torahqueer

A Queer Jewish Perspective on Torah, Culture, and Life

Shabbat Shalom

Two Words mean the world to me this week.

Shabbat– the 7th day on which Jews rest, emulating G-d who also rested, and commemorating our liberation from bondage.

Shalom– wholeness, peace, completion.

Combined they create a statement of intention, of hope for another and the world.

Shabbat Shalom is more than a greeting, it is a state of mind and purpose; without which I might go entirely insane.

I am not an observant Jew (at least not in the traditional sense), but after a return to full-time employment I am now, this week, very grateful for Shabbat and for perhaps more aware of the ways by which my life may be made fuller but a recognition of the cessation of work.

So, Shabbat Shalom! both a wish for you and a wish for me. May we all enjoy liberty from work obligations and the company of family and friends whose presence adorns our weekly holiday.

Shabbat !

Shalom !

HaMakom

The G-d Name “HaMakom” is used in the traditional Jewish expression of sympathy to one who has lost a loved one.

 המקום ינחם אתכם בתוך שאר אבלי ציון וירושלים

HaMakom yenachem etchem betoch sh’ar aveilei Tziyon V’Yerushalayim

HaMakom  will comfort you among the mourners of Zion & Jerusalem

 

This Article appears in the September 2011 edition of “The Community Letter,” Louisville’s regional LBGT printed news outlet. I find it fitting that this article was published days after my Mother’s death. She was 51 years old. My selfish hope is that I may truly be comforted by HaMakom– that the achy hole my Mother’s absence owns will be puttied by the Comforter of Israel.

The Community Letter may be accessed online at     http://www.theletteronline.com

 

HaMakom – The God of This Place

And I came upon the place, and stayed there… I lay down in that place to sleep… And I dreamt a dream… a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven; and there were angels of G-d going up and going down…I  awakened out of sleep,  saying: ‘Surely The Eternal is in this place; and I did not know it…How full of awe is this place! this is none other than the house of G-d, and this is the gate of heaven.’

(Adapted from translation of Genesis 28, Jewish Publication Society)

In the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) God has many names. One of the names that I find fascinating is the name HaMakom which literally means “The Place.” This special name comes to us out of a famous story about Jacob as he encounters God in a vision.

Jacob has stumbled upon a place he does not know. Jacob is tired, as he has been running from his personal failings. The sun is setting. Jacob is exhausted; he sleeps, he has a dream, and he awakens a changed person. What he encounters, the biblical narrator reports, is God. He becomes transformed by an awareness that God was there, right where he wandered- where he placed his head to sleep.

Perhaps none of us have had visions of heavenly bodies moving up and down a celestial staircase. But, like Jacob, I am sure that many of us have lived through feelings of disappointment, frustrating situations, and family difficulties. Jacob is unaware of the drama and splendor that is about to unfold as he lies down to sleep; he simply expects to continue his journey at dawn.

Religious teachers, preachers, and rabbis often focus on the significance of the dream Jacob has in That Place– I can’t say that I blame them. The vision is a spectacular one, but I fear it is not really the most important portion of the story.

I think the narrator is trying to teach us something about ourselves and about God. It is as if that narrator invites us to a place, of unspecified geography, and says, God is here.

Sometimes we live lives devoid of any expectation of splendor. We expect nothing more than to continue our daily chores, pay our bills, and plan the next day. Tomorrow we begin again, meeting that day’s needs—maybe working towards a goal– looking forward to that special vacation. We continue the daily grind; forgetting there is more to the journey. But there is more– this story invites us to an awareness of the sacredness in our lives. It speaks to us of in familiar and reassuring terms affirming the lesson’s truth- God is in this place.

Lately I feel like I need this message; perhaps you feel similarly. We may be in a desert of isolation; cut off from our family. We may be overwhelmed by schoolwork, or office politics. Perhaps even, we are facing personal demons and struggling to chart a new course for our lives. Whatever we face, we may learn from this ancient story something of who God is and what the Sacred Reality can mean for us.

This special name of God– HaMakom- The Place is both a concrete and elusive name; it is flexible but also rigid. This name is a physical and emotional presence; and that presence is our own.

