Sapphic Shabbat: Queer Jews find sanctuary over Friday night dinner

In addition to dinners, they host meet-ups which welcome the “wider Jewish queer community and allies”. During Pride weekend, the collective had a picnic in Golders Green Park and they’re planning their next meet-up at Brighton Pride in August — their first foray outside London.

Hannah Brady, Catherine Charles and Beth Kulawy - the trio behind Sapphic Shabbat (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

Kulawy, 27, first saw the need for a Jewish lesbian group when she met several women at a speed dating night who pointed out her large chai necklace. The conversation went something like: “Is that a chai? Are you Jewish? Are you Jewish too?” Before long the women decided, “We should get some lesbian Jews together for a dinner.”

Kulawy, who works in the Jewish community, enlisted the help of Charles, 29, who also works in the community, and Brady, 31, who has a background in events management and student politics. Brady applied to the Schusterman Family Foundation for an initial grant for the first supper.

“I realised there wasn't much going on in queer spaces for Jewish people,” Brady explains over Zoom.

Initially, the trio shared a Google form with their networks. When over 70 people expressed interest, they realised “how much of an appetite there was for things that were not connected to an institution or denomination,” Brady says.

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Women from all walks of life and ages attend their events, some travelling from as far as Manchester for the dinners in London. “People were craving a safe space that represented them,” Charles says.

Each Shabbat dinner has a different feel, from themed food (think pasta night, BBQ or Mexican feast), to gathering a group of women the organisers believe will gel. Guests fill out their interests when they apply to join, helping the trio curate the dinners.

“We look at who has applied and we try and build a group of people who will get along,” Brady explains. One dinner focused on people new to London, while another evening had a younger crowd.

“The groups almost host themselves because people talk and find commonalities,” Charles says.

The dinners are safe environments and “much less intimidating” than some other queer or Jewish spaces, the organisers agree. The blessings are said over Shabbat candles, kiddush wine and challah – and then the women and non-binary group of approximately 15 get chatting.

“Queerness can seem alien if you’ve grown up in a traditional Jewish environment,” Brady notes. Some Sapphic Shabbat guests are attending an LGBTQ+ event or a Jewish event for the first time – and the hosts make them feel welcome in the intimate dinner setting.

One of Sapphic Shabbat's Friday night dinners hosted by the trior at home in north London (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

“It can be difficult as people may not know anyone else that's queer, so keeping our events purposefully small makes sure that everyone is comfortable and that no one is in a situation where they've been sat at the end of a table in silence,” Brady adds.

Most guests have made new friends at the table and there is even a Sapphic Shabbat book group spinoff. Charles says there have been “a few” romantic sparks at the dinners, but “the environment at Sapphic Shabbat is very friendly” and new mates are more common than romance.

Brady and Charles haven’t found love of their own at the dinners. Brady says, "My dad complains about it all the time, saying ‘When are you going to start meeting someone instead of organising for other people?’”

With their background in Jewish youth movements, the trio take their duty of care seriously. “We're matchmakers of friends, sometimes romance, but as the people who've created it, we're more concerned with people having a good time and feeling safe”, Brady goes on. Charles adds, “We hold a responsibility in terms of safeguarding.”

Sapphic Shabbat organised a Pesach meet-up and hosted a table at West London Synagogue Pride Shabbat.

“We're trying to do something which is happening in a lot of queer communities, which is creating communities without buildings or institutions because we don't have access to them. So that means our work is in-person and event-driven,” Brady says.

The group met for drinks at a Jewish-owned pub before last year’s Buttmitzvah – London's famous queer Jewish club night.

Brady observes that not only has the group provided a much-needed space for queer Jews, but also that most gay spaces cater for men, not women “There are a lot of gay bars in London. There’s only one full-time lesbian bar.”

“Buttmitzvah is interesting because you get a lot of straight Jewish women and a lot of gay non-Jewish men. I love it because it is great fun. I certainly feel safer there than I do in a lot of queer spaces, especially since October 7.”

(Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

The group, which started a few months before October 7, has found the need for Jewish spaces has never been more acute. Charles says, “We grew partly because of the amount of antisemitism in queer spaces.”

