Queer Orthodox Judaism

During our last class, we attempted to tear apart the implications behind queer Jewish identities and cultures. We spoke about the Stonewall riots of ’69 and how they led to the creation of LGBTQ synagogues like Congregation Beth Simchat Torah. We also discussed the shocking revelations many of us had after watching the film “Trembling Before God” as our minds were opened to the contradicting concept of liberal conservatism. I left this class pondering several questions about how this contradictory identity pervades our western society, and more specifically Judaism. The Hassidic, ultra-orthodox Jews in the film are forced to develop a split identity – one of queerness and one of orthodoxy, two terms not often associated with one another. The behind-the-scenes clip we viewed in class where several members of the closeted Hassidic LGBTQ community performed sha behind a screen so that only their shadows appeared to their audience points directly to this contradiction. No art form could have done it in a more powerful manner. The way I understand it, open homosexuality is equated with liberalism whereas Hassidic Judaism is associated with orthodoxy. Furthermore, in our conservative American culture, the only place these two extremes can come together is behind a screen like the one used in the film to allow the actors to remain “in the closet,” so to speak.

But this notion is overwhelmingly confusing. It became evident from this film that when put in the situation of identifying oneself in the most private and personal way as gay, it becomes impossible to ignore that truth to such an extent that the individuals in the film were put in a position to chose between hiding their queerness and living the Jewish life they desired, or coming out and leaving a tradition (and their family and friends) with which they are most familiar behind.

Now I recall Jody’s comment as she posed the question: Why can’t queer Jews (like those featured in the film) disconnect from their immediate community which rejects them, and instead join a separate sect within Judaism that accepts them where they can continue to fulfill the lifestyle they desire? I believe that within Jody’s argument is an inherent fallacy. These queer, ultra-orthodox Jews are not choosing between finding a comfortable place in a community or within their own self. Rather, they are internalizing an inner debate which I will call an identity crisis. If they reject their community and become “less orthodox” like the director of the film Rabbi Greenberg, this does not imply that they chose one community over another, but rather they placed one part of their identity as more important than another.

This inner-conflict subsists not only in this narrow realm of queer Hassidic Judaism but I would argue that it is sustaining and even revitalizing much of Judaism today. As we are living in this post-modern era we are instructed to debate with ourselves and question those things deemed “unquestionable.” Queer orthodox Judaism as illustrated through “Trembling Before God” is an excellent example that shows the innovative elements of Judaism that have evolved from Jews who have chosen to leave a community because they reasoned that one element of their identity was more important than another.