The Shaar & The Q Community

Transcript of a talk given on Rosh Hashanah, 2018 by Sherri Kasten

Here's some background and history of the relationship between the Shaar Shalom and the LGBT Community, as I recall it.

The Shaar Shalom is a member of the Conservative moment, one of a number of different movements in the Jewish tradition.

So: in order, from left-leaning to right-leaning, from liberal to not quite so accepting: Reform, Reconstructionist, Conservative, Orthodox, and then any of the iterations of Orthodoxy, Ultra Orthodoxy.

So Shar Shalom is Conservative. The Conservative moment was accepting to queers a little bit after the more liberal movements, but in March 2007, the rabbinical assembly and the Jewish Theological Seminary said, "It's OK if you're queer, you can still become a rabbi." There certainly were queer rabbis, they just weren't out.

By the way, I'm using "queer" as shorthand, and I know that some people are offended by the term, so I apologize. I'm just lazy. It's easier than saying LGBTQTS2QTS.. and the rest.

In 2008, I left Halifax for a few years, and I don't remember any talk of having the "schul" (that is, the Yiddish word for synagogue) being more accepting of queers before that. Things were OK there, though. Everyone knew we were a couple, and I certainly never felt any lack of welcome, but it wasn't an overwhelming welcome. Howard Heyman was openly gay and leading services, so it wasn't like we were told to sit in the back or anything. We were welcome, we led services, we joined the board. But, it wasn't discussed, so it was a welcome but it wasn't an open welcome, if you can see the difference.

So I was away when the Shaar started asking, "What does that mean for the synagogue here? Would we have a queer rabbi? Would we allow the rabbi to marry a couple of queers?"

The rabbi at the time, Ari Eisenberg, had been hired as a part-time community leader, and during his ten years here he became a cantor, and then a rabbi. His brother is queer, so I think what happened is that, as a Jewish professional, he heard about the Conservative Movement being accepting to queers, and since he had a personal stake, he brought it up. And Howard also heard about it, and it was discussed by the Ritual Committee of the Synagogue.

The then-leader of the Ritual Committee said, "Very interesting, let's just see how things shake out." You know how Halifax works: we're fairly conservative, it's fairly common that a community would say, “We're not going to be on the cutting edge here, let's just see what happens.” But, then, several years went by, and Howard joined the Ritual Committee.

The chair of the Ritual Committee had changed, and the new one was supportive. The suggestion - to allow a queer rabbi and marriage - went to a vote, and then another, and another. It wasn't a straightforward progression. But over time, there was a lot more acceptance, and more discussion.

It definitely helped that Ari, the rabbinical leader at the time, even if he wasn't yet a rabbi, was supportive. Around that time, there was a queer Jewish group in the States, Keshet, and a gay orthodox rabbi, David Greenberg, who came out, and everyone was saying, "If you're orthodox, you can't possibly be queer, and if you're an orthodox rabbi, you can't possibly be gay," but... he didn't know that! So he came out and was unfortunately shunned by a lot of communities, but he wrote a book, _Wrestling With God And Man_ which you might know about, because he came to Halifax.

Howard, g-d love him, worked for years trying to get the synagogue to bring Rabbi Steve Greenberg here, with the help of the not-yet-rabbi Ari.

In 2015, the Central Library opened, and that year we managed to get Rabbi Greenberg here, and it was a marvellous weekend. It was transformative that this queer rabbi came, and talked first at the library, and then for the weekend, he talked like any other visiting scholar, talked at the synagogue. He gave lessons... and it was marvellous! It was profoundly moving for me as a queer Jew to have that kind of acceptance, and it changed from, "You're welcome here, but don't talk about it" to "We're really glad that you're leading services and that you want to join the board!"

For the tenth anniversary of the March 2007 decision, the Shaar's rabbi asked a number of queer jews that she knows -- Howard and me among them -- to talk about our experiences as queer jews in the Jewish community or just in our lives, after services. There were a bunch of queer Jews telling our stories! It felt amazing, and at some point between then and when Rabbi Greenberg came, the mother of a lesbian posted a rainbow Star of David on the door, which is a lovely welcoming sign. For people who are looking for it, it means a lot. For people who are looking for it and don't really like it, it means a lot also.

I've been on the Ritual Committee pretty much since I moved here in 2012, and I've been chair of it for a couple years, and as such I don't do outreach, because I'm not membership coordinator or chair, but when people come, I try to be friendly. So I very well remember one conversation with a woman who was coming to a lot of events and services, but she wasn't a member, and at some point, I asked, "You've been coming a lot, are you thinking of being a member? Do you have questions?" and she said, "Well, I'm not really comfortable because of the way that... those people are accepted." And I looked at her and said, "What kind of people do you mean?" knowing exactly what kind of people she meant. I can't remember how she managed to it out, but she managed to say, "You know, gay, lesbian, whatever" and.... while my mouth didn't literally drop open, I thought, "You know who you're talking to!" and she said, "Oh, nothing personal at all! Nothing personal!"

So, we've certainly had pushback, it's not perfect by any stretch.

For thousands of years, rabbis have talked about the most intricate parts of life, because Judaism is all about what we do on a day-to-day basis: how do we keep our culture, how do we keep the people, as a distinct, cohesive people? And that discussion covers every part of life. As an example, honest to goodness, one of our holiest books, the Talmud, really talks about, if a woman happens to be laying on her bed, and and a man is repairing the roof, and falls through the roof and lands on her and impregnates her, what does it mean for the child? That level of detail and discussion is in the Talmud! And at that level of detail, they had a lot to say about gay sex.

So, one time, the rabbi's husband gave a scholarly talk based on writings in the Talmud. This is is very common after service. Dan MacKay was there for this one, though, and the topic was... anal sex! Dan said, "I can't believe, in Synagogue, we're talking about anal sex! If this was brought up at the United Baptist Sandwich Social after service, every single blue-rinse granny would faint!"

So you can see that things have absolutely progressed.

Another experience: after the disastrously conflicted 2016 Halifax Pride Annual General meeting, there were several conflicts that were real, and imagined. At the Atlantic Jewish Council conference that followed from that, I was still feeling pain and needed to talk about it. There were a variety of viewpoints, and at some point, someone who I knew was trans joined the discussion, and I knew they were feeling very unsafe. It was a very difficult conversation. At some point, the rabbi's husband, who is also a rabbi, realized what was going on, that they felt unsafe, and not just because of what was being said, but also what was being felt or communicated nonverabally.

What they were feeling was completely valid. It also happened to be on or about IDAHOT - international Day Against Homophobian and Transphobia. I asked the rabbi's husband if we could go and say that memorial prayer - and we did. I found that profoundly moving. I've spent most of my life being fairly "out," but I don't tend to expect to be embraced for it. I guess I have plenty of internalized homophobia.

These three things I've mentioned to you have made me say, "This is amazing!" I actually feel like I'm embraced. So: I would agree that my synagogue is pretty good - not perfect, but pretty good.