God is The Place where you mourn your loved one’s death;

God is The Place where you came out of the closet to yourself, family, and friends;

God is The Place where you restored a broken trust;

and God is That Place where you greeted a stranger with a smile.

I hope that the crowded and exhausting highways of life are eased by rest-stops of HaMakom; that within us and around us we are able to encounter Sacredness- and that this encounter changes us.


Reaching Again… Wisdom and Vulnerability

let me taste your apple (or pomegranate, coconut, or whatever)!

” ‘… You will not die, but El knows that as soon as you eat of it, your eyes will be opened and you will be like divine beings who know’…the woman saw that the tree was good for food and a delight to the eyes… a source of wisdom…” Genesis 3

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it’s left me blind

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became

I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart –  Florence and the Machine

When I was 10 years old my family took an epic trip through the Great Smokey Mountains of western North Carolina. My family loved to camp. My mother particularly loved camping and all of the culinary challenges it provided. That year my parents chose a lovely (soaking wet)  mountain-side called Cataloochee. Even now, if you ask any one of my siblings about that summer, I am sure they will reference this favorite spot of my mother’s as “Rain-a-loo-chee.”  As an adult I am sure I would find it most beautiful, and who knows, our time spent there could have been during a fluke of constant rain. If my mother were able to speak now, I am sure she would reaffirm her love for that chilly wet August vacation spot. She would ardently defend Cataloochee as the most beautiful place. Sadly, I have not been back since that trip. My mother has not returned either.

I have been thinking a lot about my mother today. She lies motionless on a bed in North Carolina, in the ICU of Duke University Hospital. We have only  recently mended the broken bridge we endured during a five-year-long deafening silence. My mother and I have had a complicated relationship. Harsh words, demons seldom tamed, and a mutual lust for the depth of life have weathered our relationship.

I have also been thinking today about the mythical mother of humanity- Eve. She is demonized, often, because of her willingness to risk life for  access to knowledge. She is dismissed and , all women with her, as foolish. This dismissal still informs some traditional religious communities that argue women cannot teach or preach.  Her actions have been blamed for the reason all of us endure our present state- vulnerability. I suggest our present state is vulnerability, because I cannot imagine another more appropriate description. Our knowledge of the evils and goods of life ultimately make us vulnerable.

My mother has taught me more than anyone has or could. Her life is a lesson to me; those days she lived tortured by the pull of death, tortured by the allure of riding atop of a creative fountain only to ultimately fall into its deep dark well when it dissipated. She had no curriculum, none but a lightly drawn star-chart she was constantly revising. The classroom where I learned was at her side in the kitchen, the local pub, the sports car she idolized, and the record player- where she taught me to hear and love the sirens.

She reached, and taught me to reach. She made a cornucopia of mistakes sometimes standing again after falling, others lying for a while on the ground. She is a vulnerable soul, longing for affirmation and seeking out an experience of love.  In the end, I think she would say she is happy to have reached; perhaps because of the pain she endured- perhaps because of what she learned about herself and G-d.

I don’t always believe in G-d; today I would like to try. I imagine that the serpent of Genesis 3 was correct, Eve and her descendants would ultimately become like divine beings who “know.” I imagine, that G-d, whose story with us is told in ancient text, is ultimately vulnerable– that G-d faces mistakes, and returns to tattered star-charts. I envison a G-d just as plagued by pain as my mother, but grateful for having this encounter with us.

To see G-d in this way is a great comfort; at least this evening it is. I have a sense of calm about the good care into which my mother is traveling, and I am relieved to know that G-d knows… and is vulnerible too.

I can never really be among the chorus of Eve-haters. I cannot blame Eve for our present state. I can only thank her for it. Our state is beautiful; vulneribility gives us a lense into G-d. What we know enables us to empathize with G-d.  Though it be not “politically correct” or religiously advised, I think, were I the mythical Eve, and had yet another chance (with all that I know of vulnerability) at choosing in that lush garden, I would choose to reach for wisdom; again.

Thank you Eve, Thank you mom.

Torah Queer, Queer Torah

This should have been my first post. The paragraphs below are the foundation of my identity as both a Queer person and a Jew.  It is my intellectual frame-work for the journey that envelopes me. 

