THE GOOD RAV: A Chassidic Talmud Chacham and Rabbi speaks:

                                                   Generic photo of a rabbi. NOT the speaker

This is a transcription from a speech given by a chassidic rabbi, a paskening rov, who does not identify as gay but who has been very supportive of LGBT people. This was not a private answer, but something that was said in front of an extremely large audience. Any mistakes are mine and not the rabbi's. 

I’d like to start with my personal journey regarding Judaism and homosexuality. It goes back over twelve years. It was late Thursday night. I came back after a long meeting and my wife said to me “Why are you crying?” I told her I’m sad for a young Jewish man, an Orthodox young man in his mid-thirties, who’d been to yeshiva for a number of years. He had come around after making an appointment and cancelling it, and then making another appointment and cancelling that one too, and then again, until he actually took courage to come around. 

He presented me with three questions:

1) I have never been attracted to women. I have always been attracted to men. I know there is a commandment in the Torah to be fruitful and multiply. Pru urvu. I have to have children. Is it indeed incumbent on me to get married and have children?

2) To the extent that I am a homosexual in orientation, meaning that I am only attracted to men and not to women, how would you behave towards me if I came to your shul? Would you allow me to daven before the amud? Would you allow me to get an aliyah? Would you allow me to be part of the community? What would happen if you knew I wasn’t just a homosexual in orientation but I was actually active, and engaged in a relationship with another man? Would that make a difference to you?

3) If it’s true that the Torah in the Book of Leviticus makes it clear, unequivocal, that it’s forbidden to engage in male homosexual liaison, I have to ask the question; G-d made me this way or He allowed me to develop like this, nature, nurture, but at the end of the day, I never chose it. From a very young age, this is what I recall. This is who I am. But G-d says, “Don’t engage in male-to-male intercourse”, so that means that I am obliged and presumed to remain celibate for my whole life. I won’t ask you why would G-d should do such a thing, to allow a [gay] person to develop through nature, nurture, providence, biology - and at the same time, constrain him in such a way as to give him a commandment that means that he has to remain lonely, to live a loveless life, craving for closeness, intimacy, physical intimacy included in sexuality, nevertheless deprived, frustrated, living a life of misery.

[The young man] posed those three questions that night and I hope to answer those three questions here now…

With regard to marriage, I said to him what I thought then was the obvious answer. I still think it is and I am surprised that there are others who disagree. If anyone, man or woman, draws another person into a marital relationship knowing that the other person is heterosexual, if a gay person draws another person into a relationship knowing that the other person craves a normal marriage and they are gay and they don’t inform their spouse of their orientation, this is an ethical crime of the highest order. 

Even if they do achieve what might be called informed consent, such a marriage is, “generally speaking” (there are always exceptions to every rule) an unconceived marriage for a number of obvious reasons. Even though, halachically, a man is obliged to get married and have children, there are circumstances when a person is not emotionally or physically equipped to have children. If a person is not attracted to women, then this would mean he would be exempt from fulfilling the positive commandment “Be fruitful and multiply.”  Halachically, I explained that there is a category *, there is only a certain extent that a person must push themselves or expend his resources in order to fulfill any given commandment, including this primary commandment of getting married. If a person’s psychological infrastructure was such that it didn’t attract him to women, he is not obliged to steel himself and live in a marital relationship in order to have children.

Subsequently, even recently, I have realized how important it is that this message gets across. Firstly, because I myself have seen many cases where people have been encouraged by spiritual leaders, psychological counselors, lay leaders, to get married and very often these [gay] people have gotten married with the best intentions and subsequently, they’ve suffered the consequences. They, their spouses, their children. In the aftermath of an acrimonious divorce, things become extremely messy, extremely painful for them.

The other reason is, because only recently in a kiruv journal that’s published in Flatbush, it was suggested that people who go through therapy, even though they are going to have relapses, even though it’s almost inevitable that there will be relapses into homosexual conduct, should get married. I find this to be mind-boggling! I feel it is important that people should be aware that getting married is not just a privilege, it’s a responsibility and a duty, and if a [gay] person doesn’t have the ability to remain committed and is unlikely to be able to suppress his inclination in all ways and at all times, then it’s better that he doesn’t get married. On the contrary, to give up the dream of marriage and having children and bringing grandchildren to ones own parents is an extremely difficult thing, and those people who do that, knowing that they are not able to honour the marital vows, are in actuality doing an act of altruism, in depriving themselves of blessings that they themselves may crave, the blessings of family life and children.

