There is a story in the Talmud of two rabbis who seem attracted to each other. Everything about their interaction suggests romantic interest. One goes as far as marrying the sister of the other, so that they can always be close to each other. These two sages, and so many others, were closeted. They were denied the life they might have led and denied certain peace and contentment as a result.
How many have had to conceal their identity due to social pressure, government mandates, religious doctrine or family norms? How many had to remain in the shadows so to protect their own wellbeing? The stories are limitless. America’s history, this world’s history, is indeed replete with stories of ‘othering’ those whose sexual orientation and understanding of gender are anything other than heterosexual.
I am thankful to be part of the KI community, a community which, among so much else, makes space for our queer friends and neighbors. This is a congregation that not only accepts, but actively embraces those who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. This is a congregation that knows that one’s sexuality has little to do with their innate worth or sanctity as a human being. Our Inclusion Committee, as we all are, is committed to building a place of safe haven, enrichment and dynamic Jewish life for all of us.
At our Pride Shabbat service this Friday night, we will hear the voices of many who lead us in our effort to ensure that KI remains a place of inclusivity. We will hear from our LGBTQ collaborative, which has been meeting monthly to learn, process, engage in dialogue and socialize. We did not form this group in a vacuum, but rather it comes in direct response to the relentless homophobia and transphobia that exists in our world at present. When gay lives are ended, when trans folks are demeaned, when legislation is enacted in an attempt to quash queer communities, we must not be silent. We need all voices to join in shouting down hate.
We Jews know what it means to be made to feel like a stranger. The Torah tells us once and again that we were strangers in the land of Egypt. And we were. We were made to feel strange, different, wrong. We were made to feel like outsiders. Not only in Egypt, but in too many places to count, we Jews were made to feel less than. We know the sheer pain of discrimination. All the more so, therefore, it is our obligation to make sure others are not made to feel this way. Our job is to stand up for the would-be stranger and align ourselves with the outcast.
You can be an ally: in how you vote, in what you read, in the language you use, in the causes you support, in the way you spend your money, in the people you choose to associate with and more. Embrace this Pride Month. See it as a celebration of difference and diversity, those things that make this country – and our faith – so rich and so beautiful. Join me in living with pride. Join me in celebrating the colorful mosaic that is creation. Join me in leaning into difference, not running from it. Join me. Be proud of who you are and proud to be part of this congregational family.