Homosexual Partnership in Jewish Law (Column 754)
With God's help
Some time ago I was sent a responsum by Rabbi Rafael Yehonatan Polisuk (Orthodox), himself openly gay, regarding homosexual partnership in Jewish law. His very innovative claim is that such a partnership is desirable and even has halakhic status. He himself conducts same-sex wedding ceremonies, albeit not a halakhic huppah-and-kiddushin ceremony, but some analogous ritual. In this column I would like to critique the arguments he raised in that responsum.
Introduction regarding the point of departure: between legitimacy and soundness of arguments
I must begin by saying that this subject is close to my heart, since I am aware of the great distress of people with such sexual orientations, especially in the religious world. I have written more than once that, in my opinion, they are under compulsion in the halakhic sense. Beyond that, I have also written more than once that, in my view, there is no moral problem whatsoever in homosexual relations. It is a halakhic prohibition, but not an act that is morally flawed. Precisely because of this, I would be happy to find a way out that allows such relationships, and perhaps even leads to recognition of such a partnership on one level or another. But despite all this, I think one must not give up intellectual honesty (see column 225, where I explained that lack of honesty characterizes these discussions on both sides).
People have a tendency to draw the target around the arrow, that is, to justify a phenomenon they desire, and in many cases the arguments in such a situation do not really hold water. The root of the matter is that the desirable is not the actual; that is, the fact that I want something does not mean that it is possible and legitimate. In column 478 I argued that this is the root of the difference between Modern Orthodoxy and Reform, since Reform Jews are content with pointing out that the result is desirable and do not always insist on providing halakhic arguments on the merits. Therefore, precisely from the perspective of a Modern Orthodox person who wants to open such issues for discussion, it is very important to me to insist on halakhic grounding even for claims whose realization I desire a priori.
I wrote all this because, specifically due to my identification with the tendency and the desire of Rabbi Polisuk, I find it necessary to present a critique of his arguments. First, It is Torah, and we must study it. ('it is Torah, and we must study it'). But more importantly, a poor defense of some phenomenon or thesis harms it more than it helps. It causes people to become more entrenched in their preconceptions and in effect prevents substantive discussion and discourse. When many people read such tendentious arguments and understand that they do not hold water, they come thereby to an a priori and sweeping contempt for the very possibility of justifying the phenomenon and dealing with it seriously, and their conclusion is that no relevant defense of the phenomenon is possible. Thus many people refrain from engaging at all with arguments in this direction (the thought is that 'these are Reformers, liberals, progressives, etc., and therefore it is obvious that there is no substance to their arguments'). I myself have experienced this quite often. More than once I feel that when I raise halakhic and other arguments in favor of an innovative thesis (which on its face looks Reform), I do not receive a fair hearing. The prejudice causes people to be unwilling to address reasons and arguments, and to reject the claim out of hand, with the feeling that these are 'Reform' claims.
On the other hand, precisely because I am going to criticize Rabbi Polisuk's claims, I must emphasize that his claims do not express a Reform position (see again column 478). It is important to distinguish between rejecting a given position out of hand because it lies outside the bounds of Jewish law, and a substantive dispute over halakhic arguments. The very fact that he resorts to halakhic reasoning and does not suffice with pointing to the results, the distress, and the problematic nature of the situation, indicates that this is a legitimate halakhic discussion. Having said that, I will try to show that his arguments are problematic.
I prefaced the column with this introduction because, in my eyes, it is no less important than the substance of the discussion itself. For similar directions of discussion, see also columns 504, 579, 701–702, and more.
The question
The following was the question sent to him:
We are an observant same-sex couple, and recently we decided to formalize our relationship. We aspire to do so within a binding halakhic framework, not by means of a merely symbolic ceremony. At the same time, we are aware that kiddushin in its traditional sense was intended for a bond between a man and a woman.
We also carry some painful experiences. More than once we felt rejected by the religious community in which we grew up, and sometimes even by our immediate family. The feeling that our love – which in our eyes is a great blessing and the center of our lives – has no place within the religious world has accompanied us for years. Precisely for that reason, we seek to find a halakhic path that will allow our love to receive religious expression, rather than remain outside of it.
We therefore ask: is there a halakhic prohibition against holding a ceremony for a partnership like ours? And if there is no such prohibition – does Jewish law contain another framework that could serve us, one that would create commitment on the basis of faithfulness, mutual respect, responsibility, and care for one another? And what should such a ceremony look like in practice, what are its components that are permitted under Jewish law, and what are the things that must be avoided out of concern for prohibition?
The question is touching. They describe an impossible situation, since this is their nature. They have no option of marrying according to the law of Moses and Israel, and that is of course not their fault. There is no doubt that this involves great suffering, but beyond that they truly love one another and want to give that expression. Being religious, they would like that to have halakhic and Torah expression, since partnership and home are a clear Torah value. In fact, the crux of the question is whether it is possible to separate the value of home and partnership from the prohibition of male same-sex intercourse.
In the background, of course, stands the elephant in the room. They do ask what they should do in order to avoid prohibition, but that raises the question of what they intend regarding the prohibition of male same-sex intercourse itself. It should be said that a practice has developed today whereby religious same-sex couples live together, and by implication also signal that living together as such is not prohibited, but the question of sexual relations, which certainly involves prohibition, remains vague, and not without reason. On the one hand, it really is nobody else's business, and I have no intention here of getting into anybody's pants or bedroom. But if the matter is being discussed publicly, one cannot and should not bypass the elephant that occupies most of the room: how do they intend to formalize a bond that is valid according to Jewish law and has halakhic significance, when one of its central cores is an explicit and absolute halakhic prohibition (Everyone knows why a bride enters the wedding canopy… – 'everyone knows why a bride enters the huppah').
Again, I do not intend to denounce anyone, or even to dictate a proper way of life to such couples. I am hardly in a position to do that. But if such a principled discussion is already being raised, there is certainly room to examine critically whether the requested separation between the prohibition on sexual relations and the value of partnership can really be carried out. On the conceptual level, I should preface that such a separation is not necessarily absurd. The fact that the sexual relations are prohibited does not mean that such a partnership has no value. Thus, for example, social life has value even though it is nearly unavoidable within it not to violate prohibitions of gossip and slander. No one expects us to flee to the deserts and leave society in order to avoid that (and yes, I know Maimonides, who did not himself do so and did not instruct it in practice). Rabbi Polisuk indeed tries to proceed along this path and to propose a separation between the prohibition and the value of partnership. I will now turn to discuss his responsum.
The framework of the discussion
I will begin at the end. Rabbi Polisuk summarizes his view at the beginning of the responsum and writes:
My practical opinion is that it is permitted, and even appropriate, to conduct partnership ceremonies that are not kiddushin for same-sex couples. Below we will examine the meaning of the prohibition of as the practice of the land of Egypt ('like the practice of the land of Egypt') in relation to the formalization of same-sex partnership, and we will see that it does not preclude such same-sex wedding ceremonies. In addition, we will discuss the commandment and value found in a partnership like yours. Later we will delve into the nature of the bond of kiddushin and the halakhic alternative that can be proposed to it in a same-sex reality. Finally, we will propose halakhic guiding lines for shaping a ceremony.
In a note below he adds:
Nothing said below is meant, or purports, to permit the prohibition of male same-sex intercourse, nor even the prohibition concerning women engaging in sexual intimacy with one another. See below, note 7.
And in note 7 he writes:
For a comprehensive survey of the sources on sexuality between women, see the responsum of Rabbi Jeffrey Fox, Nashim Mesolelot, Lesbian women and Halakha . Regarding sexuality between men, apart from the Torah-level prohibition of male same-sex intercourse, whose parameters, like all forbidden sexual relations, are defined as intercourse and even initial penetration (Laws of Forbidden Sexual Relations 1:10) – see 'Minḥat Solet' and 'Me'il HaEfod' on Sefer HaḤinnukh, commandment 188, and Kovetz Teshuvot of Rabbi Elyashiv, part 2, Even HaEzer no. 184, who wrote that the prohibition of intimate contact, regarding sexual acts that are not intercourse, does not apply between one man and another ('does not apply between man and man'). For an extensive discussion of the matter, see the ruling 835157/20 of the Great Rabbinical Court, chapter 2, pp. 10-32.
This is the gist of the separation thesis. Sexual relations are prohibited (with certain reservations that I will not go into here), and at the same time he finds it appropriate to conduct a discussion of partnership, formalization, and ceremony, and of the Torah and halakhic significance of the latter two.
