By Gavriel (@huniarch), Descendant and Witness
Amarillo, Texas – February 04, 2026
Dedicated to Rabbi Stephen Leon of El Paso, Texas—a visionary rabbi whose tireless work over six decades has illuminated the paths of countless anusim back to their Jewish souls. As a possible descendant of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, the revered author of the Zohar, Rabbi Leon embodies the mystical light of Kabbalah in action.
He saw my own Jewish neshamah when others did not, loving me as a son of the daughter of a Kohen, and affirming Hashem’s unbreakable promises. Through his guidance, I stand as a witness to the world that the covenant endures, as true today as in Jeremiah 31: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.” Rabbi Leon, your legacy shines eternal—thank you for being the bridge between hidden pasts and revealed futures.
Cristobal Colon—known to the world as Christopher Columbus—
In the quiet corners of history, where shadows of the Inquisition linger, and the flames of forced conversions still flicker in memory, a profound truth has emerged from the dust of centuries: Cristobal Colon—known to the world as Christopher Columbus—was one of us. A Sephardic Jew, hiding in plain sight, navigating not just oceans but the treacherous waters of survival.
For generations, the world insisted he was everything else: a Catholic Italian, a devout Christian explorer, a Genoese merchant. Anything but Jewish. But DNA has spoken, louder than any decree or denial. And as a descendant—yes, my cousin through the tangled vines of our shared Sephardic roots—I stand here today, alive and unyielding, to bear witness to our eternal covenant with Hashem.
This blog is more than a recounting of facts; it’s a letter across time. To Cristobal, my cousin from the shadows of 1492. To Professor Dennis Otero, my living cousin in Albuquerque, New Mexico, whose email to me—a tapestry of research, family lore, and unshakeable faith—sparked this reflection. And to all the hidden ones who converted on paper but never in their hearts, or who endured everything to remain openly Jewish.
Thank you. Your resilience echoes in my veins, in the Torah I cherish, and in the land of Israel that calls us home, as promised in Jeremiah 31: “Thus says the Lord: ‘The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness; when Israel sought for rest, the Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.'”
The Hidden Navigator: Cristobal Colon’s Sephardic Secret
Let us journey back to 1492, the year Spain’s Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, issued the Alhambra Decree, expelling Jews from their ancestral home. Amid this storm of persecution, Cristobal Colon set sail from Palos de la Frontera on August 3—the day after Tisha B’Av, our day of mourning for the Temples’ destruction. Coincidence? Or a deliberate echo of exile?
For centuries, historians painted him as an Italian Catholic, born in Genoa around 1451, a man whose voyages were divinely inspired by Christian zeal. But whispers persisted: his cryptic signatures, his references to the Hebrew calendar, his avoidance of pork, and letters laced with biblical allusions.
A Groundbreaking DNA Study
Now, in 2024, science has lifted the veil. A groundbreaking DNA study led by forensic scientist José Antonio Lorente at the University of Granada analyzed bone fragments from the Seville Cathedral—long believed to hold Columbus’s remains—and compared them with those of his son, Hernando de Colón, and his brother, Diego. The results? Traits in both the Y-chromosome (paternal line) and mitochondrial DNA (maternal line) are “compatible with Jewish origin,” specifically Sephardic.
Lorente’s team concluded Colon was not Italian but from Western Europe, likely the Crown of Aragon in Spain—perhaps Valencia—where Sephardic communities thrived before the Inquisition’s grip tightened. He concealed his identity, converting outwardly to Catholicism (a “converso” or “anusim”) to evade the flames, much like countless ancestors who whispered the Shema in secret while attending Mass.
This revelation, announced in the Spanish documentary Colon ADN: Su verdadero origen (Columbus DNA: His True Origin), shatters the old narratives. No more Genoese merchant; instead, a Sephardic Jew fleeing the same edict that scattered our people. Critics note the study awaits peer review, and historical documents still point to Genoa, but the DNA markers align with Sephardic patterns: Levantine and Iberian Jewish haplogroups that trace back to ancient Israel. As one historian put it, “The genetic evidence is a puzzle piece that fits the hidden Jewish mosaic.”
Weaving My Story: From Inquisition Shadows to New Mexico Sunlight, Guided by Rabbi Leon
As I read Dennis’s email—detailing our family’s crypto-Jewish practices in New Mexico, from the Lucero de Godoy lineage (our shared ancestor with Colon through Sephardic migrations) to the hidden menorahs and Sabbath candles lit in cellars—I felt the threads pull taut. Dennis, a professor at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, has dedicated his life to uncovering these buried truths.
His words: “Gavriel, our bloodline isn’t just survival; it’s testimony. From Colon’s sails to our Torah scrolls, we’re Hashem’s witnesses.” How fitting that a descendant of those who fled Spain’s pyres now teaches in the land where conversos found refuge in the 1500s, blending with Pueblo peoples while guarding their embers.
