Last year, on the night of his high school graduation, Robert Rosenkrantz shot schoolmate Steve Redman 10 times with an Uzi semi-automatic rifle. What makes a white middle-class teenager into a murderer? In Robert's case, it was a blend of fear, rage, and desperate loneliness. Steve Redman and Robert's brother, Joey, had spied on Robert in an attempt to prove he was gay. When they caught him in a homosexual encounter, they told his parents what they had discovered. Robert testified at his trial that he had hidden his homosexuality for years for fear that he would be rejected by his family and friends. "I was not able to say 'I'm gay' until I was in custody," he admitted.

At Calabasas High School in Woodland Hills, California, where Redman and the Rosenkrantz boys were students, hostility towards homosexuals is pervasive. "This is strictly a straight school," said sophomore Wendy Bell, 16. "If there are gay people at this school, nobody knows about it. If people found out, they would verbally torture you." Assistant Principal Robert Donahue agrees. "I think a kid who is gay is probably in the worst position of any minority." Donahue is worried that Robert Rosenkrantz's violet behavior may reinforce students' hostility towards homosexuals. "To have a young gay man go out and do what he did just confirms their attitudes that homosexuals are crazy as hell," he said.¹

I have been trying to imagine what it must have been like for Robert Rosenkrantz to grow up gay. I know that when I was in high school the most painful way to insult a boy was to call him "queer" or a "fag". This despite the fact that few of us actually knew any lesbians or gay men; 15 years ago homosexuals were far less visible than they are today. Throughout my years in high school, college, and rabbinic school I knew only generalizations and stereotypes. Most of my information came from newspapers, popular magazines, and the conversation of those around me. Thus I learned that gay people were abnormal, perverted, sinful -- or, according to others, sick, pathetic misfits. They dressed oddly. They molested children. They were promiscuous and hedonistic, caring only for their own pleasure; they had rejected marriage, children, and family life. They lived wretched, lonely lives, most of which they spent hanging out in bars and bathhouses, engaging in unspeakably sordid acts. Gay men were "swishy," effeminate wimps; lesbians were angry, unattractive, man-hating "dykes."

That was my education about homosexuals. Why, then, did I find myself in April of 1983 applying to be the first ordained rabbi of Beth Chayim Chadashim (BCC), a synagogue for gay and lesbian Jews? First, I believed that any Jewish congregation was entitled to responsible rabbinic leadership. But more important was the advice of my husband, Shelly, also a rabbi. He had had professional contact with a group of BCC members who conduct monthly Shabbat services at a local nursing home. Shelly told me that the BCC volunteers led a service that was warmer and more spirited than any he had ever seen in a nursing home. There was clearly something special about these men and women who took such pleasure in giving. Being the rabbi of such a group, Shelly thought, would have rewards far beyond the norm. "Go for it," he urged.

And so, eight months pregnant, I went to meet with the rabbinic search committee of BCC -- but not without considerable anxiety. How, I wondered, could I teach Judaism honestly to a group I believed was Jewishly illicit? For Leviticus 18:22 states that a man who lies with another man as with a woman has committed an abomination. Lev.20:13 adds that men performing such acts "shall be put to death -- their blood-guilt is upon them." How could I ask gay men to love a Torah that condemns them to death? Moreover, Judaism emphasizes marriage and family as the primary means of transmitting our heritage; could I still affirm those values while ministering to a congregation whose very existence seemed to subvert them? Finally, I was filled with doubts about my ability to counsel men and women who lived, I thought, so differently from me and everyone I knew. How would I ever understand their problems and help them? In fact, I was rather embarrassed by the concept of public "displays" of homosexuality; the thought of two men embracing or dancing together made me quite uneasy. Worse yet, I fully expected to hear details about my congregants' lives that would make me feel morally queasy. In other words, I wanted them to be honest with me, but I was afraid of what they might say.

Today, after three years of many trials and many more errors, I hardly recognize myself. My beliefs have changed slowly, but in profound ways that affect my entire outlook on life. My thinking has shifted most significantly in three areas: the nature of homosexuality, the role of halakkah in liberal Judaism, and the place of lesbian and gay Jews in our community.

