If I Didn't See It ...

I had an amazing experience last week. I would say it was a miracle, but I don't believe in those. A friend of mine, whom I know from New York and moved here a year after me, lost his husband to cancer. The funeral was in Jerusalem on Har Menuchot. I was not sure what to expect. I know the חֶבְרָה קַדִישָא, burial society, is very strict there. I learned this firsthand when they told us my sister would not be allowed to approach the grave while my father was being buried.

Anyway, here we have a gay man whose husband died. Both lead/led an observant life as best they could, as a lot of us try to . The decedent would go to synagogue every day at daybreak and was very charitable but would that matter at all to the ultra-orthodox burial society? Would they allow my friend to publicly pay his respects to his spouse? Would they let their friends, many who are part of the LBGT community in Jerusalem, eulogize the decedent?

There were about 75 people there which I thought was very good, but the amazing thing was the diversity of the crowd. You had people in shorts and suits. There were gay and straight people but most surprisingly was that you had totally secular people and ultra orthodox people.

Funerals are sad and this one was no exception. Everyone knew that the deceased was very ill with no chance of recovery. That knowledge doesn't really make it any better but I must say that I left this funeral feeling hope that perhaps we can all work out our differences someday.

So, here are some of the amazing things that happened.

The burial society let me friend stay with his husband's body. They all understood the connection but did not give him a hard time.

They let him speak. It was a very moving eulogy as you would expect someone to give their spouse.

Then a Haredi rabbi got up to give a eulogy. He spoke about the dedication that the decedent had for those less fortunate and his very charitable nature.

Then a second Haredi rabbi got up and spoke about the decedents religious dedication. Getting up very early every day for prayers, coming to pray and not talk ( my kind of guy) and his love of learning Torah.

He was clearly moved by the loss.

Next came a woman who spoke and gave a small d'var Torah ( Torah lesson).

At this point I could not listen to what she was saying. I was looking at the rabbis to see their reaction. Women learning Torah is basically forbidden in Haredi society, For them to teach it is reallyyyyyyyyyy bad.

Their reaction was that they listened attentively and respectfully.

Another woman got up.

The rabbis had the same reaction

A third woman got up and ended by getting everyone to sing a psalm.

That would be it, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Men are not allowed to hear woman sing and now at least 30 were. I was waiting for the rabbis to bolt out of there.

They didn't.

They joined in singing the psalm

I am not an overly emotional person and rarely cry. I didn't in this case either, but I was damn close. Never in my life would I believe that I would live to see what I saw. It was what I would imagine a perfect ahcdut ( unity) of the Jewish people would be. All differences were set aside. People were there to mourn and remember and everyone acted with the respect my friends husband deserved.

I know some of you might think these rabbis must not be so Haredi. The first one is Lubavitch , so you would expect him to have some tolerance but this was very different. Also Chabad rabbis in Israel are not like the ones in the USA when it comes to tolerance.

The other rabbi is a well-known leader of a Haredi synagogue in Jerusalem.

Perhaps he did it for the money.

He did mention the support he got from my friend and his husband but that didn't make sense because I don't think my friend would have been insulted if the rabbi left when the women were singing. Certainly, it would have made no difference if the rabbi didn't sing along.

This was something different. This was a religious leader that for a small moment in time put his beliefs on hold to comfort one congregant and pay his final respects to another. He put people first.

But that was not all.

At the grave-site, my friend was inconsolable. For those of you who don't know, Israeli funerals are rough.

There is no coffin.

The rabbi went to him and held his hand for the rest of the service. After that he helped my friend cut his shirt, which is the traditional sign of mourning reserved for family.

That blew my mind. It was a tacit recognition that this was his family.

Some of you will think, 'what is the big deal?'

The big deal was after living here for 2.5 years and seeing all the hatred (yes hatred) between certain segments of society, I saw someone reach out and change my opinion on how things are and could be. I know it is only one Haredi rabbi and maybe he is the exception that proves the rule, but it was moving to see none the less.

Knowing there is even one guy like this in Jerusalem gives me hope. Something that slips away daily.

Afterwards of few people got together with my friend. He was flying back that night, to the USA, to be with his husband's mother who is over 100 years old.

I told him what I had seen and experienced. He said he hadn't noticed at all.

I asked him who the rabbi was, and he told me and that it was the rabbi of his synagogue. I asked him why he would go to such a shul knowing that there was a good chance he would not be accepted.

He said this was the type of prayer and atmosphere he was looking for and he never worries about being accepted. When he first went to this shul he met with the rabbi. He said,' rabbi I hope we can have a relationship where you are always truthful with me, and I would like to always be truthful with you' He then told him that he and his husband where in a relationship.

My friend did not tell me the rabbi's initial reaction.

Maybe there wasn't any, but it was clear my friend had chosen well.

Personally, I never cared about gay marriage. I always believed that if people want to call their relationship a marriage, then let them. I am not sure why they would want to pay the extra taxes but that is also not my business.

I have also told my kids that I cannot judge someone for what they do or don't do religiously. G-d knows I am not perfect (as does everyone who knows me). We each have our challenges. I have also told them that I could never tell a person that they could not feel the loving touch of another human for their whole life.

That is a burden no one should know.

Something I do know is that if more people acted with the respect and understanding of this rabbi, the world would be an infinitely better place.