Gvanim Tikkun

Yesterday afternoon an amazing thing happened at my shul. Four people changed the minds of twelve high ranking Israeli Defense Force (IDF) officers. For six years, the Jewish Community Federation (JCF) has run a program in Israel called "Gvanim”, which loosely translates as "rainbow." The program brings together leaders from different walks of Israeli life for a year-long program of study and dialogue about Jewish identity and pluralism. One of the Gvanim members, a retired IDF general, developed an Action Project called Gvanim IDF with a goal of exposing high ranking Army officers to the multiple expressions of Judaism within Israeli society and the Diaspora.

My fellow panelists James M., Lisa F., and Rebecca W. were witness to real life Tikkun (Repair). It all began with our personal stories about the intersection of our Jewish identities and our LGBTQ natures. Rebecca talked about growing up a lesbian in Berkeley with a strong sense of Jewishness, James talked about being gay in Austria and growing up in a dati community that was very oppressive, and Lisa talked about being queer in her pluralistic Midwestern family. My story was simple, I was a trans man (Female-to-Male Transsexual ) and was married with a two and a half year old daughter. I made a conscious decision to out myself on another level, as a Jew by Choice. This did not go over well, in my opinion, judging from the reaction from one particular Lieutenant Colonel who questioned my existence on the panel, "Why didn't you just find another faith, one that would want you, and be easier, because Judaism rejects you." he said this as if he was talking directly to me. Yet, some of the other people on the panel fielded this question thinking that it had been directed at them.

Answers were as eloquent as could be with a simple, "Because I am Jewish," was the common thread to the answers. But when my turn was up again, I directed my answer to the Lt. Col. saying the same thing, "Because I am Jewish," and talked about my conversion in as much detail as I could. I talked about my troubles trying to fit myself into Halakha, struggling with G-d, looking to the Torah for answers, and finding myself in the beginning with Avram and Sarai, Lech L'cha (Go Forth!) and his answer Hineni (Here I Am). In the Torah, everyone is themselves, the men and women who we count as ancestors were flawed human beings, just like us. Continually missing the mark and wrestling with G-d. These is no other religious tradition that captures who I am like Judaism does.

After his question was answered, he went on to ask why we didn't just have a social group where we did text study, instead of a synagogue. To which Rebecca answered, "Because it is a synagogue, not a social club." I kept thinking about how much on the defensive we all were on the bimah that afternoon, and then it happened. People from the group started thanking us for showing them that you could be both LGBT and religiously Jewish. I started feeling really good about being so out there, and talking about my journey to and through Judaism.

The next Lt. Col to talk was someone who hadn't spoken yet, he was the quiet one who was watching it all, and coming to his own informed conclusion. He started off slowly, and as he spoke the room became very still and quiet. He then talked about his uncle who had transitioned from Male-to-Female (MTF) over ten years ago. He said that some of the family had been accepting, but not him, he was against his uncle's decision from the start. Eventually he cut his uncle out of his life, and never thought about him. He said that he had heard that his uncle had gotten married to a man and moved away. He was also using "He" to talk about his MTF family member until the very end. Everyone was leaning in, and I don't remember hearing anything other than his voice. He looked at me and said, "You have changed my mind, and I will call her and try to reconnect." He then walked up to the bimah and handed Lisa a picture of the group of officers as a gift to the synagogue, and a remembrance of the wonderful thing that happened a few moments ago.

The entire panel was alight, because something wonderful had happened, out of the twelve uniformed men and women in front of us, we had changed the heart and mind of one man. Personal stories can change hearts and minds, they can move mountains, and create safe space where there was none. I am in awe of the Lt. Col. looking deep inside, and finding the courage to say that he was wrong to push his family member away because she was different. And I am touched and honored that I was a catalyst, an agent of change for this one man.

After the panel we rose to more than polite claps, it was a really wonderful ovation from a group of people that we somehow connected with on an intimate level. My daughter ran to me, and I picked her up from the floor and introduced her to the Lt. Col. who had just made such a powerful statement, we chatted and I wished him well. I also looked at pictures of children that the other IDF officers had in their bags. It was as if we were all old friends, reconnecting...