We met him when he was frightened and sad. He stood out for his intelligence and kindheartedness but it seemed as if a light had gone out inside him.
He became a member of our household. Eventually, he told us that his rabbi had sent him to conversion therapy for homosexuals, where it was explained to him that he should put a rubber band around his wrist, and he should snap it every time he had thoughts about men – then the thoughts would disappear. They didn't, but his sense of guilt mounted, as did his physical pain. He became deeply depressed, and only then stopped going to "therapy."
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The second time we met a young man who had experienced conversion therapy, we already knew what to expect. Still, we were struck by the depth of his pain and trauma. That young man could not stand the sense of guilt and failure. He tried to end his life, and only by the grace of God was he saved.
The third youth we met told us that his conversion therapy had included personal mentoring from his rabbi, who suggested that he attend seminars on masculinity and watched porn films with him so he would become a "real man." As the years went by, we encountered more cases of young people who had been subjected to "conversion therapy." The stories were tough, and evil.
I've been married to Hannah for 23 years and am a father of five. I'm a professional in the field, and not a member of the LGBTQ community. But in the past 10 years, since we helped establish the Yachad Tel Aviv Community, a liberal Orthodox community that follows the precept "The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth" (Psalm 145:18), we have become a community and a home for many young LGBTQ men and women.
A decade ago, Yachad was unique. Today, happily, there is a different spirit among many religious Jews, one that doesn't banish people and makes room in God's house for everyone, no matter what their choices or gender are. I feel that this spirit is bringing light to many places that used to be unwilling to consider it.
I have yet to meet anyone who has "successfully" undergone conversion therapy – there might be some. But we've seen the failures of these treatments, and the heavy price they exact, time and time again.
I oppose the very idea of conversion therapy. But even those who think they are necessary should know that the mental health of young people is delicate and must be addressed personally and with precision. Before youngsters are sent to these treatments, all their ramifications and possible harm must be studied. This is a matter of life and death, nothing less.
It is every person's right, and certainly that of a public official, to express their opinion. We must allow them to say what they think even when we don't accept it. I also don't like public lynch mobs, and am not willing to participate in them. These are the opinions of Israel's education minister; he was elected by the public and appointed by the prime minister, who has the authority to do so. So let Education Minister Peretz clarify his remarks, let the public evaluate them, and let them decide whether or not he continues to represent them in the Knesset and in his current position in the next government.
But the caution and sensitivity entailed in a role like that obligate us to remember the words of Avtalyon in Pirkei Avot 1:11: "Scholars, be careful with your words. For you may be exiled to a place inhabited by evil elements [who will distort your words to suit their negative purposes]. The disciples who come after you will then drink of these evil waters and be destroyed, and the Name of Heaven will be desecrated."
