[When I submitted this paper to the committee, I also enclosed the following for distribution to colleagues:
It never ceases to amaze me how fundamentalist some liberal Jews become when faced with the question of homosexuality: It is to'evah, it is a sexual transgression punishable by death! Why doesn't the same enthusiasm carry over to other Toraitic capital offenses, such as carrying on Shabbat, adultery, insulting one's parents, fornication? And where is our zeal to combat the to'evah of eating pork, to say nothing of the to'evah of a woman remarrying her first husband after having been married to a second?1
Modern Jews who invoke a supposed literal reading of Lev. 18:22 and 20:13 as grounds for the condemnation of gay and lesbian relations today are patently tendentious in two ways.
Ploni provides an example of the first way when he asserts as "fact" that the Torah "condemns homosexuality, for example, but not homosexuals." The fact has been demonstrated over and over again in current scholarship on sexuality, the construction of gender, and the history and culture of the ancient world, that in the ancient near east as well as in the Greco-Roman world, sexuality -- homosexual or heterosexual -- was not understood as an orientation at all, but rather as comprising a wide spectrum of acts, any of which anyone might choose to engage in to obtain gratification. The proper form of sexual gratification for any given person was determined not by that person's nature (using that term loosely) but by what was appropriate for that person's social status. Proper gratification was limited for women, children, and slaves and was most widely available to free adult males.2 There is no evidence that a heterosexual or homosexual orientation was recognized as such. Therefore the Torah could not have condemned homosexual acts but not homosexuals; it had no concept of "a homosexual" as such.
Second, the passages in question speak only of homosexual relations between men. They say nothing about homosexual relations between women.3 Yet I have never found anyone willing to conclude on this basis that according to the Torah lesbian relations are not forbidden, and therefore might be acceptable. This demonstrates to me that what is operative is not a concern for Jewish tradition, but a deeper discomfort with sexual difference.
Almost no one has questioned why the Torah prohibits sexual acts between men but not between women. Two obvious explanations immediately come to mind, however. One centers on procreation: Ancient Israelites may have believed, as many other cultures have, that semen actually contained tiny homunculi, complete human beings which simply grew into babies when planted in a woman's uterus. In this context, sexual relations between women, which involve no semen, are irrelevant. The other possible explanation is that male-oriented Israelite society simply did not consider a sexual act to have taken place unless a penis was involved. (This certainly seems to be a major consideration for rabbinic law, as we will see.) Modern opponents of homosexuality appear to have become stricter than the Torah in their condemnations: I don't hear anyone suggesting that despite Toraitic prohibitions of male-male relations, we can safely accept lesbian couples since they are not violating anything in the Torah. Whatever the reason, the absence of any reference to women makes it clear that the Torah's language cannot simply be read by moderns as a blanket condemnation of homosexual relations per se.4
Some modern Jews also assert that while homosexuality in and of itself is not wrong, it is wrong for Jews, since the Torah knew of it in connection with Canaanite worship and prohibited it for that reason,5 and therefore for modern Jews to accept homosexuals would be to compromise our pure monotheistic holiness. Again, the same objection holds true: the Torah was written with a greatly different understanding of human sexuality than ours. To condemn homosexuality today because homosexual acts were among the sexual acts performed by devotees of Canaanite religions in a religious context makes no more sense than to condemn heterosexual acts because they were also performed in Canaanite cults.
The rabbinic prohibitions of homosexual relations between men are well-known, and I will not repeat them here. Concerning women, the Talmud states:
Rav Huna said: Women who commit lewdness with each other are disqualified from being married to a kohen. This is so even according to the opinion of Rabbi Elazar, who said: A single man who has intercourse with a single woman renders her a whore (zonah) [and therefore disqualified from marrying a kohen]. These words apply only to [when] a man [is involved]; when [only] a woman [is involved], it is merely licentiousness.6
On the basis of the last statement Maimonides rules that lesbian relations do not disqualify a woman from marriage to a kohen:
It is forbidden for women to commit lewdness with one another. This is one of the "practices of Egypt" concerning which we were warned, as it is said, "'You shall not copy the practices of the Egyptians' -- Said our sages, What did they do? A man would marry a man and a woman, a woman; or a woman would marry two men." (Sifra to Lev. 18:3) Even though this practice is forbidden, we do not impose flogging as a penalty, since it does not have an explicit prohibition of its own and no intercourse is involved. [Italics added] Therefore they are not disqualified from marriage to a kohen on the grounds of being considered a whore, nor is woman prohibited to her husband if she has done this, for it is not a matter of z'nut. But it is appropriate to flog them for rebelliousness for violating this prohibition. And a man should take care that his wife does not do this, and should prevent women who are known to engage in such practices from coming to visit her, or her from going to visit them.7
Throughout the rabbinic discussion there is no evidence of any awareness of such a phenomenon as sexual orientation, among either men or women. A married woman engaging in lesbian relations is seen simply as a woman engaged in illicit sexual acts -- not as someone whose entire sexual and emotional being naturally draws her to seek intimacy with women rather than with men. However, since "no intercourse is involved," it is not regarded as seriously as relations between men.
Liberal Jewish authorities who rely on "tradition" to condemn homosexuality are being highly selective in their choice of "traditional" sexual morality. To mention just a few examples: Whilehalakha does not regard lesbian relations as a form of z'nut, it does, in fact, so regard heterosexual relations between a Jewish man and a non-Jewish woman.8 All female converts are traditionally presumed to be zonot.9 Nevertheless, we ignore this category when it comes time to deal with such intermarried couples. Another example: the halakha is quite casual about intercourse with a girl under the age of three years; her marital status is not in any way compromised, since the hymen is believed to grow back. She may therefore safely be married to a kohen, and no penalty is incurred by the man who had intercourse with her. Today we recognize that men who have intercourse with children are not merely engaging in sexual acts, but that they suffer from a psychological predisposition which we label a form of sexual abuse! In order to safeguard the integrity and well-being of children we deviate from halakha. Yet another example of the difference between the "traditional" view and a modern view is the question of masturbation: How many of us believe and teach that masturbation is a sin, and that adolescent boys can and should control their nocturnal emissions through pious acts such as reciting psalms?
In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that the conceptual framework within which we understand sexuality and sexual relations is irrevocably different from that of our tradition. The chasm between them is as wide as the Enlightenment. As in all matters which this committee faces, we cannot simply start quoting halakhic sources without stopping to ask ourselves about the context of those sources and its implications for their relevance.
