Coming Home
Raizy Lerner2011Fiction
credit: Simon Pais
What I would tell Mamme:
If I knew more about the fabric, I’d be better able to describe your dress. It was some type of silky thing that stuck to the backs of your knees when you stood up. The shul was hot and damp, I remember that. It seemed like you made me stay there for hours, quiet and supposedly attentive. I’d whine and pout and you would hiss through your teeth.
“Stop fidgeting,” you would say.
When I was good, you would sneak me chocolate covered almonds wrapped in gold foil. They would melt in my palm, and when you shoved the siddur into my hands tracks of chocolate would smudge and highlight the holy words.
“Now say the bracha, Shmully.”
I would assent, boruch atoh Adonoy… I’d close my eyes, and shuckel a little. I’d squint too, because even as a five-year-old I knew how to make it look good.
Mamme would smile approvingly, glad that I performed well.
It was rare for the women not to coo and fret, sliding even more candy into my chubby hands.
And now. And now I am fabulous, watching footage of strangers getting naked in Jacuzzis.
There is still religion here; we are all Gods.
A curvy girl nibbles on some guy’s ear, giggling and shooting sideways, furtive glances at the camera. Me, me me, her face says. Stay focused on me.
“Jazmin,” I yell. “Show us some tit.”
She winks. The strap of her bathing suit falls to show a faint Playboy bunny tattoo near her right nipple. James and I smile at each other from our canvas chairs, knowing the kids at home will eat it up.
After the cut, he walks over and gives me a soft rub on the back. “Good move, Sammy. That will be all over Twitter.”
A barely there kiss on my cheek, then he gets up and makes his way to the catering truck. You would think James is good looking, I think. He is tall, lanky. More boyish than manly, with perfectly manicured facial hair on a structured jaw. Tatti met him once, the time he came to LA for a meeting. I told him that James was my roommate, and I put a few of his pajama bottoms and such in the guest room. I moved his razor and toothbrush into that bathroom also, just a few little changes to help my old father fool himself.
It was only a few days after he left that I realized the tape labeled Free Willy was still in the VCR.
It was rewound all the way, but I knew that last time I watched it I stopped right after the part where James blows his load. It’s the only well done part, the rest is just us fooling around, acting. We were too nervous with the camera on my desk, the blinking on light, to concentrate on how it actually felt. Still, something must have gone well because James’s orgasm face was Eden. I love seeing him on the screen, seeing that look of pleasure I was giving him. I was definitely not the one to rewind the tape.
You understand, right?
What I would tell Avigail:
I am happy you were in Camp Bais Yaakov the summer they sent me away. You would have been too young to explain things to, and definitely too naïve. It happened one random afternoon. I remember the sun falling in strips across my room, the silver of that becher I got for memorizing Pirkei Avos reflecting the light and blinding me.
Mamme was crying, praying under her breath, asking God why, why it had to be her son who was the faygaleh. As far as I remember, He didn’t give her an answer.
Baby sister, you have never heard our mother wail like this. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, still hard from the magazine. She pushed the smut away then picked it up, torturing herself with pictures of men sucking on lollipops, men ripping off each other’s chest hair with their teeth like vilde chayes, men wearing sailor hats and nothing else, just men. Men.
I wished she would leave so I could finish jerking off before my Bar Mitzvah lesson. I didn’t take her seriously when she told me about the retreat for “confused boys.” That this was the last straw, I would be leaving tonight. That she spoke with Rabbi Silver and he would be keeping a keen eye out for any “funny business.” I laughed nervously, assuming she was just trying to scare me.
“I told your father you are going to Camp Agudah.”
In all my thirteen years of life, I never once heard of Mamme lying. Maybe I just never caught her. Maybe that’s where I get it from.
“Fine,” I murmured, holding back burning tears. In my mind, I was manly and nonchalant. “If I’m going anyways, can I just have my magazine back?”
Her face was twisted like when she used to get sick from the smell of salmon. She ripped the magazine in half, then half again, shredding the glossy flakes of paper between her fingers before she stormed out of the room.
I was still amazingly stiff for a barely pubescent boy, using my shame as arousal. I tried to put the colored papers together, to form one erect penis from the scraps.
And now. Now I see those penises every day between takes, soft core porn thinly veiled as reality TV. The lie I once wore on my head, the velvet yarmulke, has been replaced by a 2010 spring line Versace fedora. I yell directions, place people exactly where the camera loves them best. Show their good side. Hide their flaws. The puckering stomachs, the coarse back hair, the meaningless MBAs.
