Judaism and the gay dilemma
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Two years ago, liberal Judaism became the first of the Jewish movements in this country to sanction commitment ceremonies for same-sex couples in a synagogue. What was remarkable was not so much the policy itself, but the lack of reaction to it.
The muted response - no condemnation, for example, from the orthodox chief rabbi - reflects a more general pact made by most of Britain's synagogue movements seven years ago to avoid, wherever possible, sparring in public.
So far, British Jewry has escaped the potentially schismatic ructions over homosexuality that have afflicted the Anglican Church. This has largely to do with the denominational alignment that separated synagogue progressives from traditionalists more than a century ago.
For the liberals and the larger reform movement, which account for roughly a quarter of UK synagogue members, the Torah is neither regarded literally as the word of God, nor is Talmudic law taken as binding. Hence, their freedom to reinterpret, or even set aside, biblical texts in pursuit of egalitarianism.
Both movements have recognised openly gay or lesbian rabbis. A few years ago, the more conservative reform adopted a more cautious policy towards lesbians and gay couples, permitting rabbis to conduct commitment ceremonies in private, without the movement's formal backing. In contrast, the new liberal policy marks it out as the most inclusive stream of Judaism, for it has also recently cleared the way for its rabbis to officiate at mixed-faith weddings.
According to the liberals, it is at the discretion of the individual rabbi whether he or she conducts same-sex commitment ceremonies, and of the congregation whether to allow them in the actual synagogue sanctuary. I know of at least one rabbi, for instance, who will do same-sex ceremonies but not mixed-faith weddings.
Even within orthodoxy, where the traditional proscriptions of homosexual practice remain in force, there has been a change of heart in some quarters. Last spring, Chaim Rapoport, holder of the medical ethics portfolio in the chief rabbi's cabinet, published what he believed was "one of the first books written by an orthodox rabbi on... homosexuality".
The book's most notable feature is its empathy with the predicament of homosexuals struggling to reconcile their nature with their religious tradition. Rapoport could see no way round the ban under Jewish law on homosexual practice for both men and women, but asserted it was "badly wrong" to condemn people for their "natural sexual orientation".
Since mainstream orthodox congregations welcome sabbath-breakers or transgressors of kosher dietary rules, he argued, there is no reason to exclude practising homosexual Jews.
Another book, also published last year, offered a bolder way forward for orthodoxy. In Wrestling With God And Men, the world's first openly gay rabbi, American Steven Greenberg, argued that homosexual relationships would be compatible with traditional Judaism if the prohibition in Leviticus were interpreted to refer specifically to anal intercourse, but not other forms of intimacy.
In an incident that indicates the current limits to discussion within mainstream British orthodoxy, Greenberg, who addressed a packed Jewish Book Week audience in London last year, had been due to go on to speak at an orthodox synagogue in Leeds. To his dismay, its rabbi, David Sedley returned from abroad to find that his invitation to Greenberg had been cancelled by the synagogue's executive.
The most important debate over the next few years is likely to happen among America's second largest Jewish movement, the conservative, which lies somewhere between orthodox and reform. If conservative Judaism were to sanction same-sex unions, or ordain openly gay or lesbian rabbis, the reaction would be a lot more vocal than that encountered by the British liberals
The muted response - no condemnation, for example, from the orthodox chief rabbi - reflects a more general pact made by most of Britain's synagogue movements seven years ago to avoid, wherever possible, sparring in public.
So far, British Jewry has escaped the potentially schismatic ructions over homosexuality that have afflicted the Anglican Church. This has largely to do with the denominational alignment that separated synagogue progressives from traditionalists more than a century ago.
For the liberals and the larger reform movement, which account for roughly a quarter of UK synagogue members, the Torah is neither regarded literally as the word of God, nor is Talmudic law taken as binding. Hence, their freedom to reinterpret, or even set aside, biblical texts in pursuit of egalitarianism.
Both movements have recognised openly gay or lesbian rabbis. A few years ago, the more conservative reform adopted a more cautious policy towards lesbians and gay couples, permitting rabbis to conduct commitment ceremonies in private, without the movement's formal backing. In contrast, the new liberal policy marks it out as the most inclusive stream of Judaism, for it has also recently cleared the way for its rabbis to officiate at mixed-faith weddings.
According to the liberals, it is at the discretion of the individual rabbi whether he or she conducts same-sex commitment ceremonies, and of the congregation whether to allow them in the actual synagogue sanctuary. I know of at least one rabbi, for instance, who will do same-sex ceremonies but not mixed-faith weddings.
Even within orthodoxy, where the traditional proscriptions of homosexual practice remain in force, there has been a change of heart in some quarters. Last spring, Chaim Rapoport, holder of the medical ethics portfolio in the chief rabbi's cabinet, published what he believed was "one of the first books written by an orthodox rabbi on... homosexuality".
The book's most notable feature is its empathy with the predicament of homosexuals struggling to reconcile their nature with their religious tradition. Rapoport could see no way round the ban under Jewish law on homosexual practice for both men and women, but asserted it was "badly wrong" to condemn people for their "natural sexual orientation".
Since mainstream orthodox congregations welcome sabbath-breakers or transgressors of kosher dietary rules, he argued, there is no reason to exclude practising homosexual Jews.
Another book, also published last year, offered a bolder way forward for orthodoxy. In Wrestling With God And Men, the world's first openly gay rabbi, American Steven Greenberg, argued that homosexual relationships would be compatible with traditional Judaism if the prohibition in Leviticus were interpreted to refer specifically to anal intercourse, but not other forms of intimacy.
In an incident that indicates the current limits to discussion within mainstream British orthodoxy, Greenberg, who addressed a packed Jewish Book Week audience in London last year, had been due to go on to speak at an orthodox synagogue in Leeds. To his dismay, its rabbi, David Sedley returned from abroad to find that his invitation to Greenberg had been cancelled by the synagogue's executive.
The most important debate over the next few years is likely to happen among America's second largest Jewish movement, the conservative, which lies somewhere between orthodox and reform. If conservative Judaism were to sanction same-sex unions, or ordain openly gay or lesbian rabbis, the reaction would be a lot more vocal than that encountered by the British liberals
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extremely interesting
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