- The prohibition of "as the practice of the land of Egypt"
The source usually cited for the prohibition of the very formalization of a same-sex partnership is the exposition of the Sifra (Aḥarei Mot, parashah 8):
“You shall not do as the practice of the land of Egypt, and as the practice of the land of Canaan.” One might think this means they should not build buildings or plant plantings like theirs; therefore Scripture says, “and you shall not follow their statutes.” I said only statutes fixed for them and for their fathers and their fathers’ fathers. And what did they do? A man married a man, and a woman a woman; a man married a woman and her daughter, and a woman was married to two men. Therefore it says, “and you shall not follow their statutes.”
The Malbim there explains it as follows (sec. 132):
“And you shall not follow their statutes.” The statutes are the general conventions established in a society. Most of them have no apparent reason; only the lawgiver knows their reason, or he established them by his will. Since it says, “You shall not do as the practice of the land of Egypt,” and “practice” includes all the actions a person performs, this means that they should not follow their corrupt customs. See below, se'if [140].
That is indeed the plain sense of the Sifra: it is speaking about the legally accepted mode of conduct in Egypt. In other words, this is not a prohibition on same-sex intercourse, but on formal-legal institutionalization of the relationship.
But here Rabbi Polisuk cites the words of Maimonides (which were also copied in the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh):
Women rubbing against one another is forbidden, and is part of the practice of Egypt against which we were warned, as it says, “You shall not do as the practice of the land of Egypt.” The sages said: What did they do? A man married a man, and a woman married a woman, and a woman married two men. Although this act is forbidden, lashes are not administered for it, because it has no specific prohibition and there is no actual sexual intercourse involved at all. Therefore they are not disqualified from marrying into the priesthood on account of harlotry, nor does this render a woman forbidden to her husband, since there is no harlotry here. Still, it is fitting to flog them with disciplinary lashes since they have committed a transgression. A man should be particular with his wife about this matter and prevent women known for this from entering his home, and prevent his wife from going out to them.
He infers from this that Maimonides interprets the Sifra as a prohibition on the sexual act itself and not on the formalization of the relationship (the marriage), despite the fact that the language of the Sifra quite plainly speaks about the formalization involved (the legal dimension). The inference from Maimonides is far from compelling, since it is clear that the partnership is problematic chiefly because of the sexual relations within it. Therefore, if there is a prohibition on establishing such a home, then certainly there is a prohibition on such sexual relations. According to this, Maimonides too can agree that the Sifra speaks of a prohibition on the partnership itself and on the legal-juridical process that accompanies it.
In particular, this seems correct in light of the continuation of Maimonides' words, where he sees the entire connection between women in this context as reprehensible, and therefore instructs us to distance women from it. It should be remembered that even the sexual act there does not really involve intercourse, and therefore there is no prohibition there strictly speaking. It is therefore much more plausible that he interprets everything involved in a partnership between two women as reprehensible, and needless to say that their marrying one another is included in that, as the plain sense of the Sifra indicates. It is very strange to say that their intimacy and affection would be prohibited (even if not under a specific negative commandment), but living together in a shared conjugal home is fine. By the way, his wording does not make clear whether this is a rabbinic prohibition, as is commonly assumed, or a Torah prohibition for which lashes are not administered (that seems more likely from his language).
Further on he brings a whole battery of decisors who did not cite the language of the Sifra at all, and did not expand the prohibition beyond the sexual act itself. From this he infers that they probably understood it as aggadic midrash or Torah guidance rather than as law (or that they understood, as he attributes to Maimonides, that the Sifra too deals with the sexual act itself). Of course, another explanation is also possible: for example, that they did not see any novelty in this Sifra beyond the prohibition of women engaging in mutual rubbing, which itself includes the entire partnership between women.
His inference from the Yere'im and from the book Mishneh Kesef seems to me to lead to the opposite conclusion. It appears that their view is that formalizing the relationship is prohibited by virtue of its being among gentile customs (even though from the language of the Sifra quoted above it appears that there are customs of theirs that are not prohibited if they are not inherently corrupt, such as building houses as they do), even if the act itself involves no prohibition. That is, this is a prohibition on everything beyond the sexual act. This conclusion is exactly the opposite of his inference there.
He himself notes that in later generations the decisors began to prohibit the very formalization on the basis of the Sifra and Maimonides. For example, the author of Kiryat Melekh Rav (part 2, Kuntres Din Emet, no. 27):
When it says “as the practice of the land of Egypt,” this refers to a marital framework: a woman marrying a woman in a permanent way, like the manner in which a man marries a woman. Something of that sort is forbidden by Torah law because it is literally like the practice of the land of Egypt… But if it is not in the manner of marriage, and merely occasional, in the way of promiscuity, it is not forbidden, for this is not literally like the practice of the land of Egypt. Therefore the Talmud cites the statement of Rav Huna, which appears to hold that this prohibition applies even to an unmarried woman, and even not in the manner of marriage, since it simply speaks of women rubbing against one another… But the Talmud rejects this… Rather, it holds that there is at least a rabbinic prohibition, lest they come to desire foreign flesh and act this way… whereas the Torah prohibition is in the case of permanent marital union, as stated.
He argues that this is a late interpretation that takes the matter away from its plain sense. But the fact that this interpretation arises later does not in itself disqualify it. It may be because the question of formalization arose only later (since until their time nobody would even have imagined doing such a thing), or because until then it seemed self-evident. As I said, to my understanding this interpretation is the plain sense of the language of the Sifra, and it certainly fits the wording of Maimonides and the decisors as well.
[In parentheses I would note that within his discussion he assumes as self-evident that, according to this view, the prohibition depends on formalization, and that there is no prohibition on casual sexual relations (that is, on the intercourse itself). But that is not so. The claim is that every such relationship is prohibited, even if casual, and formalization is the paradigmatic form of such relationships, as above.]
Still, after all this, there is some room for his inference, and I cannot dismiss it categorically. It is not a far-fetched argument. Especially if what we have here is indeed Torah guidance rather than actual law, and such policy can certainly change with the generations and the circumstances. Therefore this is not the main thrust of my criticism. My main claim concerns the following discussion in his chapter 2.
- ""It is not good for man to be alone"" – the commandment and value of partnership
This section opens with a Mishnah and Gemara in Yevamot:
Mishnah: A man should not refrain from procreation unless he already has children… Gemara: This implies that if he has children, he may refrain from procreation, but not from having a wife. This supports Rav Naḥman, who said in the name of Shmuel: Even if a person has many children, it is forbidden for him to remain without a wife, as it is said: “It is not good for man to be alone.”
It seems that one learns from here a general principle that a person ought to be in a partnership. Therefore even a man who has already fulfilled his obligation must be in a partnership. And so too regarding a woman, who is exempt from the commandment of procreation, as the Tosefta Yevamot 8:4 says:
A man is not permitted to live without a wife, and a woman is not permitted to live without a husband.
He goes on there and cites additional sources for this idea, but for some reason chooses to ignore the addition that appears in almost all of them. Thus, for example, the Tur, in the introduction to Even HaEzer, writes:
Blessed be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, who desires the good of His creatures, for He knew that it is not good for a person to be alone, and therefore He made for him a helpmate opposite him. Moreover, the purpose of man's creation is to be fruitful and multiply, and this is impossible without that help.
The Tur explains the value in life as a couple, and in addition explains that the purpose of human creation is to be fruitful and multiply. That, of course, is not realized in same-sex partnership. True, one could say that there are two distinct values in the Tur's words here, and that the first applies to same-sex partnership as well.
But Maimonides wrote in Laws of Marriage 15:16:
Likewise, it is a rabbinic commandment that a man not live without a wife, lest he come to improper thoughts; and that a woman not live without a husband, lest she become suspect.
Where does he see here the value of partnership? On the contrary, same-sex partnership not only does not prevent suspicion or sinful thoughts, it intensifies them tenfold.
And Maimonides likewise wrote in Laws of Forbidden Sexual Relations 21:25:
It is a rabbinic commandment for a person to marry off his sons and daughters near the time of their maturity, for if he leaves them unmarried, they may come to promiscuity or improper thoughts.
Here too, partnership is a means of preventing prohibitions, not a value in itself. As I noted, the conclusion that arises from this regarding same-sex partnership is exactly the opposite of what he says.
