When, at the age of 20, Steven Greenberg discussed his attraction to men as well as women for the first time, his religious counsellor offered a surprising view. ”He told me: ‘You have twice the power of love. Use it carefully.’ I left the meeting thinking everything was going to be fine.”
That young man is now Rabbi Steven Greenberg, the world’s first openly gay Orthodox rabbi. Since then, the 46-year-old has worked to ensure that the welcome he received be extended to all those lesbians and gay men who wish to enjoy intimacy without being banished from their communities.
”The taboo of homosexuality is actually quite contemporary,” says Greenberg, ”but it tends to mobilise religions in its service. If you look in many religions, you find a complex and rich history of engagement with issues of sexuality and desire.” Concomitant with this is his sense that the gay rights movement can expand with, rather than distance itself from, religious orthodoxy.
”If you’re rejected from the religious environment, then the response has been to reject religion. But increasingly people are insisting on not abandoning those communities, instead forcing them to become real visions for humanity rather than clubs for heterosexuals.” When people accept that homosexuality is a part of the self, the challenge becomes a deeply moral one: ”Are these institutions willing to be unafraid of addressing the realities of the human condition?”
A strict interpretation of the Torah reveals more lassitude than many might expect. The only direct reference to homosexuality can be found in Leviticus. ”What’s prohibited very clearly is intercourse between men. Relationships between women are not mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, and are only obliquely addressed in the rabbinic literature.”
Yet in reality many orthodox lesbians and gay men face discrimination. Trembling Before G-d, the award-winning documentary to which Greenberg contributed, recounts some of their stories. Despite moves such as the foundation of a global network of support groups and the establishment of Jerusalem’s only gay and lesbian centre, there are men and women, as the film shows, who have been shunned by their families, expelled from yeshivas and synagogues, and forced to undergo therapy.
Greenberg, who lives in New York with his partner of four years, goes as far as to suggest that coming out can be a religious experience. ”It’s about saying, ‘I know that my truth isn’t an ugly one’, and that’s a very religious sensibility.”
Greenberg was raised in Columbus, Ohio. Although his family were not especially observant, a series of serendipitous happenings brought him as a teenager to the local Orthodox synagogue and an inspirational English rabbi. ”Believe it or not, orthodoxy for me was the most non-conformist, unconventional, counter-cultural choice. It was the choice for meaning against banal middle-class life, a choice for history against the flatness of American culture, a choice for thinking about the great questions of life and meaning as opposed to concerning oneself with rock bands and baseball scores.”
After travelling to Israel to continue his religious studies, he gradually began to question his sexual orientation. ”The consciousness that one is attracted to the same sex needs outward corroboration to make it real. Without the ability to speak it, it was like a dream, an awareness that dissipated seconds later.” Despite the early positive response from the counsellor, Greenberg continued to date women throughout his 20s.
Although open about his sexuality with his family and friends, he wrestled with the notion of coming out before doing so very publicly in an interview with an Israeli newspaper in 1999.
On balance, people have been supportive, he says. ”Orthodox rabbis were largely not vicious, because they knew my intentions were good, though they wanted to affirm that it was a prohibition. But one rabbi said that to say that one is an orthodox rabbi and gay is like saying one is an orthodox rabbi who eats cheese burgers on Yom Kippur. He insisted I was a reform rabbi.”
A newspaper asked Greenberg to respond. ”I said that I don’t argue that this is a unique stance, but what I will say is that nobody jumps off a bridge, or takes Prozac or gets electric-shock therapy on account of a cheese burger. To deprive a human being of love and companionship is not to deprive them of a cheese burger.”
His participation in the documentary has raised his profile, as will the publication later this year of his book Of Wrestling with God and Men. He takes a Zen approach to his critics, he says. ”I despised myself for being gay for quite a while, so I’m patient with straight people for whom it takes time to understand.”
But ultimately his spiritual quest cannot afford complete resolution. ”I don’t presume to understand God’s ways or God’s final judgement. You build a life, you live it and you trust that a just and loving God will receive you.” — Â