7 LGBTQ Ancestors To Invite to Your Sukkah
On Sukkot, it is traditional to invite honoured ancestors (โushpizin/ushpizataโ) to join your festive meals in the sukkah. As some of you know, I am currently compiling an anthology of primary sources for LGBTQ Jewish history for publication (more info on that coming soon โ stay tuned!) and my friend gave me the brilliant idea to pick some LGBTQ ancestors to invite as ushpizin/ushpizata this year. There are so so many wonderful stories to honour, but if I had to pick seven โ here are the ancestors that my boyfriend andย I are inviting in this year. Feel free to share, or add your own!
1. Rabbi Abbahu of Caesarea, a Palestinian amora [rabbinic scholar] ca. 300 CE. Rabbi Abbahu taught his students a midrash from his colleagues that Mordekhai nursed Esther himself; when his students heard him talking about a man nursing, they burst out laughing at him. What I would say to him: โThank you for reminding us to amplify marginalized voices, even when they are ridiculed or dismissed. And thank you for your courage in imagining a diversity of bodies and gender expressions for our Biblical ancestors โ that makes it possible to continue broadening our vision of Jewishness today. Welcome, Rabbi Abbahu of Caesarea, to our sukkah.โ
2. Ishaq Ibn Mar Sha'ul of Lucena, a Spanish poet and grammarian, ca. 975-1050. He was the first medieval Hebrew writer to compose homoerotic poetry, a genre which blossomed into such richness in the following centuries, comparing his beloved to figures like Joseph and David. What I would say to him: โThank you for bringing such beauty to the expression of love, in words which resonate across the centuries. It doesnโt matter whether your poems reflect your experience or not โ what matters is that you brought them into the world, and in so doing gave a language for others to speak their feelings. Welcome, Ishaq Ibn Mar Sha'ul, to our sukkah.โ
3. Issach Mardofay [Isaac Mordekhai], a Catalan rabbi who was burnt at the stake for โsodomyโ in Barcelona in 1365. What I would say to him: โYour death was a tragedy, a crime, and an unhealed wound in our historical memory. But you have not been forgotten โ I draw my strength from you. Welcome, Issach Mardofay, to our sukkah.โ
4. Sarmad Kashani, a Persian Jewish poet, ca. 1590-1660, whose love for a Hindu youth inspired him to devote his life to the pursuit of spiritual unity, reciting mystical poetry and teaching across the Indo-Pakistani subcontinent, and who was executed by the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb for heresy. What I would say to him: โYour life and work are an inspiration to all of us whose sexuality and gender do not push us farther away from our spiritual lives but rather draw us in. Thank you for refusing to live any other way but as your truest self. Welcome, Sarmad Kashani, to our sukkah.โ
5. Berel-Beyle, a young man from a small Ukrainian shtetl who was assigned female at birth, but always knew himself as a man. Born around 1870, he left his home for Odessa at the age of 23, where โa famous professorโ helped him become the man he knew himself to be. When he returned to his shtetl, he was welcomed with open arms; he married his childhood sweetheart Rachel, joined the minyan, and was known by all as an upstanding Jew. What I would say to him: โThank you for your courage to make your way in a world which barely had the words to acknowledge what you were. And thank you for returning home, allowing them to demonstrate that open-mindedness and communal hospitality to LGBTQ folks are part of our ancestral heritage too. Welcome, Berel-Beyle, to our sukkah.โ
6. โAgnes W.,โ the pseudonym for a Jewish lesbian who was interviewed by Magnus Hirschfeld in Berlin around 1910, at the age of 18. A music student, she admitted that she had struggled with social rejection and suicidal thoughts in the past, but declared that now โI consider myself innocent, totally healthy, and naturalโฆ I am satisfied with my natural sexual tendency and do not think any change is worthwhile or in my case even possible.โ What I would say to her: โYour strength of conviction in yourself was right โ your love is innocent, healthy, and natural. We welcome and celebrate you for everything you are, and you have no need to hide anything anymore. Welcome, Agnes, to our sukkah.โ
7. Leo Skir (1932-2014), a gay Jewish activist, poet, and writer from New York, who was friends with beat poets like Allen Ginsberg and other activists like Frank Kameny. Skir published articles, theatre reviews, and even a novel, but after the 1970s was ignored and forgotten. He died in Minneapolis (where he had lived for decades), alone and unknown, the year before I moved here. What I would say to him: โWe have forgotten our responsibilities to honour and respect our LGBTQ elders, even as we benefit from your legacy. We commit ourselves this year to doing better. If you are willing to forgive us, we would be honoured by your presence. Welcome, Leo Skir, to our sukkah.โ
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