Why I’m so happy to have joined the Limmud crowd
into account the thousands of people the festival is catering for, both figuratively and literally.
But perhaps even more impressive was the quality of the sessions on offer. I can’t speak for those I didn’t go to, of course — and with over 1,000 options over the course of the festival, there were bound to have been some duds among the diamonds. However, the sessions I attended, on topics including feminism, LGBT issues and Israeli politics, were well thought out and engaging, in each instance making me consider aspects of these issues in ways I had not thought of before.
The festival-goers, as I suspected, were a diverse crowd –—but I am not sure I had fully appreciated just how diverse they would be. Orthodox mingled with Masorti, Reform, Liberal and possibly other denominations I haven’t even heard of.
Men wearing kippot queued for lunch together with women wearing kippot and people who identify as non-binary also wearing kippot. Topics were debated not just during the sessions, but in the bars and dining areas. To my amusement, I happened to overhear a discussion by a group of people, sitting a metre away from me, about the pros and cons of the JC, completely oblivious to the fact that a journalist for the paper was sitting right next to them (I decided to remain anonymous and spare their blushes).
I came away from the festival with more knowledge than I had when I went in, and with the words of King Solomon from Proverbs ringing in my ears: “Its [the Torah’s] ways are pleasant, and all of its paths are peaceful”.
As we head into what is likely to be another difficult year, I will look back fondly at the few days I spent near Birmingham, where Jews of all stripes could come together in an atmosphere of mutual respect and harmony. Next December, I won’t be waiting for the JC to ask me to attend — I’ll be the first to volunteer.
Men wearing kippot queued for lunch with women wearing kippot’