To be sure, from the plain sense of the verse, and indeed from the Gemara in Yevamot above, there really does emerge an independent value here. But it is not for nothing that all the decisors took it away from that plain sense. I would only note that above Rabbi Polisuk relied on the words of the decisors in order to infer a conclusion against the plain meaning of the Sifra (from which it emerges that there is a prohibition on same-sex formalization), whereas here he chooses to follow the plain meaning of the Gemara against the words of the decisors. There is a problematic tendentiousness here.
Rabbi Polisuk's conclusion appears in the following paragraph:
And it is obvious to anyone with a heart of flesh that just as there is no distinction here between man and woman, and between one who can procreate and one who cannot – so too there is no distinction between one whose love is directed to the opposite sex and one who is drawn to his own sex. And since there is no prohibition in this, as we showed above, it is a commandment for them to find their life partner, a helpmate opposite him or opposite him, and there is no difference whatsoever between them and others.
I must say that my heart is indeed a heart of flesh, and I truly do understand the distress and would very much like this to be the conclusion, but unfortunately the words of the decisors that he himself cites point to the exact opposite. Not only is there no value in same-sex partnership, there is a negative value in it, and plainly even a prohibition (both according to the Sifra under as the practice of the land of Egypt, and according to the decisors' discussion of partnership whose purpose is to prevent prohibition, sinful thought, and problematic public appearance).
Reservation: human value
I think the sources cited at the end of the chapter do indeed lead to a conclusion similar to his, though still not identical, and this is his wording there:
And as the Mishnah in Avot (1:6) says: and acquire for yourself a friend, and see the words of Rabbeinu Yonah and the Bartenura there, who wrote that the language of acquisition indicates obligation, even to the point of spending great sums of money on it, analogous to expenditure for the fulfillment of a positive commandment. And the midrash Avot de-Rabbi Natan on that same Mishnah (8:3) says: “And acquire for yourself a friend” — how so? This teaches that a person should acquire a companion for himself, to eat with him, drink with him, read with him, study with him, sleep with him, and reveal to him all his secrets — secrets of Torah and secrets of worldly conduct… as it is said (Ecclesiastes 4:9): “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor.” And as in the well-known saying of the Sages (Ta'anit 23a): either companionship or death. Loneliness destabilizes a person and places him in an existential deficiency. Large-scale studies from recent years have shown that loneliness increases the rate of depression and anxiety, harms the heart and cognitive functioning, and even raises the risk of premature death. Therefore, as a rule, partnership, including same-sex partnership, should be seen as an obligation and even as protection against danger to life.
All of these are certainly very sound considerations. But what do they have to do with Jewish law or with halakhic sources?! Moreover, these sources speak about friendship, not about same-sex partnership. These are simple human considerations that anyone understands even without those sources. The fact that loneliness is psychologically harmful is obvious. The fact that the Sages were aware of this goes without saying. But all this only shows that same-sex partnership has added value for the partners. For that there is no need for sources. It is a simple fact. Ask them and you will see. What he wanted to show is that the Torah itself (and even Jewish law) encourages this. That is, that there is here a value dimension and not merely assistance in distress, or a solution and prevention of problems. That is an entirely different claim.
This seems to me similar to the claim that the Torah and Jewish law see value in every prohibited sexual act, such as intercourse with one's sister or mother. The reasoning is simple: after all, there is value in enjoying oneself (see sources, for example, here), for Resh Lakish even wept over the little cake he did not manage to enjoy before he died, and therefore there is Torah value in prohibited sexual acts, since they bring pleasure. One can even reinforce this with sources from the Sages that show there is pleasure in intercourse (for example, in the rule of for he derives pleasure, the inclination to wear clothes, and so on). The claim as such is of course true, but it is simply a fact. The conflation of the factual-human claim with a Torah, and even halakhic, statement is absurd.
That same Resh Lakish says in Bereishit Rabbah 80:1:
We ought to be grateful to the nations of the world, for they place images in their theaters and circuses and amuse themselves with them, so that people will not sit around talking with one another and come to quarrel.
Now Rabbi Polisuk would supposedly have to argue that there is Torah value in every activity whatsoever, since it gives pleasure and prevents quarrels or other prohibitions. Anything that benefits us in some sense can be said to have value. That is of course true, but banal and trivial.
A similar distinction could lead us to the claim that it is very important to give charity to a robber in distress or to a terrorist, in order that he be able to continue robbing or murdering comfortably and not go hungry. There is no doubt that robbery solves his problems, since there is value in a life without distress. And are we not all commanded "Love your fellow as yourself"? The fact that he uses this to rob is another matter. Can that aspect be separated from the aspect of what that person does with our charity? To my mind this is quite similar to the separation Rabbi Polisuk proposes, according to which there is value in partnership, and therefore the Torah sees value (and even commandment) in same-sex marriage – for remove from here the transgression (which admittedly he ignores, but even if he were right that the formalization as such is not a transgression, Everyone knows why a bride enters the wedding canopy) and what remains is something of value.
The ceremony
The second part of the responsum deals with shaping a kiddushin-like ceremony for same-sex partnership. I will not go into the details of this part here, for several reasons.
First, personally I have no interest in ceremonies of any kind. But that is merely a matter of personal taste. Ceremonies are a matter for fashion designers, florists, and other purveyors of emotion, not for scholars of Jewish law and rabbis. Certainly there is no Torah or halakhic value in them. Hold whatever party you want, and good health to you. Second, in my view kiddushin (ordinary ones, between heterosexual couples) are not a ceremony in the usual sense. They are a legal act with legal consequences. All the surrounding fanfare is not essential and does not really interest me. I will mention here my remarks about challah-separation ceremonies (modern Jewish paganism; see column 392).
Still, I must note that here the situation is more serious. We are talking about designing a ceremony whose whole point is the formalization of wrongdoing, and not just any ceremony. And all of this is done by a rabbi in the name of Jewish law and in a Torah guise. To my mind, this is roughly like establishing a ceremony for a son beginning conjugal life with his mother. There too it spares him loneliness, and it has human and therapeutic value for him/them. Moreover, the ceremony Rabbi Polisuk speaks about includes an oath, and he even raises the possibility of inserting blessings there. That means the design of the ceremony is not merely something for emotional functionaries and ceremony producers of various kinds, but is meant to form part of the halakhic world. I must say that I have no objection whatsoever to people who want to design various ceremonies for various occasions, even if a transgression is involved. That is their business, and each according to his taste. I object only to its being done in a Torah guise, as if there were some commandment here or a substitute for a commandment. There is no such thing here at all.
Although I have nothing against people with this orientation, and I share their distress and would very much like to help them in it, Jewish law is not a spade to dig with. Whoever turns it into such, and uses oaths or blessings within an invented ceremony that has no halakhic meaning, is in fact not even performing a commandment that comes through a transgression, but simply committing a transgression that profanes the entire world of commandments.
But even apart from the transgression involved. I would not construct a ceremony in honor of eating breakfast, although that too answers a need and solves many problems. Incidentally, one can find sources praising breakfast (morning bread), and still, with all due respect to the Hasidim and their ritual elaborations, this is a human need and not a religious act. And if we are talking about eating pork for breakfast, all the less would I make an elaborate ceremonial production out of it, and certainly not drag oaths and blessings in the name of God into it. It seems strange to me that in order to ground his very non-formalist claim, Rabbi Polisuk walks along seemingly very formalist and halakhic paths that in fact empty his arguments of content.
Conclusion
I very much identify with the situation and with the distress of same-sex couples. I also see no moral problem in such a partnership, and even in such sexual relations (only a halakhic one). I am also no great conservative, and certainly not a zealot driven by instincts that oppose everything new even when it is not contrary to Jewish law. I live at peace with every person's outlook, even if in my opinion he is gravely mistaken, and even if he is driven by desires, needs, and interests (which of us is not?). Despite, and perhaps precisely because of, all this, I would make do with saying that such couples have a real need and it should not be belittled. I would add that they have no kosher outlet according to Jewish law, and therefore let them do what they think best (preferably dress in black and go somewhere far away), and let them design ceremonies for themselves as they understand and as they wish. We will all respect this in silence and certainly not harass them or add to their distress. Yair Lapid or some other Reform woman rabbi can marry them in a festive and tear-jerking ceremony, and everyone will be very happy and moved. And in the end they really should be equal-rights members in every religious community and in the synagogue. All this is entirely correct from my point of view.
