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June 24, 2023
Author(s):
Parashat Korach
June 24, 2023 —5 Tammuz 5783
Judaism and Queerness: A Whole Greater Than the Sum of the Parts
By Sam Gardenswartz
Temple Emanuel, Newton, MA
Shabbat shalom. As we say in Brooklyn on Pride Shabbat, chag sameach. I’m so jazzed to be back home as Temple Emanuel’s gay-in-residence this Shabbat.
Growing up at Emanuel, Schechter, and Ramah, I was frequently asked the same question: am I a Jewish American or an American Jew. Twenty years later, I can safely say…its a really odd question for a 5th grader.
The real problem with the question is that it presumes my Jewish identity and my American identity are separate. But really, they build on each other and amplify each other. Core to my Jewish identity is a belief in egalitarianism, which is only really possible in America with its multiple mainstream movements of progressive Judaism. Core to my experience of being American is the balance of the privileges of being a cis white man with the marginalization of being a religious minority. My experience of being Jewish and my experience of being American are both inextricable from the unique experience of being Jewish in America.
When I came out a decade ago, I realized that my Judaism is also really related to my queer identity. We often talk about Judaism and Queerness as opposites, and how Jewish communities are not inclusive of Queer Jews. There’s a lot of truth in this, especially in how our shul can be more inclusive of trans Jews and queer Jews of color. But stopping the conversation here is like asking a 5th grader if they are a Jewish American or an American Jew. It doesn’t allow us to embrace the beautiful ways these identities can create a whole greater than the sum of the parts.
This morning, I want to share my personal story of how my Judaism and my queerness build on each other to create…me. My goal is to show how deeply intertwined Judaism and Queerness can be for those of us double lucky to be queer Jews. In the process, I hope to help give you a framework to harness your Judaism to deepen your pride or strengthen your allyship for the queer community.
First, I want to share an example of how my Judaism deepened my queer identity. I first thought I might be gay the summer after my Junior year in college. It took me another 3 years to come out. During those 3 years I continued to strive towards straightness from consciously straightening my wrist while I climbed stairs to going on many, many first dates with women (much to my surprise, there were very, very few second dates). In my head I increasingly knew I was gay, but in my heart I couldn’t get there.
My feelings began to shift when my friend gave me a biography of Harvey Milk for my birthday. Reading the book, I remembered this incredible thing we used to do growing up: text study. Jews love text study. My dad loves text study. When we dive into a rich tradition of texts, we encounter our history and get comfortable with uncomfortable ideas. I finished the biography of Harvey Milk and went on a multi-year queer reading spree. I kept reading and learned that our modern conception of Jewish identities and Gay identities were both created in 19th century Germany by German nationalists working to define an other against which they could define German identity. I kept reading and learned that Gilbert Baker, the creator of the Pride flag, chose the rainbow after Harvey Milk’s murder as reference to Noah’s ark symbolizing hope after tragedy. I kept reading and learned about the important contributions of many Jewish activists from Larry Kramer to Edith Windsor. As I read, I was able to place myself in an intergenerational queer community. I slowly gained the comfort and confidence to come out.
Second, I want to share an example of how my queerness has helped me deepen my Judaism. When I first moved to New York after college, I struggled to find a Jewish community. Part of this is that I was spoiled because, as we all know, there is no place like Temple Emanuel. At least from a cantorial perspective. After I came out, I found queer Jewish communities in New York that I love. I found minyans in Brooklyn where it seems like the majority of people are queer. I prayed at Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, a queer synagogue in Chelsea that does Hallel for Pride Shabbat, and whose motto is even ma’asu habonim hayta l’rosh pina – the stone spurned by the builders has become the cornerstone. I marched with hundreds of Jews at the Stonewall 50th Anniversary Pride March and stood silently as a Rabbi blew the shofar before we started marching, summoning the gravitas of Elul for a moment of equal awe. My queerness enabled me to find that Jewish community I had been looking for in the City.
Third, I want to share something I think the queer community can learn from Jewish history. The Jewish community and the queer community both face discrimination. We are currently seeing a terrifying rise in state sanctioned anti-queer hatred. Increasing numbers of legislators pass bathroom use restrictions, don’t say gay laws, medical care restrictions, and ordinances banning drag performances. The trans community in particular is under attack. In the first 6 months of 2023 we have seen 82 anti-trans bills passed in 22 states. This bigotry has a real impact: The trans community experiences violence at a rate 4X higher than the non-trans community. Queer people in general have higher rates of anxiety, depression, and suicide from the closet that last longer in life.
What can the Jewish community, with its long history fighting anti-semitism, share with the Queer community? 120 years ago, in 1893, Achad Ha’am reflected on the blood libel. What does it mean when the whole world believes something patently absurd like the blood libel? His response was that it taught Jews to resist internalizing the world’s negative portrayal of themselves. He wrote, “Knowing that the whole world hates the Jews, can we still say that the world is wrong and the Jews are right? Certainly we can, and blood libels prove it.” The Jewish community has learned to have a strong sense of self. We do not let our haters define us.
The queer community is experiencing a modern day blood libel. Political candidates are painting dangerous boogiemen of the trans community as groomers, pedophiles, and rapists. Let us be clear: there is as much truth in these accusations as there is truth that you ate Christian baby blood in your matzah last April. But these conspiracy theories are given primetime and are being turned into law. What would it mean for the Queer community to embrace Ahad Ha’am’s lesson? What would it mean for the Queer community to know that powerful people in the country can say lies about you, but that doesn’t make them true. We must fight the policies and stop the violence. And, we must continue to believe that our community is worth more than the legislators say we are.
Just like we as a Jewish community can’t fight anti-semitism on our own, we as a queer community can’t fight anti-queer legislation on our own. I shared three examples of how my Judaism gives me tools to deepen my queerness. This Pride, I encourage you to think about how your Judaism can deepen your allyship to the queer community (or take pride in your queerness if you are also lucky enough to be queer). Temple Emanuel has seven gates, and each one be an entrypoint. Do you enter through the gate of Social Action? Consider joining a phone bank to stop a piece of anti-trans legislation. Do you resonate with the gate of learning? Pick up a memoirs by a queer author like Elliot Paige, Janet Mock, or Abby Stein to learn more about their experience. Do you prefer community? Plan a program at Emanuel that centers trans Jews and queer Jews of color.
I especially encourage you to focus your allyship on supporting the trans community. We have seen incredible advances in rights for gays like me. It is great that I can now get married. My mom in particular is very excited. However, we still live in a time of great legal and physical danger for many trans members of our community. We as a larger LGBTQ+ community and Jewish community need to focus our efforts on their political rights and physical safety. Pride is not about love is love. Pride is about keeping queer people alive. My Judaism has helped me deepen my Pride. This Pride month, how can your Judaism help you deepen your queerness or your allyship?
Shabbat shalom and chag sameach.