The Journey Begins

Introduction
Incest in the Jewish Family

In this discussion of incest in the Jewish family, I feel it’s important that you know what I am not, before you perceive what I am. I am not a therapist. Although I have been in therapy for most of my adult life, I am not a trained therapist or psychologist. I am a 56 year old Jewish woman who has survived incest in my Jewish family. I have been a recreational playground leader, a receptionist, spent time as documentary film editor, a media specialist and an employee trainer in the hazardous waste management business. I also have run my own business as an event planner and caterer for hundreds of b’nai mitzvot parties. Near the end of the catering time of my life, I realized I wanted to be in the sanctuary more than setting up the party in the social halls of synagogues.

Although I grew up believing I was Jewish, prior to my first marriage I found out that my mother was not Jewish at the time I was born. I therefore needed to complete the mikvah as a conversion ritual to become officially Jewish. I have been married twice and have a “get” from the first divorce. I was so honored to be Jewish when the rabbis presented my “get”. They said, mozel tov, may you find happiness with someone else. I was single for about 10 years before the second marriage. During that single time I found myself with memories of my childhood incest and began a healing journey within my self, my soul, and my connection to Judaism.

I have a son from my second marriage, who will be 21 in February. I have been in a committed relationship with my partner for more than seven years. Both know my story and are very supportive of this thesis project.

I spent years in darkness. I spent years pretending that all was well, when the truth inside my soul was total chaos. I lived in confusion of what was truth and what was fantasy. I had dreams of falling into blackness and would wake up before hitting the bottom. Over and over and over and over, the same dream was a part of my life. I was an over achiever, working and going to school to attempt to cover the darkness of my soul.


When beginning this project, I was directed to the readings that are heard every year on the afternoon of Yom Kippur. The laws of incest are in detail, as to who may sexually be with another. Year after year, Jews around the world are required to listen to these laws. On Yom Kippur afternoon, after hours and hours in prayer and fasting, Jews are to listen to the laws of sex. I questioned many of my Jewish friends about these readings of this afternoon torah portion and most of them had no idea what was being discussed.

I would stand next to Zada in services and would play with the fringes of his tallit. I loved the chanting. I loved the calmness of prayer. Although I did not understand the Hebrew, I felt God’s presence within my young soul.

This was also a place to be safe. I had no knowledge of my own family history of incest. I didn’t know what my Zada, my wonderful grandfather, had done with his daughter. I didn’t know that incest could be passed on, generation to generation. I only knew of what was happening to me at home, which I was to never tell anyone.

I was 15 years old when Zada died. I remember riding in the car while my father was driving. Zada’s wife, we called “Aunt Bess”, my mother and sister, all sat quietly. When we ask what happened, Dad started crying and said Zada had died. Life changed dramatically after that moment.

At Zadas funeral I found out that he was a Kohanim. I knew about the way he could hold his fingers in a special way. I didn’t know what being a Kohanim actually meant until now. I found out that Zada never married “Aunt Bess” because she was a divorced woman. She had been his common law wife for more then 20 years.

Yet being a Kohanim carries an honor, much more than issues of marriage. A Kohanim is a direct descendant of Aaron, Moses’ brother, who was the first Kohain Gadol or high priest. In the time of Aaron, the Kohanim led the blessings of Israel in the Temple and Tabernacle and were looked upon as the role models of the Jewish people. However, from the time that the Roman army destroyed the Temple in 70 CE, membership in the Kohanim priesthood was maintained by keeping ritually pure. This meant kohanim could not marry a divorcee because the woman had already shared herself with another man, and kohanim couldn’t marry a convert because their life prior to the conversion had likely been filled with impure acts, according to the Torah. Kohanim were also commanded to avoid contact with a corpse in order that they maintain the highest level pf purity. And even though it safe to assume that most kohanim have likely walked over some sort of unmarked grave in their lifetime, the Torah commands that they not further impurity themselves by knowingly doing it again.