What nevertheless troubles me is that, from my point of view, responding to such distress is not a service that Jewish law provides, and it is also not the role of a man of Jewish law. (Incidentally, a rabbi is not supposed to design a ceremony even for ordinary kiddushin. Let him conduct the blessings and the legal and halakhic acts, and that is all. People whose profession is emotionally stirring ceremonies for our enjoyment also need a livelihood. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and unto Yair Lapid what is Yair Lapid's.) What troubles me here is solely the instrumental use of Jewish law and turning it into a spade to dig with, and even more than that, the functioning of the rabbi as a provider of needs and a solver of psychological problems. My problem is mainly with the cheapening of Jewish law and the cheapening of the rabbi's role. Rabbis have become couples therapists, providers of emotional services, ceremony editors, dispensers of vorts, and suppliers of tear-jerking festive speeches to their communities. The matter of Jewish law and learning has long ceased to be an essential factor in the role of the rabbi in our world. Here we saw an example of the use of distinctively rabbinic capacities, Jewish law and learning, but this was done in order to provide services of those kinds (which in fact came to replace them).
Discussion
I have addressed this more than once, so I’ll answer briefly.
1. How do I know? From the same place I know any moral fact: from my moral understanding or my conscience. Do you expect me to bring a source from Kant or from Midrash Rabbah?
2. You distinguish between a moral wicked person and a halakhically wicked person. But even on the halakhic plane, there is nothing wicked about their conduct. Far less than Sabbath desecrators who choose to do so without any distress whatsoever—just plain heretics. And for some reason homosexuals are taboo, but Sabbath desecrators are also called up to the Torah. I have seen an upside-down world. These are people who suffer greatly through no fault of their own, and I assume you could not cope with it any better than they do (I certainly couldn’t). Therefore, even if I hold that this is a grave transgression, that has nothing to do with wickedness. If a secular Jew is like a captive child and is not treated as wicked, then these all the more so, since they do so because of their impossible distress. To call them “transgressors in brazen defiance” is somewhere between lack of understanding and wickedness.
3. Before you silence “idiots” like Rabbi Polisuk, you would do very well to learn to silence the idiot you would see in the mirror every morning, if you actually looked. Someone who recommends that such people marry a woman is somewhere between a donkey and an idiot, and really ought to keep quiet. And someone who thinks the problem with such marriages is the lack of love is an even bigger idiot. That is precisely not the problem. He may love a woman very much, but not be attracted to her and not be able to have sexual relations with her. A word is worth a sela, silence two.
As I was reading, I realized I should have deleted this foolish comment. But I left it here for everlasting disgrace, together with my remarks. If you continue in this vein, then I will indeed delete it.
It would be proper for a same-sex couple marrying halakhically as stated above to observe the laws of niddah and the required distancing practices. Immersion in the mikveh can be done in shifts. The ritual of niddah and purification is a cornerstone of Jewish couplehood; the distancing and the renewed closeness are a kind of teasing that increases love and desire and strengthens the bond between the partners (or so the experts and bridal instructors say). In addition, the seven clean days, the examinations (you’ll find a creative way for a man to do that, don’t worry), the washing, and finally the great moment of placing the impure body into the water three valid times and transforming it into a pure one, ready and available to fulfill the commandment in purity of soul—surely this is no less than a wedding ceremony.
May it be His will that this merit stand by them, and may we bring peace upon Israel. Yet old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem… and the streets of the city shall be filled with boys and girls playing in its streets… even in My eyes it shall be wondrous, says the Lord of Hosts. Amen, selah.
Why is there such a great uproar over a 26-year-old fellow flaunting borrowed feathers? How much has he already managed to study and master? How many Torah scholars has he served?
Being a rabbi and a halakhic decisor is much more than knowing a few laws learned in five years in kollel.
If we made a stir over every young avrech who finished exams and wrote a pamphlet, there would not be enough ink left in the world.
“Rabbi”—how amusing.
Here is what he testified about himself a few months ago:
I am Rafael Yonatan, 26 years old. I was born in Rio de Janeiro to a traditional family. I immigrated to Israel at age nine, and became religious at age thirteen. At sixteen I finished high school and continued to Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva. During that period I founded, together with friends, study-hall nuclei in Bnei Akiva. At age twenty, after quite a few dates and scarring conversion treatments, I left the yeshiva and the movement and came out of the closet, and since then I have been active in the religious LGBT community.
About a year ago I received rabbinic ordination במסגרת a private ordination initiative.
Well said. Sharp and to the point.
I have a question about the Sifra itself. Looking back, it seems to me a bit far-fetched that the Sifra has any connection to reality. Were same-sex relationships legally institutionalized thousands of years ago? Maybe it only seems strange to us because we have lived for 2,000 years under the very strong influence of the monotheistic religions? I admittedly do not know ancient history all that well, but from what I do know I have never heard of accepted same-sex relationships, let alone institutionalized ones.
If we assume for a moment that the Sifra was mistaken about reality—that in Egypt there really was no institutionalized relationship of same-sex couples, and therefore “like the practice of the land of Egypt” refers to something else (perhaps some kind of idolatrous ritual?)—shouldn’t that change the ruling itself, or at least place it on new foundations, as for example with lice on Shabbat (which are not generated ex nihilo)?
First, in my opinion this is not factually far-fetched.
Second, there is quite a bit of anachronism in Hazal (for example, reclining at the Passover Seder).
Third, as explained in the midrash, this is about acts that are problematic in themselves, not only because such things happened to be the law there. So even if historically it is not correct, the interpretation is not far-fetched.
And finally, in order to overturn that ruling, even if it is possible, you need a high level of certainty in your factual assumption.
Let me sharpen my question. In the post you distinguished between the act itself and the institutionalization of the relationship. Regarding the act itself, it is hard to interpret the verses otherwise, and it is also quite clear that it existed (at the very least; it may even have been common) from the very fact that the Torah addresses it at all.
What seems factually far-fetched to me is that a same-sex relationship was institutionalized. We are talking about a period in which a father was allowed to sell his daughter as a maidservant, slavery was completely accepted, and there was a commandment to kill witches—so on the one hand all that, but on the other hand they were so liberal that two women would get married through the Egyptian rabbinate?
And in Leviticus 18 all the prohibitions of forbidden sexual relations appear, and only after all the incest prohibitions among relatives comes a verse about Molech and then male homosexual intercourse. That may not be strong enough proof, but it does make sense to assume that male homosexual intercourse was somehow connected to idolatry—maybe it was part of some ritual like Molech?
I did not understand the remark about anachronism—what does that mean? Reclining at the Seder night, as far as I know, is not a Torah commandment, while male homosexual intercourse is. But what about institutionalizing the relationship—do you mean to say that is problematic only rabbinically? And does that hold even if they misunderstood what the Torah was talking about (“like the practice of the land of Egypt”)?
Main headline on YNET – we are not reproducing properly.
This is what happens when people give moral legitimacy to homosexuality and claim that widespread procreation is also not a moral matter.
Then you get homosexual families with a man + man + one child imported from abroad + a cat (the cat, of course, doesn’t count).
This is what happens when people try to cling to a liberal image and curry favor with certain populations. They are destroying the state.
*A detailed response to Rabbi Michael Abraham’s words*
Response by Rabbi Rafael Yonatan Polisuk
First of all, it is important for me to open with respect for Torah scholars. Rabbi Michael Abraham is among the leading voices everywhere, great in thought and in halakha, and a man of great inner integrity. Therefore I appreciate the very fact of his respectful engagement with the matter. I do not take it for granted at all. His recognition that my words are not spoken מתוך a Reform approach but rather an Orthodox and halakhic one, even if he disagrees with them sharply, is in my eyes an exemplary model of a dispute for the sake of Heaven whose end is to endure.
Below is my response to the main points of his claims:
A. Every prohibition has a definition and boundaries. Just as in order to fulfill the commandment of eating matzah a certain “measure” is required, so too in order to violate the prohibition of carrying on Shabbat, and in the present case—in order to violate the prohibition of “like the practice of the land of Egypt.” And this is the essence of the responsum: the discussion of the parameters of this prohibition. For even if we accept the rabbi’s assumption, according to which every same-sex relationship (between men) includes male homosexual intercourse—an assumption that we will need to refute later—the question would still remain whether we have here one prohibition or two, and what degree of overlap there is between them.