With regard to the second question, I said to him, paraphrasing what my friend Rabbi M said, the Torah prohibition is not about orientation, it’s about actions. Clearly, whatever a person is, no matter what his orientation is, he should be welcome in shul. He should be a full-fledged member of the synagogue, and there should not be ostracizing and then, he’d never be disenfranchised. We should accept any member, man or woman, regardless of their orientation. 

There are, however, two types of communities. There are those communities that only allow people who observe the entire Torah to be part of their community. If you do even one sin, then you are out. Clearly, such a community would not allow an active homosexual Jew to be a part of their community. But the vast majority of Jewish communities today do allow all sorts of people, many of whom don’t keep a whole host of laws, to be part of the shul membership. And it must be added, people who are dishonest in business are allowed to be members of those shuls. Dishonesty in business is an infringement of a law against ones fellow man, an interpersonal crime, whereas homosexual relations are actually only a crime between man and G-d. There is no human victim here. It’s not in an exploitative context. 

Rambam, Maimonides, writes in a number of places, in his magnum opus, the Mishneh Torah, that forbidden sexual relationships come under the category of Bein Adam Lemakom, between man and  G-d. Therefore, in a community that makes room for people who don’t fully observe the shabbos or the rules of niddah, Taharas Hamishpacha, family purity and so on, there is no reason they should not  allow even practicing homosexuals to be part of their community, provided they [the homosexuals] are respectful to the ethos of the synagogue. But that’s true with regard to ALL people. We allow heterosexuals to be part of our community, sometimes we have shabbatonim for young boys and girls on Friday night, we don’t check up on them when they go home, and provided they are respectful to the shul,  they behave in accordance with the ethos of the shul, then of course they can be fully participant in the shul.

I believe that most people are not compelled to do things all of the time. There may be exceptions to the rule. In terms of assessing the severity or the lack of severity of a particular crime, you have to take into consideration the context. Today, even if people know something is forbidden, and they know that’s what the Torah says and that’s what the rabbi preaches from the pulpit. Even if they know that’s what they are supposed to do, they were raised in a society that disregarded these prohibitions. Generally speaking, they are classified in halachic literature as a tinok shenisba, a child taken into captivity. 

As condescending as the term may sound, Maimonides, in his Laws of Rebels, Hilchot Mamrim, chapter 3, section 3, used this term to describe second generation Karaites, who although they knew all their Jewish obligations and were quite familiar with the rabbinical tradition, and knew what they were supposed to do, nevertheless, since they were brought up in a society that disregards these rules and did not consider them to be binding , they weren’t held responsible to the same degree type as someone who had received an education right from a young age in keeping the laws of the oral rabbinic tradition. The same thing applies here. In western society where many people are brought up under the influence of the  Zeitgeist, according to which the sexual morality of the day doesn’t necessarily honour the Torah’s view, such people, where the cap fits, can also be deserving of the title tinok shenisba.

If I say nothing else but this, dayeinu. When G-d judges people, he does not judge them according to the objective category of the crime. He judges them according to their subjective circumstances.  Now, any heterosexual, myself included, who thinks about their own challenges, knows that he often slips and falls, even when he could have done better. Think about the plight of homosexuals, such as the young man I was speaking to on that night, who was constrained in a homosexual orientation such that he was not able to have any other outlet. How many of us would actually be ready to commit ourselves to a life of celibacy and avoid all transgressions at all times? I think if we look at ourselves honestly in the mirror and if we put our hands on our hearts, we will acknowledge that this would be a very difficult achievement. 

Therefore, understanding the circumstances and the context in which a homosexual finds himself is most important. If G-d judges people according to their circumstances, we too, should do so as well. While that does not mean in any way shape or form that we want to rewrite the halacha, the law, the Torah states explicitly that which it states, nevertheless, it does make a huge difference in the way we approach an individual who is confronted with a special set of challenges, circumstances which are most difficult.

I finally come to the last question I was confronted with that night:

Lamah asah H-shem kacha? Why did G-d make me this way? This question has been so powerful that some rabbis have felt compelled to assume that there must be some magical cure, or way of transforming homosexuals, making them into heterosexuals. Recently, some rabbis issued a Torah Declaration that said that reorientation must be possible for all people because G-d, who is merciful, would not create people to have them locked in an unfulfilling life, lonely and loveless, and that the only way they could get out of this [isolation] would be through a prohibition.

This argument, in my opinion, is theologically flawed, because we find that G-d actually has put lots of people in these circumstances.  We can find many people who, whether by providence or from biology, are in circumstances where the only way to escape misery would be through violating halacha. There are people who, because of physiological, biological, emotional or even halachic conditions, can’t get married, and such people have to live a celibate life. And the only way they are able to find intimacy and physical love would be if they were to violate the halacha.

