Keshet community! I’m excited to share some Torah with you and I also want to give a content warning that I’m going to mention something that happened at a workshop that might sound jarring. I want to let you know up front I’ve been incredibly supported by staff at Keshet, the organization where the events took place, and I am okay! And if you know me you know I won’t leave us in a difficult place. With that being said….

I’ve thought a lot about the language of sacrifice the last few weeks and the helpful and harmful ways it can be used to prioritize or deprioritize what we need, especially as LGBTQ+ people and advocates. 

At a recent workshop after talking about trans identities and after some invasive comments about my identity in particular, a student said “alright that’s it. I’m going to get my glock.” and headed towards backpacks behind a partition. A few seconds later two other students jumped in saying “that was a bit much” and “you shouldn’t joke about gun violence” and the first student said he didn’t actually have a gun. Still as you can imagine it was a bit rattling. 

The word “sacrifice” itself has been rolling around in my head. 

When we hear the word sacrifice it’s common to think of it as something we are giving up. In justice work perhaps it comes with a greater good. I do think there is a place for those of us with privileged identities to be willing to leverage that power and be willing to lose that privilege for an equitable society. 

But outside of that context, I want to talk about an additional framing.

Instead of asking, “What am I willing to give up?” I want us to ask ourselves, “What do I want to move towards?” 

In this week’s Torah portion, parashat Tzav, the Israelites continue receiving instruction from God about sacrifices and offerings to be made at the Mishkan. Sacrifices weren’t made for Israelites to lose something. They saw it as a way to show their commitment to God and their communities. One of the words that gets used as offering is קׇרְבַּן (karbahn) and the root kuf, reish, bet means “to draw near” and “to come close.” This is different from the English word sacrifice that comes from the combination of latin words sacer meaning “sacred” or “holy” and facere meaning “to make” or “to do.” 

What these words say to me is that it’s not about what we give up, but what we can do to come closer to holiness. The two questions “What am I willing to give up?” and “What do I want to move towards?” might be working for the same outcome, but I think with one we focus on loss and the other we open a door to opportunity and abundance. Through our sacred actions we draw nearer the world of our dreams. 

Fighting for LGBTQ+ rights is getting increasingly scary in the United States. The rhetoric that is coming from this administration, the gravity of anti-trans legislation that’s being enforced, the censorship we’re witnessing— it’s all making advocacy work more challenging than it ever should be. It’s also why it is more necessary than it ever was.

For those of us in this work who are LGBTQ+ or are strong allies, we believe so much in getting closer to a world where all people can live and love fully as they are regardless of their identity. We put our comfort and sometimes even our safety on the line to fight for a world where all people can thrive. I know it’s because we can’t imagine it any other way. 

I want to shout out those of us who are trans and nonbinary doing this work. Before we even get to The Work, by being ourselves everyday we are drawing liberation nearer because life without authenticity just wasn’t cutting it. Because in a world that wishes to eradicate us to name our truth is to perform miracles. Because when our safety is on the line to claim our existence is powerfully sacred. Because living loudly is about creating a future we want to live. 

When I think about working for Trans and LGB+ liberation I’m not thinking about what I am giving up, though certainly there are some things and some people I’ve had to leave behind. I’m thinking about what I want to get closer to, and what I want to get closer to is a world where trans people are fiercely celebrated and protected. Where we are seen and valued every day of the year and not just when Trans Day of Visibility comes up.

Towards the beginning of parashat Tzav it says אֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד עַל־הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לֹא תִכְבֶּה , “A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar, not to go out.”

In tikkunim, a text of Kabbalah, it says, “An everlasting fire shall be kept burning on the altar, it should not be extinguished…To light the eternal flame.This is surely the light of the divine, the light that shines within the soul of every person.” 

That sacred fire within us and the burn for a more just world, can never be extinguished. No matter how hard some might try. 

I’m not upset at the student who made the comment I mentioned earlier. I’m upset we live in a country that emboldens flippant hatred. The kind that says pretending to reach for a weapon is an okay response to something you don’t understand. The kind that makes me feel like I’m putting my life on the line while trying to create spaces of belonging. I’m mad that violence has become an answer for so many people. 

According to the Torah it was a lot of work to keep the fire at the altar burning! There was much kindling, cleaning, and watching over that happened to make sure it didn’t go out. Similarly it takes a lot of work to ensure our flames keep burning. 

LGBTQ+ belonging is a life saving mechanism. Fighting for equality for Trans and LGB+ people in today’s political and social reality is a Life Giving Force. It’s scary, messy, and challenging and we absolutely must take care of ourselves in the process. 

When you feel down, lean on your people. Have a bowl of ice cream. Dance. Scream. Touch grass. Make art. Whatever kindling your flame looks like, please do it. We need you. 

Sacrifice doesn’t mean to give something up. It doesn’t mean we forgo our well-being for a greater cause. In fact I think it means we intentionally do the opposite. In order for us to do our holy liberatory work in the face of extremism, we must offer ourselves and each other greater compassion, kindness, generosity, and love.

The road ahead of us is likely going to get worse before it gets better, but I know our collective flame is strong. So as we face whatever lies ahead I want us to remember we are moving towards something else. I don’t know what that is yet, but I am so grateful to be in it with you. So, what do YOU want to move towards?