As Jewish queers we inherently live at the intersections of multiple identities, seeking belonging in both Jewish and queer communities. In the Diaspora this has always been challenging due to the queer community’s justice-oriented approach and criticism of Israel’s treatment of Palestinians. For decades I have witnessed a cyclical debate between Jews and anti-Zionists in the queer community in North America that tends to go something like this: antizionist queers protest symbols related to Israel as such as Jewish pride flags in their marches, queer organizations release statements on supporting Palestinian liberation and boycotting Israel, and Jewish queers and Jewish organizations respond with defensiveness calling out anti-Semitism and asserting Jewish acceptance and support for the LGBTQ community. Year after year I have watched this pattern result in much time, attention and resources being spent on debating this topic, with little attention or difference being made to support Palestinian liberation or addressing antisemitism, and many queer Jews end up exiting the queer community and pride celebrations.
I have found that the way we communicate with each other in the queer community around issues related to Israel is often from a place of pain, fear, grief and trauma. In my experience, all of us, including both queer Jews and non-Jews, Zionists and anti-Zionists alike, tend to focus on trying to educate the other on our perspectives with the hope of being heard, understood, validated and accepted. I believe what we need more of is attention to our role as listeners, being curious about others’ perspectives, understanding where the person in front of us is coming from, and accepting others’ perspectives without trying to change them. This, I believe, is the pathway to wholeness within ourselves, our queer and Jewish communities and with all of humanity in our diverse views.
I often reflect on the relationship between the blue herons and the eagles in Stanley Park close to where I live in Vancouver. Every once in a while, an eagle swoops down into the nest of baby herons, stealing one of them to bring back to their eaglets for food. Listening to the screaming of the herons as they fly after the eagle with their young in its talons, I ask myself, what is justice? What I have come to realize, despite the feeling within me while witnessing the distress of the herons, is that what is unjust and traumatic for the herons, is just and nourishing for the eagles. It is all a matter of perspective.
As Jewish queers who value both wrestling with the Divine and the fluidity of sexuality and gender, I believe we are aptly equipped to inspire our communities to value diverse perspectives, and to move beyond binaries and polarizing narratives. We have the potential to help our communities navigate these tensions, which have long existed in queer communities, however, we must be emotionally regulated in order to do so. Helping our communities to heal from the repeated cycle of blame and defensiveness requires us to be on our own individual and collective healing journeys.
Initiatives like Jewish Third Space, a global retreat-based movement designed for Jewish seekers yearning for belonging and connection outside mainstream religion, can provide a place for us to do our healing work together as a collective within the safety of our Jewish community. This initiative was born out of Israel’s Voice of the People Council, which identified polarization and identity among the most pressing issues Jewish people are facing today.
For more information about our pilot retreat coming up in 2026 in Vancouver, Canada, reach out through our website www.jewishthirdspace.net. Happy Pride kulanu!