Why Queer: I know that  the term queer turns many people off. But, for me, and others, it provides a broad inclusive umbrella under which all sexual/gender misfits can find a shelter from the stormy tendencies our culture has to work within a binary of gender and gender roles.

Who is Queer: As a graduate student I argued that Queer people are those whose sexual orientation, gender identity, or any other means of being, is a transgression of the inherited patriarchal laws that govern our interactions and evaluate our worth; Queer people are those who are strange, and set apart because body, mind, and soul cannot find enough room in the House of Patriarchy to live authentically.

Patriarchy literally means “beginnings in the father.” This social, intellectual, and political reality is a tricky one. Its purpose and power is to build a pyramid in which the “standard form” is the pinnacle; all else are sub-standard, and thus experience challenges to their humanity – humanness. In our culture, the standard setter is (at least for now) Anglo-European Heterosexual maleness. This does not mean that white, heterosexual men are evil– rather it simply means that men– in our particular context white men– benefit from a social order that assumes their lives and experience to be normative for all human beings. And While, one could argue that “other” groups have made significant advancements in our society, perhaps challenging my assertion, I would argue that maleness and whiteness and definitely Heterosexuality reign supreme in identifying “normal” experience and ultimately “humanness.” This assertion is not meant to demonize individuals or groups– it is rather, meant to draw our collective attention to the system that ultimately enslaves us all–that challenge our worth as human beings, based on an unattainable standard of masculinity.

Playing “operation” as a child, I wondered why there was only always a man’s body; my mother told me “The man’s body is the basic body women have a lot of extra’s like a womb and breast…”   I always assumed this to be true, at least as I operated with this assumption in my teens and even into my first year of college. It was not an assumption that I felt informed my interactions with or feelings towards women. But I later realized that operating with this assumption actually did inform my interactions, beliefs, and feelings towards women. I was not a woman-hater, but I had not yet realized that I was privileged simply for having been born male (of course my worth is challenged because I am gay, and consequently unable to live in the House of Patriarchy).

Did you know…that women’s bodies are ACTUALLY the norm? In the womb, we all begin as women. In fact there are, for men, ghosts of this reality  that manifest in physical “scars” on the genitalia. There is a long seam where once lived a Vagina. True Story!

If we assume, as I have argued, that White-Heterosexual-Maleness is normative or more specifically the standard by which all human forms are evaluated, then we can assume, as I do, that there are LOTS of queer forms. Of particular interested to me, is Sexual queerness. It is a queerness of sexuality that I mean to identify when I refer to Queer people, even though, intellectually, I have a much broader working definition of queerness.

The Torah and Me: When we (people of faith, Jewish or Christian) encounter our sacred texts, we bring with us our experience. It is of the utmost importance for us to be aware of this; we cannot avoid it. But, I think, while being mindful of the lenses through which we read, we should also be careful to read the text critically, and to seek from it an original meaning for those for whom the text was initially intend. While it is true that we cannot avoid our context, it is also true that we should not superimpose our context onto the passage of scripture.

When I encounter Torah or other sacred texts, my encounter is as a Queer person. Actually I encounter the text with various experiences, identities, and values; cultural, religious, geographical and political. Every fiber of my being influences my reading, and encourages my curiosity.

Queer eye for the… Torah : There are three major stories in Genesis that appear close together, and as I read it, give us an insight into what it meant and means to be Jewish; and what values we attribute to G-d.

Chapter 10 of Genesis completes the Noah story cycle.  G-d, who destroyed the earth, commanded Noah and his sons to multiply and fill the earth, and apparently they were happy to oblige G-d. At the end of Chapter 10, the descendants of Noah have multiplied and live in various regions with various languages.

Something unknown to us, and the biblical story-teller, happens to the world. Perhaps we can speculate as to its placement in the Torah, and thus the motives the Editors might have had, but ultimately what we learn is largely (unsatisfactorily so) left to our imagination. In chapter 11 the story of a tower is told: The Tower of Babel. Some how, everyone now had only one language– and a common project; whatever diversity G-d intended for humanity, was undone.