There have been, in the past, many people who were constrained and unable to have children because of premature ovulation, and the laws of niddah affected their ability to have the blessing of children. That’s an example of people committed to keep the halacha who have even suffering childlessness their whole lives, in order not to transgress the halacha. There are people in around the world who have to give up a lot, to live in destitution, even die of poverty, in order not to break shabbos. The idea that despite the nisyonos that G-d gives people, we can somehow straightjacket G-d and insist, and say G-d would never do that, is not correct and not reflective of reality. Therefore I don’t think that is a statement that can be supported. I don’t accept that as the answer to the theological question [of why did G-d make me like thus].

How then do I deal with the theological question? The answer is very simple. I don’t. I don’t have an answer. The question is an important question but it doesn’t have anything to do with homosexuality or heterosexuality or anything to do with sexuality. It has to do with all of these and many more. It has to do with the general question in theology of why do great people suffer from infertility? Why can’t great people find love and spouses? Why do great people suffer from many tragedies, and great, small, or medium-sized difficulties in their lives? We have no ability to answer that.  Therefore, it’s important to place this question in the right context. It’s not unique to the sexual portion of Leviticus. It is something about the human condition and the way G-d created us.

In my own meetings with homosexuals, I have four goals that I do believe can be achieved, I strive to achieve them and to a large extent, I have achieved them:

1.     Someone who is homosexual should not lose his life from depression, from feelings of impotence, through drugs, through ephemeral relationships and promiscuity.

2.     Someone who is homosexual should not lose their family, through them alienating their parents and siblings, or through their parents or siblings alienating them.

3.      Homosexuals should not lose their rabbis, their communities, their place in their shul, either through their shul alienating them or them alienating their shul, or through identifying themselves completely by their orientation and going off somewhere else.

4.     Homosexuals should not lose their G-d, They shouldn’t feel that just because they have such a tremendous challenge and just because they haven’t always been able to meet the requirements of this challenge according to the Torah, therefore, it’s all or nothing. Strangely, no heterosexuals seem to feel that their failings make them that way [excluded from the frum community]. For some reason, this is a mistake that’s happened; that people feel it’s either all or nothing. We have to somehow make sure that people should recognize that G-d loves all Jewish people, and the Jewish community should make room in their home for every Jew. 

      As I said before, we should do everything in our power so that homosexual Jews should not lose their lives, not lose their families, not lose their communities and not lose their G-d.

 

FRUM GAY MAN: Struggling to integrate two worlds

I’m 21 yrs old. I live in New York. I grew up in an Orthodox community in the midwest and consider myself Orthodox, though I struggle religiously. I work as a makeup artist and I am openly gay.

 Growing up, gay wasn’t a thing, but I went through a lot of bullying in middle school. There was one kid who targeted me and later on, when I made a blog, I wrote about him but didn’t mention his name. He was a bad seed. None of the teachers liked him. He would torture me. He got into my head, psychologically, and he also hurt me physically, and he’d get other kids to hurt me too, or he’d hurt them. The school didn’t do much about it. And then, in 7^th grade, his father became my principal.  That kid used to call me a girl, gay, faggot. He said those things, and I would go home crying every single night. I was worried that he had somehow embedded the idea of being gay in my mind, just through the constant name-calling. That was my first experience with “gay”. I thought being gay wasn’t a real thing. Just a product of the bullying.

 That cruelty made it harder growing up in orthodox community. And I was always told you marry a woman and have kids, and that’s the way it is. When we went through the posukim having to do with gay people in school, it was very casual. They didn’t stop to discuss it. It was black and white, a condemnation. And if it was in the Torah as wrong, surely there couldn’t be real people who were gay. I thought something was psychologically wrong with me. I didn’t know any other gay people either, just Jack and Will from Will and Grace. My first experience seeing two men kissing was weird for me. I’d never seen anything like that in my life and it was strange. I saw a whole different side in Tel Aviv. I got over that weirdness.

In high school, the bullying got worse. I went out of town for yeshiva in 9^th and 10^th grade, but the principal and mashpia guessed I was gay and they decided to make me their project. They caused a lot of emotional damage that still affects me. High school was terrible. It made me feel worse about myself, depressed, self-conscious. For 11^th and 12^th grade, I wanted to go back home, and I ended up in a local yeshiva. I never discussed being gay, but it was something I struggled with. I began to do research online, and found JONAH, and I thought that would be my way out, a fixing, a magic way out. I got in touch with them and I started therapy with them. It was a horrible experience, and the only good thing that came out of it, was that I was able to come out as gay. The only reason I even told my mother I was gay was because I thought they would be able to cure me. I told her, thinking it was all over and I would be straight. They made me believe I could change.