Brady says the group is “a huge tent.”

“We’re as apolitical as we can be,” she goes on, explaining that a “critical juncture” happened when the Sapphic Shabbat WhatsApp group was overwhelmed with political messages.

At the time, the organisers received concerned messages from members who preferred to share cat pictures and organise meet-ups, rather than discuss Israel-Palestine on the WhatsApp group.

Some of their members are Zionist, while others anti-Zionist.

“We decided we needed to remain a space for everyone. And therefore, as an organisation, we choose not to discuss Israel or Palestine.”

Brady says it was “a hard decision” to remove politics from the group, but “there aren't enough queer spaces for Jewish women and non-binary people.

“We're not here to create more ring-fencing on what it means to be Jewish and queer. This is a place you can put that entire debate [about Israel-Palestine] by the door.”

Kulawy barbequing for a Sapphic Shabbat dinner (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

Putting politics at the door is easier said than done; many of their members have experienced antisemitism in queer venues, “This is particularly bad in lesbian venues,” Brady says.

Multiple queer venues cancelled their Eurovision parties over Israel’s inclusion in the competition. Sapphic Shabbat didn’t do anything for the annual singing contest but some members met independently to watch the show.

“This is a space for people to find connection and often groups that take specific stances [on politics] do the opposite of that, because they're about finding only certain types of people. We want to bring people together from across a spectrum and for every version of what it means to be queer and Jewish to be welcomed,” Brady says.

Charles says that gay Jews have felt “alienated in all directions” since October 7, with the Palestinian flag often hoisted up next to the LGBTQ+ rainbow at anti-Israel rallies or queer venues.

“Lot of people feel a sense of loss that they can’t be their full selves in queer spaces and there are times that we can provide that outlet and there are times that we’re not quite the right space,” Brady adds.

The Sapphic Shabbat pride picnic (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

“We have come in at a time where there has been a real need and desire for solidarity between Jewish people. There are people in our group who do not feel heard in other [Jewish or queer] spaces, and they have explicitly said how much they value this space,” Brady says.

A former UJS president in 2015-16 who spent her tenure “trying to prove to people that antisemitism was real”, she says she she was left feeling “terrified” of non-Jewish progressive spaces after a particularly traumatic National Union of Students conference. This fear led her to put her queer identity “on the back burner”.

The Sapphic Shabbat pride picnic (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

“We tend to fearmonger as a community and, for me, my queer identity is where it hit,” Brady says. “I didn’t date for a long time or go to queer spaces because I was petrified about antisemitism.

“Sapphic Shabbat has given me the opportunity to develop more confidence in myself… I would go to a queer venue today and I would feel valid, but I would still have discomfort about antisemitism.”

The challenges contrast with her experience in Jewish spaces: “I haven’t had a single negative experience about being queer in a Jewish space, but I have had so many experiences that were negative with queer people about being Jewish.”

Brady, a former member of United Hebrew Congregation Newcastle, attributes the acceptance of the United Synagogue to the LGBTQ+ community to the work of the advocacy group KeshetUK. “We are standing on the shoulders of Keshet,” she says.

One woman makes her desires clear with a 'wifey applications now open' sign at a Sapphic Shabbat picnic (Photo: Beth Kulawy)[Missing Credit]

Since their initial grant from the Schusterman Foundation, everything has been funded by the trio and their guests. They have a campaign on GoFundMe and ask guests to contribute a donation to the dinners.

After October 7, many Jewish charities have funnelled their philanthropy into fighting antisemitism or initiatives in Israel.

“There is a real gap in the fundraising world for things that are about celebrating Jewish life in the diaspora, proving that we are proud to be here and proud to be our full selves, and that is a real shame because there is a lot to celebrate,” Brady says.

As Sapphic Shabbat looks to the future, the trio behind the initiative remain committed to their mission of creating an inclusive, welcoming “community without walls” for queer Jews.

With plans to expand beyond London and an invitation to host a Shabbat in New York, Brady, Charles and Kulawy are more determined than ever to build a vibrant, community. “We want to show that there is joy in being both queer and Jewish,” says Brady. “Our dinners are just the beginning.”

https://www.gofundme.com/f/sapphic-shabbat