For more than 25 years, the Tel Aviv Pride Parade has brought together people from all over the world in a demonstration of tolerance and shared humanity unique in the Middle East. Last year, more than 200,000 people participated; since 2019, Tel Aviv Pride has been the largest in Asia
Because of the war, and the almost singular focus of Israeli citizens on bringing the hostages home, the organizers of Tel Aviv Pride decided to cancel this year’s parade–but they did not cancel Pride. In a beautiful fashion, Tel Aviv found a way to demonstrate its ongoing commitment to LGBTQ+ inclusion even in this painful time. Last night the city held a “Pride and Hope Assembly” with a focus on remembering those murdered on October 7, as well as all those who have fallen since. It also included an opportunity to offer prayers for those still held in captivity in Gaza. A special flag was created for this moment that expands the yellow band of the rainbow in honor of the hostages. (We have made our own version of this same flag which I plan to carry as part of the Jewish contingent of the LA Pride Parade with Rabbi Sari this Sunday.)
One of the most meaningful and heart wrenching moments at Pride in Israel this year so far took place at the Jerusalem event held last Thursday. Among the speakers was Omer Ohana, the bereaved fiancé of slain soldier Maj. Sagi Golan who was killed fighting Hamas terrorists on October 7. At first, the law did not initially recognize Ohana as a bereaved family member after Golan’s death; his advocacy and efforts led Defense Minister Yoav Gallant to amend the IDF policy to include same-sex couples. What a beautiful example of how we can make progress towards inclusion, even in our most difficult moments. It’s a story that should be told to demonstrate just how much Israel, alone in the Middle East, embodies the values that college students on campuses across this country who purport to care about justice should embrace.
At a time when Israel is being vilified and demonized in the most insidious and antisemitic fashion, we should be especially proud of the ways in which it is truly a beacon of tolerance and inclusion not just in the Middle East but throughout the world. In a time of identity politics and zero-sum thinking about empathy, we should be proud of how the organizers of the Tel Aviv assembly sought to connect efforts around inclusion with concern for the hostages. And in a time when some voices in the LGBTQ+ community wish to exclude Jewish participation in misguided attempts to demonize Israel, we should refuse to cede these spaces or give up values we cherish in the face of such bigotry and hatred.
I think especially about Sagi Golan’s sacrifice when I read one of the opening lines of this week’s Torah portion where Moses is commanded to count the number of Israelites eligible for army service:
שְׂאוּ אֶת־רֹאשׁ כׇּל־עֲדַת בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל…׃
“Take a census of the whole Israelite community…” (Numbers 1:2)
The Hebrew idiom for taking a census is instructive. It literally tells us to “lift up the head of every Israelite.” It reminds us that every person counts.
I’m proud to be part of a tradition that has endeavored to find ways to live this value as our understanding of gender and sexuality has changed over time. Across the denominational diversity of the Jewish people, Rabbis and leaders have consistently and overwhelmingly embraced inclusion over exclusion and tolerance over intolerance. And at this difficult moment, as I reflect on how our sisters and brothers in Israel are balancing their desire to celebrate Pride with the sorrow they feel about loved ones lost and missing, I’m prouder still.
Shabbat shalom and Am Yisrael Chai,
Rabbi Yoshi