I came out to mother through email. I was so afraid of telling her that I couldn’t even talk to her. She texted me she loves me unconditionally, no matter what. That night, she said she knew it as a fact since I was in kindergarten, that I am gay. I was always different from the time I was little. I came out when I was seventeen and by then, my parents had had time to prepare themselves. They were shocked but still supportive. My mother supported me in going to JONAH. They never forced me to do it, though. And when I realized it was unhealthy and I stopped, they were okay also. They just wanted me to be happy.

I left the yeshiva before my final year, and I was homeschooled. I was able to sort out my life and move on. The yeshiva didn’t kick me out. I just didn’t want to put anyone in an uncomfortable position.

I have two older sisters and one younger brother. My sisters knew I was gay, but maybe my brother didn’t. It wasn’t a surprise to them. I was just confirming it to them. It was a shock but they all handled it really well. When people asked my sister about it, she said, “It would be selfish for me to say that it’s hard for me, since it’s S who is going through this thing.” I have a better relationship with my family than I ever did.

My mother and my siblings thought I was gay because I have stereotypical qualities. I was different. My mother had a good intuition because I was very flamboyant. It made it easier for me later on. If I wasn’t so flamboyant, it would have been harder to come out, harder to get accepted.

I’m not uncomfortable with who I am. It’s who I am. It’s not me shoving it in their face…I am just being me, the way I have always been. I don’t carry a sign, but this is just how I am. It’s nice that I have so much support these days and from my family. I feel lucky to be born in this generation.

My dad and I had an interesting relationship. We are very different. We didn’t connect so much, but ever since I came out, he’s tried really hard to be there for me as a parent. He struggled with not understanding it, but he never had a problem with me actually being gay.

I was always a good kid. So that made it easy. I was good at home and good in school. One good thing is that my parents don’t care about other people’s opinions. All Jews are Jews. They don’t like those labels. They accept all Jews. In my father’s mind, me being gay was our family’s thing, and everyone else’s opinions are irrelevant. He is a big baal tzedoka and he gives to many places, but he stopped giving money to the organizations and rabbis who signed the [homophobic] Torah Declaration. Family first! He has my back, and that improved our relationship.

It’s surprising, but I didn’t have any issues from the community, because everyone kind of guessed already. I left to Israel after 12^th grade, and that also gave everyone in the community time to absorb it. It was shocking because I was so young and my family was so prominent. Everyone offered opinions, but we were already at a very strong point by the time that was happening.

In Israel, I went to Bar Ilan’s American program. The dean knew I was gay, and he seemed cool with it, but he told me to keep it on the down-low. I thought he was just being cool, but actually, he didn’t want anyone to know. Then, when everyone did know, the dean started to have an issue with it. I hadn’t realized that not being out [being on the down-low] was my condition for being in the program. One of the teachers told me that the program was considering kicking me out. I went to the dean and said, “My family and I will be pressing charges of discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation if you continue with your plan to kick me out.  We’ve already spoken to a lawyer.“ I managed to finish out that year there.

There were a few boys in the program who wrote mean things on my door, I spoke with someone in the administration every single day for six months until it was finally taken down. The program wasn’t good about me being gay. At the end of the program I spoke with the dean in front of my father. I said the only reason I am talking about this now is because there will be other boys who come after me who are gay, and may be not as strong as me, and you could cause them to have a serious issue [suicide]. You could have a major problem on your hands if you treat them the way you treated me.

When I returned to my hometown, people weren’t so surprised about me being gay anymore. It was what it was. No one talked about it. Some people were overly friendly towards me who had never spoken to me before. “Oh my gosh! How are you?” They talked to me like I was some kind of cancer patient. I preferred the people who were talking about me behind my back!

One person who helped a lot was Rabbi Litwack, my rabbi in 7^th and 8^th grade. He’s the one who said it’s not so black and white. He doesn’t believe it’s something I can change, and he told me that though I can’t do every single mitzvah, I can still be a good Jew. He told me, if you are in an accident, how can you put on tefillin? A kid who is autistic can’t do a lot of the mitzvos. He told me a lot of supportive things. I go out to dinner with him or out for shalosh seudos. He’s a really big influence and role model for me. He is part of the reason I am still connected.

Certain situations make you realize who your real friends are. The people who really care about me, have stayed my friends. The only person I had a really negative reaction from is also someone I think might be in the closet.