The rabbinic tradition did not speak about homosexuality in a vacuum. What is true for ancient Israel is equally true for the era when classical rabbinic Judaism took shape. Shaye J. D. Cohen, one of the few scholars whose expertise encompasses both rabbinic Judaism and the Greco-Roman and early Christian worlds, writes:
The sort of homosexual relationships which we are encountering more and more frequently in our society and about which you are speaking, that is, stable, monogamous, loving relationships between adults of equal status -- relationships of this kind were unknown in antiquity.... Consequently, we may assume that the rabbis of antiquity did not know, and therefore were not addressing, this type of homosexual relationship.10
Without a doubt, the halakha condemns homosexual acts between men (and to a lesser extent, between women); but it knows nothing about homosexual relationships as they have emerged out of a modern understanding of sexuality and in a modern context of sexual relations between free adults of equal status.
This is not the place to review all the recent literature concerning homosexuality. Suffice it to point out that earlier efforts of the mental health profession to "cure" homosexuals, i.e., make them heterosexuals, were dismal failures. Modern psychiatry and psychology with a very few exceptions have ceased to regard homosexuality as a form of deviance or as mental illness or as a personality disorder of any sort. What accounts for this momentous paradigm shift? The recognition that sexuality is for most people a fixed orientation, and that a homosexual orientation does not in any way preclude the establishment of relationships which embody the best qualities of heterosexual relationships: love, respect, and exclusive commitment between two responsible and compatible adults.
Some might argue that the failure of mental health professionals in "curing" homosexuality is meaningless; after all, the rate of rehabilitation for child abusers and other sexual offenders is also extremely low, yet that does not mean that we let such people live freely and act on their desires. This is an incorrect conclusion. Child abusers and other sexual offenders are not engaging in sexual acts within the context of a loving, consensual, adult relationship; they are using sex as a tool of emotional and/or physical coercion. Put simply, there is no more similarity between myself and a child molester, rapist, abuser, or other sexual deviant than there is between any of you and such persons. However, the modern recognition of child abuse and other forms of sexual misconduct as largely unalterable expressions of sexuality points out the inadequacy of the halakhic construct of sexuality in the same way that recognition of heterosexual or homosexual orientation does.
Ploni and Ploni raise a number of issues which to me are tired and also offensive; yet recognizing that they express the fear of many persons who are unfamiliar with homosexuality, I will take some time to respond to their concerns.
1. The attempt to "normalize" homosexual relationships and put them on a par with marriage between a man and a woman is unprecedented in modern history. This is true. So what? In 1789 Americans could well have argued that putting Jews on a par with Christians with regard to citizenship was unprecedented. I point out once again that in the 20th century we have come to new understandings concerning homosexuality which are equally unprecedented. I am not arguing that this is not a change; I am arguing that it is a necessary and a moral change.
Ploni notes that "we are way out in front of our people on this issue," and says that his congregants largely oppose it. I suspect that to a large extent we are likely to get from our congregants and our communities the feedback we desire. My former congregation was quite supportive when my partner and I held our commitment ceremony there three years ago, and in my present position I have yet to experience any negative feedback from students or their parents, though I have received much support and positive feedback.
Ploni also says that "we have come a long way on this issue in a very short time." True. The civil rights movement also came a very long way in a very short time. Just because social change happens rapidly doesn't mean it is bad, or that by endorsing it we are mindlessly jumping on a bandwagon. It may feel to you that change is too rapid; but for those of us who spent years believing that there was something wrong with us because of who we are, who have been the victims of harassment and hatred, who are estranged from our families because our loved ones are not welcome at family simchas or to stay under our parents' roof, who forfeit opportunities for career advancement because they would place us in too public a position, it is not too rapid. This is not exaggeration; this is my own experience.
Furthermore, it feels like rapid change to those who are confronting the issues for the first time, because every time you get used to one incremental change, it seems to you that there is yet another demand, that the ante is raised again. I'm sure that is what it felt like to white people in the first decade of the civil rights movement. But those who have been victimized in so many different ways cannot be expected to accept less than full rectification. And, as in the civil rights movement, if we wait around until people feel that they are completely ready for change, nothing will ever happen.
2. We don't know what "causes" homosexuality. There is not a single known cause. We need to know how much is choice and how much is constitutional. Well, we don't know what "causes" heterosexuality, either. In other words, we don't understand the etiology of sexuality, period. So why presume that simply because a minority of people are drawn to members of their own sex, that this is something wrong, or in need of additional explanation? Until recently it was also assumed that there was something wrong with being left-handed, because it was different than the majority pattern of right-handedness. (Consider the origin of the terms "gauche" and "sinister.") In some cultures -- Japan, for example -- lefties were seen as tainted, as persons to be shunned, and certainly as less desirable marriage partners. Yet today we no longer turn left-handed children into stutterers by forcing them to write and perform other tasks with their right hands.
What is behind this objection is the fear that someone who is really heterosexual will "decide" to be a homosexual. This argument always boggles my mind. Could you choose to become homosexual? Does a person simply wake up one day and decide to change the object of his or her search for intimacy from one sex to the other? If so, there would be a lot fewer gays and lesbians in our society! What sane person would choose to live and behave in a way which brings down on him or her so much social condemnation?
These days in some circles it is very trendy to declare oneself bisexual and to act on it. But to blame this on increased societal acceptance of homosexuality is to miss the real culprit, and that is a society in which casual sex is not only accepted but glorified. It is more similar to the ancient world's smorgasbord view of sexuality than to a standard which advocates monogamous commitment. Nevertheless it is true that there are some few people who are sufficiently capable of emotional and physical attraction to either sex, so much so that they can truly be called bisexual. You are clearly afraid that some of these very few people who "could" marry heterosexually, might instead make a homosexual commitment. To these few people let us assert that the Jewish norm remains the heterosexual union.
I am troubled by the fact that there is no concern expressed here for the far more numerous instances of the homosexual who is driven by social pressure into heterosexual relationships. I cannot forget the Hasid who used to call me from a pay phone in tears of despair on the nights when his wife came home from the mikveh. He has produced a number of children -- and one horribly unhappy marriage which I will not begin to describe to you. Is that what you would prefer to see? Although marriage in our community is not arranged as rigidly as in his, nevertheless there are fearsome social pressures on gay and lesbian Jews. The surest result of forcing gays and lesbians into heterosexual marriage is great unhappiness and its immoral and degrading by-product, the search for sexual contact outside marriage.
