Flags, Parades and Fireworks: Pride Month 2021

 Flags, Parades and Fireworks: Pride Month 2021

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

This week’s Torah portion (Balak, Numbers 22:2-25:9), more so than any other parasha, is simultaneously frightening and hopeful, serious and sarcastic—and above all, full of ironic humor.

The “hero” of this portion, Balaam, is a blind seer (first of the many ironies). He is said to speak for God, but in his heart of hearts intends to disobey God. He is said to see the future, but can’t see what’s right in front of him. And as for kindness and compassion—the surest signs of a true prophet—Balaam has none and, in anger and frustration, beats his animal for disobeying him (and probably saving his life).

Finally, Balaam’s speech—intended to be a curse upon the Israelites—turns out instead to be a blessing, its words now part of a prayer said by Jews upon entering a synagogue!

When Balaam is hired by the Moabite King Balak for the purpose of casting an evil spell upon the Israelites, the famed seer seeks a high place from where he can see the tribes of Israel. But what he perceives doesn’t match what he had been told about them. Instead of an unruly swarm of locust devouring any growth upon the land, he sees neat and orderly dwellings, all arranged in such a way as to ensure privacy, dignity and respect.

Mah tovu ohalecha Yaakov, mishk’notech Yisrael, “How goodly are your tents O Jacob, your dwellings, Israel,” Balaam exclaims, arousing the wrath of the Moabite king.

Like Balak, we too sometimes fail to see things the way they truly are, until we experience them from a more personal perspective. Too often we see the world through a prism of misinformation and prejudice. We are taught to judge others by hearsay or gossip, and then, to make things worse, we spread these lies further, repeating them until others begin to believe them too.

How often, when I see two men or women holding hands while walking down the street, do I hear others express anger at the public display of affection. Or when a Pride Parade is set to pass through city streets, people raising objections that take the form of something like, “I have nothing against gays, but why do they need to flaunt their inclinations?” 

And basically, there are two reasons for doing exactly that: One, because being proud of one’s identity is a basic human right; and two, because people—all people, regardless of their gender identification—need to be reminded of this truth not only one month out of the year, but rather 365 days a year. 

For thousands of years, being queer meant hiding in shame and darkness. It meant facing discrimination, imprisonment, violence and often—particularly among teenagers—suicide. For some it meant eternal damnation, rejection both by one’s family as well as by God and God’s supposed representatives on earth.

Expression of pride, on the other hand, represents acceptance. Instead of living in fear, waving a rainbow flag tells both yourself and others that you belong, that you are not alone in the world, that there’s a loving and supportive community that you are a part of. 

Parades signify victory. A Pride Parade symbolizes that you are no longer oppressed or overpowered. You have fought the fight and come out victorious. You have come to understand, love and accept yourself for all that you are, and for all that you can be.

Society and the requisites of survival condition us to conform. We cannot survive on our own, so we become part of a group and show allegiance and commitment to its customs and laws. We are cool if we wear the right clothes or sport the right shoes. We are sexy if we drink the right beer. We are rugged if we drive the high-powered pickup; or conversely, womanly, if we assume a less dominant posture, put on a softer facial expression, wear the right makeup or—once again—the right shoes. 

But while for some these guidelines provide comfort and security, for others they only serve to confine and restrict. They are constant reminders of what’s accepted and what isn’t. They also serve to bring up painful memories of insults and slurs, of hundreds of “no’s” to any one “yes!”  

Jews have often been compared to subhuman animals. Balaam and Pharaoh, Haman and Hitler, and so many in-between, have tried to suppress, steal or deny our identity and authenticity. On Simchat Torah, however, the holiday where we most fervently express joy and pride in our heritage, we wave flags and march, we parade and dance with our Torah scrolls. Likewise, the blue and white flag of the State of Israel expresses not only national pride, but also our eternal hopes and aspirations—boundless as the sky above—and the infinite light and potential embedded in each and every one of us.

So too, do the flags, parades and fireworks that highlight important days in our American history and tradition.  These remind us of the challenges we have overcome, and of the yet many possibilities that still lie ahead of us.

And so too, do Rainbow Flags and Pride Parades, which serve to remind us all of the diversity of humankind, the strength that stems from the collective effort, and the promise of peace that comes after the struggle.

May we all learn to accept the uniqueness that resides within each human being; may the light embedded within each of us unite into a great flame that will shed light upon the path both into our hearts, and forward into a future filled with dignity, respect and love for all.

© 2021 by Boaz D. Heilman