In my words I emphasized, and repeatedly clarified, that the discussion here concerns the above prohibition and the view that it constitutes a prohibition on the relationship in itself, even without any sexual act. The rabbi calls this “the detachment thesis,” but in fact this is a simple halakhic question of the kind discussed in any responsa literature: is there an additional prohibition here or not, what are its parameters, and what follows from that. What practical difference does it make? First of all, for the truth of Torah itself: one prohibition is not like two prohibitions, just as violating a Torah prohibition is not like violating a rabbinic one. One must descend to the depth of halakha and clarify the matter properly. Not to mention that this may ease, in actual halakhic practice, the plight of religious men and women who are constantly told that their very shared life—even without a wedding ceremony and without any sexual act—constitutes a violation of a Torah prohibition. There is here a real question and a real distress that demands an answer.
On the contrary, I say explicitly: just as the prohibition of niddah, which a couple that does not observe Torah and mitzvot will certainly violate, does not necessarily “color” their entire relationship, nor even their marital status, with the colors of prohibition—so too one can say here. Thus even if it were completely clear that the couple before us did not intend to refrain from the prohibition of male homosexual intercourse or women engaging in mesolelot, this would not mean that the very existence of the bond between them violates a Torah prohibition, and that has many implications.
B. The discussion of the halakhic significance of the Sifra is seriously deficient when one ignores the fact that it stands in plain contradiction to the Gemara in Shabbat and Yevamot. All the decisors, early and later, who cite the Sifra as halakha are forced to reconcile this contradiction. It would therefore have been possible simply to say that the Bavli disagrees with the Sifra and that its words were not ruled halakhically, or that they are aggadic statements—and this is what emerges from most of the early authorities, as I showed.
Rabbi M. Abraham claims that I am making a tendentious choice to take the Sifra out of its plain meaning by way of a fine inference in the Rambam. But the very act of bringing the Sifra as halakha alongside accepting the Bavli’s words requires such a hermeneutic move—and this is exactly what the Rambam himself wrote explicitly in Sefer HaMitzvot. And this inference is not mine at all; this is what the Mishneh Kesef wrote: “for it contains a prohibition in itself, namely a prohibition of forbidden sexual relations,” and likewise the Bach, the Perishah, and the Arukh HaShulchan, to whom Rabbi Michael did not respond. Reading the Sifra as a prohibition on the sexual acts is precisely what enables the Rambam to rule that certain relations between women are a Torah transgression and “an additional prohibition beyond all the forbidden sexual relations in the Torah.” If the sinful act prohibited by “like the practice of the land of Egypt” were conducting some ceremony or establishing a shared household, such a comparison could not be made and the prohibition could not be grounded as above. I also brought this from Rabbi Yozer Ariel’s article in Shurat HaDin.
These matters are spelled out explicitly in the words of the author of Kiryat Melekh Rav, the foremost and earliest representative of the view that sees in the Sifra an independent prohibition on institutionalized couplehood: “In an established manner, in the way a man marries a woman—such a thing is forbidden by Torah law, because it is truly like the practice of the land of Egypt. But not in the manner of marriage, merely incidentally, in promiscuity—it is not forbidden, because this is not truly like the practice of the land of Egypt… Rather, he holds that at least a rabbinic prohibition exists, lest they desire a strange body and do so.” The rabbi claims, somewhat astonishingly, that “every relationship is forbidden, even if occasional, and institutionalization is the father of all relationships.” So what exactly is the “relationship” the rabbi is speaking about? If it is the sexual relationship—how would merely changing the status affect it or impose on it a prohibition in itself, and vice versa?
C. This is the place to address the claim that same-sex couplehood necessarily includes male homosexual intercourse. Rabbi Abraham formulates the couple’s question as though speaking of institutionalizing the relationship “bypasses” the heart of the matter, since “how do they intend to institutionalize a relationship… one of whose central cores is a prohibition…,” relying on the saying “everyone knows why the bride enters the bridal canopy” and similar expressions.
But couplehood is not identical to the prohibited sexual act. Male homosexual intercourse is a particular, defined sexual act, not a general title for every bond between men; this is simple in the Gemara and in all the decisors. In practice—as anyone familiar with this reality up close knows—there can be a relationship between men that does not include the prohibited act. Broad studies conducted on this matter indicate that most same-sex couples in the world do not engage in that act (percentages several times higher than those who observe niddah among the Jewish people). So there is here an inaccurate projection from one world of concepts and norms onto another.
Sexuality and secondary intimacy are not within the definition of male homosexual intercourse, and it is possible that there is no prohibition in them at all. This depends on the question whether there is a prohibition of intimacy with a male in the category of forbidden relations—a sugya to which I alluded in footnote 7. Rabbi M. Abraham quotes my words as though this were a meaningless reservation and does not address it at all, but the truth is that many religious gay men do indeed navigate their lives in this way, with great self-sacrifice, in order to avoid violating the prohibition. And as I wrote in the body of the responsum, these are matters for which modesty is appropriate, and they are fit for private guidance—guidance that I provide to anyone who asks, out of a desire to enable people to live as full a life as possible within the bounds of halakha. But as stated, they are not the subject of this responsum.
And certainly the presumption of kashrut stands for the person who stands before me, especially when it is a person who insists on remaining religious and observant even while the community rejects him. On what basis should we suspect a decent person and cast such aspersions on him merely because of his love for someone of his own sex? It seems that Rabbi M. Abraham’s words in this matter reflect a certain disconnect from the actual world of religious LGBT people.
D. I conclude section A of my responsum, dealing with the question of the prohibition of “like the practice of the land of Egypt,” with the words: “After clarifying that there is no prohibition in the very establishment and institutionalization of same-sex couplehood, one must consider the value and mitzvah inherent in such a relationship in itself.” The entirety of section B is meant as words of encouragement—between halakha and thought—regarding the value of such a relationship. It contains no independent claim to permit anything, and the attempt to present it as such sins against the truth. In truth, there is no need to permit what, in my view, has been shown at length to be permitted.
Rabbi M. Abraham sees in my words a lack of honesty and a tendentiousness: according to him, I interpret the Gemara here according to its plain meaning against the verses according to his method, whereas the Sifra I interpret not according to its plain meaning on the basis of the verses. But this claim does not stand, because the Sifra itself contradicts the Bavli, and in order to bring it as halakha the decisors had to take one of the sources out of its plain meaning. By contrast, here there is no contradiction, and it is entirely possible to say that in addition to what the Rambam and the Shulchan Arukh wrote, there is also a broader value and mitzvah in couplehood, as written by the Radakh and in Batim LeVadim.
The claim about mixing human and emotional considerations, supposedly out of a desire to find them Torah support, is most puzzling—because this is a human and emotional matter of the highest order. On the contrary: LGBT people constantly hear that the Torah expects them to sacrifice their humanity and their emotions in the name of Torah. Against that I came in my words, asking to strengthen and say that there is value in their seeking a life of love and couplehood, in their refusal to abandon the image of God within them to a soul-crushing life of loneliness. The entire force of the mitzvah “it is not good for man to be alone” stands on the seam between halakha and meta-halakhah, and it opens a space that makes it possible to see Torah value in couplehood and in preventing loneliness in themselves.
The rabbi’s claim that same-sex couplehood increases thoughts of transgression is very puzzling, especially in light of what we know about single life outside the bounds of the religious world. Does a person become an asexual creature without couplehood? The opposite is true, for “he who has bread in his basket is not like one who does not,” and we see with our own eyes how people who decree lifelong singleness upon themselves for halakhic reasons fall sooner or later into a life of debauchery and casual relations. Is the rabbi’s role here that of “providing needs and solving emotional problems”? Absolutely. This is a first-order rabbinic responsibility—to be ready to bear the costs and implications of our statements and rulings for the religious lives of the people who come to us.
E. The rabbi expresses in his words revulsion and reservation toward the need for a ceremony that has no halakhic value, and says this is not the role of a rabbi, who is nothing but a man of halakha. First, I must say that in my responsum I proposed a track that does not purport to be kiddushin, but nevertheless grants the ceremony halakhic significance and validity—a proposal the rabbi chose not to address.