3. Giving legitimacy to homosexual relations might lead to an increase in homosexuality among young people, with more teens exploring their homosexual fantasies. There are two distinct issues here: One is homosexuality and the other is teens engaging in experimentation with homosexual acts. They are not the same thing.
Contrary to Ploni's fears, the problem is not that teens will become seduced into homosexuality in droves. The real problem is just the opposite. There is overwhelming pressure on teens to engage in heterosexual social life. Discovering that one is gay or lesbian is the single greatest cause of suicide among teens in the U. S. today. If we could legitimate homosexuality sufficiently, we could cut the suicide rate among teenagers by one-third. Sexuality is generally fixed for the vast majority of people by the time they reach adolescence; giving legitimacy to homosexuality will not produce hordes of would-have-been-heterosexuals. But it will eliminate a cause of deep suffering among many young people.
Yes, it is likely that as homosexuality is less stigmatized, some heterosexual people -- young and old -- will at some point find themselves in situations where they are tempted to engage in homosexual sex. Is it an aveira? Yes. A one-night stand is a one-night stand. Are we loosing the floodgates on this sort of aveira by recognizing that some people are homosexuals? No.
Certainly there are young people who are uncertain of their sexual orientation. Most of those who say they are uncertain are, in fact, in the process of "coming out;" uncertainty is a frequent cover for the difficult process of realizing that one is not who one is supposed to be. But there are some few who establish gay or lesbian relationships for a period of months or years and then come to know themselves well enough to recognize their heterosexuality. The question is whether one thinks that this is such a terrible situation that it justifies continuing to delegitimize homosexuality, thereby causing great suffering to far more other individuals. I think not.
4. "Considering the many unknowns concerning homosexuality and the affect [sic] of normalizing it would have on society, ...it is time to build a fence and protect the Torah and our traditional ideals of morality, marriage and family." When I hear statements like this I hear not the voice of reason, but the voice of emotional confusion, the voice of fear and despair over the complexities of the modern world, expressed in a simplistic desire to return to an imagined idyllic past in which everything was simple and right. Pat Robertson and Ralph Reed couldn't have said it better. Indeed, though many of Judaism's "traditional ideals of morality, marriage, and family" are deeply offensive to us liberal Jews, the truth is that no one is challenging a commitment to morality, marriage, and family. Heterosexual Jews should get married to other heterosexual Jews and should have children whom they raise as Jews. The question is, what about those Jews for whom being heterosexual is not an option?11
Homosexuality, as distinct from homosexual acts, is an orientation, just as heterosexuality is. "Constitutional" homosexuals are not mentally ill, they are not social deviants, they are not acting "perversely" in order to obtain some weird form of sexual gratification. We are acting, when we act on our desires for love and intimacy, as "normally" as "normal," i.e., heterosexual, people.
If homosexuality is neither a consciously performed set of illicit sexual behaviors nor a form of mental illness, then what is it? If a Jew seeks to achieve a relationship of intimacy with a member of the same sex, how are we to comprehend (in both senses of the word) that activity? What moral and social framework shall we employ? One of the essential functions of any religious tradition, and certainly of ours, is that of establishing order, of putting people and things and phenomena in their proper categories and their proper place in the grand scheme of things. What is the proper place for same-sex relationships in our Judaism? It is not sufficient simply to say that a gay or lesbian person is neither a sinner nor a psychotic. If we say that it is acceptable for a person to be a homosexual, then what are we to say about that person's actions as such? Certainly we would have no difficulty in setting limits and declaring certain actions out of bounds: It is wrong for such a person to engage in relations with a minor because it is by definition an exploitative situation;12 it is wrong for such a person to engage in relations with a married person because it is a violation of the kiddushin to which that person is committed (and if the married person is constitutionally heterosexual, this would constitute for him or her a sexual transgression); it is wrong for such a person to use violence or the threat of violence to obtain sex. But what are the guidelines under which a Jew whose natural desire for intimacy is expressed with members of the same sex, is supposed to conduct his or her relationships?
Some might say that it is never appropriate for a Jew to act on his or her desire for intimacy, if what is being sought is homosexual intimacy. The orientation is not wrong but the act is. This is more or less the position of the Roman Catholic Church. (My Catholic colleague in the chaplaincy here insists that this is simply part of the Church's condemnation of all extra-marital and non-marital sexual activity, and not a condemnation of homosexuality or homosexual acts per se.) However, it runs counter to Jewish values. Our authorities have generally rejected the notion that the sole purpose of sexual activity is procreation, and that non-procreative sex is therefore wrong; rather, they have understood sex as an essential component of the human need for intimacy. We do not forbid or even disparage sexual relations within a marriage on the grounds that the couple is not fertile. Our authorities have sought ways to control and discipline the sexual urge, precisely because it is such a powerful human drive; but they have not attempted simply to forbid its expression.13 If we take the step of accepting the legitimacy of someone's being a homosexual, we cannot, in a Jewish context, deny them the possibility of ever finding the appropriate fulfillment for their need for intimacy. We may, however, delimit the socially and morally acceptable ways in which they may seek sexual gratification, just as we do for heterosexuals.
The opinion has also been expressed that homosexual relations are so far beyond the pale of Jewish "tradition" that there is simply nothing we can say about their conduct, even if we allow that homosexual Jews should have the opportunity to seek satisfaction of their human need for intimacy. This is not an acceptable response. First of all, much of our modern Jewish life is beyond the pale of Jewish tradition. What "traditional" Jewish authority ever had to rule, for example, on the role of the non-Jew in the synagogue, or on the acceptability of female rabbis or cantors? But more importantly, since when has a rabbinic body, faced with a question concerning the lives of Jews, simply said that Torah had nothing to say on the matter? This may have been an acceptable answer for a Sadducee, but are we willing to say that there is anything on which Torah cannot and does not guide us?
In fact, shouldn't Jewish gays and lesbians be expected to conform to the same standards of sexual morality as Jewish heterosexuals? That is, should we not also be expected to refrain from abusive or exploitive sexual contacts and from promiscuous behavior? And should we not also be expected to have as the ideal toward which we aspire in the realm of personal intimacy, the establishment of a loving, permanent relationship with another Jew? That is to say, just as we regard committed, monogamous relationships between two heterosexual Jews as our ideal heterosexual relationship, should we not regard committed, monogamous relationships between two homosexual Jews as our ideal homosexual relationship? And should this not include the right -- rather, the responsibility -- to live as committed couples in a publicly recognized social institution? That is, shouldn't gays and lesbians be allowed -- and expected -- to "marry?"