It’s difficult to be out and Jewish. I’m not going to say it’s not. When you are finally out, you make a lot of friends who have been through similar experiences. My mother and father can’t completely relate to my situation. But finding people who can relate is amazing. But still, I am tied to a community that rejects me. That is the experience of many of my friends, too. Your belief system is in a different community, the Jewish community, and that poses a big challenge as a person. I am confident and comfortable as a gay man who is Jewish, but as an orthodox Jew, every day is a struggle. I always told my parents, I want to keep Shabbat because I feel a connection rather than out of habit. Now, it’s on and off for me, because I struggle to reconcile these two worlds. That’s the hardest thing for me. It’s a purgatory. You don’t know where to go because you are in-between two communities and you’d like them to be intertwined, but for me, I just can’t make it happen.

I have friends who claim they are successfully both gay and Jewish, but to me it doesn’t feel fully possible. It’s a big struggle and it’s difficult. There are no official answers, just vague opinions from Rabbis. I don’t believe it’s fully possible to be completely comfortable with both, completely content. I think you can, but the connection is challenging, like water and oil.

It’s interesting, because I took AP psychology, and they say that when you go through something traumatic, it’s hard to remember. It goes in your subconscious. The majority of my life, I was in the closet, and I barely remember a thing about it. Now, I am just out and about. Now, my earlier life feels like I am telling an old story. It feels so far away and sad. It feels like I am a different person now. I used to be miserable and alone and sad and depressed, and I had to pretend I was happy. It makes me sad.

Now, though I struggle with being religious, I am completely happy and feel so good and so deserving to live my life without having to adjust myself to please others. I lived like that for a long time. Im ein ani li, mi li?…”If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”.

I have goals but I don’t plan. Man plans and G-d laughs. I’m so young. I want a relationship because I feel like I am at that point now. Because of my circumstances, I had to grow up real fast. Most people my age are still in the closet.  But I am past that. I want to find someone to be in a relationship with. I want to continue growing my business too. In the beginning it was hard, but now I am busy.

 I don’t know about having kids. I always thought that I wanted kids, and now I am an uncle and I love that. Eventually, I’d like to start a family with someone. I’d like to find someone Jewish, someone who I could relate to and be able to open up to. I’m a very guarded person. I build up walls because of everything I’ve been through. In a relationship, I’d like to be myself and be comfortable and to feel like I don’t have to be defensive.

I want to go to the Eshel shabbaton this year, and I want my friends to go with me. All my friends aren’t sure what they are going to do, but I really love going.

Everybody has their struggles and obstacles in life, even though we can’t see everyone else’s struggles. Something I think is crucial is respect. Just because you might not agree with the way I am, it’s not your business. You don’t need to have an opinion on it. Have respect for me even if you don’t agree with me. I am tznius, and you don’t even know what, if anything I am doing behind closed doors. I am not going to damage your children. I am not recruiting. Please accept me for who I am, not reject me, based on a small part of who I am.

The first few years after she was married, my sister had a hard time having children. Imagine if everyone in shul looked at you, and gave you dirty looks and talked about you because you couldn’t have children. Imagine if that happened to you. That’s what it’s like for me, walking into shul, an immediate bad feeling, based on something I have no control over. Please just find it inside yourselves to be respectful.

ORTHODOX LGBT FAQs

Orthodox LGBT FAQs (courtesy of JQY)

Common Orthodox questions, criticisms, and concerns vs. Supportive Orthodox Rabbinic Responses
Over the years, JQY has spoken at various panels and has had many private conversations with Orthodox Rabbis. We have compiled this fact sheet as a resource to describe the common questions, criticisms, and concerns that our members have heard from friends, family and community members, and that they have struggled with internally. We have paired each question with responses we have received from supportive Orthodox rabbis.

If you have any questions about any items on this fact sheet, or if you would like request a JQY panel where we can discuss these questions in greater depth, pleasecontact us.