As soon as I was engaged by BCC, I set out to learn whatever I could about homosexuality by reading the works of psychologists, psychiatrists, sociologists, and physicians. I also read the accounts of "insiders," such as Howard Brown's Familiar Faces Hidden Lives: The Story of Homosexual Men in America Today ² and Evelyn Torton Beck's Nice Jewish Girls: A Lesbian Anthology.³ Even these limited forays into the subject of homosexuality showed me that scientific studies were far from conclusive. Some regarded homosexuality as physiologically based, others traced it to environmental factors; some viewed it as "curable," others as predetermined and immutable.

I began to see that the main division in studies of homosexuality is between those who classify it as undesirable "deviant" behavior, regardless of etiology, and those who accept it as natural, legitimate behavior in no way inferior to heterosexuality. I continued to read and learn, but I gradually found myself less interested in what he experts said, paying more attention to my own observations of the several hundred lesbians and gay men I came to know over the next few years.

The more I came to know my congregants, the less I regarded their way of life as unethical, unhealthy, and undesirable. I realized that my initial discomfort with public "displays" of homosexuality arose not from anything inherently bizarre or "unnatural" in that behavior, but simply from my unfamiliarity with it. One who is different provokes suspicion and, sometimes, hostility -- be it a teenager with a pink, punk-style haircut or a traditional Jew clad in shtreiml, beard and peyot. Once I started examining my own prejudices more carefully, I began to see nothing "unnatural" about my congregants' behavior. Rather, I saw differences to which I quickly became accustomed. Soon I was no longer struck by the oddity of two men holding hands or dancing together; I saw, instead, their very "natural" need for affection and companionship.

Similarly, as I came to know my congregants as individuals, I could no longer tolerate generalizations about homosexuality as pathology or sin. Certainly I met some gay people whose lives were wretchedly unhappy. But most of the misery in their lives seemed to be the result of family rejection, social bigotry, or internalized self-hatred -- not of any misery endemic to homosexuality itself. Other gay people I meet act in ways that strike me as sick or immoral. But this is no less true of the straight people I meet, and few would condemn heterosexuality as immoral -- despite the high incidence of rape, incest, child abuse, adultery, family violence, promiscuity, and venereal disease among heterosexuals. The sad, the sick, and the sinful are in a minority in the gay community, as they are in the straight. My congregants are men and women as healthy, loving, and morally responsible as any I have known in my life.

My attitude towards homosexuality, then, has moved from tolerance to full acceptance. I see it now as a sexual orientation offering the same opportunities for love, fulfillment, spiritual growth, and ethical action as heterosexuality. I still do not know what "causes" homosexuality, but I must confess that at this point I do not much care -- any more than I care what "causes" some people to have a special aptitude for music, others for baseball. I simply accept with pleasure the diversity of our species.

My changing perceptions of homosexuality forced me to confront the role that halakkah (Jewish law) plays in my life as a rabbi and liberal Jew. I began an intensive study of what our tradition has to say about homosexuality. Aside from the prohibitions in Leviticus, I learned, biblical references to homosexuality are few, and their exact meaning is not always clear. The story of the destruction of Sodom in Genesis 19 is thought by many to reflect an abhorrence of homosexuality; in my view, it is not a comment on homosexuality per se, but a denunciation of inhospitable behavior to the stranger, as manifested in an act of attempted gang rape. (So the similar narrative in Judges 19). Interestingly, Ezekiel 16:49 calls the sin of Sodom arrogance and callousness towards the poor; there is no reference to homosexual acts. The Bible refers to a kadesh, or male cult prostitute (Deut.23:18), but it is not clear whether the kadesh engaged in homosexual or heterosexual prostitution. Another possible biblical reference to homosexuality is David's lament over the dead Jonathan: "I grieve for you, my brother Jonathan; you were most dear to me. Your love was wonderful to me, surpassing the love of women" (2 Sam.1:26). Some theologians believe this verse indicates that a sexual relationship existed between the two friends. If this is so, it would be the Bible's only favorable presentation of homosexual relations.

Nowhere in the Bible is lesbianism prohibited, or even mentioned. This may be because women are not bound by the commandment to procreate (and thus their offense is less serious), because no act of sexual penetration or "waste of semen" occurs, or because the male authors of the Bible were simply unaware of lesbianism.