But beyond that: even if the ceremony contained no binding halakhic act at all—would that exhaust our religious lives? What about the dozens of ceremonies we conduct that have no mention in the Mishnah or the Talmud—from the celebration of a baby girl and naming, through the upsherin, to bar and bat mitzvah and engagement, and many more like them? All of them are intended to make the Holy One, blessed be He, present in the cycle of life, to thank Him for His kindnesses, and to call in His name. Rabbis and halakhic authorities, among other things, have a role in helping shape such ceremonies—both in setting halakhic boundaries, regarding what is permitted and forbidden in them, and in providing spiritual guidance. If the rabbi has a principled difficulty with this, then this is not merely a disagreement with me, but a disagreement with the Jewish people throughout its generations, and perhaps even with the very idea of religious feeling itself.
F. Here too it is appropriate to address style. Throughout his words Rabbi M. Abraham repeatedly emphasizes his awareness of the distress of LGBT people in religious society, yet at the same time he chooses to use images and formulations that express disparagement and lack of empathy. The comparison, for example, to the marriage of a son and his mother—saying that there too “it prevents loneliness and has human and therapeutic value”—expresses a basic lack of understanding of the reality of exclusive attraction to the same sex, and compares it to a sexual whim, indeed one involving a grave moral distortion of incest within the family.
These things continue as well in statements about conducting ceremonies by “Yair Lapid or a Reform woman rabbi,” and doing so while dressed in black and in a distant place. And here, in my opinion, the rabbi misses the heart of the matter. The couples who have approached me and other rabbis over the years seek to attach themselves to the inheritance of the Lord, to express their joy and to make the Holy One, blessed be He, present precisely from within the place of “this is the word of God—this is halakha,” and from there also comes the desire to help them.
Why not a Reform woman rabbi, then? Because these are Orthodox, traditional, commandment-observant Jews, with great self-sacrifice. To reject this desire for closeness to God within the four cubits of halakha as mere sentimentality and as making the Torah a spade with which to dig is nothing but narrow-mindedness. And the Lord sees the heart.
I will conclude with the prayer that the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable before God and man.
This is a response copied from his words.
I got a bit confused by the respondent’s words. Does he mean to exempt same-sex couples from the prohibition punishable by stoning, or also from “the Flood”?
Does he permit intercourse by way of limbs between two males? Does he mean that institutionalizing the relationship with a Shavuot ceremony, similar to marriage, also permits sexual release by way of limbs and solves the problem of “playing with children” (does he mean that the Bavli in Niddah refers only to casual relations)? Is his halakhic ruling that from the moment the relationship is halakhically institutionalized, a person’s halakhic partner is permitted to him, and therefore almost whatever a person wants to do with him he may do—embrace him whenever he wishes, kiss every limb he wishes, and have intercourse with him by way of limbs?
You probably are not familiar with the historical reality. There is no contradiction at all between what you described and a tolerant, even encouraging, attitude toward homosexuality. There are very conservative societies that saw nothing wrong with it, or that allowed surrender to this inclination. You are mixing contemporary phenomena (where the attitude toward homosexuality depends on conservatism versus liberalism) with history. And if it was connected to some sort of idolatry as you suggested, then I am certainly right.
There is no connection at all to the question whether this is de’oraita or derabbanan. I gave an example of anachronism. The sages were certain that at the Exodus from Egypt people reclined in a manner of freedom, even though reclining is a Roman phenomenon. In the past people were less aware that norms in reality change. That is all. What I argued is that the sages’ interpretation relied on their own anachronism regarding the past.
Crushing arguments. Fortunate are you that you are zealous. Zealotry, beyond all its other shortcomings, causes people to talk nonsense and raise ridiculous arguments and baseless labels. And here we have a marvelous example of all that. Go forth and succeed.
I will try to respond briefly.
A. I understood very well that the discussion is only about the institutionalization, and I argued that this too is prohibited by force of the Sifra. When I spoke about the detachment thesis, I was not referring to that discussion at all. By detachment I meant the notion that one can celebrate the establishment of the home even though the sexual relations within it are prohibited. That sounds implausible to me. I was not speaking at all about a detachment between the prohibition on institutionalization and the prohibition on sexual relations, but rather whether it is fitting to celebrate the institutionalization when the relations are prohibited.
Incidentally, even according to my own view it is not certain that the prohibition on institutionalization written in the Sifra is a separate prohibition. It may be part of the prohibition on same-sex relations.
But even if I were arguing what Rabbi Polisuk attributes to me, the comparison to the prohibition of niddah is irrelevant. A secular couple is not compelled to violate the prohibition of niddah. They got married, and that is what I celebrate. The fact that they choose to violate the prohibitions of niddah is an independent decision (and therefore Rabbi Polisuk is wrong in saying they will “necessarily” violate it). By contrast, a same-sex home necessarily involves a prohibition. It is the same decision.
B. It is hard to get into fine points about the meaning of the Sifra here. I wrote my arguments, and I do not accept most of the inferences (including in the Rambam), although as I wrote, I do not think this is an absurd position. I merely noted a tendentiousness: even according to his own view, that the Rambam is to be inferred as he says (which I do not accept), here Rabbi Polisuk prefers the commentators against the plain meaning of the Sifra, and later he does the opposite.
C. Couplehood is not identical with sexual relations. Obviously. Still, it is clear that sexual relations are an important part of it. I am not familiar with the studies Rabbi Polisuk mentioned, and maybe I am mistaken. But that is my impression: simply speaking, it is clear that this home also includes sexual relations. I would be very surprised to discover otherwise. But it may be that I really am disconnected from that world and do not understand it properly. I am willing to accept that point.
D. Of course singles can also engage in prohibited sexual relations. But same-sex couplehood makes sexual relations more available. When you are secluded with someone forbidden to you, does that not increase thoughts of transgression? All the laws of seclusion, and plain reasoning as well, cry out the opposite.
E. I chose to ignore the ceremony, and I explained why. Giving such things Torah significance is problematic in my eyes.
And indeed, all the “religious” ceremonies people make have no religious significance in my view. It is mere folklore. And if someone wants to make the Holy One, blessed be He, present in his world—good for him. That is not a rabbi’s role, and there is no need at all for a rabbi to guide him on how to do it. Let him do it however he wants. Such guidance gives him the illusion that his act has some specific halakhic significance that belongs to a rabbi and to rabbinic expertise.
F. My comparison to the marriage of a son and his mother was meant to emphasize a logical principle. And indeed I stand by my words that this too relieves loneliness. Rabbi Polisuk decided that this is merely a sexual whim—something he would have been offended by if I had said it about same-sex relations. There is a son and mother who fell in love and want to live together. Does that not relieve loneliness and answer a real need? What is the difference? Nor is there any trace of a moral problem in it so long as they are adults and of sound mind. So I ask whether he would conduct a religious ceremony giving Torah significance to the establishment of their home. According to his own method I would expect that he certainly would. The protest against the comparison is based on a misunderstanding of my words, and it constitutes an evasion of my question.
I understand very well that the couples who approached Rabbi Polisuk seek to attach themselves to the inheritance of the Lord, to express their joy, and to make the Holy One, blessed be He, present precisely from within the place of “this is the word of God—this is halakha.” But that is precisely what I object to, because through this act they are not attaching themselves to the inheritance of the Lord. And the rabbinic stamp misleads them into thinking that they are.
The Gentiles prided themselves on not writing a ketubah for a male—that is, on not institutionalizing the forbidden relationship.
How does one explain, from a halakhic standpoint, the possibility (praised by Hazal) of marriage between a couple who have already passed childbearing age?
I didn’t understand. Because it is not good for man to be alone. Or out of concern for forbidden thoughts (which also exist after that age), or companionship to relieve loneliness. Clearly there is value in this, and it is good advice for life.
And the explanation is not “from a halakhic standpoint.”
The rabbi keeps writing that in his opinion there is no moral problem in such relations, only a halakhic one. In your opinion, is there a moral problem in consensual relations between an adult brother and sister, or an adult son and his mother? If so—what is the problem? And what is the difference between that and relations between a man and a man or a woman and a woman? Is it the fact that there is such an inclination? And if in the future an inclination of siblings to marry one another were discovered?
I have also repeatedly written that there is no moral problem with a son and his mother or a brother and his sister. I do not see the slightest trace of a problem there.
This article clearly shows that Michi Abraham is an upright person who seeks truth in a rare way, and not just some prettified postmodern heretic. Most of the various “heretical” rabbis (and there are plenty of those today) find halakhic permissions for sexual matters like homosexuality or wasting seed, or something else in the sexual realm (in the spirit of “Israel did not worship idolatry,” etc.). But the “heretic” Rabbi Michi stands with self-sacrifice in defense of the truth of Torah, without distorting anything, while at the same time defending the rights of miserable people.
