Natan Epstein (born 1976) co-founded Havruta, an organization for religious LGBTQ people in Israel, along with Benny Elbaz and was a central figure on internet forums for religious gay men in Israel in the early 2000s.
Natan grew up in a religious Zionist household in Haifa, Israel. The community he grew up in was very close-knit, and he felt tremendous pressure to conform to expectation. Nonetheless, already in the fourth grade, Natan felt that there was something “different” about himself. Once, he was sitting on a bench with friends, and the conversation turned to discussing which girls they liked in their class. Natan was panicked because he could not think of someone. When his turn came, he chose a girl he thought would be a socially acceptable answer, only to be ridiculed by his friends for his choice. Natan left that bench with two realizations: one, next time he should mention a different girl in his class who he would later hope to marry, and two, that without understanding the meaning behind it, he went home and wrote in his diary the names of the boys in his class whom he liked. As Natan grew up and went through puberty, he began to fantasize more about boys in his class but did not give any significance to those fantasies. Natan was convinced that one day he would marry a woman, specifically the girl that he should have mentioned at the bench, and that compartmentalization allowed him to separate his inner experiences from the societal expectations he wanted to conform to.
In 1990, at the age of 14, Natan started the prestigious Sha’alvim Yeshiva High School, an all-boys dormitory school. While at school, Natan continued to feel even more different than his classmates, since even when it was an all-boys school they would talk about their crushes on girls, and he did not have any.
After completing high school in 1994, Natan moved on to study at the Beit El Yeshiva, which adhered to a more rigid religious ideology. However, after a short time he realized that it was not a good fit, and transferred to the Ma’alot Yeshiva, where he served in the joint “hesder” yeshiva system that combines military service with religious study.
As he grew up, there was very little mention of homosexuality or gay people in Natan’s community. It came up occasionally as something that “the weirdos did in Tel Aviv,” but that was a far cry from the lifestyle of his Orthodox community. One night though, when Natan was in Ma’alot he stumbled upon a radio program that changed that. The program was called “L’Tzafon B’Ga’avah” ("To the North with Pride"), and was aired on Radio Tzafon late Thursday nights. This program offered Natan a glimpse into a world where gay people could express themselves openly. The program “L’Tzafon B’Ga’avah” also often featured personal ads for connections using post office boxes. Out of curiosity, Natan took the bold step of opening a post office box at the Ma’alot commercial center, which would allow him to respond to or receive letters discreetly. Natan, with some hesitation, then called the radio station with a small ad about himself as a “young religious guy looking for a boyfriend” and within a week he received thirty letters. As a young 19-year-old man, most of the responses were from people Natan felt were much older than him, but there were two letters that he felt had potential: a kibbutznik and a student at a different yeshiva. Natan started communicating with each of them and experienced such a relief in knowing that he was not alone in his experience. He and the kibbutznik even went on one date, and although neither of them were attracted to each other, it was such a momentous occasion for Natan because he finally met someone in real life who was also gay. Yet, when it came time for Natan to enlist in the IDF, he decided to compartmentalize this part of himself and ignore it again.
As Natan continued his time in the yeshiva though, he still had not fully come to his terms with being gay. He still thought that maybe one day he would marry a woman, especially the girl he had been planning to marry since early childhood—the object of his childhood fantasy. Yet, as his friends began to get married, he realized more and more that the dream might remain just that, and that his attraction to men was not going to go away. This realization became even more apparent to Natan when in 2000, he began studying architecture at the Technion in his hometown of Haifa. On the first day, he entered the auditorium and immediately noticed several men who, in his mind, seemed to also be gay. He recognized that studying at the Technion and no longer being in a religious environment, might allow for him to more openly accept his identity.
During his first year at university, Natan took a swimming course as part of the Technion’s physical education requirements. One day in the pool’s locker room, he exchanged glances with another man, which led to a conversation outside the pool. This man, Dan, became Natan’s first boyfriend. While their relationship only lasted two months, it helped Natan realize that no matter how difficult life as a gay person might be, this was his reality, and he needed to figure out how to live authentically.
Around this time, with the increasing availability of the internet, Natan also began to explore using online forums and chat rooms. One chat room, humorously named "Straight b’Straight," was for sexual encounters between gay men, something that Natan felt was too vulgar for his taste. However, then he discovered a different chat room called "Gays Datiim” (religious gays). This smaller, more niche space typically hosted six or seven users on average, with numbers increasing to about 20 on Thursday evenings and weekends.
The chat room format also allowed for anonymity, with no one exchanging their names or phone numbers, often just saying to another individual that they would meet back on the chat the next day. Through the chat, Natan formed a virtual connection with someone who went by the username Dati24 (Religious24). They would talk nightly in the chat room, and eventually, after much hesitation, they decided to speak over the phone for the first time. The idea, though, that someone from his community would know that he was gay was terrifying. Dati24 turned out to be Benny Elbaz, who after only one date, Natan realized ran in the same circles as him when they were both invited to the same wedding. At the wedding, the two deliberately avoided each other so as not to arouse any suspicion. And although the date did not lead to a relationship, Natan and Benny developed a deep friendship that would eventually lead to the founding of Havruta.