Like other species, human beings reproduce. Human children, like the young of other species, are most likely to survive when there are adults looking after their physical needs. It may be innate behavior for animal species -- including humans -- to care for their young, but human societies do not equate procreation and child-rearing with marriage. Marriage is a social institution. It means that the relationship between two individuals has been publicly acknowledged and sanctioned by the group.14 Marriage is first and foremost the social institution which regulates procreation. Procreation between certain individuals is good; between certain other individuals, although biologically possible, it is bad. Marriage further determines the status of offspring, the key to regulating the orderly transfer of property. The impossibility of ascertaining paternity biologically prior to the 20th century led many societies, including ancient Israel, to impose strict social controls on women, to ensure that a woman's only sexual partner was the man to whom she legitimately belonged. The institution of marriage therefore also regulates the sexual conduct of women and of men (though not always). It also establishes the responsibilities of adults toward their offspring and, often, vice versa.
For much of recorded human history the family (variously defined and constituted) has been not only the basic social unit as described above but also the basic economic unit. Prior to the advent of modern technological society few human beings were economically self-sustaining as individuals, and if not all workplaces were homes, certainly the vast majority of homes were workplaces to some degree. Thus marriage inevitably was also an economic institution.
Finally, for a host of reasons ranging from the ubiquity of war, famine, and instability to limited technology which largely prevented, until recently, the emergence of effective states and governments beyond the local level, the family, as a social unit defined by both blood kinship and the social bonds of marriage, was the basic unit of social security.
Since procreation was both necessary (to provide sufficient labor to make the family economically viable and to provide security for aged parents) and -- until recently -- inevitable; and since economic conditions made it virtually impossible for human beings to sustain themselves apart from a social and economic unit; and since until recently the family was the most common and dependable form of social and economic security, marriage was generally conceived of and arranged as a means for maximizing the benefits within this system. The important features of marriage historically have been that the couple (i.e., the woman) be fertile and that the marriage be economically viable. A frequent additional consideration has been that the marriage be socially advantageous in some way to one or both partners and their families.
Given all these needs, it is not surprising that romantic love, while clearly a cross-cultural desideratum, has rarely been the crucial factor it is in modern western civilization.
All the foregoing concerns are reflected in the Torah's narratives and laws regarding marriage. Genesis 1 emphasizes human beings' procreativity within the context of the larger natural world and its procreativeness. Genesis 2-3 have a more societally-oriented perspective: the man and the woman are seen first as companions and only afterward as procreators.15 The narratives in Genesis demonstrate that marriage was a crucially important social institution: It provided for the orderly transfer of property by providing legitimate heirs16 and by creating children it formed the basic unit of social support and protection.17 In ancient Israel as everywhere else, the family was an economic unit, as is amply demonstrated by so many of the Torah's laws. Affection and love were clearly recognized as values, the love of Jacob and Rachel being the most obvious example. Yet even that tale subsumes romantic love to a more important value, for Jacob fortuitously (or by divine providence) falls in love with a daughter of the appropriate family. Fortunately for him and Rachel, there was love, but the important thing is that he married the daughter(s) of Laban. (Doubtless the unhappiness of Leah also reflected reality.18)
The halakha's concerns are the same as those of the Torah: legal procreation, the control of bloodlines through the strict control of female sexuality,19 the orderly transfer of property, and economic security. The halakhic emphasis on procreation is further evidence of what marriage meant to the rabbis of the classical period. Procreation was regarded as a male's obligation. A man who has not fulfilled that obligation is not to marry a woman incapable of bearing children. If a couple remained childless for ten years, the husband was required to divorce his wife and marry another.20
Though it makes some people uncomfortable, nevertheless it is obvious that the rabbinic understanding of the concept of kiddushin had far more to do with these concerns than with expressing a relationship of mutual love or holiness or spirituality or any such sentiment which we today value so highly. It is not incidental that the first chapter of tractate Kiddushin discusses first the acquisition of a woman and immediately thereafter the acquisition of a slave: neither is a relationship of equals, and neither is a relationship in which emotional fulfillment is necessarily an expectation. Nor is it incidental that the Mishnah uses the phrase konah et atzmah to describe her exit from the marital relationship. Classical Judaism defined the essence of marriage as the exclusive use of a woman (a woman's sexuality, in particular) by a man. This is the basic meaning of the root k-d-sh -- just as that which was donated for the exclusive use of the Temple or the priests was called kodesh or hekdesh.21
Certainly classical Judaism certainly valued the quality of the marital relationship; we are all familiar with the countless aggadic statements of the rabbis concerning the importance of good relations between husbands and wives. Nor are these merely pious sentiments; there are numerous halakhic strictures governing the relationship of partners in a marriage that reflect a deep care and concern for the humanity of both partners.22 However, while halakha allows for some degree of concern for personal compatibility,23 it certainly does not allow for the process of "falling in love and establishing a relationship" which has become the norm in our culture, even for "modern Orthodox" Jews. (Check out Lincoln Square Synagogue on a Shabbat morning.) Furthermore, there are instances in which the halakhic view of a proper marriage diverges widely from consideration of the couple's relationship.24
In short, marriage as understood by the rabbinic tradition and marriage as it exists among modern non-haredi Jews share certain elements but differ widely in others. The two also differ greatly in the relative emphasis placed on various elements of marriage. The most blatant difference is that marriages are no longer arranged by parents in order to ensure the economic and social security of their children. Rather, marriage is the result of a relationship of love and companionship created by two individuals who seek to establish a life together. In the traditional view it was a given that the couple would live their lives according to a certain pattern. We can only expect (or hope) that two Jews who seek to establish a life together will do so according to a pattern which expresses Jewish values. That is to say, we expect that two Jews will establish a marriage in which their home is a Jewish home;25 their treatment of each other is according to standards of respect which are in accordance with Jewish tradition; and in which if they possibly can, they will produce and raise Jewish children.
Gay and lesbian Jewish couples can do all that. So why can't there be "marriage" for gay and lesbian Jews?
First of all, a large part of the problem here is purely emotional. Talking about "gay marriage" raises discomfort and inchoate fears in many people's minds, the way that "women rabbis" did 25 years ago.26 What it really means is that the idea seems strange or unfamiliar, or upsets our comfort level because it is so different from anything we have seen. I remember vividly the first time I sat in a congregation and listened to another woman lead the davening: Even though I had already been doing it myself for more than a year, it felt "wrong," simply because it was something I had never seen or experienced.
