G-d.

“I consider the journey that takes a person from the answers that they think they have to the questions that they will have,” says Sandi Simcha Dubowski of his multi-award winning film, Trembling Before G-d. “That dash that you see is the mystery of the divine. It is the stories we all tell.”

Indeed, the stories that people tell about their spiritual paths can be a mystery. And contrary to popular belief, not all people on a spiritual path are interested in finding answers to that mystery. Some simply seek the right to ask questions. Some seek those answers in Judaism.

As Hanukkah begins, we decided to explore the topic of homosexuality and Judaism. What we found is intensely interesting. The right to challenge and question and the right to be included were at the very core of the Judaic code.

Mark Fish is a recent convert to Judaism.

“I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian home,” explains Fish. “You were not allowed to challenge the Bible. Asking questions was not encouraged. Answers were given to you as fact. And this was a major problem for me.”

Fish, who participated with a “Jews for Jesus” evangelical group, was introduced to Judaism through efforts in converting Jews to Christianity.

“The more I studied Judaism and the more I was encouraged to ask questions about myself, and my spiritual path, the more I began to understand that Judaism fit into that spiritual journey,” says Fish. “Theologically, the truth for me – where G-d brought me, was to a place where I need to ask questions but not be considered a heretic, to not accept answers as given and unexplainable, to challenge by using my head as well as my heart.”

Gregg Drinkwater is the co-director of Mosaic: the National Jewish Center for Sexual and Gender Diversity.

“Judaism is, at its core, an open source religion,” explains Drinkwater, whose organization is the only such resource in the United States geared toward full inclusion in the Jewish communal life regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. “Unlike Islam and Christianity, which is focused on doctrine and a commitment to a specific doctrine, in Judaism there is a tendency to a more open discussion. Judaism is a religion of discussion, reinterpretation, debate and renegotiation. Within the very nature of Judaism, Jews have this concept of intellectualism and a tradition of challenging the status quo.”

One of the questions Fish had was, “Is it OK to be on a spiritual path and be gay at the same time?”

Rabbi Alexis Roberts of Congregation Dor Hadash has trouble understanding why this is such an issue for those seeking a closer path with God.

“As far as I am concerned, homosexuality is a neutral and normal state of existence,” explains Roberts, who leads her congregation in studies on homosexuality and Judaism frequently. Everyone – regardless of their sexual orientation – is entitled to the same families, relationships and social standards. All privileges, opportunities and obligations should be extended.”

Roberts avers that nowhere in the scripture of the Bible does it address homosexuality in such a way that warrants the kind of passion that is associated with contemporary debates on same-sex relationships and homosexuality in general.

“Obviously, the text that most people turn to is Leviticus 18:22, where it describes two men lying next to one another as an ‘abomination.’ Clearly, this refers to the Canaanite behavior,” explains Roberts. “The word ‘abomination,’ though, is not a strong word in the Hebrew origin. In fact, it is one of the less strong categories. Eating certain foods such as pork or shrimp falls into the ‘abomination’ category.”

“Even the most Orthodox of Jews tends to be considered liberal by American standards on the issue of same-sex relationships,” argues Roberts, who just returned from her honeymoon with her husband. “Being gay is not choiceful. Even the conservative movement’s leading voices, such as ethicist Rabbi Elliot Dorff, agree with this. I think it is often used as an intimidation and is religion soaked heavily in homophobia because there are no spiritual grounds for this kind of hate. And most Jews understand this.”

Rabbi Rafael Goldstein, who happens to be gay, is a hospital chaplain at Banner Thunderbird Hospital in Phoenix. Goldstein recently moved to Phoenix from San Diego, where he served on multiple committees and task forces addressing Judaism and homosexuality. Goldstein agrees with Roberts.

“The vast majority of Jewish people are accepting of different reflections of G-d’s will and G-d’s presence,” explains Goldstein. “There is no one Jewish response. There is no unanimity on any topic. It is not like the Catholic Church because there is no Jewish equivalent of the Pope, per se. I am a reflection of G-d’s image just as everyone else is.”