Common Questions, Criticisms, and Concerns Supportive Rabbinic Responses Hashem does not give us anything we can not overcome. Doesn't this mean that homosexuality can be overcome? Many challenges in life are not changeable. We do not tell deaf people that they can “overcome” their deafness and hear. We learn to live our best lives with life's realities. Everyone has their nisayon (test) in life, some of which are very difficult, isn't being gay or lesbian just a nisayon for a person to overcome? A person's nisayon (test) is to make the most of their lives and be the best Jew they can be. We don't say the nisayon of a deaf person is to hear the shofar, it is to find his unique relationship to the commandment. A nisayon is intended to bring a person closer to G-d, it is not intended to make a person live in misery. Since homosexuality is called a toevah (abomination), doesn't it mean that it is an ethical evil that goes against Jewish hashkofa (thought) and must never seem normal? We do not know taamei hamitzvot (the reasons for commandments), eating shrimp and wearing shatnez (cloth containing wool and linen) are also called a toevah (abomination), if a person struggles with a sin between him/her and G-d that does not make him/her an evil person. Isn't being “out” worse than merely sinning because the person is advertises the sin publicly, which is itself yehareg va'alyaver (death is preferable to the transgression)? Being “out” actually says nothing about whether one sins, or is public about sinning. Out LGBT Orthodox Jews can still be tzniut (modest), and not discuss specific sexual behaviors publicly. One should not make assumptions about someone else's private life or their sexual behaviors just because the person is 'out'. Straight people don't go around telling people that they are straight, why do gay people feel the need to do so? Just as straight people would correct you if you assumed he or she were gay, gay people do not need to lie or pretend to be heterosexual when they are not. Every wedding, anniversary, and shidduch (arranged marriage) is a proclamation of one's heterosexuality. We do not ask an agunah (a woman who can not remarry due to not receiving a 'get') to say that she is no longer attracted to men, even though acting on this attraction would be a sin. Doesn't pride or celebration of one's sexuality go against the Jewish tradition of tzniut (modesty)? It is important to combat the internalized shame that many LGBT people experience with self-esteem i.e. pride. Furthermore, the strength and bravery it takes to come out, overcome obstacles, and persevere is what is celebrated, not any specific sexual behavior. We actually do not know whether homosexuality is genetic or environmental. Doesn't this mean that a person can and should change? Whether someone is 'born gay' or becomes gay due to environmental factors does not imply that being gay is somehow a choice or changeable. Many things that are caused by the environment are in fact unchangeable. If we are openly affirming or accepting of gays, won't this be encouraging homosexuality and lead those who are on the fence to become gay? Speaking out against homosexuality does not prevent anyone from being gay; it just increases the shame and internal suffering that LGBT people experience in the Orthodox community. Sensitivity and being welcoming is the torah way, and can be life-saving for individuals suffering in silence. We can love the sinner, but we are supposed to hate the sin, so how can we be supportive of gay Jewish organizations and homosexuality? Identifying as gay does not imply anything about whether or not a person is “sinning” by engaging in specific prohibited behaviors. Hating the sin should not mean denying a person the resources that they desperately need. Sexuality may be fluid for some, so shouldn't everyone at least make an attempt in 'reparative therapy' if it helps some individuals? Helping some does not justify hurting others. Many individuals have reported being harmed by these types of therapies, which are often conducted by unlicensed individuals who face no repercussions for irresponsible and potentially damaging interventions. How can we say “it gets better” to a life that halachicaly (from a Jewish legal standpoint) can have no sexual outlet? We don't say to agunot (women who can not remarry due to not receiving a 'get') that “it can never get better”, or that there is no value or place for them in Jewish life just because we can not legitimize any of their romantic behavior. Why should LGBT Orthodox Jews be treated any different from those who desire other sexual sins like adultery? If we are to use adultery as an analogy, it would be similar to the case of an agunah (a woman who can not remarry due to not receiving a 'get'), who through no fault of her own may not have any halachicaly (from a Jewish legal standpoint) permitted sexual behavior or marriage. Isn't homosexuality yehareg v'al yaavor (death is preferable to transgression), putting it in a different category than other sins, similar to murder? If we are to use murder as an analogy, it would be similar to the case of brain death and organ donation, where, although it is technically yehareg v'al yaavor (death is preferable to transgression), where sensitivity, ambiguity, and compassion are all imparted on those making decisions, even when they may be against rabbinic advice. While desire may not be a choice, behavior is always a choice. Shouldn't we therefore judge those who we know engage in sexual behavior as sinners? In cases of Jewish suicide, halachic burial (burial according to Jewish law) is almost never observed because we assume that the behavior is engaged in when a person is in an altered mental state. Individuals who have Aspergers, ADD, or other different issues are often exempt from general orthodox expectations. We can not truly judge a person until we are in their shoes. Shouldn't we avoid legitimizing or celebrating relationships that involve sin? Rabbis often counsel and celebrate couples who may not be following taharat hamishpocha (family purity laws) they still celebrate their relationships, and expect that the community not make any assumptions about possible sinful activity. Kedushin (Jewish marriage) can only be between a man and a woman. How can we ever legitimize marriage between two people of the same sex as halachic marriage (Jewish legal marriage)? Refusing to go to attend a loved one's life events or not permitting someone's partner to attend a simcha (celebratory event) can damage relationships and create alienation and negative feelings toward Judaism. Attendance is a sign of love and support, and can help a person maintain their connection with Orthodoxy. It is not the same as legitimizing. A parent can celebrate a loved one being happy and not being alone without legitimizing the halachic nature (Jewish legal status) of his or her relationship.

HUMBLE BELIEF: THE ORTHODOX TRANSWOMAN

 Good evening D. Can you introduce yourself a little?

