Ormus said:
"What is natural is moral, and what is moral is created by God."
This, indirectly, established the principle that sin was not inherent, and, as such, any sin must be a conscious choice. This idea was mainly expounded by Jewish theologians, particularly Moses Maimonides, back in Moorish Spain (just as classical and Islamic knowledge found its way north, notable Christian scholarship trickled down south, as well), who then declared that those born with traits contrary to "the Law" (which, in this case, referred to the various idiosyncrasies that make up Mosaic Law) were not violating it. Between this precedent and probably the shared experience of centuries of persecution, this is likely why Jews have been far quicker to embrace the modern understanding of homosexuality than Christianity (the Jews that are most hostile are Orthodox Jews and similar sects, which reject the Talmud and other medieval scriptures, and, as such, they wouldn't be exposed to this kind of philosophy).
Yolland, of course, is free to correct me if I've misrepresented Judaism at all. This is what I've surmised through my own reading.
Haven't been around much the last couple days, but since you offered I will comment.
Yes, Maimonides was unquestionably profoundly influenced by the Mu'tazilites--though not by High Scholastics like Aquinas, since he lived and wrote a century before them. In his commentary
Mishneh Torah he develops the Talmudic concept of
midot, "character traits," into the familiar-sounding (given his influences) theory that the 'middle path' should be the ideal; everyone's 'constitution' displays a mixture of inborn and acquired tendencies in terms of appetite, temper, 'sensuousness' and so on, but regardless one's goal should be to achieve moderation in all these. However, it *sounds* to me like you might be somewhat conflating this concept with another Talmudic principle Maimonides draws on,
oness rachmana petarei, which essentially means that violations of Jewish law committed under "duress"--which here can signify either coercion, or something somewhat resembling our concept of a "crime of passion"--ought to be pardoned. And
oness certainly does play a role in many rabbinic arguments (from all mainstream denominations, including Orthodoxy) in favor of, at minimum, welcoming openly gay and lesbian Jews in synagogues. So, I suppose you could argue that to a point this concept (
oness) may 'predispose' Jews to an acceptance of the modern recognition of sexual orientation. The problem with reliance on
oness, at least from the standpoint of Jews who wish to see same-sex Jewish marriages granted the same
halakhic (Jewish law) legitimacy as straight Jewish marriages, is that it doesn't entail nullification of the wrong committed; it merely grants reprieve from the consequences. Therefore, it isn't adequate grounds for abrogating Levitical law (see below) so as to decisively grant said legitimacy.
(Rabbinic Judaism, of course, never had the doctrine of Original Sin to begin with--I'm not sure if that's what you were getting at with the part about "establish[ing] the principle that sin was not inherent"?)
As far as the sources you named and the Orthodox attitude towards them, Orthodox Jews certainly don't reject the Talmud--on the contrary, that's the one denomination where it's commonplace for anyone besides a rabbi to have studied Talmud (which is why I've studied it; I had a fairly traditional Orthodox upbringing). The Talmud is an indispensable fixture of rabbinic Judaism, period, since it contains not only the
Mishnah (Oral Law) detailing the application of everything from agricultural tithes to marriage contracts to Sabbath cookware regulations, but also the
Gemara, rabbinic debates and commentaries on the
Mishnah compiled roughly 4th-5th cen. AD, which establish the basic jurisprudential, hermeneutical and exegetical principles of rabbinic analysis. Contemporary Talmud editions do always include one or more of the numerous important medieval commentaries in addition to the
Mishnah and
Gemara, but there's no strong correlation between which denomination one belongs to and which Talmud edition one prefers.
As for Maimonides, while his synthesis of Judaism with a Mu'tazili-inflected Aristotelian--and, to a lesser extent, Neo-Platonist--worldview (his Moses sounds remarkably like a 'philosopher-king') hasn't had quite the decisive impact on subsequent Jewish thought that Aquinas had on Catholic thought, he's still the closest thing to a 'Jewish equivalent' of that, and his works are still widely read and studied in Jewish higher education, regardless of denomination.