I have to say that this integrity won me over.
(This comment is not intended for Michi himself, but for the other readers so that they notice this point.)
Nowadays, thank God, there are search engines. There is no need to speculate about fields you have no knowledge of—just search on Google or AI.
Specifically here, I did that little service for you. It turns out that in ancient Egypt it is highly probable that a monogamous same-sex sexual relationship was accepted, and there is also a fair chance that it was institutionalized:
https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%94%D7%95%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%A7%D7%A1%D7%95%D7%90%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA_%D7%91%D7%9E%D7%A6%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D_%D7%94%D7%A2%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%A7%D7%94
Incidentally, in ancient Greece it is known with certainty that there was an institution of same-sex marriage, even though everyone was conservative and religious. It simply was not perceived as something objectionable:
https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%94%D7%95%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%A7%D7%A1%D7%95%D7%90%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA_%D7%91%D7%99%D7%95%D7%95%D7%9F_%D7%94%D7%A2%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%A7%D7%94
Rabbi, I do not understand how you do not see this as a problem. Male homosexual intercourse is not something that is supposed to be according to nature, and even animals do not do it, and man was not created for this.
Animals do not speak either. So is speech immoral? Most people speak slander, so is such speech moral? What does that have to do with anything?
According to the rabbi, is there no moral problem in relations between an adult son and his mother?! Do we need the words of Hazal and the Written Torah in order not to shudder and vomit at the very thought of such a thing?!
Forgive the emotional response. I know the honorable rabbi is against arguments from emotion. But I fear that one who analyzes such an issue only from the intellectual and rational angle, until he reaches the conclusion that were it not for Torah, and if such a socially explosive phenomenon were to exist, it would be “morally acceptable,” then the honorable rabbi is guilty of what you yourself have defined publicly in a number of your books and articles as “the vacuity of the analytic.” And if we need a rational argument—the obligation to refrain from such an abomination is because there is here a betrayal of the most basic trust that ought to exist between a mother and her son—the moral obligation on her part to raise him until adulthood (of course that does not mean indulging all his whims), and on the son’s part the obligation to honor her and repay her with gratitude in old age—a family solidarity that must under no circumstances be translated into an interest of attaining desire and sex.
Indeed I recoil from emotional responses, and this is one example of why. You have raised no argument whatsoever besides emotional revulsion. If that is what this is about, then just take a pill for nausea. There is not the slightest trace here of any betrayal of anything. We are speaking of two adults who love each other romantically and who, in clear mind and willing soul, want to establish a shared home. And when she grows old he will care for her doubly, both as husband and as son. As it is said: whether as sons or as servants. And he will not do this for the sake of fulfilling his desire. If you do that for your wife only so that you can fulfill your sexual desire, then it seems to me that between the two of us, the one who ought to examine his morality is not me.
I do not know where the things you quoted are from, but I know R. Rafael personally, and as far as I remember he is about 28 or 29. He really is a young Torah scholar, and it is not clear to me why his age is relevant to the matter.
Rav Kook published his first books at the age of twenty-three. Rambam published his Commentary on the Mishnah at thirty and began it at twenty. Does that detract from the value of their words? Accept the truth from whoever says it, or reject the arguments themselves.
The question in my opinion is simple: did you read the responsum? Do you have a substantive response to it?
He brings a whole battery of sources and decisors, so why latch onto his age instead of dealing with the arguments themselves? It is neither respectable nor serious.
Mikhali, the point is that “because of” his “sexual desire” there is here a conditioning of affection on romantic attachment—if they separate, if they divorce, if they quarrel, then ostensibly the connection is severed, and that is not what should characterize the relationship of a mother and her son. But it is morally possible between married people. The non-emotional part of my response says briefly that if there is a need for logic here: if one starts from the point of view that there is a duty of help and mutuality without conditions between family members, the moment you add the dimension of desire it undermines that duty of help by making it conditional. Like, by way of comparison, in my opinion the prohibition on sexual relations between a psychologist and a patient, and the like—even after treatment ends.
The rest of your response I both accept and disagree with at the same time. I understand that in your view emotions have no importance. If that is within certain limits—in my opinion they do. Liberation from a universal taboo also indicates a deep and correct intuition in such cases.
And by the way,
one should be precise.
I did not say that you need to examine your morality in your personal life, which is none of my business, but rather the category of radical analytical thinking that leads to distortions in moral conclusions.
You are, of course, free to disagree.
And by the way, the sages agree both with me and with you on this issue: by Torah law a righteous convert is permitted to marry his converted sister, and if my memory does not fail me, also his converted mother, because there is here a new halakhic status in which they are not relatives. But rabbinically this was prohibited because of desecration of God’s name and so that following conversion people would not come to leniency in matters of sanctity.
I was not dealing with personal morality but with moral conceptions. I will permit myself to leave your last bit of pilpul without a response. I think anyone can easily understand that it is baseless.
Michi.
What is baseless—my comparison between the prohibition of relations within the family and relations between therapist and patient, student and lecturer, and the like, because it may undermine the duty of unconditional help? Or my distinction between natural morality and Torah law, which I find that Hazal also made when they prohibited rabbinically marriage between relatives who converted?
The claim that there is no moral prohibition in homosexual couplehood (one that includes sexual relations) reflects a misunderstanding.
No one throughout history claimed that such couplehood harms society, harms freedom of expression, or damages human happiness; clearly there is no moral problem in homosexual couplehood in that narrow sense of the term “morality.”
So what sort of value problem is involved? The point is that the world of values does not begin and end with morality in its narrow sense. Morality in its narrow sense is only a general prohibition against causing suffering and emotional pain to people, but the world of values reflected in our intuitions is far broader. We also see value in not stealing another person’s money. And why? Because he will feel bad if we take it? No—because that money is his, and one may not take from a person what is his. Likewise we see value in science and philosophy. And why? Because intuitively we feel (behold with the eye of the intellect) that there is such value.
And so too we feel and understand that there is a severe value problem in having sexual relations with one’s mother or sister. One may dismiss that feeling as some psychological construct or a feeling of disgust, but one can dismiss all our value intuitions in a similar way. If we are consistent in the trust we place in our intuition, it is correct to conclude from this that there is some value at stake in not having sexual relations with one’s mother. Sexual relations with one’s mother or sister are a severe violation of the values of holiness. Just as we have intuitions about moral and legal values, so too we have intuitions about values of holiness, and we also feel regarding homosexual couplehood that it is a severe violation of the values of holiness.
In the Torah it is said regarding the section of forbidden sexual relations: “Do not defile yourselves with any of these things, for by all these the nations before you were defiled, and let not the land vomit you out as it vomited out the nation before you” (not an exact quote). That is, even the nations before the giving of the Torah should have understood the prohibitions of forbidden sexual relations on their own, and when they did not understand them—they were expelled from the land for that. Here is one more thing that can be learned from the Bible.
Despite my fundamental lack of understanding, I will nevertheless try to explain to you that what you say is the misunderstanding.
When I said there is no moral problem in this, I did not say there is no value problem in it. I am saying that now. There are values that are neither halakhic nor moral (I have written here more than once about aesthetic values, and values of personal perfection—as in growth in science and philosophy, which are of this type. I have also written about that more than once).
Now I will add that I also do not see any value problem in this at all, even beyond morality. Those intuitive feelings people have stem from long-standing social constructions, and the fact is that they disappear as the years go by. But on that I can understand if you disagree. That is of course your right. The same applies to relations between a son and his mother.
It is not true that no one claims there is a moral problem here in the narrow sense. Many people do claim that.
The prohibition on taking someone’s property is a thoroughly moral prohibition. That is true even if the person does not suffer from it. You have violated his rights. He can of course waive them, in which case there is no problem. But so long as he has not waived them, there is a moral problem. Harm to another is not only harm to his feelings.
You draw conclusions from the verse and hint that this is evidence that one can learn something from the Bible. But that is precisely not so. One can understand that there is a value problem here outside the realm of morality. One can also understand that the land vomited them out because it does not like such inhabitants, even if this is only a halakhic problem and they were under no obligation to understand it. The land vomits them out not as a punishment for moral or religious criminality, but as a result of their unsuitable character. You of course assume that this comes to teach about a value problem, but that is your assumption. I learn otherwise, because my assumption is otherwise. And there you have it: there is nothing to learn from the Bible, and when people do learn from it, it is only what they already thought was right to begin with.