Baby sister, don’t ask why I left for this. I can’t begin to explain, but imagine the feeling of wearing a really thick ski parka in the middle of the summer. On a playground. You would be sweating sick, thinking of nothing but the heavy weight, the extra layer. You don’t have the energy to use the slide or climb the jungle gym. All the other kids are playing in their T-shirts and shorts, enjoying the warmth, not being suffocated by it. Happy. You want to be like that too, and you can’t take it anymore and finally you rip off the parka, cool freedom air tickling down your sweaty, red arms. You enjoy the breeze for a moment, but then you realize how naked you are. People are laughing at you, seeing you bare, seeing you naked.
What I would tell Yossi:
I am sorry I kissed you, Yoss. You weren’t expecting it. That must have fucked you up big time.
Imagine that, a fifteen-year-old yeshiva bochur, kissed by his best friend on the way back from a baseball game.
I don’t even blame you for punching me. I would have done the same thing, if out of nothing else but the sheer element of surprise. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t take it anymore, and I needed to know what it would be like. While Avrumi bragged to us one day in the yeshiva parking lot about how his sister’s friend had let him touch her mosquito-bite breasts, and all the other boys fantasized about similar future homemakers, I would feverishly yank it to your class picture during bathroom breaks.
The teacher would ask, “Why did you take so long, are you sick?”
“Food poisoning,” I would plead. Lactose intolerance. Never said love sick, sorry for fibbing. Never let him know it was self-disgust and yearning that kept me away from class for so long.
You hit puberty so early, the first boy to proudly show off the hairs below his belly button. Did you never notice how I looked with such interest and intent? That when the other guys turned away, coaxing their own curls to grow, I kept staring?
And truthfully, you’re so smart I assumed you figured it out even before I did. That day, when two goyish girls watched us play baseball, watching you eye them through the wiry fence, I felt the thick bolus of hate and jealousy. Their curvy parts were starting to stick out, and I saw the way you looked at them. But maybe, just maybe, you were pretending? So when we walked home, through the woody area, I kissed you, hoping maybe this was a cold, maybe you would catch this horrible disease and I wouldn’t be alone. You didn’t, you just punched me and ran home, leaving me with a bloody nose.
When my father asked about why he never saw you around anymore, I mumbled something about an argument over a baseball game.
“Is it worth it to lose a friend over a baseball game, Shmulik?” my father would ask. “Yossi is a good boy. A masmid. Try to fix things up. He seems like he would be a good chavrusa.”
Yes. It did seem to my teenage self that you’d make a great chavrusa.
And now. And now my assistant asks me, what if I had to do it with one or the other, would I pick Angelina or Jen? I say Jen, just so she’ll stop pestering me.
“I’m not surprised,” she says factually. “Gay guys normally like her better. Smaller boobs.”
Later tonight, I’ll be looking at James in the mirror while I am behind him. I’ll notice that his eyelashes are long, like a woman’s. I will try to picture famous actress’ faces on his body, just to see if maybe I can do it, maybe I’ll stay hard. I want to see Angelina Jolie’s lips and the curve of her bottom, get so turned on I burst. Picture her cheekbones. Picture her eyes. Come on, I’ll try so damn hard I’ll start crying, but James will feel me wilt and jump into bed, his face buried in the corner. He’ll blame himself for my soft dick, think he’s too old to be sexy. I’ll tell his back and his shoulders how sorry I am. Whisper it to them. I am sorry, Mamme and Tatti, too. Sorry I could not keep my hard on.
What I would tell James:
I never thought I’d fall for an older guy. When I went to the place in Flatbush for the first time after hours, it was part of Rabbi Silver’s secret experiment. I told him the Camp didn’t work, it was wearing off after these years, I needed extra attention in order to be cured. He said that was a great idea and led us in classes, me and three other faggots from my neighborhood. We were taught how running with your knees tucked in makes you look stronger, how the Torah encourages sex between men and women.
He gave out these wands with a metal tip and a switch that we were supposed to use at night, to shock ourselves whenever we had impure thoughts. God wants us to combine the physical with the mental, he said. He told me this remedy is in the Gemara, that it is foolproof.
While the other boys used their wands as personal straddle sticks, putting them into and through anything they could, I strained against the shocks. I started out with almost thirty shocks a night, and had to shuffle from shiur to shiur for weeks. After a while, I got it down to twenty, then ten, then only once or twice a week.
