Ask the Rabbi: How do I make peace with Leviticus 18 as a Queer Jew?

Rabbi, I love being Jewish. But as a Queer Jew, I struggle with feeling like I love Judaism more than it loves me. What do I do to understand my Jewish identity through the problems of texts like Leviticus 18?

 

Answer: I love the fact that you are doing the hard work to grapple with uncomfortable texts. It can be so hard and so painful to look at a part of our tradition that is the source of such shame and suffering, but I generally find that doing the work to engage with these questions is better than ignoring them or letting them drive you away from all of the gifts that Judaism has to offer. So let’s get our hands dirty in the work of Torah, shall we?

Let’s start by looking at the line in question. In Leviticus 18:22, we read: “Do not lie with a male as you lie with a woman; it is an abomination.” That’s not a comfortable verse to look at through the lens of supporting LGBTQ+ Jews. I’ll never fully understand the pain that comes from seeing bigotry canonized in our most sacred book. So, how do we move forward?

Generally, there are three options for what we can do when we confront a challenging text. First, we can ignore it. Pick different sections to study or read, shift the attention elsewhere, do the Biblical equivalent of sweeping the verse under the rug. To many, this feels like an uncomfortable choice, but that’s the point: for many people who struggle with conflict, it is easier to pretend something isn’t there than to actually force meaning onto it.

Our second option is to try to massage the understanding of the verse. By arranging the context around the verse, we can potentially arrive at an answer that feels less unpleasant than the most simplistic reading. For example, it is noteworthy that the verse is written with two different systems of describing identity. We read that one should not engage with a MALE like one would with a WOMAN. Why wouldn’t it be either male and female or man and woman? We can hang a lot of interpretation on that simple inconsistency. Another option would be to dive into what it means to lie with a male, AS ONE WOULD with a woman. Women and men have different biologies, making it impossible for any interaction to be the same. Thus, the verse must be describing something that we don’t understand on the surface. This also might look like citing the historical context in which the text originated. Many of the practices discussed in the Torah make a lot more sense when viewed through the historical lens of the Ancient Near East. Thus, placing the idea within the reality of time and place helps us to better understand a different cultural meaning than we might derive today (i.e,. this was about power-based sexual assault, rather than a mutually-loving homosexual relationship)

In both of the first two options, we are working to soften the text, to give it less power or impact. A message can’t hurt us if it is either ignored or recontextualized. But the final option for making meaning of the text is to acknowledge the outdated, homophobic mindset the Torah describes. History has changed humanity’s understanding of identity, and Judaism is no different. Sometimes, the best we can do is acknowledge that our texts reflect our humanity, including our most hurtful inclinations. And we can love flawed things.

Most importantly, when approaching a text that challenges part of how I see the world, I try to remember the priority system within Judaism in general and the Torah specifically. There are many rules that speak to all kinds of parts of human life, but at the end of the day, Judaism is about compassion. We are told in the very first chapter of the Torah that we are created in the image of God, and that everything else follows from that shared experience of the Divine. How could anyone, least of all our own tradition, argue with the idea that every person is sacred, and that anything that causes them harm should be avoided at all costs?

The great challenge of building a modern faith on an ancient book is the way that we have to interpret it and bring it into our daily lives. There are lots of ways to climb that mountain. We can pick and choose the words that matter to us. We can recontextualize the message to better understand its root intention and connect it to our own. And we can accept the reality that a text can be flawed, and make our peace with the complexity of the world. However you find meaning, I hope it is an answer that allows you to fully embrace who you are, how loved you are in the Jewish family, and how wonderful Judaism can be when we let compassion, kindness, and love guide our way. 

 

Austin Zoot is the Rabbi Educator at the Valley Temple in Wyoming, Ohio.