Particularly with regard to sexuality, such a complex area of human psychology and activity, strong feelings are likely to arise over many issues. Some might argue that the discomfort of heterosexuals when faced with evidence of homosexuality is itself proof that there is something wrong with homosexuality; I would argue that it indicates nothing more than lack of familiarity.27 The members of this committee should take some time to reflect on to what extent their negative reactions, and those of people around them, are simply the result of their lack of contact with gays and lesbians. By "lack of contact" I do not mean absence of personal acquaintance; at the very least, you are all acquainted with me, at least in cyberspace. But allow me to speak quite frankly. Many heterosexuals who sincerely believe that they have no biases against gays react negatively or with discomfort when they see gay people engaging in public displays of affection which are considered perfectly acceptable between a man and a woman: holding hands, kissing each other shabbat shalom, dancing together, and so forth. (Again, I remember when I started attending the gay synagogue in New York: It was more than a decade since I had "come out," yet in that time I had rarely been around gay men, and actually seeing them made me uncomfortable at first.) Al achat kama v'khama when even in discussion, tzni'ut notwithstanding, one is reminded that gay and lesbian couples engage in sexual activity. It is difficult for many heterosexuals to remain objective about the propriety and dignity of sexual activity which they find personally distasteful. This discomfort is reinforced by a number of social factors, such as the fact that while we are deluged in books, movies, art, and popular culture with images of heterosexual activity, there is very little representation of homosexual activity (and what there is, is often pornographic or automatically labeled as such).
Aside from this question of discomfort, a number of explicit objections have been raised to rabbinic recognition of same-sex unions. One is that "economic injustices can be taken care of without reference to marriage." True; this is what is usually referred to as "domestic partner" legislation. But this argument is terribly disingenuous at best. Given the separation between the religious and civil realms within which we live, the question of recognizing same-sex relationships is necessarily being fought in two realms. Whether or not the CCAR allows rabbinic officiation at same-sex ceremonies will have no impact on whether or not I can cover my partner on my health insurance, or whether I will be allowed to file a tax return which reflects the fact that my salary is supporting two people, not one. Likewise, gay and lesbian Jews are not raising the question of a Jewish ritual in order to get health insurance coverage. We are raising the question because marriage as a socio-religious institution means the legitimation, the validation, the acceptance -- whatever you want to call it -- of a relationship between two individuals in the context which is ultimately most important to them. As a Jew, a Jewish ceremony is terribly important to me even though it has no impact whatsoever on my standing vis-a-vis the IRS.
Numerous people have objected that recognition of same-sex couples is no different than recognition of intermarried couples, and that we cannot do one and not the other. This, too, is incorrect. The element of choice is present in one situation but not the other. Jews, heterosexual or homosexual, have a choice whether or not to seek intimacy with non-Jews. Homosexual Jews do not have a choice to seek intimacy in a heterosexual context.
Ploni says that homosexuality may not be sin, but it is not "celebration," either; that if our "ideal" remains "procreative, heterosexual marriage," then we cannot celebrate less-than-ideal relationships. This appears to me to be a misreading of the term "ideal." When the CCAR adopted the 1990 report stating that "heterosexual, monogamous, procreative marriage" remains the "ideal human relationship" for Jews, were we asserting that a heterosexual couple who we know cannot have children cannot be "celebrated," since their relationship is less than "ideal?" What about a heterosexual couple who say that they do not intend to have children? It is meaningless to speak of an ideal with respect to those who cannot possibly attain it, and equally meaningless to declare them deficient on the basis of that ideal. This statement only makes sense if we read "ideal" in the sense of "normative." Certainly heterosexual, procreative marriage has been, and should remain, the Jewish norm. But what about those to whom this norm will never apply? Why should their unions not also be recognized and sanctified?
Gates of Mitzvah contains the following essay on kiddushin:
Nothing clarifies the Jewish attitude toward marriage quite as well as the traditional name for the wedding ceremony, Kiddushin, derived from the Hebrew kadosh -- holy....
In the outlook of Judaism, all existence is derived originally from God and is, therefore, potentially holy....
Humanity lives, however, not only in the dimensions of time and space, but also, from birth, in the dimension of relationship. And while all relationships, like all time and space, should be considered essentially sacred, certain relationships are especially exalted. In Judaism the Holy of Holies of all relationships, to which the poetic genius of the Hebraic spirit turned most often for the paradigm of the covenant between God and Israel, was and is the covenant between husband and wife.... A sacred entity comes into being in Jewish marriage. As in the Kiddush of Shabbat we set apart a period of time as holy, in Kiddushin husband and wife set each other apart....
In the Jewish marriage service, in the very act of consecrating a particular relationship as holy, the potential sanctity of all relationship is asserted. Husband and wife represent the bond between God and humanity, the ideal toward which all human relationships should strive. Kiddushin is the rooting of the human in the realm of the sacred, with the goal that all our relationships become holy, bearing the blossom and fruit of life.
A Jewish marriage, then, takes place when a man and a woman... [say] to [each] other: "Behold you are consecrated to me... according to the tradition of Moses and Israel." It is as if each were saying to the other: "I will do everything that I can to make our relationship sacred."28
The essence of kiddushin is "setting apart;" departing from tradition, we assert that this setting apart is a reciprocal act, that a couple are set apart for each other and not merely a woman set apart for her husband's exclusive use. Certainly in this sense gay and lesbian couples are kadosh for each other.
Does the hallowed covenantal symbolism drawing the parallel between husband and wife and God and Israel preclude the inclusion of gay couples among holy relationships? That depends on how we read the metaphor. What aspect of the relationship is being emphasized? Are God and Israel compared to husband and wife in order to emphasize the maleness of God and the femaleness of Israel? That is patently impossible with respect to Israel, and counter to everything we try to teach about our supposedly non-corporeal, non-sexual deity. Is it the inequality of the relationship which is most significant? Certainly God is the senior partner in the covenantal relationship, just as the husband was the senior partner in traditional marriage; but we aspire to a more equal partnership in marriage. Rather, is it not the exclusivity and devotion of the marital relationship that caused Hosea, Jeremiah, and others after them to use it as a metaphor for our relationship to God?
"Setting apart," exclusivity, and devotion are only limited to heterosexual couples so long as one refuses to allow for the possibility of homosexual couples. In fact, there is nothing in the foregoing paragraphs that cannot also apply to gay and lesbian couples -- unless one takes the position that ipso facto God does not dwell with such couples.