I thought I was almost cured, almost ready for the final step. Rabbi Silver said the only way to slay a dragon was to confront it with a double-edged sword. I walked into the bar with the rabbi, excited to show him what a healthy, normal guy I was. I was going to prove how the hedonism disgusted me. He was going to see my expression of pain at the trannies and pansies, congratulate me for being so normal.
Instead, I remember feeling glad I gave back my wand the week before, telling the rabbi I no longer needed it. I saw you and I felt hazy and thick, like I was drinking you in. You were seductive and painful, and I wanted to kiss you and spit in your face all at once. I gave back the wand, but if not I would have exploded from the shocks that night.
The rabbi looked at me, eagerly awaiting my disdain. I feigned it well, I think. I begged to leave, told him I could not handle the sin in that place. He said I was a success not only for my family, but for all of the Jewish people.
While we were walking out, you slid your number into the pocket of my pants.
The future of the nation is reliant on liars like me.
And now. And now I am boarding a plane to New York, forcing myself back into my old life after six years but just for a minute, just to say Kaddish at my father’s grave. I am sorry that I didn’t tell you in person, that I just sent you a quick text before I left. It’s crunch time in the office, with Jazmin picking her top three on the show today. I didn’t want to take you away from work.
Mamme called yesterday. That was the call I had to take alone in the bedroom. I knew you were pissed that I was being so private, but she never calls and I didn’t want to cry in front of you like a fruitcake.
“Shmully. You need to come back tomorrow. Or tonight, even. Your father had a heart attack, he’s gone. Uncle Berel is in Australia and there are no other men in the family to say Kaddish.”
I was nauseated by her tone, like she was reciting a grocery list.
“And please, don’t bring your friend.” Her tone was smooth but thick, as if she was talking through a filter. “You remember the words, right? If not, I wrote a copy out with transliteration.”
Yes, Mamme. I heard that prayer three times a day until I was seventeen. I remember the words.
So, J, I love you, but I have to do this alone. I’ll bring you back with me next time. Cross my heart.
What I would tell Tatti:
I only snuck out a few times, since James and I just met a week or so before graduation. It would be after you and I did Daf Yomi at the Formica kitchen table, and you already turned out the overhead light. I’d tell you I’d be in bed soon, just wanted to make myself a snack. Don’t worry; we would never meet in the house, chas v’shalom.
The first time James took me out, we went to a non-kosher restaurant, I think it was French. I couldn’t eat a thing, only drank one, two, six glasses of water. I said shehakol over the water, trying to salvage the last of what I knew was right. I told myself he was just a friend, just someone to get me in touch with the industry. He was a television producer, some big shot at some channel I’d never heard of, but I pretended that I was a film connoisseur.
“What type of cinematography are you interested in?” he asked, a lazy grin embedded in salt and pepper stubble.
“Oh, the regulars,” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Steven Spielberg, mostly.”
I didn’t say that Spielberg was the only one I knew, since Avrumi told us about him one time, after he had snuck into Jurassic Park, recounting the story to us in vivid detail.
I’m sure he knew my game, but he thought it was cute, how nervous I was. He kissed me goodnight on my cheek, my right one, where I placed my palm for a full minute after he left.
We went back to the M-Spot a few weeks later. I allowed the leather vests to turn me on, held James’ hand as he led me through the crowd. We danced, and I remember trying to recite the Jewish months to keep myself down. I’d look like a young pervert, getting all stiff in a joint like that. We kissed that night too, on the lips, it was delicious and painful and I knew right then that God hated me.
I really left to save you, more so than anyone else. I couldn’t keep it up for much longer, not now that I was in love, and I know how people in the community talk. I picked fights, told you I hate religion, hate God, hate you. I moved here, fabulous LA, and the hate fizzled. Sort of.
What I would tell everyone:
I almost went home once. James and I got into a fight about something silly, I think it was that I always left the TV on but not the cable, and he could hear the buzzing through our bedroom door. I told him that it was not anything important, human beings can’t hear such high-pitched noises anyway. He said I was wrong, he could hear, and it bothered him.
“You are such a child sometimes, Sam. Just think about someone else besides yourself for once.”
That one really hit me hard. He never once thanked me for dropping it all, moving out to LA with him and forgetting my family, my life. I did not complain, did not doubt him, and because I left the television on now I am a child.
“A child? So what does that make you? A homo cradle robber?”