Surprisingly short, this story is only 9 verses long, yet it is one of the better known story of the Torah. The story ends with G-d re-establishing a multitude of languages and scattering humanity over the face of the earth.

The completion of the story of Babel sets the stage for a new way that G-d will do business with humanity. After Babel, the reader is drawn into another story– not just a general story of humanity and earth (after all up to chapter 11, the text is about humanity; a specific Jewish identity has yet to surface).

As Chapter 11 of Genesis concludes, a new story begins. Abram, whose ancestry is described after the story of Babel, will become a new hero, and an important link to the rest of the Torah.

In chapter 12, Abram encounters G-d. Abram is commanded to leave his father’s house and begin a new journey: Abram will father a great nation. Eventually Abram becomes Abraham, and he and Sarai (who becomes Sarah), parent a people who will become known as Jews.

It is curious to me that G-d did not tell Abraham that he would establish monotheism, or cultivate a religious practice; the rubric of religion and cultic ritual does not appear until after the Exodus. Furthermore I cannot ignore the placement of Abraham and Sarah’s introduction to the stage of Genesis. It seems to me, that reading the text carefully, that G-d has decided that G-d will preserve diversity by creating a new people; that G-d’s intentions for humanity have been un-done again and again, and that finally G-d seeks to preserve difference by setting apart a nation.

A Righteous and Queer Nation: Queer means strange or different = other. The definition of the project G-d is endeavoring to begin with Abram and Sarai is queer. G-d seeks to establish a strange people, who will be set apart from all other nations.

This is what is means to be a Jew and a Queer Jew for me: I am the bearer of a great mantel of particular strangeness. I am not, as a Jew, a member of the broader religious culture. I am not, because of my sexual orientation and embodiment, a resident of the house in which I was born; Patriarchy. The mantel I bear is anti-assimilationist, rich in culture and heavy burden because of history’s cruelty to different people. Had I lived more than 60 years ago, I would have been a doubly targeted by the Nazis, for being both gay and Jewish. It is a heavy, beautiful mantel, and it is one I must carry for myself, my people and for G-d.

G-d says to the Jewish people in Parsha Kedoshim “You shall be Holy for I, HaShem, am Holy…” (Leviticus 19).  One does not have to do too much with the definition of Holiness (set apart, strange, unique) to find that the work queer might be used as a synonym. And so it is, for me at least, that G-d sought to establish a people, set apart, to be a testimony to G-d’s intentions for creation. G-d sought to establish a nation; a righteous and Queer nation.

Our Nurturer, Our Sovereign renew us…

“Avinu Malkeinu, our Nurturer and our Sovereign; have compassion upon us and upon our children… inscribe us in the Book of Life…make us new, renew us for a New Year…”*

The Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) are more than a month away, but I am eager to put the year 5771 behind me, and begin a new year with –  G-d willing-   a clean slate.

Perhaps my present eagerness for the New Year may be attributed to a conversation I recently had with my sister who is distraught about our mother’s declining health. Perhaps I am enduring a dull pain caused by the recent suicide of a friend. And, maybe I am not so far off, as the Rosh Chodesh (beginning of a new month) of Elul, the Jewish month of reflection, is only days away. Ultimately though,  I fear I may be in the shadow of my own personal failings. I am seriously disappointed because my unkind words have torn down the ones I love, I have failed to meet my potential, and I remain complacent about the bitterness in my heart.

I am ready for the New Year.

Unlike the secular New Year (presumably a party-time ) the Jewish New Year- Rosh HaShanah is a time of reflection and repentance. Rosh HaShanah begins a period of 10 days- the Days of Awe- in which (at least traditionally) G-d is weighing the merits of our lives; G-d is determining whether or not we will be written in for life in the cosmic Book of Life. As G-d weighs our righteous deeds and our personal failings, G-d extends us mercy towards us for those transgressions of G-d’s law we have committed. G-d cannot however, forgive us for transgressions of the Divine Image which Jews believe to be implanted in each human being. Instead of being forgiven by G-d for the harm we have done to one another, we must seek forgiveness from those we have wronged.