Nevertheless, while I would argue that the union of two gay or lesbian Jews is indeed kiddushin, many people, including many gays and lesbians, are hesitant to use the term, for precisely the reason that Ploni stated: that the term is simply too intimately bound up with heterosexual marriage and with all kinds of historical meaning. The same is true in common English use, as evidenced by the currency of terms such as "union" and "commitment ceremony." Some gays and lesbians expressly do not want to use terms that have such strong heterosexual baggage; others would like to but don't, because it still feels so daring; others use the terms "marriage," "wedding," and "kiddushin."
This raises the question of what makes a wedding, a wedding. What is it that lets everyone there -- the couple involved and the community -- know that a rite of passage has been effected? This answer is multi-dimensional, and rabbis and amkha will concur in some answers and differ in others. We tend to define a wedding in terms of the technical requirements: Do they have a ketubah? Did they say the birkhot erusin and exchange something of value?29 Was the ceremony performed properly in the presence of two witnesses (and a minyan for sheva berakhot)? They tend to define it by its visual and emotional cues: Is there a huppah? Did they break a glass? Did the rabbi say something over a cup of wine? Partly because of the turmoil over intermarriage and partly because it is usually amkha who are getting married, we have also had to focus on these elements which are really minhag and not halakha. How many of us would consent to be the mesader kiddushin for a couple who refused to stand under any sort of huppah or to break a glass? And how many of us have had people say to us, concerning an intermarriage: "Rabbi, it was a real Jewish wedding: They had a huppah and they broke a glass."
Ploni is partially right when he says that whether or not we call it kiddushin, most Jews will see it as a marriage done by a rabbi, just like an intermarriage where the rabbi does not say kedat Moshe ve-Yisra'el. This reflects the dual nature of the phrase kedat Moshe ve-Yisrael, which refers both to halakhic and non-halakhic criteria.30 However, we should recognize how culture-bound and fluid of meaning this phrase actually is. Consider its likely origin in M. Ketubot 7:6:
These [women] are divorced and do not receive their ketubah: All who transgress dat Moshe ve-Yehudit. What is dat Moshe? If she feeds him untithed foods, has intercourse while niddah, does not separate the dough, and vows and does not fulfill her vow. What is dat Yehudit? If she goes out and her head is uncovered, if she spins in the market, or if she talks with strange men.
The distinction between dat Moshe and dat Yehudit is that the former refers to violations of halakha; the latter refers to violations of social norms. Yet by the time Maimonides puts it into the Mishneh Torah, he has added going out in public with hair uncovered to the violations of dat Moshe. He has also added stringency to this aspect of dat Yehudit:
What is dat Yehudit? It is the customary norm of modesty to which Jewish women adhere. These are the things which, if she violates them, she goes against dat Yehudit: If she goes out in public or in an alleyway with her head not completely covered and without the veil which women wear, even if her hair is bound in a kerchief [italics added]; if she spins in the market place and wears a flower or something similar on her forehead or on her cheek as do the licentious idolatrous women; or if she spins in the marketplace and reveals her limbs to people; or if she flirts with young men...31
What Ploni is saying is that people will see a same-sex ceremony as kedat Yisrael, whether or not it is kedat Moshe, and since it cannot be kedat Moshe, we cannot and should not do anything. However, given that kedat Yisrael, i.e., a good deal of what is "Jewish" in any given time and in any given culture, is very much in the eye of the beholder, why can that not, in this time and place, include a ceremony between two gay or lesbian Jews?32 Without a doubt, people will see it as a Jewish something, but the very fact that they won't see a man and a woman under the huppah will always be a clear reminder that this is not a "regular" Jewish wedding. (I venture to say that if non-Jews and Jews looked more visibly different, the same would be true there as well.)
In response to Ploni, I also remind my colleagues that whether or not our congregants think that words matter, we know that they do. In fact, think of all the bar and bat mitzvahs at which we allow the non-Jewish parent to be present, and even involved, in the midst of some ritual and yet to be regarded by us as not participating -- since he or she is not reciting the right words. To the uninitiated, it may well appear that the non-Jew is participating, and he or she may well draw erroneous conclusions for the future; this has been my experience. Nevertheless we do it because we know the difference, and we think it right -- or at the very least necessary -- to be inclusive to the extent that we can.
Ploni, on the other hand, argues that while we cannot have kiddushin for a gay or lesbian couple, since it would be too tendentious a rewriting of tradition, we could have some other options, as long as they don't look anything like a marriage ceremony. In other words, there may be a way within dat Moshe to give some recognition to gay and lesbian couples, but not in a public ceremony that will remotely resemble a marriage ceremony as conceived according to dat Yisrael.
Let us consider the options he mentions. One is tenai'm: a legal contract to be drawn up between the two parties, not mentioning "sexual relations or any other thing that is forbidden under Jewish law." Ploni has already said in an earlier communication that the CCAR takes a "non-pejorative stance on the nature of sexual orientation," and apparently endorses this stance. Is he then saying that he does not consider homosexual relations (between homosexuals) to be prohibited? Or is he adopting a non-pejorative stance toward something which is prohibited by the Torah? It seems to me that there is a certain inconsistency here. How can you say to someone that while their relationship is not prohibited, they may not make any mention of it in the Jewish document they are about to write up to formalize that relationship? And if you tell them that it is prohibited, then what are you doing helping them formalize it? The same is true for chanukat ha-bayit, ufruf, mi-shebeirakh, or whatever. Why should a rabbi even participate, or the synagogue be involved, if the relationship doesn't deserve to be legitimated?
Furthermore, although this point may not seem significant to this committee, it is highly doubtful that these alternative suggestions would satisfy gay and lesbian couples, since the message coming through is clearly "We will do this much for you as long as we don't have to actually acknowledge the real nature of your relationship." After all, heterosexual couples may or may not do any of these alternative rituals, but if they do, none of them actually takes the place of a formal public recognition of the relationship as such, which is what the marriage ceremony is.
From all the above my position should be quite clear. I believe that our awareness that there is such a thing as sexual orientation and that it is largely unalterable, combined with our contemporary understanding of what is an acceptable standard for an intimate relationship,33 requires us to reinterpret the traditional prohibitions concerning homosexual conduct. There is such a thing as sexual perversity, but that does not include individuals who are naturally drawn to members of their own sex for intimacy.
