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Inclusion LGBT

Jewish Blessings and Reflections for Pride Month

As we enter into Pride Month, the CCAR reaffirms our commitment to and celebration of our LGBTQ Reform rabbis, their families, and the members of our Jewish and secular queer communities in America, Canada, Israel, and globally. The CCAR continues our advocacy for the equal rights, full inclusion, and safety of the LGBTQ community. And we continue our commitment to inclusive liturgy so that everyone feels welcome in our houses of worship and sees themselves reflected in the image of God.

Here, we share a blessing by CCAR Board Member Rabbi Daniel Mikelberg, as well as a prayer by Rabbi Denise Eger, from her groundbreaking book, Mishkan Ga’avah Where Pride Dwells: A Celebration of LGBTQ Jewish Life and Ritual (CCAR Press 2020), and “We Have Always Been” by Rabbi Dave Yedid, a powerful reflection on queer Jewish identity, resilience, and the sacred act of claiming space within tradition and community.

What Does the New Month Hold?, by Rabbi Daniel Mikelberg

On the eve of Rosh Chodesh, we often look to 1 Samuel 20:18-42 and the story of the friendship shared between David and Jonathan. With Pride month upon us, we feel anxious and unsettled, unsure of what days ahead will bring. We can seek inspiration from this beautiful bond, a chosen family, companions who pledge to serve one another in dangerous days. 

Jonathan said to him, “Tomorrow will be the new moon…” (1 Samuel 20:18)

We tell ourselves these words each day like a mantra, weighted down by trauma, we try our best to look forward not back.

But do we believe the call, might tomorrow be different, a respite from the pain?

For we feel helpless, unable to chart a renewed path.

David and Jonathan remind us, that is not the case, darkness need not overwhelm.

As for the promise we made to each other, may the Eternal be [witness] between you and me together. (1 Samuel 20:23)

Allied as one: trusting, creative, and strong, we are bound by a brit of love, the spirit of the Divine accompanies our travels.

We pledge to open our hearts, to explore a new Promised Land, built on the trust between neighbors and friends. The light that we all carry within shines bright and beams as one. 

Go in peace! For we have sworn to each other in the name of the Eternal…” (1 Samuel 20:41)

Yes, tomorrow will be the new moon, and we are ready to embrace this new day.

—Rabbi Mikelberg serves Temple Israel of Ottawa in Ottawa, Canada. He shared his journey to the Reform rabbinate and the privilege he feels championing inclusion in the synagogue and community at large.

A Prayer for LGBTQ People, by Rabbi Denise Eger

Holy One who made us all, tonight we celebrate the LGBTQ com-munity. Quench our thirst for acceptance of self. Help us to feel Your Divine Presence when others question the righteousness of our lives. Let us come to know that all things are possible in our lives: love and hope, caring and friendship and family. May those of us who are deep within the closet find courage and comfort through You. Bless our community and its leaders. Grant us, O God, health and prosperity. Keep us strong as we pursue justice and civil rights. Ease the pain of those who are ill, and inspire each of us to perform acts of loving-kindness and tzedakah each and every day. Fountain of life, we praise You and thank You for creating us in Your image.

וְנֹאמַר: אָמֵן.
V’nomar: amein.
And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Denise Eger is an activist, speaker, author of Mishkan Ga’avah Where Pride Dwells, and former CCAR President. She has made extraordinary contributions to the Reform rabbinate and the Jewish and secular LGBTQ community.

We Have Always Been

I look back into history,
pouring over our texts, sacred and profane,
searching
for some kind of opening
where I can see myself, where I can see us.

I search
and find
rejection from our communities and leaders,
our existence hidden, shamed, criminalized, excommunicated,
jailed, killed.

I keep searching
and catch a glimpse
of our vitality, our desire, our love, our bliss, our rebellion,
our chosen family.

In these glimpses I see a sliver of light
pouring out of the opening.
I sprint toward it—our past, our present, our future—
and, with all my might, break the door off its hinges.

I pant, breathless, on the other side.
I want to scream, but instead, I whisper: “We are here. We are here.”

We have always been.

—Rabbi Dave Yedid is a contributor to Mishkan Ga’avah Where Pride Dwells and serves Base Denver.

Categories
inclusivity LGBT Rabbinic Reflections

Y’all Means All: Being Queer in Texas: Rabbi Annie Villarreal-Belford’s Pride Month Reflection

In honor of Pride Month, the critical contribution of our LGBTQIA+ rabbinic and Jewish community, and the 35th anniversary of the CCAR Report on Homosexuality in the Rabbinate, the CCAR is honored to share the stories of the experiences of LGBTQIA+ Reform rabbis.

In the next room, I can hear my wife Joy, who works for Keshet as the Southwest Education and Training Manager, planning Pride events from the small Texas towns of Round Rock to Richardson, and the larger towns of San Antonio and Houston. Outside, we have a rainbow flag that says “Y’all Means All,” a counterpoint to my neighbors’ signs that say things like “Pray for America” and “Pray for Trump.” Marjory, my next door neighbor, waves to me, and we chat as we grab our mail. My kids bound into the house with backpacks and paper flying, having emptied their lockers for the end of school. It is June, the month of Pride, and we live in the decidedly unwelcoming state of Texas.

