I had some time ago circled May 2 on my calendar. The Shabbat when we read Acharei Mot-Kedoshim, which contain the two verses that through the ages have been interpreted by Jews and Christians against homosexuality. I had been planning to teach from the pulpit about Judaism and the inclusion of people who are gay, lesbian, bisexuality, transsexual, and transgender.
Then a few weeks ago, Noreen and I responded to an offer from Keshet, a Boston-based group that works on GLBT issues in the Jewish community. Two members of the staff came to speak with us, to talk about what we are or could be doing in the synagogue. Out of that meeting came, among other things, our planned showing of "Hineini" on Monday, May 11 at 6:30. It's a film about a teenager at the multidenominational Jewish high school in Boston who was out as a lesbian and wanted the school to allow her to establish a gay-straight alliance group.
And this week, I received a call from a member, State Senator Bette Lasky. Two bills had passed the New Hampshire House of Representatives and were coming to the State Senate Judiciary Committee for discussion. HB436 deals with same-sex marriage, and HB415 adds "gender identity or expression" to the antidiscrimination laws. She wanted to know what Conservative Judaism has to say about these questions.
So it's time to speak. I'll first tell you where I stand, then explain how I got there. It will take me more than one post and the one talk to complete my thoughts, no doubt. I invite responses, questions, dialogue at all points.
All people are created in the image of God. In our society there should be complete equality regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. In the Jewish community, there should be welcome to people of all sexual orientations or gender identities. In American society, two people who love each other and are committed to a life together should be able to enjoy all the rights and privileges of marriage. If two Jews who are the same sex approach me with that kind of love and commitment, I will talk with them about their relationship the same way I would with two people of the opposite sex. If they are suited to be married, I will perform a religious ceremony under a chuppah that incorporates elements of the traditional Jewish ceremony of kiddushin and nissuin and that would be recognized as a marriage in those states that recognize same-sex marriage. I am engaged with people I admire and trust, rabbis and others (of all sexual orientations), as we think about whether the Jewish ceremony for same-sex couples should be identical to the traditional ceremony of kiddushin v'nissuin.
Since these issues were before the Legislature this week, I wrote a letter to my state senator and to Governor Lynch. I wrote them as an individual, in my own name and not in the name of Temple Beth Abraham. But I share the text with you, along with my more elaborate thoughts on the blog here.
As a straight person, married with children, I try to watch the language I use when I talk about these matters. It's easy to think of equality or marriage as a right that "we" (white, male, straight, etc.) give to "others". That's how it plays out in a society where the political and religious decisions involve more men, whites, Christians, straights than women, people of color, religious minorities, GLBT. But I believe that from God's point of view, it doesn't matter what there are more of. It's about humans in the image of God, not whether there are enough gays, enough Jews, etc. to be a political interest group.
(Speaking of language: I'll admit that I still don't know what the respectful language is that I ought to use. I have no idea whether every time I say or write "gay" I should instead write "gay and lesbian" or GLBT or something else. I don't know when to ask about someone's partner, husband, or wife. My kavvanah, my intentions, are good and please forgive me and educate me if in the writing here I don't get it right.)
When there's a new or difficult question, I start with people. Like many, I learned to understand something about being gay, or being in a same-sex relationship, from my friends who are. As friends or students have come out to me, I have been sad and then angry. To find out that people I cared about and admired were closeted, and then after coming out had the added burden of being everyone's gay friend, or the lesbian couple we know. It must be hard, having to be in a minority and also having to serve as living proof that you can be transgender and be a great teacher or in a committed relationship that inspires other people.
My friends have had that burden. It's only from them that I learned that GLBT isn't strange, that gay people can be simply great people. Then from some who are not my friends, I learned that what do you know, there are gay people who are jerks too! And with that I finally understood that none of this has anything to do with sexual orientation or gender identity. Niceness and jerkiness are distributed all over humanity. Same thing for the ability to form good relationships versus the inability to do so. You find great people and people you'd rather not be around among men and women, straights and GLBT, Caucasians and people of color, religious and non-religious.
Groups don't earn their civil rights by being better or behaving better than some norm. When I arrived at that formulation, I came to a new understanding of Genesis 1: There is no group that is any more or less the image of God than any other. And if straight people are not the only people with the divine spark, there's no way on theological grounds to say that heterosexual love is the only kind that has merit in God's plan.
That's how Genesis has become a text for me about equality and inclusion. People showed me what the text means. I am guided also by the Exodus. The story of Yetziat Mitzrayim, of going out from Egypt, is the core story of Judaism. It is a story about becoming seen, becoming free, and becoming part of a covenantal community. When Moshe first went out from Pharaoh's palace, he saw, and then he understood what was happening to the Hebrews and why. Then he allied himself with people who had been seen as "other." And once he was on the scene, there was a vessel for God's energy of freedom.
That story of liberation and covenant is four-fifths of the Torah. It's taking up most of our annual cycle, telling us that the liberation story is relevant each year we read it. God is with those who are unseen, held down. And we are told that we must imitiate God. That's why I don't see the religious issue in terms of two verses of Leviticus. Against those verses, I put entire chapters and books of the Torah.
