updated 3/3/13 At 22
years of age, I left Judaism. I left because I felt there was no place for me
within the Orthodox Jewish structure, as a gay Jew. Prior to leaving, I spent a
year in Israel learning in Yeshivat Beit Medrash L’Torah and went to Yeshiva University for a semester. Due
to personal issues, I had to drop out. At 20 years old, I found an ex-gay
therapist that I worked with for over 2 years. Prior to that I was very depressed
and somewhat suicidal. I am sure he meant well, but it gave me false hope. This
false hope didn’t pan out the say he said and only made me more depressed and
more suicidal. I had to figure something out.
I decided to seek the guidance of rabbis that I looked up to. I went to Rabbi Norman Lamm of Yeshiva
University. I figured he might have an answer that could help. His answer was “just pray.” I told him, “Rabbi, I
have prayed deeply, been involved in acts of kindness, helped organize classes
and minyans and did the best I could to be the best Jew I could be.” His
answer was “just pray and it will all
work out.” I felt like I had been let down and at a loss of any hope. I
went to many other rabbis in the United States, along with Israel in hopes of
finding an answer. Just what answer was I looking for? Honestly, I can tell you
that I had no idea. I just wanted to know that God still loved me and that I
was not just damaged goods. I had deep “internalized
homophobia” and was spiritually bankrupt.
At 22, I decided to find a therapist that would help me accept who I was. I was
down to the bare bones and felt this was the only way I could stay alive. Some
people cannot relate to my experience. Some people simply feel that it is like
any sin and that we have to control ourselves dealing with these demons. To me,
this was not about sex but rather survival. I still felt very damaged and truly
believed that God gave up on me. God didn’t answer my prayers, and I felt God
hated me. I am not exaggerating when I say that I felt this way. God had always
been my ally and source of comfort, and now he became the enemy. If God hated me, then I hated him. I
became extremely anti-religious. I felt
that Judaism only made me feel worse about whom I was. Why would I want to be a
part of a system that rejects who I am?
This led to the start of an intense addiction to alcohol and drugs from ages 22-26.
I felt I was a damaged soul and didn’t deserve to live. So these years were not
suicidal in the traditional sense, rather “years of slow suicide.” I was in a place in my life that I
figured I was gay, so I am not going to get married, not going to have children
and had no reason not to party till I die. I thought I would be dead by 30 and deserved this destiny. At 26 years
old, an intervention saved my life and I went to rehab. I am now sober over 9
years.
Fast forward to a year and a half ago. I had come to George Washington
University to pursue a bachelors’ degree in Psychology. It wasn’t easy to come back
to school at 33. A friend I had made at school invited me to Hillel for Shabbat
dinner, where I met the Hillel Rabbi,
Yoni Kaiser-Bleuth. He was from the traditional conservative camp of
Judaism and showed me a different side of Judaism. He was a rabbi that did not
judge me, but rather showed me love and full acceptance with no hidden agenda.
I have found that each one of my
experiences have built on the next. Because of my Hillel experience, I decided
to take classes on campus in Judaism with Dr. Robert Eisen. Because these classes deepened my appreciation
for Judaism, this opened me up to exploring Judaism even further. Because of my
exploring Judaism, I was able to find a synagogue that I really like. I have
found the quote "Life is a journey, not a destination" is a living
truth.
Finally, this year I moved off
campus and was searching for my unknown comfort zone. I tried a Modern Orthodox
synagogue, though not the most modern I have seen. I tried almost all the
flavors of Judaism. I just wasn’t getting the experience I craved.
A few months ago, Rabbi Steve Greenberg
(the first openly gay Orthodox rabbi) had come to D.C. I have known him for
years, but haven’t seen him in more than 12 years. He went to Ohev Shalom- The National Synagogue, a
modern orthodox synagogue with a very progressive, yet orthodox rabbi for
Shabbat. I didn’t think much of it, except that it was nice to know that there
was a congregation that was inclusive and hosted him. This was also the
synagogue that Rabbi Yoni Kaiser Bleuth was a member of.
A few weeks later, Rabbi Shmuel Herzfeld (http://rabbishmuel.com)
delivered a sermon on a Shabbat morning after prayers to his congregation about
“Same Sex Marriage in America: What
Does Orthodox Judaism Say?”
(http://www.ostns.org/Recent_Dvar_Torah.php).
I decided to go to his shul on a Shabbat morning and ended up becoming a
member. The way people in a congregation treat someone is very important. It is not only the rabbi that keeps someone
coming back, but also the community. This value of inclusion and acceptance is what keeps me coming back.
I can’t predict what I will feel in the future, but for now I have been able to
return to my roots. Today, I feel a part of and not discarded. Today, I feel I
have a place in Judaism.
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