Post-biblical references to homosexuality are also relatively few, and are uniformly negative. In the Midrash, for example, homosexuality is called the cause of solar eclipses (Sukkah 29a) and the destruction of the Temple (Tosefta Sotah 6:9, quoted in L. Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews). Another midrashic passage states that Ham's sin, for which his descendants were condemned to slavery (Gen.9:20-27) was homosexual relations with his father, Noah (Sanhedrin 70a). It is also in the Midrash that we find lesbianism prohibited. The prohibition is derived indirectly from Leviticus 18:3: "You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, or of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you. . ." Thus, according to a midrash, refers specifically to sexual practices: "The Egyptians used to marry a man to a man and a woman to a woman" (Lev. Rabbah 23:9).

The halakhic, or legal, portions of the Talmud treat homosexuality as a rare aberration. In the Misnha, for instance, Rabbi Judah rules that two unmarried men may not sleep together under the same cover (Kiddushin 4:14); but the Sages overrule him and permit it, since "Jews are not suspected of homosexuality" (Kiddushin 82a).

This attitude is also reflected in medieval legal materials. The greatest medieval philosopher, Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) wrote: "A Jew is not suspected of homosexuality. Therefore, a Jewish man is allowed to be alone with another Jewish man. But if one takes care not to be alone with a male . . . it is praiseworthy. An adult who commits sodomy, either passively or actively, is to be stoned" (Hilkhot Issurei Biah, 22:2; 1:14). Rabbi Joseph Caro (1488-1575), author of the Shulkhan Arukh, the definitive legal code for traditional Jewry, was even more stringent: "In our century, when there are many lewd men around, one should refrain from being alone with another male" (Shulkhan Arukh, Even HaEzer ch.24). A century later, however, Rabbi Joel Sirkes suspended that prohibition, because "in our lands [i.e., Poland] such lewdness is unheard of" (Bayit Hadash to Tur, Even HaEzer, ch.24). Homosexuality itself is not explicitly prohibited in the Shulkhan Arukh, probably because its author believed that such behavior was virtually nonexistent among Jews.

Why is homosexuality rejected by our tradition? First, it is an act of "spilling the seed" in which procreation is impossible. And procreation is not merely a desirable Jewish goal, but a mitzvah, a binding commandment (Gen.1:28). As the midrash says: "One who does not fulfill the commandment of procreation is like one who sheds blood and diminishes the divine image." Second, homosexual behavior seems to violate the natural order of being as presented in Genesis, in which woman is created to fulfill and complete man: "God said: 'It is not good for man to be alone; I will make a fitting helper for him' . . . Hence a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, so that they become one flesh" (Gen.2:18,24).⁵ Third, in biblical and rabbinic sources homosexuality is associated with idolatrous pagan practices, which Jews are expected to shun. In the ancient world, as we have seen in the Sodom story of Gen.19, homosexual rape was also a way of humiliating and degrading a vulnerable male.

Liberal Jews may analyze these reasons to determine how valid they are for us today. For traditional Jews, however, the reasons for the ban on homosexuality are not ultimately important. What matters is that the Bible forbids it and calls it "an abhorrent thing"; hence no traditional Jew can regard homosexual acts, even between consenting adults, as acceptable Jewish behavior. Writes Rabbi Immanuel Jakobovits: " . . . Jewish law holds that no hedonistic ethic, even if called 'love,' can justify the morality of homosexuality, any more than it can legitimize adultery or incest, however genuinely such acts may be performed out of love and my mutual consent." ⁶ Rabbi Norman Lamm, a contemporary Orthodox authority, states that: "Compassion should be stressed for the man or woman trapped in this dreadful disease . . . the homosexual who genuinely desires to emerge from his situation ought to be helped by all the means at our disposal, whether of medicine or psychotherapy or counseling. But the compassion and help extended by society should in no way diminish the judgment that mishkav zakhar (male homosexuality) is repugnant..." ⁷

