JUDAICA DEAN—Rabbi Leslie Lipson, dean of Judaic Studies at San Diego Jewish Academy, listens to a question posed by journalism students about Torah teachings concerning marriage and homosexuality.   In foreground from left are students Harry Doshay and Eitan Frysch. 

____________________ The Jewish Citizen          by Donald H. Harrison

Mayor Sanders' turnabout on gay marriage prompts many questions

SAN DIEGO—Mayor Jerry Sanders’ dramatic and emotional reversal on the subject of gay marriages—from being an opponent of the concept to an advocate—has been the talk of the town.   Especially because Sanders is a Republican, some say he gave up any hope to advance from the non-partisan mayor’s office to a higher partisan office such as U.S. Senate or governor. Some think it could hurt his chances even to be reelected as mayor, so angry are religious conservatives on this issue.

Others say just the reverse, that when Sanders broke down and cried as he told of the conflict he has over the issue, it was an uncommonly genuine moment for a politician and one that connected to voters’ hearts.  Sanders explained that his daughter is a lesbian and that some of his friends and staff members are also gay.  How, he asked, could he tell these people who are so close to him personally that they are somehow less deserving than other people to enjoy the benefits of marriage?

I had the opportunity to hear the matter discussed from different perspectives today.  My friend Okoronkwo Umeham said that back in his city of Arochukwo in Eastern Nigeria, people are familiar with the parable of the New Yam Festival wrestlers.   As the wrestlers tug at each other in the middle of the ring, all sorts of advice—we Jews would call it kibbitzing—is shouted at them from outside the circle.   However, when those same advice-givers themselves are called into the circle to wrestle, suddenly they forget all their own admonitions and make the same mistake in tactics as others.

Similarly, on political issues, it is easy to criticize from the sidelines, but when you have to make the actual decision, it becomes an entirely different matter.  Once Sanders was in the ring, he didn’t have the luxury of sideline philosophizing. The issue was forced upon him by the City Council, which had voted for the City of San Diego to file an amicus brief in favor of gay marriage in a civil case pending before the courts.  For Sanders, the choice was stark.  He could veto the bill—and, from his point of view, reject his daughter and friends—or he could sign the measure, and possibly cashier his political future.  Rana Sampson, the mayor’s Jewish wife, was at his side when he announced his decision, symbolizing that this was indeed an issue that tore at his family.  His daughter was not present at the news conference.

In the afternoon, Rabbi Leslie Lipson, dean of Judaic Studies at San Diego Jewish Academy was interviewed on the subject by the students I teach in the journalism class.  He explained that in Judaism, marriage is not simply a living arrangement, it is the acquisition of sacred obligations.

For Orthodox Jews, he said, there is consensus that a marriage between homosexuals simply cannot meet the test of sacredness.  The Bible (Leviticus) says that a man cannot lie with another man as he would a woman.  As marriages are consummated through an act of sexual intercourse, they cannot be both sacred and homosexual, according to the Orthodox viewpoint.  In answer to a question, he said the prohibition applies equally to marriages between women.

For Reform Jews, who do not consider themselves bound by Jewish law (halacha), the issue is also clear.  The constitutional doctrine that all people are entitled to equal protection under the law means that gay people ought not to be denied any right extended to heterosexual people.  This includes marriage.

Lipson said that for Conservative Jews like himself, the issue is anything but clear.  What does the Torah mean when it says a man shouldn’t lie with another man as he would a woman?  Is this a prohibition of any sexual activity between men, or only certain kinds of activity?  How should the text be interpreted?  He said some rabbis have suggested that the Torah wasn’t talking about two people who live together in a committed, monogamous relationship; it was talking about people who engage in casual sex.

However, he said, he personally reads the prohibition more literally.  He said his understanding of Judaism is that whereas men are not prohibited from  having gay feelings—or even in engaging in intimate activities that are different from sexual intercourse, such as hand-holding, kissing, walking arm in arm—the Torah clearly draws the line when it comes to two men having intercourse.

Lipson said he knows a gay rabbi who otherwise is very observant of Torah law.  When the City of San Francisco briefly challenged state law by issuing marriage certificates to gay couples, the rabbi’s partner suggested that they go through a marriage ceremony.  But the gay rabbi refused, explaining that the Torah reserved marriage for heterosexual couples.  As neither of them was a woman, the gay rabbi said they should be satisfied with having a civil union—in which couples can enter a binding contract dealing with such issues as joint property, child custody, and the like.