“What I don’t understand,” suggests Roberts, “is why ‘same-sex relationships’ is such a lightening rod issue. The fundamentalist religious right is making this out to be a huge issue, with anti-gay marriage issues on state ballots. And we in our [Reconstructionist] movement say that the Bible is set in an historical setting and needs to be understood as such.”

After all, avers Roberts, the Torah espouses far more focus on the values of loving one’s neighbor than it spends on condemning homosexuality.

“This is not a question of ritual, such as accepting animal sacrifices, patriarchal polygamy, slavery, or the wholesale killing of entire enemy tribes – all of which are practices supported in the text,” says Roberts. “We are talking about an issue of whether a relationship is kosher. We have to stand up and explain that we have a finer sense of justice – that, supported by the Torah, we are more concerned about loving one’s neighbor as one’s self, and how we treat strangers, and the well-being of our fellow man.”

Mosaic’s Drinkwater is encouraged by teachers like Roberts who continue to fight for social justice for all members of the Jewish community. But there is one thing about Roberts that doesn’t surprise him.

“The Jewish community in the United States, and really the entire organized Jewish world, is strongly associated with social justice and human rights,” explains Drinkwater. “So much of what we do comes from the increasing involvement of women in the church. For 20 to 30 years, there has been a really strong influence of strong women, feminist movements, gender issues. So then, taking the next logical step, the community is talking about sexual orientation.”

For most Jews, being gay is, then, what it is. Roberts explains.

“Let’s even put the social science research to the side,” says Roberts. “Just based on the testimony of gay and lesbian people, how long they have resisted these feelings and how hard it is to come to terms that one is attracted to a member of the same sex – all of these things lead me to believe that this is not a choice-ful matter.”

And Fish, who is gay, says this is exactly the kind of thinking that drew him to Judaism.

“After attending some of the beginner course work in Judaism, and writing some weekly personal papers,” explains Fish, “I decided to come out to the rabbi. He was like, ‘And?’ I was waiting for all of the fire and brimstone stuff to happen to the temple. Instead, he just looked at me and said, ‘Do you have a partner? Are you dating?’ It was totally open arms. In fact, it was a non-issue really.”

Fish explains how getting past that issue has allowed him to focus more on his spiritual path.

“Worrying about reconciling being gay with searching for G-d was a hindrance to my spiritual journey,” avers Fish. “I felt like there was something wrong with me and that I cannot follow G-d and be gay at the same time. The open nature of Judaism took that concern off the table.”

Fish points to his own spiritual path in affirming this idea.

“I had to be able to question so many things,” explains Fish. “Being gay left me with a lot of questions that I wanted to ask. Judaism allowed me to be a part of a community, a fully-affirmed part of a community, and still ask those questions. I could ask those questions and get them out of the way so that I could continue down my spiritual path.”

In Dubowski’s film – and his life – he puts this struggle together.

“Judaism is thousands of years old,” explains Dubowski. “We have adapted to every society. We have survived mass murder, exile, and having our temples destroyed in Jerusalem.”

“Likewise, gay people have an enormous struggle,” says Dubowski. “Being gay and being Jewish is an exciting combination. You draw on two very complicated histories.”

Left, then, was Fish with the historical and personal charge to be who he is.

“The rabbi just looked at me and said, ‘Mark, you need to be who you are. That is what G-d would want.’ I was totally blown away,” explains Fish.

Being who you are is not always as easy as it seems, though, explains Lisa Anne Estrine, a male-to-female transsexual, and active member of JPride, a San Diego-based Jewish LGBT support group.

“At 13, I knew I was at the wrong ceremony,” explains Estrine, who went through the traditional Jewish bar mitzvah. “I knew I should have been going through the bas mitzvah, the girl’s equivalent of the bar mitzvah. Unbeknownst to my parents, I was actually wearing my mother’s lingerie underneath my clothes at my bar mitzvah.”

Estrine also suggests that she might return to her religious roots.