Liberal rabbinic opinions on homosexuality vary considerably. Solomon Freehof, a promiment Reform rabbi and legal authority, calls homosexuality "a grave sin". He argues that liberal Jews are not permitted to discard the biblical prohibition of homosexuality, since it is not merely a legal enactment but reveals "a deep-rooted ethical attitude."⁸

Hershel J. Matt, a Conservative rabbi, disagrees. He points out that the biblical prohibition of homosexuality is apparently based on the assumption that homosexuality is a free and conscious choice. ⁹ The homosexual is thus one who willfully rebels against God and the Jewish people. Since, however, recent scientific evidence indicates that "homosexuality is deep seated and not something that one chooses to be or not to be" ¹⁰, Matt suggests that it would be more appropriate to regard the homosexual as one who acts "me-ones" [pronounced OH-ness], out of constraint and lack of freedom.¹¹ Since a frequently invoked principle in Jewish law is that "in cases of ones the Merciful One exempts" (Nedarim 27a), Matt believes homosexuals should not be judged as sinners, and must be treated with compassion, kindness, and friendship. He cautions, however, against regarding homosexuality simply as a valid "alternative life style", for heterosexuality is clearly "the God-intended norm" and homosexuality "a sexual deviance, malfunctioning, or abnormality--usually unavoidable and often irremediable."¹²

My study of Jewish views of homosexuality led me to a disturbing conclusion. While some rabbis urged tolerance and compassion for homosexuals, none regarded homosexuality as a fully acceptable Jewish way of life. And so I had to decide: how much did it matter to me that the voice of my tradition ran counter to the evidence of my experience and the deepest promptings of my conscience?

For me, the choice was clear. I could not be guided by laws which seemed profoundly unjust and immoral. I believe, and I teach my congregants, that Jewish law condemns their way of life. But I teach also that I cannot accept that law as authoritative. It belongs to me, it is part of my history, but it has no binding claim on me. In my view, the Jewish condemnation of homosexuality is the work of human beings -- limited, imperfect, fearful of what is different, and, above all, concerned with ensuring tribal survival. In short, I think our ancestors were wrong about a number of things, and homosexuality is one of them.

I am also a fallible human being, and it may be that my judgments will one day be proven wrong. But for now, I have no choice but to decide for myself which parts of our tradition I hold sacred. In fact, the Jewish values and principles which I regard as eternal, transcendent and divinely ordained do not condemn homosexuality. The Judaism I cherish and affirm teaches love of humanity, respect for the spark of divinity in every person, and the human right to live with dignity. The God I worship endorses loving, responsible and committed human relationships, regardless of the sex of the persons involved. The is no Jewish legal basis for this belief; my personal faith simply tells me that the duty to love my neighbor as myself is a compelling mitzvah, while the duty to kill homosexuals for committing "abominations" most certainly is not.

These are not academic matters; they are life and death issues faced by real human beings. For synagogues across the country are filled with Jews in hiding -- gay men and lesbians who live in perpetual fear of the sidelong glance, the whispers, giggles and sneers that mean someone has discovered their secret. These Jews in hiding are in the pews at Shabbat services, on the bimah preaching sermons and chanting the liturgy, in the classrooms of religious schools and behind the principal's desk. They sing in the choir, serve on the Temple board, carpool their kids to youth group meetings. In other words, wherever Reform Jews gather to pray, study and socialize, you'll find gay men and lesbians among them. How has the Reform movement responded to the presence of homosexuals in our community?

The issue came to the fore in 1973, when Beth Chayim Chadashim applied for membership in the Union of American Hebrew Congregations. Reform rabbis differed sharply over the wisdom of according a gay/lesbian synagogue this official recognition. Wrote Solomon Freehof: "Homosexuality is deemed in Jewish tradition to be a sin . . . Nevertheless, it would be in direct contradiction to Jewish law to keep sinners out of the congregation. To isolate them into a separate congregation and thus increase their mutual availability is certainly wrong."¹³ Dr. Eugene Mihaly, a professor at HUC-JIR in Cincinnati, agreed: "The synagogue should help in integrating the individual in the religious life of the community, not be a vehicle for isolating him."¹⁴ Others, however, saw a clear need for a congregation serving homosexuals. Wrote Rabbi Sanford Ragins: "In principle, such a synagogue should not exist, because all synagogues should be so open that all Jews may feel fully welcome and at home in them. But clearly, that is not the way our world or our family-oriented congregations are constituted today. Until the temples we already have are able to accept Jewish homosexuals in their homosexuality . . . homosexuals who want they own congregations should not only be allowed to have them, but encouraged and assisted, and accorded full membership in the Union of American Hebrew Congregations.¹⁵

