/ 16 February 2005

When God learns from man

Imagine my surprise. After years of popping in and out of synagogue life, I took my interest in Judaism to another level. Not exactly a higher level because, being gay, I had began to drift from the core tenets: family life, procreation and community accountability.

In 1985 I purchased a copy of The Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse. Here one finds a lament by the 12th-century Spanish poet Moses Ibn Ezra titled The Treacherous Fawn: ”We went to his mother’s house. There he bent his back to my heavy yoke. Night and day I alone was with him. I took off his clothes and he took off mine. I sucked at his lips and he suckled me.”

Ibn Ezra also composed important liturgical works called Selikhot, meaning ”forgiveness”, penitential prayers recited by Jews prior to the onset of the high holy days. The poet’s nickname was The Supplicant.

Well, imagine The Supplicant engaging in oral sex with his young boyfriend at his mother’s house somewhere in Granada, circa 1100. Quite possibly he needed comfort after the destruction of the Jewish community in that city by marauding Berber Almoravids. His family dispersed as refugees, Ibn Ezra remained in the city primarily because he was well-respected by his Muslim overlords; in fact, he received an honorary Arabic title.

His perceived homosexuality (he was but one of many Jewish poets who wrote homoerotic poems) and his status in Muslim society of the day combine in the minds of Jewish scholars. These are quick to point out to modern readers that the Jewish poets of Spain in the Middle Ages conformed to social norms. SW Baron’s 1958 social history of the Jews said that ”at times platonic love was transferred to the poet’s male friends, but without smacking quite of the outright homosexuality that characterised much of contemporary Arabic poetry”.

Rabbis may blame the Arabs for the scandalous content of ancient Jewish poetry, but they would also be advised to read it carefully. That way they may learn something about the gay people they counsel.

Sandi Simcha Dubowski’s 2001 documentary about ultra-orthodox gay Jews, Trembling Before G-d, will show in Cape Town this weekend. In it orthodox gay, American psychologist Shlomo Ashkinazy relates his experience of a journey he took to a world-famous rabbi who reminded him that anal sex is an abomination. Ashkinazy told the rabbi that he doesn’t do anal. The rabbi was alarmed: ”What else is there?” he asked.

Ashkinazy told the rabbi that he enjoys hugging, mutual masturbation and oral sex. The rabbi, an international man of learning, could not believe that a man would want to put another man’s schmekie (penis) in his mouth. Then the rabbi lit up and proclaimed homosexuality to be a tie’vah, an ”illogical urge”, something put down from above, just like aspects of heterosexuality.

While old-school rabbis would like to have taken the proscription of Leviticus quite literally (”They shall be put to death, their blood is on them”), there are others who see gay tendencies as ”an assignment from God — part of the life purpose of that person”.

Possibly the most enlightened view expounded in Dubowski’s award-winning work is that God Himself did not know about homosexuality, upon creation. Indeed there are rabbis who point out that ”God wishes to learn from His relationship with human beings — and He sometimes changes His mind. It’s not Judaism if it’s not a response to the human condition.”

Religious authorities feel compelled to explain away the cause of homosexuality, yet orthodox lesbians find solace in some of the rituals of the religion. Married Israeli lesbian ”Devorah” speaks of her relief that ”from the onset of a woman’s period for at least seven days her husband cannot touch her. They cannot even pass things to each other. They cannot sleep in the same bed.”

So ”Devorah” gets lucky once a month when her husband cannot get near her. But other less enticing rule books warn that in the hereafter men who sleep with men will be boiled in a substance thicker than semen. There are some gays who’d pay good money for that.

When distinguished actor Sir Antony Sher performed in his Holocaust drama Primo in Cape Town recently, we were reminded that gays and Jews have often been lumped together. He reminded a television journalist of his fate had he lived through the Nazi Holocaust when Jewish gays had to wear two triangles — one pink, one yellow. Superimposed, they made a Star of David.

Jews don’t often identify their painful experience of prejudice with the experiences of homosexuals. Because of this, many gay Jews live with the feeling that they are branded — but by their own people.

Trembling Before G-d shows at the Labia on Orange Street in Cape Town from February 13 to 17, at Nu Metro in Killarney from February 19 to 23 and at Nu Metro in Menlyn Park, Pretoria on February 21. Director Sandi Simcha Dubowski and gay rabbi Steven Greenberg will attend panel discussions and lectures. Tel: 083 628 3426