D: I grew up modern orthodox in NYC area and I got involved pretty early on in modern orthodox youth groups. At the time I was living on the boy’s side of the mechitza, and I got a better Jewish education than a lot of girls in the more black hat yeshivish circles.

I knew something was different about me. Even in the modern Orthodox Jewish world, conformity is a very very good idea. When it comes to religious doctrine, it’s a lot easier when those in authority don’t have to think too hard about how you fit in. They want everyone to fit in and stay Orthodox.

I was different and one of the pieces of rhetoric that came at me was that certain things don’t happen to good Jews. For example, did you know there are no Jewish homosexuals?

                                Who me?

What was your favourite piece of clothing when you were younger?

D: When I was 8, my best female friend showed me a white dress that she was going to wear for the Jewish holidays and I thought it was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to be treated by my parents the way she was, as feminine. I wanted to be able to express myself the way I wanted to. It was something about being girly. I didn’t know exactly what it was. I was so jealous of my friend. It triggered something. I held back on expressing that, an instinct not to say what I wanted to, because of fear that bad things might happen.

What I owned, though, as a kid right before my bar mitzvah, was a suit with a solid coloured jacket and it had a reversible vest that matched 2 pairs of slacks and that was my first understanding of what separates are, mix and match. I thought, variation is nice! I was not sensitive to colours, but I did notice that girls' clothes had more colours than boys clothes and I liked that.

Who was your favourite frum yid, growing up?

D: My father is in the running, but I’m not sure he was my favourite…

Oh my god, this is a hard question! Hmmm. It’s strange but I can’t think of one. My father is definitely in the top three, though.

He was Ralph Kramden with a yarmulke, a guy who always wanted to be Mr Party, lampshade on the head, almost anything for a laugh, scheming for how to make a buck, and always losing, every single time, because he was not a business man.

What he was really great at was doing everything associated with the shul…he was a wonderful cantor and wonderful baal tefillah, and he could take any group of Jews and liven them up, just in a way of making things fun. People loved him for that, but also, a big part of him wanted to take complaisant Jews and make them a little happier. I admired that in him.

How did your father react to you?

D: My father died before I came out to him. Had he been alive, it would have killed him.

Did your father think there was anything unusual about you?

D: I was a whacky kid. I got bad reports home from school. My father didn’t say anything about it. He was not a macho guy himself. Guys drink beer and watch sports but he was a good Jewish man who worked hard to support his family. I don’t think he noticed much about me, but he definitely wanted me to fit in. He wanted me to lead the prayer services. He grilled me for months before my bar mitzvah, and he wanted me to be perfect. He taught me how to lein and I became good at it and I liked it. I was an extension of him in Yiddishkeit. I was so and so’s kid, a good Jewish kid.

What about the rest of your family?

D: I have one older brother. I haven’t talked to him in 22 years. He was not happy about me. He called me faggot and sissy and he accused me of being in love with my best friend, and I don’t have much of a poker face for that kind of thing. My brother said I should have the telephone surgically attached to my navel because I was on the phone with my friend so much. I don’t think he got the extent to which I loved feminine things.

When I was thirteen, I read a book, Chaim Potok’s My Name is Asher Lev and it blew me away and it continues to blow me away. I understood something about the forbidden things in life. I could never bring anything home. I ruled a lot of things out. I was afraid I would get yelled at by my older brother, especially after my father died. My brother took it upon himself to be my surrogate father, except he was nothing like my father. 

So I collected sports cards. I didn’t know much about the players, but this was an easy thing I could do to fit in. 

I was fourteen when my father died. It was for the best. Because  (sighs), he probably would have seen how I was developing and would have tried to counteract my effeminate behaviour and I don’t know what those measures would have been. 

In 6^th through 8^th grade, I was in a Jewish day school that was very strict, a black hat school, but I played the guitar. All the high school girls wanted to get to know me! I was a faggy kid who was making it with high school girls. The other boys had no idea how I did it. 

In my high school year book, I was remembered for my little black book, the symbol for someone who had a lot of girls' phone numbers. Meanwhile, in truth, I was the faggy kid who liked girl things. I was nowhere near as cute as the modern gay boys are, but still…

What has been your greatest challenge as a frum transperson?

D: Oh my g-d! In 1980, I met someone who was out, frum and gay. I was shocked. He worked in a very gay place. I was astounded. I was frightened AND thrilled. I’d never met anyone like that.

In 1985, I met another frum gay man. I told him that I had a yarmulke in my pocket, and this was old hat to him. He said “You are not alone” and I couldn’t believe it. I started out as a gay boy, and I went to these gay Jewish boys and met the first victims of pray away the gay. They’d been told they should pray and marry and have children and all this nonsense would go away, but all that ended up happening was that they ruined their own lives, the lives of their ex-wives and the lives of the kids. It wasn’t easy and it left scars on the gay men.