A committee of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (the Reform rabbinic organization) set up to study the issue recommended that Beth Chayim Chadashim not be admitted to the UAHC. Nevertheless, after occasionally stormy debate, the UAHC delegates voted to admit the congregation -- and Reform Judaism became the first (and only) national religious movement to accept a gay/lesbian congregation.

Today, 14 years after BCC was founded, is there still a need for separate gay/lesbian synagogues? According to Rabbi Jerald Brown: "Most congregations simply cannot countenance any open expression of homosexual affection, such as dancing or hand-holding. We haven't gotten that far yet -- perhaps some day we will. And until we do, gay congregations are certainly in order."¹⁶

In 1977, the UAHC passed a resolution supporting the "human rights of homosexuals." The resolution stated that "private sexual acts between consenting adults are not the province of government and law enforcing agencies" (many states have "sodomy laws" making certain sex acts illegal); it called for an end to discrimination against homosexuals in housing and employment, and urged that Reform synagogues educate their children and adults about "the relation of Jewish values to the range of human sexuality." In the same year the CCAR adopted a similar resolution supporting civil rights for homosexuals.

There have been some steps, however, that the Reform movement has been reluctant to take. For example, in our society homosexual couples are not permitted to marry. In 1973, Rabbi Solomon Freehof wrote: "It is hardly worth mentioning that to officiate at a so-called 'marriage' of two homosexuals and to describe their mode of life as 'kuddushin' (i.e., sacred) is a contravention of all that is respected in Jewish life."¹⁷ Once I might have agreed with Rabbi Freehof. But now I think of the many gay and lesbian couples I know -- and I am certain that their lives together exemplify the qualities of kiddushin: love, faithfulness, ultimate commitment, a desire to establish a Jewish home. Such a relationship is, to my mind, no less holy than a heterosexual marriage. And so my congregation offers couples an "Affirmation" service structured along the lines of a traditional Jewish wedding. We also call couples up to the bimah for a special blessing over the Torah on their anniversaries. Several Reform rabbis I questioned said they would be willing to officiate at a "commitment service" for same-sex couples, but added that their congregants would probably be greatly disturbed by any public anniversary blessing of homosexual couples.

Just as liberal Judaism has thus far shied away from according homosexual couples any public acknowledgment or approbation, so also have we been unwilling to allow openly gay and lesbian Jews to assume positions of leadership in our community. The Reconstructionist Rabbinical College is the only seminary whose faculty has voted (in 1984) that openly gay men and lesbians may be admitted as rabbinic students. HUC-JIR (our Reform seminary) has, according to Rabbi Gary Zola, National DIrector of Admissions, "no official policy" on this issue. "Members of the rabbinic admission committees simply vote their conscience . . . There are many faculty members who are strongly in favor of gay rights, and others who are bitterly opposed. My personal feeling," said Rabbi Zola, "is that sexual orientation should be irrelevant. I want to look at a candidate for the rabbinate as a teacher, as a scholar, as a human being. I don't think sexual orientation should be a factor in admission." He admits that the College has graduated several homosexual rabbis, cantors and educators -- most of whom live "in the closet" today.

Many Reform Jews are unsure about according homosexuals positions of leadership in our community. Tolerating homosexuals is one thing -- but must they also be held up as role models to be admired and emulated? "I'm very conflicted about this," confided one highly-placed rabbi who wished to remain anonymous.