I'm pausing for now. I will write again, particularly about Conservative Judaism. I will be speaking in the synagogue about some of these things on Shabbat morning, May 2, and will be e-mailing the congregation beforehand about it and about how to talk about these subjects with our children.
Shabbat shalom!
Then a few weeks ago, Noreen and I responded to an offer from Keshet, a Boston-based group that works on GLBT issues in the Jewish community. Two members of the staff came to speak with us, to talk about what we are or could be doing in the synagogue. Out of that meeting came, among other things, our planned showing of "Hineini" on Monday, May 11 at 6:30. It's a film about a teenager at the multidenominational Jewish high school in Boston who was out as a lesbian and wanted the school to allow her to establish a gay-straight alliance group.
And this week, I received a call from a member, State Senator Bette Lasky. Two bills had passed the New Hampshire House of Representatives and were coming to the State Senate Judiciary Committee for discussion. HB436 deals with same-sex marriage, and HB415 adds "gender identity or expression" to the antidiscrimination laws. She wanted to know what Conservative Judaism has to say about these questions.
So it's time to speak. I'll first tell you where I stand, then explain how I got there. It will take me more than one post and the one talk to complete my thoughts, no doubt. I invite responses, questions, dialogue at all points.
All people are created in the image of God. In our society there should be complete equality regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. In the Jewish community, there should be welcome to people of all sexual orientations or gender identities. In American society, two people who love each other and are committed to a life together should be able to enjoy all the rights and privileges of marriage. If two Jews who are the same sex approach me with that kind of love and commitment, I will talk with them about their relationship the same way I would with two people of the opposite sex. If they are suited to be married, I will perform a religious ceremony under a chuppah that incorporates elements of the traditional Jewish ceremony of kiddushin and nissuin and that would be recognized as a marriage in those states that recognize same-sex marriage. I am engaged with people I admire and trust, rabbis and others (of all sexual orientations), as we think about whether the Jewish ceremony for same-sex couples should be identical to the traditional ceremony of kiddushin v'nissuin.
Since these issues were before the Legislature this week, I wrote a letter to my state senator and to Governor Lynch. I wrote them as an individual, in my own name and not in the name of Temple Beth Abraham. But I share the text with you, along with my more elaborate thoughts on the blog here.
As a straight person, married with children, I try to watch the language I use when I talk about these matters. It's easy to think of equality or marriage as a right that "we" (white, male, straight, etc.) give to "others". That's how it plays out in a society where the political and religious decisions involve more men, whites, Christians, straights than women, people of color, religious minorities, GLBT. But I believe that from God's point of view, it doesn't matter what there are more of. It's about humans in the image of God, not whether there are enough gays, enough Jews, etc. to be a political interest group.
(Speaking of language: I'll admit that I still don't know what the respectful language is that I ought to use. I have no idea whether every time I say or write "gay" I should instead write "gay and lesbian" or GLBT or something else. I don't know when to ask about someone's partner, husband, or wife. My kavvanah, my intentions, are good and please forgive me and educate me if in the writing here I don't get it right.)
When there's a new or difficult question, I start with people. Like many, I learned to understand something about being gay, or being in a same-sex relationship, from my friends who are. As friends or students have come out to me, I have been sad and then angry. To find out that people I cared about and admired were closeted, and then after coming out had the added burden of being everyone's gay friend, or the lesbian couple we know. It must be hard, having to be in a minority and also having to serve as living proof that you can be transgender and be a great teacher or in a committed relationship that inspires other people.
My friends have had that burden. It's only from them that I learned that GLBT isn't strange, that gay people can be simply great people. Then from some who are not my friends, I learned that what do you know, there are gay people who are jerks too! And with that I finally understood that none of this has anything to do with sexual orientation or gender identity. Niceness and jerkiness are distributed all over humanity. Same thing for the ability to form good relationships versus the inability to do so. You find great people and people you'd rather not be around among men and women, straights and GLBT, Caucasians and people of color, religious and non-religious.
Groups don't earn their civil rights by being better or behaving better than some norm. When I arrived at that formulation, I came to a new understanding of Genesis 1: There is no group that is any more or less the image of God than any other. And if straight people are not the only people with the divine spark, there's no way on theological grounds to say that heterosexual love is the only kind that has merit in God's plan.
That's how Genesis has become a text for me about equality and inclusion. People showed me what the text means. I am guided also by the Exodus. The story of Yetziat Mitzrayim, of going out from Egypt, is the core story of Judaism. It is a story about becoming seen, becoming free, and becoming part of a covenantal community. When Moshe first went out from Pharaoh's palace, he saw, and then he understood what was happening to the Hebrews and why. Then he allied himself with people who had been seen as "other." And once he was on the scene, there was a vessel for God's energy of freedom.
That story of liberation and covenant is four-fifths of the Torah. It's taking up most of our annual cycle, telling us that the liberation story is relevant each year we read it. God is with those who are unseen, held down. And we are told that we must imitiate God. That's why I don't see the religious issue in terms of two verses of Leviticus. Against those verses, I put entire chapters and books of the Torah.
I'm pausing for now. I will write again, particularly about Conservative Judaism. I will be speaking in the synagogue about some of these things on Shabbat morning, May 2, and will be e-mailing the congregation beforehand about it and about how to talk about these subjects with our children.
Shabbat shalom!
