As a former Catholic preparing for conversion to Judaism, I understand your attraction to the rituals of Catholicism. For much of my life, it was the Mass -- especially when celebrated by a dedicated and charismatic priest -- that reaffirmed for me that Catholicism was God's religion. The pomp, the ritual, the repeated affirmations of what we as Catholics held as "truth" were, at certain points in my life, very comforting, uplifting and energizing.

When I first attended services at a Conservative synagogue -- while still a practicing Catholic -- the prayer and ceremony seemed cold in comparison. I remember thinking at that time that these poor Jews were missing out. Waiting for the Messiah seemed to leave them in an unfortunate state of longing. Believing in Jesus was much easier: God came to earth, laid out ways we were supposed to live, subjected himself completely to the evil of the world, rose above it to show we could too, and left behind a way for us to physically connect with him through the Eucharist. It was all wrapped up and ready for acceptance. Just believe!

Yet, over time, I found Catholicism couldn't hold up to scrutiny. My inquiries into Church teachings, doctrines and beliefs too often were met with the dead-end response of "Well, you just have to take it on faith." Still, separating myself from the Church didn't seem an option. The Church was one of the ways I connected with my family and friends -- and, in its flawed ways, to God. I knew of no other option. Now, with more than 17 years of marriage to a Jew, a daughter preparing for her bat mitzvah, and eight years of membership in a Reform community, I have found that Judaism's centuries-old foundation of thought and study gives it great flexibility and great stability in dealing with our evolving humanity. And while it is, indeed, a religion of laws and traditions, its strength comes from acknowledging the importance of asking questions, of wrestling with God. 

One of my main concerns and frustrations with Judaism is that centuries of persecution have left Jews fearful of being open with non-Jews about their beliefs. To my mind, more of the world would be healed if there were a fuller understanding and acceptance of Jewish thought. If the way to start down that road to understanding and acceptance is, as you say, to "approach the faith of the Other with a completely open, almost childlike sense of wonder and bewilderment," so be it. Let's begin the dialogue with a (seemingly) simple, unthreatening question. And before asking the second question . . . Listen. What could be more human, more Jewish?