Gay and lesbian Jewish couples should not merely be tolerated; rather, gay and lesbian Jews should be encouraged and expected to find partners and live in committed, monogamous, (hopefully) permanent relationships, just as heterosexuals are. This does not promote homosexuality or lead to more heterosexuals somehow becoming homosexual; it does, however, reduce the number of gay and lesbian individuals who are living in unstable or promiscuous fashion.
The fact that gay and lesbian Jews are seeking to hold ceremonies establishing their relationships formally and celebrating them is not a threat to families but the ultimate tribute to the supreme importance of marriage and family. It is an importance which goes far beyond legitimating sexual relations between the partners, legitimating their offspring, or providing economic security. As I always tell couples when I marry them, by getting married they transcend the boundaries of being just two individuals. By getting married they are linking themselves to the Jewish past, present, and future, and to a series of concentric circles of family, friends, community, k'lal Yisrael around them. The wedding ceremony is that moment of magical transformation when a couple becomes a bayit be-Yisrael. I do not believe that all those layers of meaning vanish or become non-operative because the couple is homosexual.
For this reason I believe that a gay/lesbian ceremony should parallel the marriage ceremony as we know it. The differences, as I noted above, will be obvious, and not just to those who are knowledgeable enough to catch the nuances of language. For the committee's consideration, as an illustration of this, I am enclosing a copy of our ketubah and commitment ceremony, which was held three years ago.
Whether or not we employ the term kiddushin is for me a secondary issue, although I know it is not for other gay and lesbian colleagues. I would argue that there is, indeed, kedusha in gay and lesbian relationships; but even for me, personally, the term kiddushin is hard to separate from its heterosexual context. For this reason I have used the alternative term brit ahavah in discussion and in ritual.
1. We are all aware of the rapid pace of social change around us, caused primarily by the impact of dozens of new technologies introduced in an extremely short span of human history, and secondarily by the utilitarian ethos and inquisitive spirit of modern western culture. (These two have also impacted each other significantly.) No doubt it will be some centuries, at least, before some new equilibrium is reached, assuming it will be reached. In the meantime, tensions continue to be present between all forms of received authority and those whose lives are guided primarily by the currents of change. It often seems to me that we are engaged in an ongoing war of attrition, in which the goal is to minimize our losses. Do we go along with a given davar chadash? Do we resist it with all our might? Or do we seek to come to terms with it, and somehow reshape it into a form in which it can be harmonized with our received forms? To do that often leaves one feeling that one has not taken a "principled" stand, but has merely caved in to the inevitable. And, of course, this is the accusation which is inevitably hurled by those who have chosen to resist.
In the matter before us I take this third option. Barring the ascendancy of some Draconian right-wing regime such as that portrayed in Margaret Atwood's Handmaid's Tale, the presence of gay and lesbian households in our society (and in other societies, as they go through the same processes of change as the U. S. has) will be ever more normative. Among those households will be a percentage of Jews. As gays and lesbians become more and more "mainstream," attempts to characterize them as marginal, as aberrations, or as undeserving of social status will simply appear more and more ridiculous to more and more people. What is true in society as a whole will be true within the non-haredi Jewish world as well. They will join synagogues (the Conservative synagogue of which Deb and I are members gave us a family membership, without our even asking); they will send their children (see below) to religious school and to day schools; as adult Jews they will both participate in the life of the community. Sooner or later, attempts to bar the door by refusing to officiate at same-sex ceremonies will simply appear ridiculous.
2. What disturbs many heterosexuals even more than the idea of gays and lesbians celebrating their relationships is the thought of gays and lesbians having and raising children. There are far more gay and lesbian couples with children than most people outside the gay community realize. (Even here in the Syracuse area, not exactly a hotbed of gay and lesbian life, I already know of two such couples, one of whom has their son enrolled in the local day school.) Shaking our heads is not going to put a stop to it. Nor need we simply put on a bland smile and welcome every possible combination and permutation that lands on our front steps. We need instead to wrestle seriously with the question: Is there a Jewish way for Jewish gays and lesbians to be parents?
The question has more urgency because until the last decade, the vast majority of these were the children of a previous heterosexual marriage; but in the last 10 years, there has been a veritable baby boom, especially in the lesbian community, both through AI and by adoption. What, for example, is the status of a child born to a Jewish lesbian with sperm donated by an anonymous Jewish man? How about a child whose biological father is the brother of the biological mother's partner? (Shades of levirate marriage, one might say.) Before people begin shaking their heads with the horror of it all, let me point out that these situations are not necessarily any different from ones that could arise, and no doubt have already arisen, involving heterosexual Jewish couples. Is there anyone other than me on this committee who believes that we should be proactive and look into this matter before we are faced with an urgent question involving a child?
{1} The very first wedding I performed as a young assistant was, in fact, exactly such a situation. The bride was five months pregnant. My senior rabbi arranged for the wedding to be held in his study and assigned it to me. My goodness, no one even stopped to consider whether we were abetting an abominable act.
{2} An excellent and concise summary of this scholarship is found in the indispensable article by Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, "Enfranchising Monogamous Homosexuals," S'vara: A Journal of Philosophy, Law, and Judaism, Vol. 3, No. 1 (1993), pp. 20ff.
{3} Even the halakha is remarkably unconcerned about relations between women. The only issue is whether a woman who engages in such relations is prohibited from marrying a kohen. Significantly, Maimonides' comment that "a man should be careful to keep his wife from associating with women who are known to engage in such activities" tells us for certain that lesbian relations existed among Jewish women in his day.
{4} Both Judaism and Christianity have generally expressed a greater horror of male-male relations than of female-female ones. Significantly, the most severe penalties in civil law have generally been for those men who take the "passive" or "receptive" role. Special contempt has always focused on the "effeminate" homosexual man. Since the laws have been made by men until now, this obviously reflects a deep-seated fear and insecurity on the part of many men that somehow their own masculinity could be compromised. In fact, is it not possible that the Hebrew phrase ve-et zakhar lo tishkav mishkevei isha is also a reflection of this insecurity -- that it actually should be read as prohibiting a man from taking that passive or receptive role, i.e., being more like a woman?
{5} There is a debate concerning the precise meaning of kadesh in Deut. 23:18: Until recently biblical scholars were certain that it referred to a male cultic prostitute who serviced other men; but this is denied by Jacob Milgrom in the JPS Commentary to Numbers (p. 479), based on research published in the 1980's. This more recent understanding translates kadesh as an officiant or devotee of an idolatrous cult, but denies that prostitution is involved.
