Where went my connection with Judaism?

Now lost…..does it really matter?

Gerry Dubbin

I used to be a young Jewish boy.

I was also the second generation of Lithuanian Ashkenazi refugees, my grandparents among many thousands of Jews, who, during the early years of the 20th century fled brutal attacks, murder, rape and political disfranchisement in their then homeland. Attacks such as this, experienced over many years, forced them to leave, in a desperate search for safety and peace. They eventually found a haven after settling in the northern English city of Leeds.

My grandparents were ordinary, deeply religious, people who followed the tenets and practices of their ancient religion throughout their lives. Their great wish, following settlement in England, was to pass on the rich culture and religion that had sustained them and the Jewish people, throughout centuries of rejection, alienation and attack.

As a young boy, I enjoyed celebrating the festivals, rituals and history of Judaism, as it had been passed down from generation to generation by a long, continuous line of ancestors. From an early age I studied Jewish history and learned much about what being Jewish meant. As a young student at the Leeds Talmud Torah, I and fellow students were encouraged to study the religion’s laws and its ancient written languages, Aramaic and Hebrew. This included study of the old testament from Genesis to Malachi, the Talmud, Torah and other sacred Jewish texts. All these became an integral part…