PARASHAT NOACH
SHABBAT UNPLUGGED
October 8, 2010 / 1 Cheshvan 5771
“The Wicked and the Righteous”
I don’t know about you. But for me, there are moments where things that at least seem to be unconnected happen together, in succession, in just such a way, that it can’t have been mere coincidence. It must have been meant to be.
In the week immediately following the suicide of Rutgers student Tyler Clementi, I found myself particularly moved by the most recent episode of the hit show Glee. The usually irreverent and silly comedy veered into uncharted waters, tackling the difficult and emotionally-charged topic of faith. For Curt, the openly-gay young man whose father lay in a coma following a heart attack, the answer was obvious. After Mercedes’ attempt to awaken a faith within him she hoped and merely been lying dormant, Curt says to her, “Thank you, Mercedes, your voice is stunning. But I don’t believe in God.” He goes on, “I think God is kinda like Santa Claus for adults. Otherwise, God’s kind of a jerk, isn’t he? I mean, he makes me gay and then has his followers going around telling me it’s something I chose, as if someone would choose to be mocked every single day of their life. And right now I don’t want a heavenly father; I want my real one back.”
And, though I had thought about it before—how absurd it is to claim that homosexuality is a choice, a lifestyle, to be picked from a drop-down menu of personal adjectives on Facebook like our religious or political affiliations—this really hit me hard. This was the everyday life of Tyler Clementi—the taunting, the teasing, the threats of violence in this world and eternal damnation in the next; the mean-spirited pranks of those with insecurities and webcams. And this last one was the straw that simply broke whatever was left of his will to live.
I am crushed, I am devastated. And I am angry. I feel perhaps an inkling of what God felt when looking at the world in this week’s Torah portion. We read, “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with violence, and when God saw how corrupt the earth was, how every being was acting in a corrupt way, God said to Noah, “The end of all flesh has come before Me…and I am going to wipe them off the earth…I am going to bring the floodwaters upon the earth to destroy all that lives under the heavens, all that has the breath of life in it. Everything on earth shall expire. With you, though, I will establish my Covenant.”
I want, like God, to wipe out the wickedness, the terror, the cruelty that infects and invades like a virus, tearing down anything and everything in its midst. I want all of it gone, eradicated from the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again. I want to confront every perpetrator of hate crimes face-to-face—the Laramie who tied Matthew Sheppard to a tree and clubbed him to death; the fiends in Brooklyn who beat a young Ecuadorian man to death because they thought he was gay.
But in the end, that’s not how we beat this. That’s not how we, to use a biblical phrase, sweep out evil from the world. No. The way to fight the hate, the wickedness, the cruelty, is through openness, acceptance, support, and love. And that point was driven home this week in an open letter written by Andy Bachman, rabbi at Beth Elohim in Brooklyn and a man for whom I have the utmost of admiration and respect. And because there is no way I could have said it better myself, allow me to read some of it here with you tonight.
In a letter addressed “to the young people in our community,” he wrote:
“I want to address you directly, whoever you may be. If you’re gay or straight or bi or transgender of you just don’t know, as a rabbi in the community, I care about you as a person made in the image of God. It really truly doesn’t matter what other people think about your struggle to be who you are in the process of becoming.
“At our synagogue, in our community, and hopefully in each and every one of our homes, what matters is that you are welcome to be who you are. And during a confusing time like this, when a young person takes his own life because the pain and suffering of having been humiliated is beyond what he can bear, you need to know that no matter how badly you may feel about things going on in your own life, you always have someone to talk to, a community that will accept you, support you, and love you for who you are.
“Tyler Clementi took his own life in part because we still live in an imperfect world that judges people and attempts to hurt people, even kill people, for being lesbian, gay, bi or transgender. That’s sick, I know. It’s morally grotesque that we live in such a world that would harm people because of who they would love. But you know what? There are actually more people in the world who support your right to be who you are than not. It may not seem that way, sometimes. You may feel an incredible loneliness or confusion or anger at being different. But in our synagogue and in our community and in our schools, we accept you and want you to always feel welcome and protected and honored and respected and loved.
“I’m straight. But did you know that the man who told me to go be a rabbi was gay? And did you know that during my first year in rabbinical school my Israeli roommate was gay? I have a gay step-brother. And lots of gay and lesbian and bi and transgender friends. We all do. Some came out easily; others struggled for years; still other are still in the closet. That’s because we live in a society that still doesn’t accept sexual diversity so easily. Yet, one day maybe, we’ll be able to say, “Who cares? It doesn’t matter!” But because prejudice and bigotry about sexuality still exist, the point of that is to say that when a young man takes his life in the way that Tyler Clementi did, we are all affected. We are all connected, whether we attempt to deny it or not. And as the Jewish tradition teaches, we are all responsible for one another. Which means that if you’re reading this and you’re sad or angry or confused or devastated or scared and you need someone to talk to, be in touch. And always remember that you have a rabbi and a community who care about you and accept you for who you are, no matter what.
In friendship, Rabbi Andy Bachman”
Rabbi Bachman’s words ring true for me as your rabbi, as your friend. Whoever you are, whatever you are, you have a place here, and it is and always will be a safe one.
In our portion we are told that "et ha-Elohim hithalech Noach", that Noah walked with God. My friends, we walk with God when we walk with each other, hand-in-hand, connected as we know all of our destinies are. We walk with God when we remember, and live our lives by the most basic of Jewish teachings, that "every single one of us" is created "b’tzelem Elohim", in the image of God.
AMEN.