I ripped into him, yelling and even if you were watching me with the volume off, you would get what I was saying. Loser. Pedophile. Stole me from my home, my community. Wanted me to move here and be his fucking cabana boy, the dancing monkey in his reality TV freak show life.
Once I started I could not stop and he just looked at me like I was a big crazy logic puzzle, hundreds of columns but really filled with no logic at all. There was too much confusion for him to be hurt right then, and I didn’t stick around for the aftermath. I threw a few things in my LeSportsac bag and sprinted the whole way to the Greyhound station.
It was only when I said the words “one way” and “Lakewood” to the cashier that I realized I was trying to run back, all the way back, to before I allowed myself to become this. This flashy, faggy behind-the-scenes prima donna. There was nothing there, it was a dream that I crushed and maimed and was perverted beyond repair.
“Never mind, thanks.” I mumbled to the guy behind the plastic, and took the slow walk back to James to think about my dignity, and how I watched it crumble under my own sick needs.
And then. And then he forgave me immediately. Pulled me to him and shushed me, stroking my head. I just sobbed, my tears leaving splotchy marks on his cotton sweater. He probably thought the tears were for him, that my red, shaking fists were apologies.
They were apologies. They were true, repentant, regretful apologies.
But they were not for him.
My eyes were closed, and I was back in my old bedroom, looking around and touching the surfaces. My fingers remembered the feel of the silver becher on my shelf. The way I see it, my Tanach is still next to it, the pages yellowed around my Bar-Mitzvah Torah portion.
I open my eyes and I am in my Rodeo Drive condo. I see the blank white wall, a self-portrait. I have an IKEA lamp illuminating mahogany shelves, empty except for a plant in a glass vase. It is a plastic stalk James saw in a magazine and thought it was chic, so it lives here, tall and lanky and lifeless.
And now. I’m blinking to stay awake, in my seat in the back of the shul.
I have replaced the fedora with a black Borsalino. I sway back and forth with my eyes shut, squeezing tight, thanking God for this second chance. It’s only an act if I stop pretending at some point, but I never will. The truth is we all act:
The smiles the neighbors greeted me with at the funeral, comforting me and apologizing for my loss, the pats on the back, only washing off their hands when I walk away.
The Hebrew words, repeated over and over until it just becomes a chant, a popular song with a catchy tune and no real meaning.
My mother’s soft humming, covering the silence of our past together, as we sit at the Shabbos table eating chewy meat and rice.
And my wife, my aishes chayil, kind, patient and gentle, crying late at night as I stroke myself to lewd pictures of men sucking each other off, but smiling the next day as she drops me off at kolel.
And me, eyes closed, fists raised towards the sky, reciting the holy prayer words like I mean them: Baruch atoh Adonoy…
24 Responses
Great story. But who can pretend forever? I think that’s a good topic for discussion. Once you decide to ‘fake it’ indefinitely, how long does it actually last?
The author of this piece is a woman? How strange is that?
I loved this! So beautifully constructed and emotional and leaves one with many questions at the end. Great job!
“O’ cup of misery, slow down, give me some respite!
For my thoughts and my soul have already had their fill of your misery…” (Kinnos L’Tisha B’Av, kinah 36, Tzion Halo Sishali)
The pain reflected in this essay is almost unbearable. I am a mashigiach in a yeshiva; from time to time I meet frum boys who struggle with homosexuality. I just met one today. How should a G-d fearing, Torah observant Jew feel toward such a person? In my opinion, compassionate. Compassion and empathy so strong and overwhelming that judgmentalism doesn’t have the chutzpa to rear its ugly, arrogant head.
Beautiful and thoughtful writing RL; thanks.
Curious; welcome to the world of literary creativity. Learn the language. What to the unlettered is ’strange’, is truly mastery and skill.
Dovid Levine; as long as we are saddeled with the existence of yeshivahs, I wish that sensitive mashgichim, as you sound, shall abound.