In 2001, Natan, still navigating his identity as a gay man within religious life, became upset after reading an article by journalist Chanoch Daum about the Tel Aviv Pride Parade. Daum, who Natan had studied with at the Ma’alot Yeshiva, angered Natan with descriptions that trivialized the experiences of religious LGBTQ people, so in response Natan wrote a passionate, anonymous letter to the editor, sharing the struggles religious gay men face, and invited Daum to join the online chat room for religious gay men. The newspaper decided to publish Natan’s letter in full. And although Natan thought he would remain anonymous, he received a phone call from Daum, who said hesitantly “Natan, you either know what I’m talking about or you don’t, but if you do—I’m sorry.” While Natan was taken aback, since his whole intention had been that nobody would know he was, he decided to tell Daum that indeed he had written the letter. The publication of the letter sparked an overwhelming positive response within the gay religious community, and that following Saturday night activity in the chat room increased dramatically.
Later, Natan discovered online forums for gay religious people, such as one hosted on the Tapuz website. These forums allowed for more structured discussions compared to chat rooms, since one could write posts and receive responses organized in a specific thread. The forums were full of vibrant discussions on issues relevant to gay religious men, such as navigating questions of Jewish law and homosexuality, coming out, and personal stories about each others’ experiences. People also found the forums an opportunity to find dates with other religious people, something that until then had not had any sort of outlet.
As Natan embraced his gay identity, he experienced an increasing disconnect from the Orthodox community he grew up in. His life began diverging sharply from the communal expectations of marriage, family, and religious observance, leaving him feeling alienated when he would return home to his family’s neighborhood of Haifa on weekends. At the same, Natan felt like he could finally explore theological questions that he had until then ignored, ultimately arriving at the liberating yet destabilizing conclusion that God might not exist. Natan was not angry at God, nor did he feel that God despised him—if anything his years of struggle were comforted by the idea that God loved him and rather it was religious society that had a problem with homosexuality. He simply had lost his faith.
In 2006, the group from the Tapuz forum wanted to have an in-person meetup. For Natan, this idea was even more daring than anything he had done until then. While before a date he might be nervous, at least he knew what he was getting into and who he would be meeting. The idea of a meetup was different. That first meetup was at someone’s apartment in Tel Aviv, and the fear that there would be someone there who would recognize him was terrifying. Yet, Natan went and that meetup ended up being a crucial stepping stone in making more regular gatherings. The opportunity to do this more consistently arose when in August 2007, the Jerusalem Open House, an LGBTQ center, reached out to Natan’s friend Benny to revive a defunct group for religious gay men. Benny, unsure with how to proceed, asked Natan if he would help him, who happily agreed. The two met with the Open House staff, including a psychologist who helped guide them in the early stages. The challenge was figuring out how to reach religious individuals and build the group. At first, they called the group “The Religious Group of the Open House” until they realized that they needed an identity separate from the center in order to attract more members, which is how the name Havruta (literally companion or study partner) was born.
Natan and Benny planned the group’s first meetup at the Merkaz Hamagshimim center in Jerusalem, with the Open House covering the cost of renting the space, so that it would be in a distinct location for those concerned about being associated with an LGBTQ center. They promoted the event through various channels, including the Tapuz forum and posters at university campuses in Jerusalem. They aimed to present the group not as a support group but instead as a social group where people could come together and have fun, focusing on celebrating their identities rather than discussing the struggles of being gay. Natan designed Havruta's logo—a kippah superimposed into two mars symbols, representing the intersection of religious and gay identities. This approach was different from what had existed until then in Israel, as it centered on the positive aspects of being gay, rather than the challenges. They were unsure how many people would attend or what to expect but hoped to create a space that encouraged connection.
The first meetup took place on January 17th, 2008 in a small, discreet room at the center, with only a few chairs set up. The plan was to watch the new movie Ve’ahavta (directed by Chaim Elbaum), which focused on the story of a religious gay man. Natan and Benny were unsure how many people would show up, but they posted their own email and phone numbers for anyone interested to reach out. They had kept the location secret for privacy reasons, sharing directions only with people who reached out. When people started arriving, many felt nervous about entering. Almost everyone would call either Natan or Benny to come out of the center and bring them inside, not wanting to “accidentally” walk in. Despite the anxiety surrounding the event, it ended up feeling tremendously warm. The experience was particularly striking for Natan because the attendees were not teenagers but adults, many of whom were older than Natan or Benny and still seemed hesitant about entering. In the end, thirty people showed up, many more than they had anticipated, and thus the group began to grow over time with regular meetups once a month at the center.
