Rabbi Deena:
Welcome to The Morning Scroll! I'm Rabbi Deena Cowans from Mishkan Chicago and you're listening to what will be a quick dive into this week's parsha. If you’ve been meaning to brush up on your Jewish literacy, or you’re looking for some inspiration, you’ve come to the right place. This week, we read Parashat Kedoshim, “holiness”, which contains some of the most beautiful and some of the most troubling lines in the Torah, in my opinion. We’ll start with a brief recap:
“Be holy because I am holy,” God says, and then gives some examples of how to do that: honoring parents, observing shabbat, not worshiping idols, not eating sacrifice leftovers, leaving the corners of your field for the needy, not lying or cheating, not withholding wages, not misleading others, ensuring justice, not gossiping or ignoring another person’s struggles, not bearing grudges or taking revenge, etc. We also learn not to mix crops in a field, wear a garment with linen and wool woven together, or crossbreed animals. Then, we get the laws of orlah, which teach us not to eat the fruit of a sapling for the first three years of its life, and are told not to engage in witchcraft or tattoo our bodies. We are again reminded to observe shabbat and respect Torah and the elderly, to love converts and be honest in business, not to engage in human or child sacrifice, or curse your parents. We also get one of the laws that troubles us most now- the seeming prohibition of sex between two people of the same gender. The parsha ends with a reminder to only eat kosher food, and to strive to be holy.
As I said in the intro, some of this stuff is beautiful and inspiring, but I also want to make space for the deep hurt that the law that appears to prohibit same gender sex, has caused, and continues to cause by people who use the claim of religion to enact bigoted laws and policies. So I invited Rabbi Steven to talk to us about how he makes sense of this hurtful part of the Torah. Over to you, R’ Steven.
Rabbi Steven:
Thank you, R’Deena.
The verses we find in Kedoshim, particularly those that speak to sex and sexuality, are some of the most painful we find in the Torah. Embedded within the prohibitions against incest, sexual assault, and bestiality is the statement “if a man lies with another man, as one might lie with a woman, they have done a toevah - an abhorrent thing; they shall be put to death, their bloodguilt is upon them.” Most, if not all, queer folks raised in the Jewish or Christian traditions are familiar with Leviticus 20:13 which has been used, along with its companion text of Leviticus 18:22, to discriminate against and enact violence upon the LGBTQ+ community. They have provided the scaffolding for homophobic and transphobic legislation, such as the anti-sodomy lies that were in place in this country until 2003, and the justification to forcibly change peoples’ sexual orientation through so-called “conversion therapy.”
Although we are an interpretive and evolving tradition (clearly we no longer practice Biblical Judaism), it is difficult to ignore explicit prohibitions stated in the Torah. Progressive Judaism has responded to this verse by attempting to limit its scope or reinterpret its meaning through a better understanding of history and context. This is something our tradition has done for millennia with verses from the Torah that no longer meet our ethical standards (such as the prescription to kill defiant children). For example, because the verse only names men and draws a parallel with vaginal intercourse, some have understood Leviticus 20:13 to only apply to anal sex - rather than the many forms of physical and emotional affection that you would find in an intimate relationship. Others have seen its placement within a series of prohibitions against incest and rape, which are expressions of power and dominance rather than desire and respect, as an edict against same-gender sexual violence. And some point to the historic context of when these verses were written, when pederasty - an often formalized sexual relationship between a male adult and an underage, non-consenting boy - was commonplace in neighboring cultures; by prohibiting these unequal arrangements, Judaism further differentiated itself from other communities.
The truth is that no matter how we interpret them, these are ugly verses - made uglier by the way they have been used to enact religious, social, and bodily harm on queer people for thousands of years. Yet in their ugliness, I see an invitation to become co-creators in the perfection of our ethical tradition. Whether we believe that the entire Torah was handed to Moses at Mount Sinai or we understand it to be the culmination of many authors over just as many centuries, we have inherited an imperfect text. Its brokenness, found in verses like Leviticus 20:13, not only asks but demands that we use our moral compass to challenge and reshape Judaism for the better. As I said before, we are an evolving and interpretive tradition; this work is ongoing, and each of us is an essential part of the process. And in its imperfection, Judaism also welcomes us, all of us - as both our best selves and as people with broken bits and rough edges. So next time we encounter texts like this, know that you are not only invited but empowered to engage with it, wrestle with it, and use what you know to be true to find new, creative ways to better our people and our tradition.