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2087274,00.html
Interesting. Obviously all participants agree to partake. I wonder what readers think about the idea.
dovid- thx for the link, it maid my day! however, for orthodox is an old debate, ‘it gets better’ holds that as long as its oral sex its a %100 ok. i wonder what they will do with the shulchan urech even haezer siman 23, or maybe this is ok anyway …
i also wonder if its true that homosexuality is indeed a sicknes, or its just a taavah that they got used to, if its indeed a sickness it could be a shaaleh whether to make the brocho meshane habrios…
Siyum Hashas wrote:
“i also wonder if its true that homosexuality is indeed a sicknes, or its just a taavah that they got used to”
Whatever it is there are plenty of people Jewish or not, who have tried to fight it, who didn’t want to be homosexual, and it seems to be a futile fight. Personally, I know one of my best friends from childhood who knew she was gay in her early teens, she was not Jewish, and lived a secular lifestyle, but there’s still a lot of discrimination against gays in secular society. She kept it a secret from her family and most friends, dated a boy, tried to excel at other things in her life, dedicated herself to her studies and sports. She became a successful professional but lived in conflict with her identity for most of her twenties trying to avoid at all costs being a disappointment to her parents. No matter how hard she tried, she is still gay today, and finally came out out to her family in her 30’s. These are painful things people go through. I believe sexual orientation is part of people’s ingrained personalities/identities. I do believe they are born that way.
Siyum Hashas,
Homosexuality is no more a “sickness” than fingerprints or the sun rising in the East. It’s just the way things are and is not subject to change. It can’t be “cured”, and gay people are not any more abominable than Jews or people with blue eyes.
Your religious beliefs may say otherwise. But by that standard Jews are irredeemably evil, and we should kill every one of them. At least that’s what several fanatic strains of Christianity and Islam say. Best to leave them alone as long as they leave you alone. If you don’t like being called a Christ-killer best not to toss same-caliber insults at them.
todd- i did not mean to insult anybody or to say that homosexuality should be prohibited. my question was very simple, is it true that gay people are born this way, or its something that they get used to. and since i don’t know anyone gay whom to ask this question i posed it here.
now, even if they are born gay doesn’t mean that its not a sickness, many studies prove that homosexuality is unhealthy (http://home60515.com/4.html), and just as when someone was born with a heart desease, although he has it naturally, doesn’t mean that its not a sickness, even if it can not be cured, the fact that he has a condition which is unhealthy that most people don’t have, this is what makes it a sickness. it doesn’t mean that he is evil or its his fault, and it doesn’t mean that homosexuality shouldn’t be legal, but he is still leading an unhealthy life (to some extent).
my religious belief doesn’t say that these people are evil or bad or unhealthy, it only says that homosexuality is prohibited, just like eating a cheeseburger is prohibited for us according to my belief, or maybe you think that i consider everyone who eats a cheeseburger as evil. by the way, the torah only condems male gay, not lesbians.
SIYUM HASHAS:
if you want to define illness, you have to note that illnesses handicap the individual in some way. It is generally a physical or mental malfunction that impairs you in some way to carry out your daily activities. Being gay does not impair the person to carry out their everyday life, does not limit them in their daily routine, or in their education or career goals. It does not impair their romantic life either, since they want to be romantic with people they are physically attracted to, which in their case, happens to be people of their same sex. So as long as they can pick their partner, they can have a romantic life. The friend I mentioned, is a very healthy individual: has a thriving professional career, several hobbies in music and sports, and has been in a long term relationship with the same person for many years (I think 10 years more or less) She is also kind person who is a good friend to many people, myself included.
There is no longer any pain and suffering in her life from her gay lifestyle. It does not impair her daily activities, her personal or professional aspirations. What leads to the pain and suffering of gay people is the shame of being gay, or the shame they believe it might bring to their loved ones if they admit to being gay. Now a quick look at wikipedia will show you that shame refers to “genuine dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation.” One cannot lose honor or fall from grace on one’s own. Other’s must bring shame to us. Honor is granted by others who stand by our side and honor us, grace us with their presence. Yet sometimes people chose to condemn instead. If gay people are not condemned, their nature, how they were born, would not bring them shame. They would grow up like other children, go to school, chose an occupation, chose a romantic partner, adopt children if they wanted to, and none of that would bring pain to them. In other words, being gay would not handicap them in any way. So the pain and suffering comes not from the condition of being gay, but from the shame certain communities assign to that condition.
Now why does the Torah condemn someone being gay? why does it condemn only the gay man and not the gay woman? I don’t know, that’s a question for a Torah scholar I guess. But another condemnation in the Torah comes to mind: You shall stone your stubborn and rebellious son (child?, sorry I am not a Torah scholar) The Talmud sages sure found their way out of that one, no?
jew- Although I disagree with your definition of illness, (diabetes, for example, is an illness even though it doesn’t affect your daily life) I fully agree that the term illness can be misinterpreted, and shouldn’t be used on such a delicate issue, I just wanted to point out that (male) gay is unhealthy whether its good or evil or niether, just like smoking etc. but they certainly don’t deserve to be identified as second class, or to be discriminated, at least from a secular point of view. I apologize for anyone who got hurt.
