Anti-Defamation League regional director Bill Straus, left, attends a rally for equal rights for gays and lesbians and says that there is a human responsibility to reach out to the GLBT community.
Touching wedding scenes in Tony Kushner's biographical documentary, "Wrestling with Angels," capture the powerful convergence of religion and sexuality that Kushner lives, and writes about, as a gay Jewish man. The camera scans the crowd of beaming well-wishers, stopping to catch the shy smile of a flower girl in puffy pastel taffeta, a garland of blossoms on her silky hair; the gorgeous custom-tiered wedding cake; the smiling rabbi; the poetic toast of a proud father to his son.
And while there are two men under the tallit-draped chuppah, rather than a man and a woman, and two tuxedoed grooms who joyfully kiss to seal their union after breaking the requisite glass, rather than one and his beautiful bride, there is a poignancy in the footage that goes beyond the celebration of love and affection.
What does it mean to be Jewish and gay in America? Or Jewish and gay or lesbian or bisexual or transgender in America? In Arizona?
Kushner captured the struggles of a generation of gay men ravaged by AIDS/HIV in his sprawling two-part play "Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes," and the film offers a glimpse of his own journey to self-realization, but there are myriad other stories, myriad other individuals who wrestle with integrating their Jewish and gay identities into a cohesive whole.
How are they doing it - and how as a community are we helping them?
Twice blessed is how Rabbi H. Rafael Goldstein describes himself with a faint smile, borrowing the title of a 1991 classic collection of essays on being Jewish and gay, "Twice Blessed: On Being Lesbian or Gay and Jewish."
Over coffee on a late fall afternoon, he speaks openly of his own journey toward self-acceptance. Born and raisedin suburban New Jersey, Goldstein, vice president for Jewish affairs at Jewish Family & Children's Service and executive director of the JFCS Endowment, tells of a gradual integration of his two identities, gay and Jewish, made even more complicated because of his desire to enter the rabbinate at a time when openly gay Jews were not welcome.
As a college student at Columbia University in the 1970s, Goldstein felt the pull of a rabbinic vocation, pursuing a joint degree from the university and the Jewish Theological Seminary. He began rabbinical studies at JTS after graduation in 1977. The next year, he withdrew from the program.
"It wasn't possible to reconcile being a gay person with being a Conservative rabbi," he says.
Instead he completed a master's in Jewish education at JTS and commenced a career in the Jewish institutional world, working for eight years as a Jewish day school director, first in Omaha, Neb., and then Cincinnati, then accepting a position at the Jewish Federation of North Jersey overseeing its annual campaign.
The move to New Jersey was significant, says the rabbi, because the proximity to New York City allowed him to become part of what was then a burgeoning Jewish gay community. He became active in Congregation Beth Simchat Torah, eventually delivering sermons and serving as a cantor.
"My involvement with Beth Simchat helped me to create that integration," he says, though he still maintained two separate identities, one at work during the week in New Jersey, the other on Shabbat in New York.
He says he never "came out" to his family, but they gradually began to assume his sexual orientation. He did not disclose his gay identity at work.
A number of powerful experiences, including two meaningful trips to Prague, eventually compelled Goldstein to come to terms with his sexuality and also moved him to find a new way to pursue his rabbinic calling.
In Terezin, a Nazi concentration camp where he came face to face with the horrors of the Shoah, Goldstein realized that he needed to do something.
"These people were killed for who they were," he says, "and I could not continue to kill me."
Back home, he felt impelled to respond to the growing AIDS epidemic.
He resigned from his position at the federation and went to work for the AIDS Interfaith Network of New Jersey. He also enrolled in rabbinical school at the Academy for Jewish Religion in New York, a newer, more pluralistic and more welcoming institution.
He was ordained in 1994, and has held several part-time rabbinical positions as well as continuing his career in social work with a particular interest in healing.
He joined JFCS in 2005.
He says his sexual orientation has not been an issue in his work life. He lives in Peoria with his partner and three dogs. He is a member of Temple Chai.
He also is active politically, participating recently in the Seven Straight Nights for Equal Rights rally here, a grass-roots effort in support of equal rights for the GLBT community.
Steve Berger tells another personal story, where some of the same themes resonate.
Born in Chicago, and a Valley resident since the age of 8, Berger graduated from Arizona State University and the University of Arizona College of Law. He came out, he says, while in law school.
Berger, 48, grew up at Har Zion Congregation, and as an adult, has been a member of Temple Chai and now belongs to Temple Solel. He notes a number of milestones that mark the development of his identity as a gay Jewish man. The first was his membership in Mishpacha Am, a Valley gay congregation no longer in existence.
"It was welcoming and safe," says Berger, echoing Goldstein's feelings about joining a gay congregation in New York.
Next, says Berger, was his work in the AIDS/HIV effort, recognized publicly with an award by Congregation Beth Israel. His proud parents and his then-partner, as well as his partner's parents, were sitting in the congregation when he was honored.
"It was," says Berger, "a coming together of all worlds."
A third seminal experience, he says, was the compassion of Rabbi Rick Sherwin, a former rabbi at Beth El Congregation, when Berger's father passed away.
When making the funeral arrangements, a family member asked, "Where does Jeff (Berger's then-partner) sit?" recalls Berger.
Sherwin responded, "Next to Steve with the family."
Berger emphasizes that each person has to find his or her own way to come to terms with his or her own sexual and religious identity.
"You have to come to grips with things yourself," he says, "then family and friends."
He says that parents often have difficulty when looking at the issue in the abstract.