{6} Yevamot 76a. It is interesting to note that at least some of the commentators do not appear to have a clue as to what sort of activity might be entailed.
{7} Yad, Issurei Bi'ah 21:8. See also Shulchan Arukh EH 20:2 and Arukh Ha-Shulchan EH 20:18. For a discussion of the passage from Sifra, see Artson, pp. 22ff.
{8} Yad, h. Issurei Bi'ah 18:1: "We have learned from tradition [mi-pi ha-sh'mu'ah] that the zonah of whom the Torah speaks means any non-Jewish woman." See also Shulchan Arukh EH 6:15.
{9} Shulchan Arukh EH 6:8: "So also a convert and a manumitted slave -- even if she was converted or manumitted below the age of three -- since she was not born a Jew she is considered a harlot [zonah] and is forbidden to a kohen."
{10} Artson, p. 22. For a detailed discussion of the rabbinic midrashim on same-sex "marriage," see Artson, pp. 22ff.
{11} I emphasize the matter of choice both to underscore the fact that we are talking about sexual orientation, not sexual "preference," as some have put it, as if what is being talked about is no different than liking chocolate or vanilla or coffee ice cream; and also to distinguish the issue of homosexuality from mixed marriage. As far as I know, there exists no inherent psychological or psychobiological or whatever determination that causes a Jew to seek and find intimacy only with non-Jews! The question of whether to date non-Jews is the same one for both heterosexual and homosexual Jews who are serious about wanting Jewish partners.
{12} Here is yet another indication of how untraditional our supposed contemporary "traditional" morality is. Halakhically the penalty for two adult men engaging in homosexual relations is stoning; but in the case of a man who has relations with a boy younger than nine, there is no penalty for either of them! (Yad, Issurei Bi'ah 1:13-14).
{13} See, e.g., EH 1:8: A man who already has children should not live alone, but should marry. nevertheless, if his only financial resource is a Torah scroll, he should rather keep it and marry a woman past childbearing age [whose dowry is presumably less]. In EH 1:13 Isserles' gloss states that "some say that a woman should not remain single because of suspicion."
{14} Maimonides explains this distinction quite well in H. Ishut 1:1.
{15} Anti-gay protestors love the slogan "God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve," implying that Genesis 2-3 must be read as a prescriptive text. To follow that logic to its conclusion, we would have to insist that all men must be farmers, since God created the human being "to till and to tend" the garden, and the man was later cursed with the task of agricultural toil; and we would also have to conclude that anesthesia in childbirth is forbidden, since the woman is told that childbirth is to be painful. Clearly, this text is not prescriptive but descriptive; the story of the garden and the expulsion speaks of life as ancient Israelites knew it, not of life as it must be lived in all its specifics for all time.
{16} Gen. 15:1-3 makes this connection blatantly obvious.
{18} See Deut. 21:15-17. Significantly, the issue is not how a man treats his unloved wife, but how he treats the firstborn son of the unloved wife with regard to the transfer of property.
{19} See Judith Romney Wegner's book, Chattel or Person?, on the halakhic place of women as articulated in the Mishnah.
{20} Yad, H. Ishut 15:7-8. If the childlessness is determined to be her fault, she does not even receive her ketubah. However, see the lengthy discussion in Arukh Ha-Shulchan 1:25: While in theory this 10-year limit is in effect, it is negated for all practical purposes by the prohibition of divorcing a woman against her will, the prohibition of polygamy in halakha, and the prohibition of polygamy by civil law.
{21} All of this is brought out even more forcefully in the Gemara to this mishnah. "And what [is the significance of] the rabbis' language [in chapter two, i.e., use of the word mekadesh instead of koneh]? That he forbids her to all just like hekdesh." (Kid. 2b)
{22} To cite only one example: Marital rape was forbidden by halakha long before it was recognized as a crime under American law or its sources.
{23} Shulchan Arukh EH 37:1: "A father may betrothe his daughter without her consent as long as she is a minor," and 37:11: "It is a mitzvah not to betrothe one's minor daughter until she is old enough to say, 'I desire this one.'" However, note how Isserles' gloss ad loc. de-emphasizes personal happiness for the sake of economic and social security: "There are those who say that in our day we should betrothe our minor daughters because we are in exile, and we do not always have sufficient means for a dowry. In addition, there are very few of us and it is not always possible to find a suitable match. And this is our practice."
{24} Maimonides requires a man to divorce his childless wife after ten years even if he does not wish to divorce her. (Yad, H. Ishut 15:7-8) A kohen is also required to divorce his wife against his will if she has been raped or has committed adultery; and there are occasions on which a woman's desire for a divorce is not heeded.
{25} As the charming language of the Kushner ketubah has it, "a home open to the spiritual potential in all life A home wherein the flow of the seasons & the passages of life are celebrated through the symbols of our Jewish heritage A home filled with reverence for learning loving & generosity A home wherein ancient melody candles and wine sanctify the table A home joined ever more closely to the community of ISRAEL."
{26} The classic example of that hysteria was a 1974 article in Conservative Judaism by Dr. Mortimer Ostow, former head of pastoral psychiatry programs at JTS, who argued that since men represent authority and women represent permissiveness, having women as rabbis would open the doors to unrestrained sexual license: orgies in the aisles on Shabbat evening! He also argued that having women in the rabbinate would confuse the normal order of things for people. These arguments are not dissimilar to many of the arguments against recognition of the legitimacy of gay and lesbian relationships.
{27} Some might argue that if homosexuality were more visible in our culture, more people would become homosexuals. If cultural visibility were sufficient to change sexual orientation, then there should have been virtually no homosexuals in this country before 1975.
{28} Gates of Mitzvah pp. 123-24.
{29} Of course, one may seriously question whether our Jewish marriages are properly effected, given that we have made the exchange of rings and the accompanying statements reciprocal.
{30} It should be noted that this phrase is not sacrosanct. The Talmud gives several possible examples of what a man might say when giving something of value to a woman, in order to indicate that he is giving this to her in order to effect marriage. Our current phrase's near-sacramental force rests on its prominence in the Shulchan Arukh -- and also on the need for us, as a minority community, to set boundaries that distinguish us from the dominant culture: This is kedat Moshe ve-Yisrael, that is not.
{32} See Brad Artson's discussion of shinui ha-ittim.
{33} I.e., that we would not compel a homosexual to enter into heterosexual marriage.
Copyright Rabbi Joan Friedman, May 7, 1998
Published by MemHeh Productions