Regarding your questions on the torah, let me tell you, when I will meet god I will have so many, much more disturbing questions to ask him , that I will surely forget about gay, but as I think of it, maybe for the mere fact that male gay is unhealthy he condemns it. And yes, the Talmud did find a way out for the rebellious son, actually, they hardly found a way in. according to the Talmud (tractate Sanhedrin) the laws of the rebellious son are so complicated, and it is required so many rare coincidences in order the stoning should actually be carried out, that it’s nearly impossible to happen. The Talmud even states that it never happened and it probably won’t happen. Therefore, I see it more as a warning for the parents to take care of their rebellious son before he grows up, rather than the literal meaning of it.
Siyum — I understand that you didn’t mean to offend with your comments, so I don’t want to sound overly harsh. But please, let’s just get facts straight. Being gay is in no way, in and of itself, unhealthy. It’s an orientation that can have consequences, sure. But by that same token, asexual people can argue the same about sexual people.
I think what you’re aiming for — but aren’t saying clearly — is that homosexual activity (at least for males) carries greater risks than heterosexual activity. That’s probably true. All that means is that gay people need to take all necessary precautions to be safe. But there are many ways to do that, and by and large, being gay nowadays does not automatically bring with it major health risks. To claim otherwise might just mean you’re spending too much time on the “H.O.M.E.” site you linked to above.
shulem- Thanks for clarifying my previous comments, you got them well. What you are saying about contemporary homosexuality makes sense, my knowledge on homosexuality is entirely derived from the traifene internet, since it doesn’t exist in my/our community, just as child molestation, HIV, and heretics, so I may be missing some information on that topic, and I thank you for providing it to me, as you always do.
Siyum Hashas said: “rather than the literal meaning of it.”
Yes, I too feel that with certain things in Torah, when they call out loudly to our sense of right and wrong, they cannot be taken literally.
If you are interested, here’s an interview with a gay orthodox man, I am assuming on the more modern side of orthodox. He says “What has kept me in the community is the love and support of those around me and the understanding that just because I struggle with one issue in the Torah, does not mean I can’t be Orthodox.” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/shira-hirschman-weiss/gay-orthodox-jews-it-gets_b_797205.html
Also, a good argument against the notion that being gay is something that will “catch on and spread” if we become more accepting of it, is the case of the Netherlands. They were the first country to legalize same sex marriage in 2001, and had legalized same sex civil unions since 1998. Their population numbers indicate that the number of gay marriages has remained within the same small range for the past 10 years. Makes sense, since even in the most liberal and accepting communities amongst us the number of gay people remain a minority of the total population. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/09/how-the-dutch-work-same-sex-marriage/
“In March 2006, Statistics Netherlands released estimates on the number of same-sex marriages performed in each year: 2,500 in 2001, 1,800 in 2002, 1,200 in 2004, and 1,100 in 2005.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Same-sex_marriage_in_the_Netherlands
Siyum;
Homosexuality doesn’t exist? Go onto craigslist and search “frum gay personals” and see how many ads you will find.
Child molestation? Are you kidding? How many criminal Rabbis have molested their innocent charges in the past 50 years? Hundreds at least. Although we will not know the full number because your leaders and community protects these monsters.
Heretics? Um do you know what site your reading right now? How many Unpious participants are underground heretics within the Orthodox community?
Justin — I think SH meant it tongue-in-cheek.
@ Jew by Choice:
“Now why does the Torah condemn someone being gay? why does it condemn only the gay man and not the gay woman?”
The Torah doesn’t condemn gay people more than it condemns straight people. You can’t condemn taste, just action.
This does not ease the problem. Just as most heterosexual men and women act on their sexuality, so do most homosexual men and women. Sex is a need, not a want. (It is not a need like air, food, and even shelter, but it is a need similar to respect, emotional support, and other basic human needs. You won’t die if you don’t get them, but life without them is miserable, almost not worth living.) This is the compassion I feel for homosexuals. A mamzer has a similar problem, since they have a hard time finding someone to marry. And in truth, any older single frum man or woman has good reason to be very frustrated. Consider a man in love with a married woman or a woman who can’t get divorced. The gemara in Sanhedrin talks about a man who was literally dying to talk with a married woman. (By the way, the rabbis forbade contact in that case, not because of sexual sin; rather, their intent was protecting women’s dignity. Interesting.) Homosexuals may have it worst because they have NO halachically permissible outlet.
