Michael Kessler:

I’m a 50 year-old gay Jewish man. My husband Buckley and I live in Washington, DC.

Buckley is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Mormons. By far the strongest connection Buckley and I have is our faith in G-d, followed closely by our unwavering devotion to our family. Faith in G-d and devotion to family are the strongest components of the LDS and Jewish faiths. Buckley is a good husband, a good son, a good father, a good brother and a good friend. Those are all the qualities that I love about him. Those are all the qualities that were instilled in me as I grew up to be the measure of the worth of a man. There is no earthly reason Buckley and I should ever have even met –- but we did, and I thank G-d for that every day.

Growing Up Jewish
When I was a young child, my parents, older sister and I lived in the same Florida town as my maternal grandparents, and we spent lots of family time together. My great-grandmother and some of my great-aunts and great-uncles lived only three hours south of us then, so we often had four and sometimes even five generations of family together for holidays and other gatherings. Soon two younger sisters joined my family. By then we’d moved to a larger home in another town south of where we'd been living, and my grandparents moved a couple miles away from us a few years later. Our new home was less than an hour's drive from almost our entire family, so it became the place for family get-together like our annual Passover seder and Thanksgiving feasts.

My parents, Phyllis and Joe Kessler, have been married for more than 53 years. My father worked long hard hours doing back-breaking work to provide for his family, and my mother insisted on being a stay-at-home mom until I was at least ten, because she wanted to be there when we came home from school. She wanted to hear our stories of how school was each day, and she always let us invite our friends over to play in the yard or in the house. We went to synagogue regularly, and my sisters and I attended Hebrew school every Sunday and Wednesday. My parents were on the board of our synagogue.  

On Friday nights, Mom lit the Sabbath candles, my father said the blessing over the sacramental wine and the challah (braided loaf of bread for the Sabbath), and we sat down to a meal of chicken soup followed by beef brisket. Like many Jewish families, we all talked at once at the dinner table, with three or four simultaneous conversations going on, so each of us was usually involved in more than one conversation at a time. Even today, when we are all together, Buckley is usually rendered speechless at the seeming chaos at our dinner table, but we were always encouraged, in the Jewish tradition, to explore new ideas and to challenge convention. My parents told us, “That’s the only way you’ll grow. You have to think for yourselves and live your own lives.” They didn’t always like the result at the time, but they are very proud parents now.

My parents, my sisters and I usually talk at least once a week. All of us will drop everything to be on the first flight to be by the side of another in need. It has always been that way for my family, and it always will be.

Coming Out
I had a girlfriend in high school, and we were very serious about each other, but my feelings about my gayness became clearer to me as I neared high school graduation, and I told my girlfriend The Truth. I think it’s safe to say she was shocked, but now, more than thirty years later, we are still friends, and she has a wonderful family. I didn’t get up the courage to tell my parents for several more years. First I told my mom, and she cried and told me she loved me. Then Dad took me for a drive and told me I would always be his son, but that it was a hard life I’d chosen, and I might want to give it some more thought. Both of my parents told me that all they wanted was for me to be safe and happy. My sisters each said something like “Oh, okay,” and that was the extent of the family crisis. Even my grandfather, before he passed away, let me know in his own way that he would love me no matter what. I remember just him and me being in his car, stuck waiting in a long line of cars. On the radio was something about Anita Bryant. “Why doesn’t she just leave people alone to live their lives the way they want!” he said, looking at me with a look I didn’t understand at the time. But I feel now that my grandfather sensed I was gay, and he wanted to let me know that I would always be loved unconditionally.

Today
After I came out, my closeness to Judaism grew. For many years, I attended services every Friday night and every Saturday morning. I was on the board of one of the synagogues I belonged to. Being gay has not affected my commitment to Judaism, nor the Jewish community’s commitment to me. My ability to participate fully has not changed. In fact, I believe being married to Buckley has strengthened our faith for each of us individually. We often talk about the Torah (the Five Books of Moses), and about what makes him a Mormon and me a Jew. As we often say, we are both from people who have wandered in the desert, and we understand each other and give each other spiritual and emotional support. Both traditions place a strong emphasis on family, and together we place great emphasis on honoring our unified family, Jeppson and Kessler.

When Buck and I announced we were getting married (with only one week notice), my parents flew to Toronto so they could stand as witnesses at our wedding at Toronto City Hall on August 27, 2004. Buck and I were overjoyed that my parents were coming, but not too surprised: Over the last dozen years or so, Mom has been honored several times for service to the gay and lesbian community of South Florida. Dad has also been active in gay rights organizations, and he and Mom were even given their own float in a Pride Parade in South Florida. My niece and nephews have grown up knowing Uncle Mike is gay, and all of them have spent quality time with Uncle Mike and Uncle Buck. Buckley’s daughter and her husband came to my parents’ 50^th wedding anniversary celebration a few years ago, and a couple of years ago, my parents flew to Utah to attend Buckley's daughter’s graduation from BYU, followed by a tour of southern Utah. My parents have had the pleasure of meeting Buckley’s mother, sister and a couple of his brothers.

I think Buckley’s family was a bit wary of me at first, but time has given us a greater appreciation for each other. All of Buck’s family members have gone to great lengths to let me know that I’m a member of the family.