Dealing with difficult texts: an acharei mot sermon

Et Zachar Lo Tishkav Mishkavei Ishah, To’evah Hi
Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination (Leviticus 18:22)

Each year, rabbis around the country cringe when they reach Leviticus 18 in the yearly Torah cycle. There’s so much great stuff in the Torah, commandments to love our neighbor as ourselves, reminders to value the poor, widow and orphan, acts of courage and admissions of faith. But what do we do with a text like Leviticus 18:22, that speaks so harshly about the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered community? How do we make peace with a text that says so explicitly “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination”? And then goes on a few chapters later to say that we should stone them for their actions?

Leviticus 18:22 is not the only difficult text we Jews must face. It’s not the only text that fears the other, that calls the actions of people in our community an abomination. The Torah is filled with troubling notions and idea with which we must wrestle. In truth, there are dozens of ways to look at difficult texts. Using Leviticus 18:22 as a jumping off point, I want to explore four of these in tonight’s sermon.

The first approach to difficult texts is to skip them. Texts like Leviticus 18:22 have silenced millions around the world. Perhaps we can fight back by silencing it. Since no rabbi can cover a whole portion in his sermon and Reform congregations only choose a part of the portion each week to read aloud, it’s actually quite easy to avoid this troubling passage altogether. With such great stuff in this week’s potion like the first Yom Kippur there’s no lack of other things to discuss.

In fact, there is a long tradition in the Reform movement of replacing troubling texts. A few generations ago, the esteemed scholar Jacob Petekowski published a short essay where he outlined the characteristics of Reform prayer. In it, he explained that one may remove all notions of resurrection, angelology, yearning for the third Temple, and most importantly hateful and xenophobic notions. Its for this reason that the Reform movement has decided to change the traditional Yom Kippur afternoon Torah reading from Leviticus 18 which equates homosexuality with incest, and bestiality to Leviticus 19 which speaks of justice and holiness.

The next approach to dealing with difficult texts is to tell their story. Each text has a context and each has something of value to teach. Take our upcoming Passover haggadah. Personally, I struggle with one particular passage in a traditional haggadah where we implore God to “Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not know you.” True, today it seems odd to curse our neighbors simply because they do not believe in God. However, let’s tell the story of this text.

Our haggadah is a tapestry of text and history that were inserted into the Passover seder over time. This particular text came about during the time of the crusades, when the Jewish people were oppressed and powerless. When they implored God to “pour out your wrath” what they were actually doing was demanding a bit of control and power in a world where they lacked it. We may not agree with the message of this prayer in our haggadah but we can certainly identify with the emotions. We have all felt powerless, fearful, and angry. Each time we read this troubling text in the Haggadah we are reminded that these feelings are only natural and that our story is not unique. We fail to stand alone. Our story is intertwined with our ancestors. We have a long tradition of powerless and anger to fall back on.

The story of Levitucs 18:22 is no less powerful. Scholars have pointed out that the prohibition against homosexuality comes directly after the prohibition for child sacrifice to the demon God, Moloch. Somehow, the two were intertwined in the minds of our Biblical authors. Moloch and the cultures who worshiped him were scary to our ancestors. Because some scholars think that homosexuality was involved in the cult worship of Moloch, it seems only natural that our Bible would prohibit it. How could they have ever imagined that nearly 3,000 years later monogamous love between two men could be normative? When we read the word “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination” we are reminded of the fear and defensiveness of our ancestors as they sought to distance themselves from the strange and dangerous cult around them. To many of us in this room, we understand what it’s like to protect our children from what we see as dangerous. Leviticus 18:22 reminds us that we are not alone in this fear.

The third approach to troubling texts are to reinterpret them. At face value “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination” seems troubling, but what happens if we look closely at what the words mean? Rabbi Steven Greenberg, the first openly gay Orthodox rabbi in America teaches that one may deal with this difficult text by narrowly defining a single word “tishkav” to “lie down with.” In his book, “Wrestling with God and Men” Greenberg points out that the word “to lie down” is often associated with violence. The word appears in a number of rape scenes in the Bible and is hardly ever used as a part of a loving and mutual relationship. For this reason, Greenberg sees our Leviticus 18:22 text not as a blanket statement against homosexuality but as prohibition against abuses of power in relationships. “Do not lie with a male” becomes “Do not lie FORCEFULLY with a male” and becomes immediately less troubling.

The final approach is to use the troubling text as a mnemonic for social change. Today the GLBT community does not have equal rights. While religions, races, and sexes are protected from workplace discrimination, the GLBT community is not offered these same protections. One may be fired based solely on their sexual preference. Furthermore, gay and lesbian couples are not afforded the same fiscal, medical, and family protections as other couples. It’s harder from them to adopt children and harder for them to visit their loved one in a hospital. If we are all created “b’tzelem elohim” in the image of God, how can some of us have right while others lack them?

Each year, when we read Leviticus 18:22, no matter what we are doing, we are forced for even a short time to engage the issue of the rights of the GLBT community. We are snapped out of our complacency and our comfort and forced to engage our texts, our traditions and our world. Today, it is our silence that is the to’evah, the abomination and each year we read our troubling texts to remind of us of this.

In truth, there are merits and flaws to all of these approaches. Some tug at our heartstrings. Some are highly consistent. And some very empowering. However, some ignore the 3,000 years of textual and legal development since these text were written. Some come off as idealistic. And some fail to engage at all with the issues at hand. However, each method is highly personal and its impossible to say which is right.

Whether or not you find our Leviticus 18:22 text as difficult as I do is up to you. However, my hope for us all is that when we find texts that are troubling we can develop a method that that helps us come to terms with it. Then, whether we ignore it, expand it, reinterpret it, use it to empower us, or employ any other method we choose, we can add our voice into the 3,000 year conversation that has surrounded this particular text and make them just a little less troubling for all of us.