Religion and Other Stories

We were what may be called, a semi-observant family, like many working class families even to this day. Semi-literally true by numbers of Jews who “marry out” today Our religion began and ended with my mother, or one could say with her father, my Zeide.

My father worked on Shabbos out of sheer necessity His father in law, my prosperous Zeide made my father persona non grata in his eyes and as a consequence we struggled and were banished to the wilds of Notting Hill.

My dad was bitter that my mother’s jewellery was pawned and lost while her older sister Musha’s family flourished. Musha following the untimely death of my booba was the de facto Queen of the clan as the Alpha female.

Musha deserves a story to herself so I will resist the temptation to elaborate here. My Zeide whose name I bear was, if I may coin a blasphemous phrase, a Mitzvah addict. As an example, he gave my mother’s trousseau to a poor bride.

He also practised extreme self-denial of comfort, a trait inherited by my mother who worshipped him. My father rarely attended our dilapidated shabby synagogue close to Portobello market.

I absorbed my religion from my mother who, because of her father was remarkably knowledgeable on the esoteric minutiae of Judaism.

A Jewish boys initiation into his cultural inheritance was by the rite of circumcision his Bris.

All I can say on that issue is I am glad I have no sons. There was a special ceremony for the first born male too. My parents had a mutual cousin Avram, mutual because my parents shared cousin-ship - there were others. Avram, then unmarried, acted as a surrogate father to me in my boyhood, as my father rarely left his workshop.

Avram had a brother Jakob Mendel, who was killed when serving in the French Army and posthumously was awarded Croix de Guerre and Médaille Militaire. Both medails are now with his family in Israel. Why Jakob Mendel was in France after serving in the Tsarist Army remains a mystery.

Every Armistice day myself and my younger siblings were required with due solemnity to stand in front of these medals at the salute. Avram himself was in action in WW1 and was twice wounded. He introduced me to fishing, football and other normal manly pleasures which I would otherwise have missed. He took me to have for my first visit to the barber I have since learned there is an ancient Judaic tradition Upsherin, in which a boy on his third birthday has his haircut.

I remember the barber placing a board across the arms of the chair for me to sit on while the tradition was observed. I guess it was an unwelcome surprise judging by my mothers reaction when I returned` with my golden locks shorn.

So, on to my Bar Mitzvah which starts with a controversy and a comedy of errors. A little research revealed that the portion of the Torah which I had to recite was Balak, the story of the speaking ass but not long ago I found to my astonishment that that portion was normally read a week after my 13th birthday and therefore my bar mitzvah premature and invalid. Moreover, my voice had broken to a croak. I studied my portion under the tutorship of Rev Koor. We practised in the kitchen of his house.

Our concentration being distracted by his frequent visits to the stove from which wafted the mouth watering aroma of chicken soup.

The question of the validity of my bar mitzvah was allayed when I was assured that it made it made no difference to my entitlement to be part of a minyan as long as I had had an aliyah at some time after the fiasco.

At the dress rehearsal for the great day my mind went a complete blank and I couldn’t remember a word. My actual discordant performance was somewhat drowned thankfully, by vocal accompaniment from some more musically accomplished members of the sparse congregation.

More chaos was finally created by showers of raisins and almonds from my excited kin in the gallery much to the chagrin of the gubba.

I was, in time, grateful for being given the wrong portion since the Haftorah from Micah contained the enlightened ethos “What does the Lord demand of thee ? To act justly, to love faithfulness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

A moral I have tried as best I could to follow through the long years of my life.