Nevertheless, Torah law outlaws homosexuality. This proves difficult if not unmanageable for individuals, but the law considers the entire nation, for thousands of years. I think most of us agree that ideally, children should be raised in nuclear families with heterosexual, monogamous parents. That is the recipe most likely to produce productive, successful adults. And it doesn’t just benefit children. I think adults in heterosexual, monogamous marriages have the lowest health risks, best emotional and social states, and are best able to focus their energies productively. (Of course, people differ and this is a generality; I am thinking of the best practices to found a long-lasting, healthy, productive community.) Interestingly, I heard on BBC last night that men lose about 35% of their testosterone after they have children. Not enough to affect libido at home, but enough to reduce distractions and keep men focused on their family duties.
Perhaps it helps some homosexuals cope with their predicament to know their suffering is for the sake of national welfare. And perhaps some of them will choose to practice homosexuality because they can’t live without it. Either way, we must have sensitivity and compassion for homosexuals. And we need to balance that with promoting healthy living for all.
I posted the link describing the movement to marry frum gays to frum lesbians because I applaud helping homosexuals live Torah lives. Interestingly, a frum therapist who specializes in sex addictions told me those marriages are unusually successful. (Women say gay men make great friends! http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-157806/Does-woman-need-gay-best-friend.html) Some participants in that experiment found that “rooming” with a member of the opposite sex helped them discover heterosexual tendencies.
Lesbian sex is halachically not a sexual act, just as gay hugging, kissing, and stroking are not halachically sexual acts. Still, rabbinic or Torah law forbids lesbianism because it considers all homosexuality immoral, part of the sexual excesses of biblical nations. Lesbianism also weakens the heterosexual, monogamous family lifestyle the Torah encourages. See Toras Cohanim parshas Acharei Mos parshisa 8, Shabbos 65A-B and Yevamos 76A, Rambam Yad Isurei Biyah 21:8, Shulchan Aruch Even Hoezer 20:2.
An excellent bibliography of Orthodox Judaism’s response to homosexuality can be found here: http://www.atid.org/resources/ATIDbiblio1.doc. Some of the links did not work. I also found this http://www.nishma.org/isjudaismhomophobic.pdf intriguing considering the author’s biography.
Dovid Levine:
Thank you for your through response, I appreciate the the points about talmud and the links to build up my arguments as I engage in these kinds of debates. I have not studied Talmud.
However, i think you need to reexamine your idea of being “kind” to gay people while asking them to “sacrifice for the well being of the nation.” there’a a large disconnect there. (sorry if my quotes are not exactly accurate but i am on a mobile device typing quickly)
If for example you personally had to face a son of yours coming out gay, and you believe that he cannot at all live the Torah life you and your closest community support, the kindest thing would not be to ask him to suppress his sexuality as sacrifice for the entire community, but rather to honestly lay out his choices: i cannot accept your lifestyle and you cannot live here if you chose to be gay, but here are some contacts for some Jews/rabbis/shuls with various levels of observance who are gay and or accept gays. Hopefully you can throw an I Love you and I wish you well in there. I know this could sound ridiculous from a frum perspective, but i do believe that would be the kindest attitude in this circumstance. About the link with the gays and lesbians marrying each other, i have to take the 5th I think. In principal, i very much believe, hey if they wanna do it and it works for them, i am sure there’s a
segment of the gay/lesbian Frum people who can be content with such an arrangement, but i dont believe it would work for every gay/lesbian frum. Some of them are still gonna suffer greatly from suppressing a sexual need you agree is as basic as food and respect. And when I read the article I was taken aback by the rabbi’s admission that he simply looks the other way if some of these couple cheat sexually outside the marriage. Is he blatantly condoning orthopraxis?
Hi Jew by Choice,
I’d like to believe if one of my children “came out”, I would take an approach close to what you suggest. See my comments here http://www.unpious.com/2011/08/frum-intermarried/. I have dealt with talmidim who were homosexuals similarly. I would not direct him to “rabbis” who reformulate the Torah according to their own understanding, and I would ask him not to do anything that undermines the safety and sanctity of my home, but I would do my best to help him. I would want him to be able to either overcome or repress his homosexuality for his own good and for the good of our nations. But if he decided he could not, I think I would still love him and accept him. I am not God, and it is not for me to judge him.