“I have considered returning to study the Bible and going through the right ceremony,” says Estrine. But for now, she is content to be prideful of her Jewish heritage from a cultural viewpoint, and leave the spiritual side for another time.

“I haven’t been in a synagogue for years,” explains Estrine. “I went to Synagogue every week until I was 13. Even though I have not been in a synagogue for years, I don’t feel any less Jewish.”

Knowing who you are means understanding where you come from. For Dubowski, what people need is that connection to active members of the Jewish faith, not just the Jewish culture.

“Outside of the orthodox church, people simply don’t always have access to wise teachers,” explains Dubowski, an orthodox Jew. “People need to be welcomed into those spiritual portals that are intense, vital, creative, and daring.”

Dr. David Shneer is the director of Judaic Studies at the University of Denver, and co-editor of the award-winning book, Queer Jews. Shneer disagrees with Dubowski about access to wise teaching, but he does affirm Dubowski’s notion of inclusion.

“I respectfully disagree with Sandi’s [Dubowski] notion that only orthodox Jews have access to wise teachings,” argues Shneer. “The underlying assumption is that those in the Renewal Movement or other movements do not have access to the text, to the Torah, and that is simply not true. But [Dubowski] is exactly right that there is a need to be involved in something intense and vital to our very existence.”

One of the aspects of Judaism that allows members to access intense and vital spiritual portals, as Dubowski puts it, is the idea of communal inclusion.

“By nature, Judaism is a communal religion,” says Shneer. “In fact, the very definition of worship in the Torah is when 10 or more male members are gathered. So then, by its very definition, Judaism focuses on groups, on community.”

“Judaism is about inclusion and community,” explains Shneer. “Regardless of the group – even the most orthodox Jews agree – the focus is on inclusion and not exclusion, on the group, and not the individual.”

Drinkwater continues Shneer’s thought.

“In Judaism, you cannot stand and worship alone on a mountain top. It would literally be violating the Torah to do so,” explains Drinkwater.

“The question really is, ‘But you’re Jewish, so how do we include you?’” explains Shneer. “It isn’t a matter of excommunicating someone on the spot for something that we might not initially understand or approve of. It is about finding a way to include that person in the community.”

Even when not deeply connected with the spiritual side of Judaism, there can be a very real focus on being a member of the Jewish community.

Estrine represents what Goldstein estimates to be nearly three quarters of the San Diego Jewish population: connected to their Jewish heritage through culture and nationality, but disconnected from the religious side of Judaism.

“People who are culturally Jewish don’t always care what the religion has to say,” explains Goldstein. “The vast majority of Jews in San Diego – and I mean a huge percentage, perhaps as much as 75 percent – are not affiliated with a synagogue. They are, however, as a group, deeply connected to the cultural and national perspective.”

Fish believes this communal history of social change has translated into a very real personal call to action.

“Judaism has taught me tolerance,” says Fish. “Even if I weren’t gay and didn’t understand that whole issue, the Jewish religion teaches tolerance. Whereas in my family, I was told I was twice screwed – once for being gay and again for converting to Judaism, the truth is, I feel just the opposite. And I cannot sit still while others suffer.”

Goldstein understands Fish’s feelings.

“To borrow [authors Christie] Balka and [Andy] Rose’s term,” says Goldstein, “I feel twice blessed.”

Like Goldstein and Roberts, if only a bit more public, Dubowski has answered that call to action as his life’s work.

“I have spent a third of my life working in the area of being gay and Jewish,” says Dubowski. “We have made this movie into a movement. I was not only born Jewish, I was raised Jewish, and I am actively Jewish in the fresh, contemporary meaning of what that is.”

For Dubowski, it is that dash, that simple stroke of the pen.

“It can mean nothing, it can mean everything. It can be the history, the culture. It can be an emotional relationship with G-d. It can be an intellectual inquiry or a relationship to storytelling.”

For Fish, and many others, Judaism is the questions to all the answers he thought he had – and a community that understands why he has such questions.