In 1981 the following question was submitted to the Responsa Committee of the CCAR: "Should our congregation engage a known homosexual as a religious school teacher in the high school department? What should our attitude be toward engaging a known homosexual as Executive Secretary? Both of these individuals are quite open about their homosexuality^.18 The committee responded that Jewish community leaders have always been expected to display "the highest personal and moral qualities"; their behavior must be "above reproach." Hence they concluded that "Overt heterosexual behavior or overt homosexual behavior which is considered objectionable by the community disqualifies the person involved from leadership positions in the Jewish community. We reject this type of individual as a role model within the Jewish community. We cannot recommend such an individual as a role model nor should he/she be placed in a position of leadership or guidance for children of any age."¹⁹

The committee's response seems to assume that homosexuals in leadership positions who do not hide their sexual orientation will have a dangerous, unwholesome influence on impressionable young people. Dr. Jack Weinberg, president of the American Psychiatric Association, has stated that family fears of "catching" homosexuality, or of being "recruited" at school or elsewhere are "utterly without scientific foundation."²⁰ Ultimately, I think, the fear of seeing openly gay people in leadership positions rests on a belief that homosexuality is a shameful, abhorrent disease that will infect our children. If there is nothing wrong with being gay, why then should gay people hide their identities -- any more than I hide my wedding ring and other public symbols of my heterosexuality?

Good Jewish leaders are always in short supply. It is foolish and destructive for us to reject persons who are ready, willing, and eminently able to serve our people. I can offer no "proof" that a lesbian or gay man can be a mentsch -- a Jewish model thoroughly worthy of emulation -- except that I have so many who are.

My three years with BCC have left me at times bewildered and frustrated. I have tried to understand why liberal Jews who say they are devoted to justice and equality balk at granting justice and equality to gay and lesbian Jews. I have tried to understand why they cling so tenaciously to denigrating stereotypes about the "homosexual lifestyle" and its alleged threats to the purity of Jewish life. I don't understand why homophobia is the last socially acceptable form of bigotry in our country -- even among Jews, who should know better. I don't know why Robert Rosenkrantz and a thousand other kids like him should have to grow up feeling desperately alone and scared to death to be themselves.

But above and beyond my moments of frustration, I feel deeply blessed to have spent the last three of my life working with this congregation. Apart from the intrinsic joys of working with an active, questing and spirited group, I feel grateful for the education I've been given -- a chance to see with my own eyes and make up my own mind, rather than swallowing the judgments and slogans of others. I'm grateful also that my daughters are spending the crucial years of their early childhood in the presence of hundreds of loving gay "uncles" and lesbian "aunts." They, thank God, will grow up without the ugly myths and stereotypes that afflicted me. Perhaps that is the greatest gift my congregants have given me.

Notes

¹ Los Angeles Times, June 15, 1986.

² Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1976.

³ Persephone Press, 1982.

⁴ Minors under 13 years old are exempt from this as from any other penalty.

⁵ It is worth noting that in Gen.3:16 God also tells Eve, "Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you."

⁶ Encyclopedia Judaica, vol.8, pp. 961-962.

⁷ "The New Dispensation on Homosexuality: A Jewish Reaction to a Developing Christian Attitude," Jewish Life, Jan-Feb 1968.

⁸ Responsum, 1973. In American Reform Responsa: Jewish Questions, Rabbinic Answers. Collected Responsa of the Central Conference of American Rabbis 1889-1983 (Central Conference of American Rabbis, 1983), pp.49-52.

⁹ "The clear and consistent assumption behind all of the Torah's commands and prohibitions is . . . that human beings have the freedom to obey or disobey them."

¹⁰ Dr. Alan P. Bell, senior author of the two-volume study, Sexual Preference, Bell, Weinberg and Hammersmith (Indiana University Press, 1981).

¹¹ Other examples of ones, constraint, include: threat of torture or death, forgetfulness, drunkenness, insanity, extreme financial duress, illness, and other factors beyond one's control.

¹² "Sin, Crime, Sickness or Alternative Life Style?: A Jewish Approach to Homosexuality", Judaism 27/1 (1976):13-24.

¹³ Freehof, op.cit.p.51

¹⁴Mihaly, unpublished responsum, 1973. p.10.

¹⁵ "An Echo of the Pleas of Our Fathers," CCAR Journal, Summer 1973, p.46.

¹⁶ Personal conversation

¹⁷ Freehof, op.cit., pp.51-52.

¹⁸ Op.cit., Collected Responsa, p.52

¹⁹ Ibid., p.54

²⁰ Statement, October 6, 1977.