I say it is decidedly unwelcome, and in many ways that is an understatement. This legislative session, a record number of anti-LGBTQ+ bills were introduced, and two bills targeting transgender Texans are making their way through the legislature.[1] In our last legislative session, dozens of anti-LGBTQIA+ bills were pursued and many were passed—including bans on puberty blockers and hormone therapy for children.[2] When these bans passed, a friend whose daughter is transgender moved out of state to ensure ongoing and appropriate medical care. I know another person who makes a monthly drive to a more open state with her trans daughter, where they lie to the doctor and say they are residents to ensure ongoing hormonal treatment. These choices—the regular pain inflicted on members of Texas’s queer and trans community—are heartbreaking and unjust. In truth, if I think too much about these forced choices, I am overwhelmed with pain, sadness, and an ongoing feeling of disbelief that these kinds of actions are not only the law of my home state but are spreading to more states. How can we sanction hate this way?

And yet… and yet. Cameron Samuels, a young person from the congregation I served in west Houston, has started an organization called SEAT, which advocates for students to have a seat at the table in educational policymaking. Their motto is “Nothing about us, without us.” The origins of SEAT lie in the choice of Katy Independent School District (ISD) to remove books about queer folks from their school libraries and to block access to life-saving websites like It Gets Better and The Trevor Project. Cameron started speaking out at Katy School Board meetings against this policy and began collecting and delivering queer-themed books to classmates who desperately needed them. Cameron and other young people all over the state are doing incredible and life-changing work like this.

In the last month, both Katy ISD and the nearby Fort Bend ISD both had major shifts on their school boards, ousting anti-LGBTQ+ and pro-book-banning members in favor of more moderate and open candidates who have affirmed their desire to create safe, inclusive schools in their districts.[3] The Houston suburb of Deer Park—where my wife grew up­—just hired a new superintendent who happens to be a lesbian. She faced a local pastor’s anti-gay smear campaign, and was hired anyway.[4] (In fact, Houston was the first major city in the entire country to be led by a mayor who is lesbian—Anisse Parker![5])

My wife has a collection of Pride tee shirts, and whenever she wears the one that says “Protect Trans Kids,” she is approached by people who say, “I love your shirt.” It surprises me every time.

Indeed, Pride will be celebrated all over Texas—not only in the perennially weird Austin and other major cities like Houston and Dallas, but in small suburbs and rural towns like Denton (where my eldest attends college), Round Rock, Marble Falls, and Rowlett.[6] There may be only one rainbow flag waving on our street, but during Pride rainbow flags will wave throughout Texas—sometimes even at city halls.

In other words, there is reason to hope and believe that being queer and trans in Texas will become easier.

I was born in Texas, but to tell you the truth, I left Texas at eighteen and never wanted to return. I did not apply to a single in-state college. But we all know the saying—humans plan, God laughs. When the 2008 recession hit, I had two children younger than two and needed a new job, so I looked at places closer to home where it would be easier for family to offer their support. At the time, I was married to a man (whom I affectionately call my “wasband”), and we found a lovely community in the suburbs of Houston that was a phenomenal fit. So we returned to Texas, much to my ongoing chagrin. Despite this, my family is deeply happy here. My kids—one in a Texas state university, one in high school, and one in middle school—are thriving. My in-laws live nearby, and my wife has deep roots in Houston’s queer community. My father moved to Houston to be closer to us. Our lives are not perfect, but they are good. I recognize that we are privileged and do not face the hardship my friends with trans kids face, or that my best friend who is trans faces whenever she visits family in Texas. But despite my constant chafing against, despair about, and anger toward the Texas legislature, Texas has again become home.

I think all the time about permanently putting Texas in my rearview mirror, but part of me suspects I am here for good. And that means I will work to make life good for all people who live in Texas—especially my queer and trans friends, neighbors, and community members. From this Texan’s heart to yours, Happy Pride! And remember—Y’all means ALL!

_____

Rabbi Annie Villarreal-Belford’s rabbinic journey has taken her from Pennsylvania to India, Virginia, and Missouri, before she made her home in Houston, Texas. She served as the rabbi of Temple Sinai in West Houston for thirteen years and was proud to be the first full-time solo female rabbi in the city. Today, she serves as the editor at CCAR Press. Rabbi Annie holds a BA in Creative Writing, rabbinic ordination from Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion (NY, 2004), and a doctorate in psychology with an emphasis on Victor Frankl’s logotherapy. When she’s not immersed in text or community, she can be found art journaling, reading, or exploring national and state parks. She treasures time with her wife and their three wonderful children.


[1] Equality Texas notes record number of anti-LGBTQ bills introduced in 2025 Legislature – Dallas Voice

[2] Texas bills affecting LGBTQ people: Here’s what you need to know | The Texas Tribune

[3] Katy ISD community wants book bans, transgender policies repealed; Fort Bend ISD trustee election won by candidates who opposed controversial book and gender policies – Houston Public Media

[4] Tiffany Regan named new superintendent in Deer Park ISD

[5] Annise Parker

[6] Texas town still celebrating Pride ‘against the odds’ after losing city support – lonestarlive.com