"Twenty years ago, when parents had a son or daughter who was GLBT, it was counter to all the expectations that parents traditionally have for their children. Expectations about grandkids and the family name."
The reaction, he says, was often, "This is terrible. What can be good about this?"
But when the abstract becomes a loving partner, the response often changes.
"Then it becomes, 'Is this person a good person for my child?'"
Berger has had two long-term relationships, a prior one for 12 years and a current one for five years. He and his partner have not had a commitment ceremony.
Neither the current nor the prior partner is Jewish, but both have been supportive and interested in his Jewish involvement, he says.
Berger, a partner in the law firm Engelman Berger PC, has been active in both American Jewish Committee and the Anti-Defamation League - both of which are strong advocates for civil rights and equal treatment of the GLBT population - as well as a number of other GLBT rights organizations.
He jokingly makes a play on the "twice blessed" description, calling himself "twice taxed." He is solicited for fundraising from both the Jewish and GLBT communities.
The past 20 years have brought fundamental changes in the way GLBT Jews are accepted and welcomed into the Jewish community. Partly it is a result of greater visibility, a consequence of the AIDS/HIV epidemic of the 1990s, partly it is a result of the popularization of the GLBT plight by writers and artists such as Kushner, and partly it is a result of a growing politicization of issues ranging from equal rights to gay marriage. Both the Reform and Conservative movements have liberalized their policies on ordination, on civil marriage and on rabbinic officiation at marriages of same-sex couples. The Orthodox movement continues to hew to a strict prohibition of homosexuality.
The most recent communal advance is the publication of "Kulanu: All of Us, A Program and Resource Guide for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Inclusion" by the Union for Reform Judaism. The hefty tome is a comprehensive manual for congregational and communal outreach to GLBT Jews.
Rabbi Richard F. Address, director of the URJ's department on Jewish Family Concerns, along with psychiatrist Joel Kushner, director of the Institute for Judaism and Sexual Orientation at Hebrew Union College, and Rabbi Geoffrey Mitelman, then a rabbinical student at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, edited the book, the second edition of "Kulanu." The first appeared in 1996.
"This one represents the explosion of what has happened in this field in 10 years," Address says by telephone from his New York offices.
The book, he says, filled with first-person essays that draw on individual experience and articles that delineate specific strategies for promoting inclusion and creating more welcoming congregations, is evidence not only of the Reform movement's continued concern for the GLBT community, but also of the changes in the social landscape.
"We are moving in the direction of openness," says Address.
He declines to speculate on the size of the GLBT population, saying simply, "We know there is a community and a need and it is growing. The reality is GLBT."
Rabbi Alan Rabishaw of Temple Chai agrees.
He notes that the congregation has a number of openly gay congregants and also lends space to Aviv of Arizona, a congregation for gay and lesbian Jews, for monthly Friday night services.
He maintains that Temple Chai is open and inclusive to all.
"We like to believe that the congregation is open to anybody," he says.
Rabbi Steven Kahn of Congregation Beth Israel echoes Rabishaw's comments.
"My philosophy is that we are an inclusive community, and we do not need to define what that means," he says.
"Kulanu" advocates for specific mention of GLBT welcome in congregation promotional materials and policy statements.
Both Goldstein and Berger raised the issue of insensitive membership applications that ask for the name of a spouse but offer no place for the name of a domestic partner.
Rabbi Ayla Grafstein of Ruach Hamidbar, a Jewish Renewal congregation, has been in the forefront of proactive welcome. The congregation advertises that it is "GLBTQ-friendly" in print and on its Web site and has promoted an annual gathering for the Valley GLBT population. This year's event was a GLBT Sukkot party held in Grafstein's sukkah at her home.
"Our congregation has always promoted an open, loving and accepting atmosphere for everyone," she responds by e-mail. "(And) while it is true that many congregations are welcoming, they are not totally 'out' about it."
Kahn and others raise concerns about "siloing" communities, creating specific places for them within the larger whole rather than promoting an inclusive stance.
Berger, who is now comfortable in a large, diverse congregational setting, says, "As with any group, there is always this rub between ghetto-ization or assimilation."
He reiterates the value of smaller groups, such as Aviv, specifically for GLBT members.
"In the beginning stages, it is comforting to have the support and the cloistered nature of a subgroup," he says of his experience, "but as you progress and gain confidence, you want to be part of a larger group.
"People have to find a comfort zone for themselves," he says. But adds if everybody is in the closet, then nobody is educating anybody.
Address says the URJ's mission is reflective of the Jewish obligation to welcome all and to value each human being for his or her individual good.
"We want to include them, we want to take advantage of their humanity, their gifts," he says.
He notes that the GLBT community is just one of many communities the URJ sees as underserved and in need of special outreach effort. People with disabilities, single parents and interfaith families are just three of the subgroups he mentions that typify both pressing current needs and potential lost resources.
As Kahn, of CBI notes, "Gay and lesbian couples are adopting kids and raising them and are the future."
Annie Goldsand is reflective of that generation of openly GLBT individuals who are as intrinsically gay as they are Jewish. The 22-year-old recent ASU graduate identifies as a lesbian and also as a Jewish single woman who would one day like to find a partner and raise a family.
"It's my hope one day to be with somebody Jewish and raise Jewish children," she says. "It is a mitzvah."
And Goldsand, who grew up in the Valley and belongs to Temple Kol Ami with her family, articulates clearly why the community has a responsibility to reach out. She sees Judaism's mandate for justice and righteousness to be the underlying imperative - that, and a belief in the innate goodness of each individual.