Until his emotional news conference, that was the solution that San Diego’s mayor had favored for gay couples: civil unions in which the state recognizes that the two partners have taken on binding obligations to each other.

So, suppose you were in the ring and had to wrestle with the issue.  What would you do?

As for myself, I believe that no matter what Judaism or any other religion may teach about homosexual marriages, the constitutional doctrine of separation of church and state ought to apply.  If Orthodox Jews or Evangelical Christians or fervent Muslims don’t want homosexual marriages, no one is forcing any of them to enter into one.  They can observe the teachings of their religion without any interference from the rest of us. 

On the other hand, if people want to be married outside of religion—and that is why we have civil marriage ceremonies in this country—then they should be permitted to do so, as a simple matter of civil rights.




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Jerusalem Diaries          Judy Lash Balint

Sights and sounds in the Holy City always fascinate during Days of Awe

JERUSALEM—The Days of Awe are drawing to their climactic conclusion, and signs of the impending Day of Judgment may be seen all over the country.

In the days before Yom Kippur, thousands of Torah observant Israelis rush to finish the ritual of kapparot, where human sins are symbolically transferred to a fowl--generally a chicken. It's a custom that does not appear anywhere in the Talmud, but whose origin seems to come courtesy of several 9th century rabbis.

In a parking lot near Jerusalem's Machane Yehuda market, dozens of live chickens are whirled above the heads of men, women and children while a pronouncement is made declaring: "This is my substitute, my vicarious offering, my atonement: This chicken will meet its fate while I will proceed to a good, long life of peace." The chickens are then donated to the needy or redeemed with money that goes to the poor. Meantime, members of the Anonymous Animal Rights Group protest the practice of kapparot as cruelty to animals.

Meanwhile, hundreds of curious secular Israelis take part in pre-dawn Selichot tours, where they look in on dozens of congregations where the faithful are immersed in penitential prayers chanted to ancient melodies.

In the streets later in the day, men hurry along with towels to the nearest mikveh (ritual bath). Many have already started building their sukkot (booths) in readiness for Sukkot, the one-week festival that starts the week after Yom Kippur. The structures of Sukkot of all kinds have sprung up on balconies, street corners and in front of cafes. The final decorations and the schach covering will be added right after the conclusion of Yom Kippur.

The busiest kiosks on the streets are those selling shoes made from fabric or plastic—to comply with the prohibition against wearing leather on Yom Kippur.

The strains of chazanut waft out of many windows, as many radio and TV stations broadcast operatic renditions of the well-known Yom Kippur prayers in a variety of styles. Almost every radio and TV channel also features a physician prescribing pre-fast measures to stave off headaches and ensure an easy fast, and advice on the best type of food with which to break the fast.

Many of the rabbis providing commentary on Yom Kippur in the Israeli media emphasize the festive nature of the day—not only the obvious solemnity. Be happy, we're told, that God grants us this grand opportunity to get a new lease on life—the possibility of teshuva (return) shows that Judaism is optimistic and forward-looking and allows for the reformulation of both our interpersonal relationships and our relationship with God. Singing and dancing are the de rigueur ways in which many congregations here, especially those at yeshivot, end the Yom Kippur day, expressing joy at the soul having been uplifted.

Non-observant Israelis are also getting ready for Yom Kippur. As the one day in the year when TV and radio shuts down, they're looking for entertainment. A woman in a halter top and shorts stops at my local newspaper stand to buy three books of crossword puzzles. Video stores are doing brisk business, and bicycle shops are working overtime. There are virtually no motor vehicles on the streets of Israel on Yom Kippur, so it's become a traditional time for mass outings on bikes—new and old. Kids and adults enjoy the one-time freedom of movement for two-wheeled transportation.

There's also the obligatory rehash of stories from the 1973 Yom Kippur War in the press. Every year, commentators review the intelligence failures and questionable political decisions that brought Israel to the brink. "The War That Never Ends," blares the headline of the Magazine section of Haaretz, in a lead-in to an article about a Yom Kippur War vet suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder who finally committed himself to a psychiatric ward after more than 30 years of agony. This year, in the wake of intense public criticism of the Olmert administration from many quarters, there are even more calls for a “cheshbon nefesh”—soul-searching accountability—from our leaders.

As the siren sounds marking the start of the Day of Reckoning, and the reports of the Iranian and Syrian threat are quieted for at least 25 hours, you may be sure that our prayers will include a plea for a better year than the one before it. Beyond that, who knows?