If you indeed claim that there is no value problem here at all—that is another story. But such a claim requires reasons; it is like claiming that there is no prohibition at all against insulting people. That is a claim contrary to accepted intuitions, and therefore it also requires some additional proof.
As for the prohibition on taking another person’s money—that depends on how one defines a “moral prohibition.” It is certainly not a moral prohibition in the narrow sense. Why is it a wrong to take from a person a lost object that he has just picked up in the street? Do we suppose that providence arranged that lost object for him? Clearly one cannot find a moral “reason” for this prohibition. This prohibition stems from the fact that once the money is in a person’s possession, it automatically belongs to him, and therefore we have no right to enter his domain and take what is his—just as we may not take his legs or his fingers, even though he did not labor for them and there is no objective reason they should be his. Since they are his, that very fact limits us from taking from him what is his. But is that prohibition “moral”? Is there some moral reason not to take a person’s fingers and give them to someone else who urgently needs them? And what if that person would not even feel or know that his fingers had been taken? It is hard to see a moral prohibition in taking a hundred shekels from someone who will not even feel the loss in order to give it to a poor man who does not have bread to eat in the morning. This prohibition is not derived from morality in its narrow sense but from justice, from the fact that a person is an autonomy and one may not invade his domain and take what is his.
You see the prohibition on theft as “morality” because you classify all values intelligible to us under the category of “morality.” But in truth this is a more abstract value than that liberal Western “morality.” Evidence for this is that the global left does not identify with the value of private property (usually the justifications for the institution of private property are weak teleological ones, such as the argument that private property enhances a person’s sense of autonomy), and for the same reason it also does not identify with values like incest. But one who opens his eyes and looks directly with the eyes of his intellect will see a whole world of values that is not merely “morality” in the narrow sense.
(One can illustrate this with the value of honoring parents, since a simple examination is enough to see that it is not a moral value in the ordinary sense of the word. Rather, the proper relation toward one’s parents is one of honor. A person’s parents are those who stand in a hierarchy above him—not accidentally, in that they caused him to come into the world, but essentially, in that he exists in the world as their joint creation and continuation. And the proper relation to one who is closer to the root and the source is one of honor. This is a value we all feel in our intuition, yet it too is not really “morality,” and it too has already lost its charm in the secular liberal world. Any value of honor toward a certain person is perceived in the liberal world as something archaic and outdated.)
I do not have the time or strength for all the details, especially since they are repetitive and have already been answered. I will address only the principle: you decided that simple intuition says there is a value problem here. The fact is that these intuitions change all the time. That indicates that they depend on culture and change with it. That was exactly my proof, so I did indeed bring proof. Moreover, you did not bring contrary proof, yet you vigorously claim that it is self-evident. It is not. Not at all. I see in myself and in many others that we had the same intuitions as yours, and they changed.
I think we have exhausted this.
All right, if you do not have the energy—I have no right to tire you out for nothing.
But just one general remark on the argument from the fact that these intuitions change: it is clear to me that if a person lives in a society where murder is an accepted and reasonable thing, his intuition about the moral problem in murder will diminish greatly—not because the prohibition on murder is also a construct, but because when a person becomes accustomed to something and everyone around him sees it as legitimate and normal, and he also gets used to putting his initial intuition through excessive analytical tests, he begins to see his original feelings as psychological constructs. I have no doubt (forgive the presumption) that this is how the Germans became accustomed to the Nazi movement as well. I do not mean to compare them in content, only to illustrate the principle.
It simply must be said that the rabbi is to blame for all the nonsense that Ish HaEmet is writing here.
I identify him as a clear disciple of the rabbi, and the basic psychological error that causes all the synthetic philosophizing (yes, I read most of Two Carts and a Balloon and listened to the rabbi’s lectures on the subject) is what leads to all this. The rabbi is actually falling into a pit he dug for himself.
Just off the top of my head…
At the end of his words the rabbi writes, “I would add that they have no kosher outlet according to halakha, so they should do what they think best (preferably wear black and go to a distant place), and let them design ceremonies for themselves according to their own understanding and wishes.”
What does the rabbi mean by “preferably wear black and go to a distant place”?
A joke. A paraphrase of Rabbi Ilai: if a person sees that his evil inclination is overpowering him, let him go to a distant place, wear black, and do what his heart desires.
A string of quotations is not a “battery,” as Rabbi Michi showed quite easily.
The first thing that amazed me in his “responsum” was the assertion that there is no problem of seclusion between men, along with a rewriting of rabbis’ opinions and presenting their words as sources. The Rambam (following Hazal) explicitly writes that Jewish men too are forbidden to be secluded with gentiles because they are suspected of male homosexual intercourse. The reasoning is so simple, because this may lead to an outright prohibition. It follows that between Jewish men too, a prohibition of seclusion would apply *because* they become suspected of this.
Before even entering the rest of the article, this quotation at the beginning of his remarks already astonished me. And I do not understand why this should not be called Reform? When it is clear that a “rabbi” is juggling things as he pleases in order to paint a target around the arrow—what is supposed to make us judge him favorably?
You simply are not familiar with Michi’s approach. In other posts he explicitly separates between a system of moral values and a system of Torah values (or values of holiness; I do not remember the term he chose). He says he is committed to both, but emphasizes that this does not mean it is something he identifies with emotionally or rationally. God commanded it and therefore it is forbidden—but he does not necessarily identify with it. In fact, he is simply applying the secret of “justifying the judgment”: one should not say “I do not want it,” etc., but rather “I do want it and I do want it—yet what can I do, my Father in Heaven has decreed it.”
*** Deleted due to personal remarks (apologies followed by acting to the contrary are of no help) ***
What is the connection between receiving an aliyah to the Torah and *couple* membership in a religious community, most of whose activity takes place inside a synagogue or is tied to it?
Every person is invited to come up for an aliyah and to sit and pray in the synagogue. Heaven forbid that anyone should be thrown out. But being a member of a religious community centered on a synagogue means not flaunting one’s defiance of halakha openly.
Not speaking out or displaying publicly that you have a concubine or ate a cheeseburger, not asking to recite Birkat HaGomel for a flight taken on Shabbat, and not presenting yourselves as a same-sex couple, when it is clear that this relationship is intended also* in order to engage in forbidden intercourse.
They are welcome to come and sit together in synagogue, to be members of the community *as individuals*, but not to present themselves openly *as a couple* or as living together, and they cannot receive the same treatment given to a couple—a man and a woman—married in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel.
My opinion is similar regarding a man and woman living together without huppah and kiddushin. They are welcome in the synagogue, but they cannot be members as a couple in a religious community centered around a synagogue.
If in their building they play “dwarf and giant” on Purim, they can be included, just as secular families and neighbors are included. They can be invited for a Shabbat meal just as one invites an unmarried secular couple. If there are community / neighborhood / municipal institutions that are not religious, they are welcome to take part in them as a couple—but in my opinion the line must be drawn at membership in a religious social institution where de jure loyalty to halakha, at least outwardly, is the highest obligation.
It is not clear to me where the rabbi gets the idea that there is no moral problem here whatsoever. In my humble opinion, anything that brings about the destruction of the nuclear family (the continuation and advancement of the human species) involves a moral problem.
Likewise, the claim that those who have built their lives upon a grave transgression, brazenly and as a desecration of God’s name, should be allowed to be part of the community—apparently that is not so. Such people must be kept at a distance, as the law requires regarding the wicked. And here it should be said that a wicked person is not necessarily a bad person by our standards. He may be a gentleman and sweet, etc., and yet in the eyes of the Torah he is completely wicked.
In my opinion, their place is outside the camp, and perhaps they should found communities of their own (they can call themselves, in Carlebach style, “the holy congregation of the holy wicked”…) and our camp will be holy. Their very being part of the community causes others to be dragged after them, including people who are married and have established families. They simply sow destruction and loss. And yes, I am very much in favor of people with improper sexual inclinations marrying a spouse of the opposite sex even if it does not really do much for them. Incidentally, that also solves the problem of “it is not good,” etc., as well as the problem of loneliness. And the fact that such marriages do not contain complete love, etc., is only an emotional matter and not even a moral one. It is perfectly fine to play-act it, especially when it serves the continuation of the world (morality) and the fulfillment of the Torah’s commandments.
So yes, we are obligated to silence idiots like “Rabbi” Polisuk.
Something tells me that deep down Rabbi Michi knows this too…