In 1987, I walked away from the frum world. I stopped being observant for 22 years. I was afraid that if I came out as a gay boy and was told to pray away the gay, I would end up like those people, I would end up like those men, angry, hating Judaism. And I didn’t hate Judaism.

In 1997, this whirlwind of a person decided to create things for Orthodox trans people because there were none. And she created the Dina List (link) which still exists in what we now call a list serve for Orthodox and Orthodox-friendly trans people. She and I were best friends. There is no stopping her. She’s brilliant. She has a great mind for studying Torah and for analysis and for getting to the heart of Jewish history and law. She found a little known decision from a major rabbi that said that with post operative transsexuals what you see is what you get. The target gender is their gender. Dina List starways.net/beth/tzitz.html

Why did you start being observant again?

In 1997, I kept on saying it can’t be done and I walked away, but there were people who managed to live an Orthodox life. That's inspiring.

My rebbe lived an orthodox life, and there were others too…there was one person who came from a black hat yeshiva and all her friends knew, and it was a scandal, because she transitioned in place where she lived. She had guts! She was a role model and she was smart and articulate and lovely and all these things that I wanted to be, and I started to feel classic Jewish guilt, that these people were managing to be Orthodox and I wasn’t. At the time, I lived in walking distance from two really great shuls. Why didn’t I just go? I made a deal with G-d. It was a one sided deal because G-d never agreed. I said I would start going to shul and that if anyone made a fuss at any shul, I was out and I was not coming back.

If a fuss was made, it was too quiet for me to hear about it. No one told me I couldn’t come or that I should be on the other side of the mechitza. I am still shocked that no one has ever made a fuss. In several cases, I recognized people I knew from before, when I was in yeshiva, and I couldn’t say hello, because that could be a triggering incident. I had decided that I would be modest and not out myself in shul.

What’s your level of observance now?

D: I’m back to where I was as a kid. That’s my comfort level. Only I’m a little bit more enlightened. I see the depth. As an adult, the religion means something deeper to me.

Do you have a partner?
D: I really want someone Jewish, someone orthodox. And that’s a possibility now. There’s a community.

Why do you want to be with an Orthodox queer partner?

D: In a relationship there are things that create life, like shabbos. Without that, the relationship stagnates. I want a relationship in which Judaism can prosper. In which I am not lonely. Feeling lonely in your own home is not a good feeling.

Why don’t you go with a guy and be “straight”?

D: The Jewish community will talk. Most frum guys would be scared of being with a trans woman, and Jewish geography would out us in a minute, even if we moved. Any frum guy who would take me into his community, it would raise eyebrows. I think the Jews would hurt me, they would hurt him.

With a trans woman and a lesbian in the orthodox world, they can just pretend that we are “roommates”. “Roommates” is a way to fly under the radar. You can find some acceptance even if people know. Do volunteer work at your synagogue, they won’t kick you out. Be a good Jew, become part of the community, it becomes much harder to throw you away. A guy, a straight marriage, would be far more problematic. There are plenty of examples of lesbian couples who have managed to stay in their frum communities and stay frum.

Do you think the trans experience is harder than the general gay experience within orthodoxy?

D: The Orthodox community hasn’t gotten past the gay thing yet, but at least we are in queue, they’ve seen glimpses of it with Joy Ladin. The Rabbis still operate on the belief that heterosexuality is the paradigm, therefore if you like men, you must be a woman, or some variant thereof. A trans woman liking another woman is challenging. They can’t get their heads around it.

At the Chabad house in Carlsbad, California, there is a non-gendered space in the shul. The population demanded it. So that's great!

What makes you sad?

D: Not being able to find love.

What are you afraid of?

D: Too many things to come up with an honest response. But here’s one thing: Complete rejection by the Orthodox community. Because then I will go back to having no spiritual life. There is no stepping down. I want my Orthodox spiritual life.

What do you love the most in Orthodoxy?

D: The idea that we have a direct connection to G-d and that He listens even if he doesn’t grant every wish. We still know He hears us and the requests go through.

What gives you the greatest joy?

D: The prospect of being loved, and the ability to make people laugh. Hearing sincere thanks from someone I have helped.

If you could ask anything from the frum community, what would it be?

D: I saw it on a bumper sticker many years ago. It said "G-d protect me from Your followers." It’s the greatest prayer I’ve ever heard. Please stop listening to rabbis who say hateful things. They are dangerous. Call them on their bull sh*t. Don’t let them substitute political concerns for human concerns.