(RNS) — I’m sure you’ve heard the gag about how ultra-Orthodox Jews supposedly consummate their marriages by having sex through a hole in a sheet.
It is one of those persistent Jewish urban myths, and of course it’s not true. But, we live in a world in which Jews are news. And let’s face it, for many of us, sexuality is both titillating and crazy-making. Take a community that many people already perceive as insular and “other,” and you have a perfect journalistic recipe with a little voyeurism on the side.
That was my reaction when I saw a piece on The New York Times opinion page this week, featuring a short documentary film by Rachel Elitzur, a haredi (ultra-Orthodox) filmmaker. Her 13-minute movie, “The First Night,” details the sexual practices or non-practices of newly married ultra-Orthodox couples. In her words:
A bride and groom can experience profound awkwardness — and far worse — in their initial physical union. Though not every first night spent together is traumatic, similar questions loom over every ultra-Orthodox wedding: When the band quiets down, the guests leave and the bride and groom go home together, what will happen between them? Will it be good? Will it be welcome?
Quite often, the answer is no, it is not good. Sometimes, it is painful and traumatic.
I understand why Elitzur made this film. She expresses deep concern about how many haredi couples are initially incapable of engaging in marital joy. They find themselves prisoners of their own innocence and ignorance, and the topic merits real conversation and real introspection. Haredi leaders and educators need to fully engage in the issue of sexuality within their communities, and they need to see how their people are hurting.
But the most appropriate venues for this film are in New York neighborhoods like Borough Park, Williamsburg and Monsey, which have large ultra-Orthodox populations. Not The New York Times.
Why should the typical Times reader care about the sex lives of the frum (pious)? The interest is not only bizarre, but borders on pornographic. And I hesitate to say it, but it edges into the territory of antisemitism.
The Times seems to take delight in placing Israel under a moral microscope. This is a newspaper that put an emaciated boy in Gaza on its front page, only to subsequently admit that the child had pre-existing health conditions. It recently devoted op-ed space to raising funds for an anti-Zionist publication. Placed in the Times, the documentary seems to smirk at the perceived foibles of pious Jews.
But let’s talk about Jews and sex. To quote the late Jewish historian David Biale in his book “Eros and the Jews”:
Modern culture has a fascination with the sexuality of the Jews, a fascination marked by wildly conflicting beliefs. Perhaps because Judaism never embraced celibacy as a spiritual value, some hold that the Jews have a much more positive relationship to Eros than do Christians. Judaism, they claim, affirms the unity of the body and the spirit. Some anti-Semites, by contrast, view the sexuality of the Jews as a threat to an ordered world, a barbaric affront to civility …
Yes, in the dating world, many Orthodox Jews will observe strict rules against both pre-marital sex and even touching. And yes, many strictly Orthodox couples meet through a shadchan (matchmaker). I always smile to myself when I see those young couples shyly drinking coffee together in the lobbies of hotels in Jerusalem. And yes, traditional Jews have huge families. Those children are a source of joy and a love song to Jewish survival.
But, sex is not just about procreation. It is a source of pleasure, companionship and holiness. The Jewish Bible includes Song of Songs, which is unabashedly erotic, sensuous and lush. The ancient rabbis insisted that spouses should enjoy one another — in fact, a man was obligated to fulfill his wife’s sexual needs. Medieval Jewish philosophers, including Maimonides, understood physical intimacy as a dimension of emotional and spiritual well-being.
Which brings us to the lascivious gaze of the hater.
My favorite definition of antisemitism is simply: “There is something about the Jews.” Antisemitism is an obsession, and sexuality is a handy focus of that obsession.
Antisemites like to fantasize about Jews as lasciviously preying on innocent Christians. They love to mention the Jewishness of Jeffrey Epstein and Harvey Weinstein. Or, the opposite — that Jews are undersexed. Nazi propaganda trafficked in both images simultaneously: the Jewish male as a threat to Aryan women, and the Jewish male as sexually inferior. Why choose one lie when you can enjoy two?
Why did the Times decide to feature a story about the sex life of haredim? When can readers expect a comparable exposé on purity culture among evangelical Christians? Or a documentary on arranged marriages in certain Muslim communities? Or an investigation into the sexual ethics of conservative Catholics? When will we see a deep dive into the intimate lives of any other American religious minority? I question whether other religious groups would receive this treatment.
This could be an opportunity for genuine conversation — not about the imagined exoticism of ultra-Orthodox sex lives, but the real Jewish understanding of sexuality as sacred, mutual, joyous and human. The Jewish tradition insists that the bedroom can be a sanctuary, and that eros is not the enemy of spirituality but one of its expressions. The challenge, then, is not to gawk at the supposed peculiarities of haredim, but to reclaim Judaism’s own healthy, life-affirming vision of embodied love.
Beyond that, a responsible community must look at itself responsibly. Speaking as an outsider who admires certain aspects of Orthodox life, it is appropriate for Orthodox leaders to ask serious questions about sex education, about the scandal of forced marriages and traumatic divorce procedures, and many other issues. I want Elitzur’s film to open up those topics for discussion. Perhaps it will. In which case, it would be a blessing.