I think the idea of public good over private good is important and valid. If my son was drafted into the army for a war, it might seem kind for me to help him avoid serving. I might be saving his life! However, if I believed in the war and his service would contribute to the cause, I think that would be a subtle cruelty masquerading as kindness. I would be protecting my son’s interest at the expense of the viability of my country. The same reasoning applies to asking homosexuals not to practice for the sake of a larger national good. I think it is the correct, albeit difficult, choice of kindness to make.
Dovid
justin – You remind me of a old Jewish saying. “what is called a yiddishe joke? A joke that a gentile (or a non observent jew, for that matter) doesn’t understand, even when it’s said in his language…” I suggest you start to study the Talmud to get more of the Jewish sense of humor and sarcasm rubbed on you, but reading articles and comments in unpious written by former Talmudists is also just fine.
Dovid – very good points. You got into a very sad subject, what should a religious man, who believes in god and in his religion, do when he realizes that his religion causes him to live an unhappy life. a Christian does not have that problem, since happiness and love is the number one priority according to their religion (just like life in the Jewish religion) so its self understood that he should give up on his obligations to god for the sake of his happiness, but what about Jews? Does god want him to live an unhappy, unsatisfied life or to give up on his religion?
In fact, if someone believes in god and that he created each and every one of us, then it also means that he intentionally created people who are depressed, sick, and suffer for most of their life. The only answer to that question would be that we only see half of the picture, which means that there is a world to come where these unfortunate people will get repaid for their suffering. Therefore, my opinion is that if someone believes in god he must also believe that there exists a life after death, or to believe that god must be evil (at least to some extent) or that he is not in control of everything. Both of these options are very hard to believe, for if god exists, he is the ultimate power, and he therefore must be able to control everything, and the ultimate power doesn’t have any negative feelings which could lead him to be evil.
I feel like I’ve been shouting to someone far away, cupping my hands around my mouth to help my voice travel further, to some people standing over there on a far away hill, somewhere across from the hill I am on. And now I am just tired.
I did manage to hear some things they shouted back, but I am trying not to think about some of the words that traveled over such a deep, unbridgeable valley… “if I believed in the war and his service would contribute to the cause, I think that would be a subtle cruelty masquerading as kindness…”
My heart does weigh heavy, thinking of some of those boys, 10, 11, 12 years old, on the cusp of puberty, sleeping soundly in their beds, happy and trusting in their loved ones and their mentors, boys who have no idea that as a sea of hormones will soon take over their growing bodies, they are about to hit a 10 ton concrete wall at full speed in their innocence. Their loved ones and mentors will tell them “boy, you listen now, you must continue to hit that wall, for the sake of our nation!”
But there is kindness in there, I am just so blind in my uneducated darkness. I’ve been listening too much to those liberal “rabbis” hence I fail to see the kindness! God help me, how can I be so blind.
I am officially out of this thread and I think I need to take a break from Unpious all together. Peace out.
OK, serious question here. The biblical quote says not to lie with a man as you would with “a woman”. But it seems to me somewhat significant that it doesn’t say “wife”. Isn’t there a huge difference, biblical-era-speaking, between “a woman” versus “a wife”? Consider the biblical times that it was written – a woman (ie. not attached to, and therefore not protected, legally or physically for that matter, by a man) was a total walking target – she could be subject to rape, abuse, coerced sex, prostitution, all without any recourse whatsoever – what was she gonna do, go to the police? It wasn’t a nice place to be for a single gal. A wife, on the other hand, had instant protection because she belonged to a man – therefore, she couldn’t just be used and abused, at least not without severe repercussions (which would act as a deterrent). The biblical quote doesn’t say “a man shall not take another man as his wife as he would a woman”. So, rather than just gay sex that’s prohibited, it seems that the prohibition is against male-on-male coerced sex/rape or abuse or prostitution. That would make more sense, considering also the impact of a man who is raped by another man is absolutely devastating – it’s not only the horrible experience, but the complete shattering of his sense of masculinity. So, please don’t answer me sarcastically, I really have wondered about this for a long time.
For what it’s worth…Hurray for today’s repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
http://www.aol.com/2011/09/20/soldier-comes-out-to-father-on-youtube_n_971994.html?1316542924&icid=maing-grid7|netscape|dl1|sec1_lnk2|97391