The status of Kohain is passed on through the male side of the family. Therefore, my father held the status of being a Kohain. I, therefore, am a Bat Kohain, daughter of a Kohain. So, according to Jewish law, I can not pass on this connection to my son. I am the Bat Kohain who is taking my priestly responsibility seriously. I accept that I am probably a descendant of Aaron and that Kohanim are supposed to be the role models of the Jewish people. I need to share my story so that others will heal.

The irony of this pure Kohainim responsibility, in contrast to the lives that my grandfather and father lived, is overwhelming. Zada was such a “pure” man that he could not marry a divorced woman. Yet, for years following the death of his wife, and mother of his four children, he slept with is oldest daughter as if she were his wife. My father, the Kohanim descendant of his father, sexually abused both of his daughters for years. Not only is this pain and suffering to those abused, it is also an insult to the Jewish people.


The shame of incest has lived within my being for most of my life. From the time I was 7 years old, until I was almost 16, I was continually incested by my father. I didn’t tell anyone. I loved my father. I wanted the attention and lived confused and constantly tricked into loving my father the way he wanted. He said this is what people do when they love each other but don’t tell anyone. Today I feel there is shame in being from a Kohanim family which overlooked the spiritual connection to Judaism. My father refused to belong to a synagogue. Our family never attended services together. My sister was telling others that our father was sexually doing things to her. No one believed her. Yet, when my sister had an older Catholic boyfriend, our father went into one of his rages. He ripped his shirt and said his daughter was dead to him. He sat shivah for her. He ordered my mother and me not to talk to her. When another aunt asked if my father had done anything sexual to me…I lied to my aunt. I was protecting my father. I was confused beyond words. My sister found comfort in Catholicism and became a Catholic at the age of 12. I spent more time with my cousins and was able to go to “shul’ with them. As I shared before, I found comfort in the chanting of Hebrew prayers. I never understood the words. I didn’t get to go to Sunday school or Hebrew school like my cousins. Yet, here I am, at the age of 56, in a continuation of this journey of healing and connected to my Judaism

The research for this project feels as if this has been my life purpose. I have healed in the journey of writing and uncovering the past. The uncovering of my past has returned me to the soul that I was born to be. I reclaimed my maiden name, seen on the title page of this project, and no longer have shame associated with who I am. I am alive to tell the story so others may heal.

Statement of the Problem


Incest does exist in the Jewish family. There are no lines of division by culture, religion or economic means. It is estimated that 60 million survivors of childhood sexual abuse live in America today. Approximately 1 in every 3-5 women and 1 in every 5- 7 men have been sexually abused by the time they are 18 years of age.[1]Another study found that 4.5% of women report an incestuous experience with fathers or stepfathers before the age of 18. [2] Long term effects of childhood incest include fear, anxiety, depression, anger, hostility, inappropriate sexual behavior, poor self esteem, tendency toward substance abuse and difficulty with close relationships. [3]

There is no evidence to indicate that sexual abuse in the Jewish community is any less than or different from what occurs in the general population. As Rabbi Julie Spitzer wrote, “the mezuzah on the doorpost is no charm, warding off the ills of society at large.” From the Talmud to the New York Times, there are stories of sexual abuse and incest in the Jewish community. They aren’t new: They are not caused by external factors. They don’t just happen among those who are somehow “different.” People molest because they are wounded and because we do not stop them.[4]


Up until now there have been very few individuals who are “survivor friendly” in the Jewish community. We need to start opening our minds and our hearts to begin listening to survivors of childhood sexual abuse bearing witness. Just like holocaust survivors, who were initially shunned, survivors of childhood abuse need to be allowed to speak in order to heal, to be able to learn to connect with God, to see God as something other then neglectful, abusive and cruel. [5]

I know I am not alone.
[1] Prevent-abuse-now.com Web site
[2] The Secret Trauma, Diana Russell, Basic Books, 1986
[3] Browne & Finkelhor, 1986
[4] Lev, Rachel. Shine the Light, Secual Abuse and healing in the Jewish Community. Pg23
[5] The AwarenessCenter.org/experiencegod.html