Something that was important to Natan in the early days of Havruta was also that the group should feel open to everyone who needed it, and that it was not just for strictly “religious” people—a category that Natan himself no longer felt that he fit into. Instead, it was a diverse group of people that Natan felt comfortable with, in part because he, like many of the other participants, felt a connection to people from religious backgrounds regardless of their current observance. As Havruta grew, the networks of friends also developed out of the main group, creating a community network even larger than the monthly meetups, with the social aspect becoming a central part of the group’s identity. For their one-year anniversary event, 120 people attended, signaling the growing success that Havruta experienced.
Natan with Havruta co-founder Benny Elbaz in 2010.
Photo credit: Hagai Hirschfeld. As the group continued to expand, it also began to attract people from across the country, and not just Jerusalem. This put pressure on them to have meetups in Tel Aviv as well, and after a year and a half, the group started holding meetups in both cities, alternating between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. With this step, Havruta was no longer just a Jerusalem group, but a national one, as more and more people came from across Israel. Furthermore, the group started diversifying its activities beyond the monthly meetups, incorporating activities such as hikes during Jewish holidays and gatherings on Shabbat.
Natan's involvement with Havruta also made a change in his own religious life. Although he no longer considered himself religious, Havruta brought him into a new community of people who he wanted to join with for prayer or Shabbat meals, which in part allowed ritual aspects to reenter his life. One such example was the establishment of the Pride Minyan, an LGBTQ prayer group on the High Holidays that met in the Gan Meir park in Tel Aviv, which Havruta participated in, and which represented a more liberal expression of Orthodox Judaism. While for Natan this was a positive experience, the Pride Minyan also caused internal tensions in Havruta among some of its more conservative members, some of whom would leave the organization on account of Havruta’s participation in it.
Havruta also helped Natan on his own journey with his family and coming out to them. After Havruta participated in the Jerusalem Pride Parade in 2010, which in-and-of itself was a significant move for the group that had until then avoided outward participation with more general LGBTQ movements, Natan went to his parents’ home in Haifa to spend Shabbat with them. When he was there, his father asked Natan if he happened to know someone from their neighborhood, who Natan only really knew because she participated in Bat Kol, a religious lesbian group that paralleled Havruta. Natan at first was reluctant to say that he knew her because of this connection, saying yes but unsure where his father was going with it. However, his father used that as a springboard to say how he had heard from this woman's mother that she was involved with a group in Jerusalem that had been at the Pride Parade, and finished saying, “A son is a son, a daughter is a daughter,” which Natan took as an invitation from his father to share his truth. While almost a decade earlier, his father had acted harshly when he found out that Natan was no longer observant, sensing that this would be different, Natan came out to his father in response. (Natan had told his mother at some point before but had kept it a secret.) His father reacted calmly, just saying “We didn’t know” as he processed the information, and went outside for a cigarette. They did not discuss it for the rest of the weekend, so while this was a better reaction than Natan might have thought, it also was not yet really resolved. A few days later, his father unexpectedly called Natan, a rare occurrence, and thanked him for spending Shabbat with them. This statement was so normal and out of the blue that it was strange, which Natan recognized as his father’s way of telling him that everything was okay and that he accepted him for who he is.
Later that year, Natan felt that his own need and the need of many members for Havruta as a social group had diminished. Many members had formed their own friendships, making the need for a formal framework to meet less necessary. The group also experienced a shift in its relationship with the Open House, which had very specific ideas about how LGBTQ issues should be handled, and which did not necessarily align with Havruta's own vision. Natan and Benny realized it was time to turn Havruta into its own organization, but that it would also be best to pass on the reins to new leadership who would be ready to take on this challenge.
While no longer at the head of the organization, Natan continued to be involved with Havruta and started a project called Chaver Makhshiv (A Listening Friend). The project served as an email platform helpline where people could reach out for advice and to have someone to talk to. Natan would respond throughout the week and sometimes would give people his number so that they could call him. People of all ages reached out, primarily younger individuals, some even as young as 13. The project was highly successful, and in 2014 Natan continued the initiative into another new idea of his. He had noticed that many of the young people who reached out felt out of place at the regular Havruta meetups, so he decided to start a new Havruta group for young adults that would meet at his apartment. Natan invited around 20 people that he had been in contact with to join the group, and it began to meet regularly almost just like the way Havruta had been started six years before. The members felt that it was a safe space for sharing their experiences, but eventually formed their own internal friendships, and after two years no longer felt the need for the group setting, so it disbanded.
In 2017, Natan had his first daughter and his focus shifted towards family life and further away from his involvement with Havruta, though the deep communal connections and friendship he had built over so many years have continued. It was not just a community organization he had started, Havruta had become Natan's chosen family.
Natan with his partner Rotem Kama at the Havruta 15th anniversary event in Jerusalem on June 29, 2023.
Photo credit: Yuval Weitzen.
Profile photo credit: Adi Lamm
(This biographical statement was written by Jason Greenspan and reviewed by Natan Epstein, based on interviews taken on November 19 and December 5, 2024.)
Biography Date: January 2025