A congregant commented on my Facebook status this week,
saying “Never thought of you as a square.” This was a real compliment. He was
referring to the red Human Rights Campaign logo that has been appearing on my
news feed all week.
This has been a momentous week for gay rights, human
rights, and civil rights. Who could have believed that the US Supreme Court
might seriously be leaning toward supporting same-sex marriage?
Who could have imagined the remarkable support for ending
DOMA, including all three Republican candidates for Senate in Massachusetts?
My first college roommate in the 1970s raised my
consciousness when she came out to me, a year later. In my sophomore year, when
the Gay-Straight Alliance was first established on campus, I suddenly saw men
and women who I knew and admired in a new light. The norms that I had grown up
with were upended. [Back then, we mostly talked about “gays.”]
While in rabbinical school in the 1980s, I added my voice
to those who called for accepting and ordaining openly gay and lesbian
rabbinical students. The Reconstructionist Rabbinical College was the first
seminary to take this step, and the Reconstructionist movement followed suit,
helping rabbis find jobs in congregations and havurot in the 1990s. [At that
point, we were referring to gays and lesbians.]
When Massachusetts became the first state to allow
same-sex marriage, I received calls from many places to inquire about
ceremonies. One couple I knew in Washington, D.C. (Mordecai Kaplan’s
granddaughter and her partner) had called in hopes of being married in
Massachusetts. Eventually they were able to have a legal ceremony in their home
town. Other couples came to me to sign marriage licenses, making official the
ceremonies I had performed for them years before. [By 2004, we were using the
term LGBT.]
That this has all occurred in one lifetime (or, I’d like
to say, half a lifetime) is a kind of “Dayenu” moment. But there is more.
At this month’s conference of the Reconstructionist
Rabbinical Association in New Orleans, I was proud to be present for the
installation of Rabbi Jason Klein of Baltimore as the first openly gay man to
become President of any rabbinical association. (My colleague and friend, Toba
Spitzer, had been installed as the first openly lesbian president of our
association in 2007.)
With his usual graciousness, modesty and willingness to
serve as a role model, Rabbi Klein said: “Coming out and growing into my adult
Jewish identity would not be the same were it not for affirming teachers,
rabbis, and other mentors along the way. Now, I am honored to be able to give
back by supporting colleagues who are creating welcoming communities in
hundreds of settings across North America and beyond.”
At convention, I attended a workshop entitled “Why (not)
a Queer Theology.” I learned from my friend and colleague, Rabbi David Dunn
Bauer, how the growing acronym LGBTQQA…. could actually be understood within
the frame of “queer”—meaning people who are open to a variety of gender and
sexual identities. I am still contemplating his profound teachings.
At our business meeting, we approved a new document for
our rabbis to think about Jewish identity in new ways. It included guidelines
for determining the Jewish identity of children of same-sex couples or born
using surrogates and other “alternative” means of procreation. Our colleague
Rabbi Rachel Weiss inserted language into the guidelines that made clear that
we do not privilege births via heterosexual sex over births via other reproductive
technologies. As Rachel said, in her community of Congregation Beit Simchat
Torah in New York City, those births are
the norm. It was a proud moment when our entire plenum voted to support the changes.
Who knows what the Supreme Court will decide? We will
have to be patient until the ruling comes down. But in the meantime, pay
attention to the chatter about gay marriage this week. Notice the widespread
support for same-sex marriage and the near-universal denunciation of the
Defense of Marriage Act. Remember the fierce opposition we faced in
Massachusetts in 2004. The opposition has not disappeared—they were certainly
in evidence in Washington, D.C. this week. But the momentum has shifted.
Miraculous, no?
As we chant hallel,
the ancient psalms of praise, throughout the week of Pesach, let us acknowledge
and proclaim these holy words:
hodu l’Adonai ki tov,
ki l’olam chasdo, which this week, I
translate as:
Give thanks to the Holy One for all the goodness we have
received; for love of all kinds is divine and is the most powerful tool we have
to recreate our world in God’s image.
With blessings for a loving Pesach holiday!
Rabbi Barbara Penzner
Thank you for writing this. It gives me a new perspective on Jewish Progressivism.
ReplyDeleteRoberta