to everyone to continue asking the critical questions that keep Jewish identity evolving, relevant, and, above all, alive.
In a recent TheJewFunction episode, Mairi, a photographer who now lives in Israel, unpacks her story of rediscovering her Jewish roots, confronting antisemitism, and finding meaning in a world that often sidelines tradition in favor of individualism.
Her conversation with hosts Lio and Seth touches on some of the most pressing questions facing modern Jews: What does it mean to be Jewish today? How can we balance modernity with tradition? And, what role do community and identity play in the turbulent times we live in?

Falling Back in Love with Judaism
Mairi wasn’t always connected to her Jewishness. Born into an assimilated family with a Jewish identity but without much practice or belief, she lived a somewhat typical secular life on the Upper West Side of New York City. Growing up, questions of faith and identity naturally arose, but they weren’t always answered satisfactorily. “I knew I was Jewish, but there wasn’t much religious involvement,” she reflects. Her grandmother, for example, would host Christmas parties while proudly declaring her Jewish identity — an illustration of the contrasting messages Mairi grew up with.
But something shifted during her early twenties. After years of engaging with various forms of spirituality, including a serious engagement with Christianity, Mairi began to realize something profound: “I’m a Jew… I can’t escape it.” This reflection sparked a deeper journey into questioning and discovering what Judaism truly meant for her.
Rediscovering Judaism Post-Crisis
Mairi’s spiritual quest turned into a more active pursuit of Jewish identity. “I started asking really hard questions in Christian college, and they had no answers” she says. The final realization? Her questions were inherently Jewish, it wasn’t just about finding meaning but about being allowed to question in the first place.
From there, things escalated quickly. “I found a rabbi, and I asked if I needed to convert,” she recounts. But the rabbi’s answer was clear: “You can’t convert if you already are a Jew.” It hit her hard. She wasn’t just someone curious about religion; she was part of a people who had navigated millennia of hardship — and thrived. This realization, coupled with a newfound passion for Jewish practice, led to her eventual move to Israel.

Moving to Israel: A New Chapter
“I absolutely fell in love with Israel the second I got off the plane,” Mairi recounts. It wasn’t just about the culture or the spirituality; it was something deeper. “It was where I’d been looking for all along,” she explains. For Mairi, it wasn’t theoretical but intensely personal. Israel, and specifically Jewish values and practices, offered a concrete space for her soul-searching.
Mairi is part of a growing number of Jews who, although not religious in the strict Orthodox sense, have found community and meaning in a culturally rich form of Jewish engagement. “I don’t even care if someone eats shellfish; it’s about creating a Jewish home, with Jewish values,” she says, acknowledging that the spectrum of Jewish identity is wide, and it’s crucial to allow space for everyone.
What makes Mairi’s experience inspiring is her willingness to embrace uncertainty. She’s candid about the fact that she doesn’t know everything about her faith, but she’s unafraid to learn alongside others. “If my kids come to me asking what it means to be Jewish, we will just figure it out together,” she adds, emphasizing the evolving nature of Jewish identity.
Humor Amid Hardship: Jewish Resilience
One of the things Mairi touches on is the role of humor in Jewish resilience. Humor has long been a critical coping mechanism for a people who have faced relentless persecution. It’s part of an enduring cultural toolkit that has allowed Jews to maintain their humanity through the darkest of times.
Through it all, she maintains that this ability to laugh at tragedy reveals something more profound about Jewish survival: a refusal to be victims. Humor isn’t just entertaining; it’s life-affirming. “Jews can take pain and find a way to keep living,” Mairi says, offering a view into how even the heaviest burdens can be lightened through connection, humor, and shared cultural bonds.
Facing Antisemitism and Strengthening Identity
Ironically, the rise of antisemitism played a significant role in Mairi becoming more active in her Jewish identity. While living in the U.S., she experienced anti-Jewish sentiment firsthand. In Boston and New York, people around her casually made antisemitic remarks like, “Jews are greedy.” While these comments weren’t directed at her, they hit close enough to provoke a reaction. “It wasn’t at me, but it felt personal,” she admits.
Today, antisemitism is fueling a rallying cry within her. “If you don’t consciously love being Jewish, you can’t just fight antisemitism,” she states. It’s a reversal of the usual narrative, where Jewishness is only acted out in defiance of hate. Instead, she emphasizes the value of embracing Jewish identity on its own terms and making that the central focus. “It’s not sustainable if you’re only being anti-antisemitic,” Mairi adds, underscoring the need for proactive love of Judaism, not just reactive defense.
What Does It Mean to Be Jewish?
One of the more challenging questions Mairi tackles is how to define Jewish identity in modern times. For some, it’s about religious practice. For others, it’s about cultural pride or ethnic lineage. But for Mairi, it’s about all those things, wrapped within a broader sense of purpose and continuity.
“I realized at 27 that I was the last Jew in my family’s generation,” she says, which ignited in her a new determination to keep her family’s Jewish identity alive. But she acknowledges the challenge of defining ‘Jewishness’ in a way that satisfies everyone. Still, one point rings true: “Whether I end up an atheist or some other path, I will always be part of this. Nothing can remove me from it.”
Lio chimes in, reinforcing this uncertainty. “What do we have to be proud of today? Not some past Jews, but us now?” It’s a valid question, and one that seemingly hangs in the air. Mairi is clear: the mere survival of the Jewish people, despite millennia of exile and persecution, is a miracle in itself. “It’s kind of like we have a calling to just continue,” she remarks.
Creating Jewish Homes: A New Mission
Perhaps one of the standout moments is when Mairi discusses the importance of building strong, loving Jewish homes. “We need to create Jewish homes, whatever that looks like for each couple,” she says. Her sentiment is clear. It’s less about dogma and more about shared values. Whether that includes following all religious commandments or none, it’s the unity and identity that matter.
And it’s not just about Jewish couples. Mairi also finds value in broader inclusivity. Some of her friends are intermarried but still make sure their homes are identifiably Jewish. “They want to do a Jewish home, and their partners are on board,” she says. It’s a refreshing take that prioritizes the Jewish experience over rigid definitions of ‘who’s in.’
Her passion for this mission goes further. She regularly sets up Jewish singles, relishing in watching those connections bloom. But building homes isn’t about numbers alone. For Mairi, it’s a way to ensure the continuation of Jewish identity and community. “It’s what we have, and we can’t take it for granted.”
Jewish Unity: A Priority for All
The conversation takes a serious turn when the question of Jewish unity and disunity comes up. Mairi and the hosts delve into the tensions between religious groups, political factions, and geographical divides, especially after the events of October 7. “It shouldn’t have taken October 7th to unify us,” Mairi laments. But it’s clear: unity can’t be taken lightly. It’s integral to Jewish survival and the Jewish future.
“We have to focus on what binds us, not what divides us,” she says, and it resonates on both a national and personal level. Mairi’s journey of self-discovery underscores how individual identity can flourish alongside collective responsibility.
Conclusion: Moving Toward a Future of Jewish Continuity
Mairi’s journey is far from over, but the lessons from her story are clear. Being Jewish isn’t just a passive state of existence, it requires active engagement, exploration, and a willingness to keep questioning. Whether through bringing people together, fighting antisemitism, or simply nurturing a Jewish home, Mairi is part of a broader movement toward reclamation. A reclamation not of dogma, but of love for one’s family, one’s community, and one’s identity.
Ultimately, in uncertain times, the answer to what defines Jewishness might be less about strict guidelines and more about keeping the flame alive — both for today and for future generations. Mairi’s story serves as a reminder that it’s up to everyone to continue asking the critical questions that keep Jewish identity evolving, relevant, and, above all, alive.