It is a terrible thing to face those we hurt– it really sucks. In fact it “sucks” so much that I fear most often that the practice of seeking to rebuild charred bridges fails to get popular traction in our spiritual lives. Illustrating my fear, the High Holy Day siddur contains a prayer in which the congregation “forgives” those whom they (I) have wronged and who have wronged (me) them. We have created liturgical loop holes to enable us avoid the discomfort of “owning” our actions; allowing us to avoid the unqualified apology and consequently a promised determination for a new path. But, sadly, I think that loop-holing our way through the Holiest Days in the Jewish calendar robs us of the most rich cultural and religious traditions we possess.  Judaism provides us a unique opportunity. Our values and our religious precepts invite in to engage in our own redemption; to redeem (buy back) our words and works that have tarnished the Image of G-d in ourselves and in others.

At the end of Shabbat before Rosh HaShanah, there is a tradition to gather in the Shul (synagogue) as a community to begin the healing dialogue with G-d and with neighbor. There is a tradition to stand face to face with the reality that we have some failures, and to confront- in this holy place- the wounds (minor and major) we have inflicted. Selichot, as this special service is called, comes from the word Selichah- which means “sorry.”   Selichot invites us to mend the brokenness in our lives, to rise up from the ashes of scornful words, to carve out a new approach from the driftwood-dreams scattered along the shorelines of the passing year. We Jews, inheritors of the eternal flame of goodness, are offered the opportunity to return to this flame and to draw from it the light and warmth we need for our life-long journey.

As I face the end of 5771, eager to greet 5772, I hope will have the courage to engage in my own redemption. That these week before Elul and Selichot, I will draw plans to rebuild bridges burned; to make ruins out of walls I have erected; and to wash away the grime that dims the luster of G-d’s divine image. I hope that I will dig new wells in 5772 and that I will not drink from bitter waters. I hope that I will hear the ancient call of the Shofar– the blast that invites me to declare an unqualified “sorry” for my many failings.

My “High Holy Day i-tunes playlist” begins with Barbara Streisand’s Avinu Malkeinu which is then followed by this Michael Jackson favorite.

May redemption come swiftly for me, for all of us, for the House of Israel, and for all Humanity. – Amen

I’m gonna make a change, for once in my life
It’s gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference
Gonna make it right…

As I, turn up the collar on my favorite winter coat
This wind is blowin’ my mind
I see the kids in the street, with not enough to eat
Who am I, to be blind?
Pretending not to see their needs
A summer’s disregard, a broken bottle top
And a (human’s) soul
They follow each other on the wind ya’ know
‘Cause they got no where to go
That’s why I want you to know

I’m starting with the (one)** in the mirror
I’m asking (him) to change (her) ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change

I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love
It’s time that I realize
That there are some with no home, not a nickel to loan
Could it really be me, pretending that they’re not alone?

A willow deeply scarred, somebody’s broken heart
And a washed-out dream
They follow the pattern of the wind, ya’ see
‘Cause they got no place to be
That’s why I’m starting with me…”

I’m starting with the (one) in the mirror
I’m asking (her) to change (his) ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change

* Avinu Malkeinu is a traditional prayer for Selichot and for the Days of Awe: translation provided by agoldenshoe.

* * Quoted masculine language changed to be more inclusive. I realize that Michael Jackson was indeed male, and that this song was preformed in the first person– but what kind of Queer blogger would I be, if I did not in some way broaden the language and use of pronouns in the quoted lyrics. Perpetuating normative maleness or gender binaries is still in my mind a harmful practice, even if we quote iconic popular culture. I feel sure Michael wouldn’t mind.

“In the Beginning …

… God created”

I am not God, but I am creating. Like God, I face a formless void- a blank blog!!!! but I hope that from this empty chaos my creative energies will enable a bountiful garden of thoughtful Queer commentary to emerge. I am not God, and only time will be the truest judge of my good intentions; but it is with great excitement and strong commitment for completion that I begin this work.

“In the beginning God created”– but the work of creation is unfinished. With soul, and heart, and mind — bodies too — we (all of us) must continue the work God began and we must become co-workers with God in the creative task of establishing a garden in which fruit, knowledge, justice and love are shared freely.