It's a highly speculative topic, but personally I wouldn't locate any (relatively) greater receptivity on the part of Jews to modern understandings of homosexuality in the absence or presence of any one particular doctrine. Other than the socio-historical aspect you mentioned--i.e., awareness from experience of how elements of existing worldviews have a way of getting taken out of context or deliberately exaggerated so as to justify persecuting minorities--I would tend to see the key difference in how that dialogue has unfolded as being that Judaism has the principle of
la'akor davar min haTorah, abrogation of the Law, whereas Christianity has, in essence, 'It's the One, True, Eternal And Definitive Interpretation or Bust'. (A generalization, I know, but then what follows is all generalizations too, so...) The Oral Law gives the Sanhedrin--and by extension, rabbis, in the diaspora condition--the power to abrogate a law if following it in the present environment would entail violating the precepts ('spirit of the law') underlying it. As such, the abrogation must have majority support of the rabbinic assembly, and must be performed in accord with the principles and qualifications spelled out in the Oral Law. Abrogation is not a matter of 'striking the law from the books,' but rather of definitively delimiting its application (and thus by extension, its interpretation as well). Ancient examples of this would include the abrogation of the Deuteronomic injunction to kill a rebellious son, the Hillelite
prosbul allowing lenders to avoid cancelling debts in Sabbath year as required by turning them over to the Sanhedrin instead (which was done because too many were refusing to lend once Sabbath year drew near), and the loosening of Sabbath moratoria on work to facilitate the healing of the sick and the sharing of food with the poor (incidentally, the latter two occurred during Jesus' childhood).
Now, here's where it gets somewhat complicated: while all mainstream denominations of Judaism accept this principle, only Conservative Judaism is likely to apply it, in this case, in the foreseeable future. For Reform Judaism, it's basically a moot point: by definition, that denomination sees most of Jewish law as devoid of spiritual value in the modern world and therefore nonbinding, save for those laws which they define as "moral laws" as opposed to "ritual" ones. (As you might expect, this distinction--which owes much to the influence of Hegelianism on Reform thought, but I'll skip
that tangent--is a historically unprecedented distinction within Judaism, and much of Reform rabbinic literature is devoted to debating which laws go into which category.) At present, by majority opinion the relevant Levitical laws are classified as 'ritual law' and therefore nonbinding, so marriages/commitment ceremonies for gay Reform Jews are permitted; while at the same time, a recognized minority opinion gives Reform rabbis who don't support the distinction (in this case) the option of refusing to perform such ceremonies. This typically rabbinic, multiple-official-opinions approach is possible in this case precisely because no actual abrogation occurred.
In Orthodoxy, by contrast, the traditional stance on abrogation is that in a post-Gemara world, Judaism is irrevocably compromised by the intellectual, social, and cultural fragmentation inherent in diaspora life; therefore, any claim that sufficient, collective rabbinic wisdom to righteously make such a change exists is greeted with intense skepticism at best, hostile denial at worst. As I mentioned earlier, on the principle of
oness, many Modern Orthodox (as opposed to the Haredim, basically meaning the Hasidim plus a few other 'ultra-Orthodox' groups of mostly Lithuanian descent) now welcome gay and lesbian Jews in their synagogues, but that's pretty much the end of it. My younger brother, a liberal Orthodox rabbi, feels that all the emphasis on
oness is actually hurting the cause at this point, as it comes with the downside of encouraging the view that gay people are inherently morally flawed in some unique way; in his opinion, what needs to happen is renewed debate as to the acceptability of contemporary abrogation (including the argument that many Orthodox rabbinic rulings over the last few centuries involve 'creative reinterpretations' which appear to be abrogations in all but name), followed by debate over the various Talmudic and medieval opinions which have interpretively expanded the Leviticus passages to encompass far more than one particular act, such that the very idea of sexual orientation is in itself seen as a direct challenge to Jewish law.
As you might expect from that summary, the Orthodox thus tend to cling very hard to the "hope" that homosexual orientation is somehow categorically capable of being "cured"--and the same is true for those Conservative rabbis who strongly oppose abrogation. Once they acknowledge that that's not the case, then they'll be put in a very tough place ethically, due to the intense traditional Jewish distaste for celibacy, the sense that it's an imbalanced and stunting way to live (as Maimonides might say), and most definitely a cruel burden to
force on anyone. Of course, this still leaves the option of retorting, "Well, let the state extend civil marriages to them then; that much I have no problem with," but then you'd be violating yet another traditional taboo, namely against driving Jews who wish to live an observant life away from their faith.
Anyhow, I think i've
ed on here long enough, especially since the Jewish debate on this is, effectively, a sideshow at best; but hopefully that clarifies the picture a little.