A Profound Debt to Rabbi Stephen Leon
But my own reclamation owes a profound debt to Rabbi Stephen Leon, the emeritus rabbi of Congregation B’nai Zion in El Paso, Texas. Over the past 60 years—beginning in the 1960s with his early rabbinic work and intensifying upon his arrival in El Paso in 1986—Rabbi Leon has been a beacon for the anusim of the Southwest. He encountered the phenomenon almost immediately:
In his first week at B’nai Zion, three separate incidents revealed hidden Jewish practices among local Hispanic families—lighting candles on Friday nights, avoiding pork, or burying the dead with stones on graves. This sparked a lifelong mission: Studying, teaching, and welcoming back those whose ancestors were forced to convert during the Inquisition but preserved fragments of Judaism in secret.
Rabbi Leon’s Legacy
Rabbi Leon’s work is legendary. He founded the annual Sephardic Anusim Conference in 2004, now in its 22nd year as of 2026, drawing scholars, descendants, and rabbis to explore crypto-Jewish heritage. In 1999, with a grant from the El Paso Community Foundation, he traveled to Europe—visiting sites like Belmonte, Portugal, where 300 crypto-Jews formally returned to Judaism—gathering insights that informed his outreach.
He has converted over 70 families through his beit din, helping them reclaim their neshamot with sensitivity and halachic rigor. His teaching at the University of Texas at El Paso, appearances on NPR and local TV, and articles in outlets such as the El Paso Times and Paterson News have educated thousands. His 2013 memoir, The Third Commandment and the Return of the Anusim: A Rabbi’s Memoir of an Incredible People, stands as a testament to religious tenacity, available on Amazon and still inspiring returns today.
Rabbi Leon Is Still Teaching
Even in retirement since 2018, Rabbi Leon continues undimmed: Speaking on radio shows (as in 2023’s El Paso History segment on crypto-Jews), contributing to documentaries like those on JTA and KPBS, and consulting via email (rabbisal@aol.com). He estimates 10-20% of El Paso’s non-Jewish population has Sephardic roots, a statistic born from decades of personal stories. As a believed descendant of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai—the 2nd-century sage to whom the Zohar is ascribed—Rabbi Leon’s work radiates Kabbalistic depth, revealing hidden sparks in souls long obscured.
The GrandSon Of A Kohen
For me, Rabbi Leon was more than a guide; he recognized my Jewish soul when I, the son of the daughter of a Kohen, sought answers. My uncle’s FamilyTreeDNA results confirm it: A perfect match to the Kohen Modal Haplotype (J-FT235823), tracing our HaLevi line—priests within the Levites—back to ancient Israel. As a maternal grandson of a Kohen, I inherit no Y-DNA, but I do inherit the spiritual mantle.
Undeniable. Rabbi Leon affirmed this: Hashem’s promises are true, from the priestly blessings in Numbers 6 to Jeremiah’s eternal love. In a world that once erased our identities—like insisting that Colon was Christian—I witness that Yeshua is not the Mashiach. Our love for Torah and Eretz Yisrael endures, as long as the sun and moon shine.
Imagine a letter back through time: “Dear Cousin Cristobal, thank you for charting unknown seas when our world was closing in. Your hidden faith fueled your voyage, just as it fuels mine. In 2026, your descendants thrive—professors like Dennis, bloggers like me—proclaiming Hashem’s oneness. We honor the covenant: To be His witnesses, rejecting false messiahs, clinging to Torah amid exile’s storms.”
Honoring the Hidden and the Steadfast: A Grateful Tribute
To the greats of our Sephardic saga: The anusim who converted but never forgot—lighting candles in secret, whispering blessings over challah disguised as pan. Families like the Luceros, who fled to New Spain’s frontiers, intermarrying with indigenous lines while preserving the spark.
And to those who stayed openly Jewish: The communities in Thessaloniki, Amsterdam, and beyond, who rebuilt after expulsion. Your endurance is our inheritance. Rabbis like Isaac Abarbanel, who fled Spain yet kept the flame; scholars like Cecil Roth, who uncovered the crypto-Jews; and modern voices like Stanley Hordes, whose work on New Mexico’s hidden Jews echoes in Dennis’s research.
Special gratitude to Rabbi Stephen Leon, whose 60 years of devotion—from early pulpit days to post-retirement advocacy—have reunited souls with their heritage. As a Kohen’s grandson, I testify: Hashem’s promises hold. We reject the lure of assimilation and affirm that Yeshua is not the Mashiach. Our love for Torah and the land burns eternal, as Jeremiah promised.
Hashem’s witnesses, we sail on. Thank you, cousins, past and present. L’chaim—to the sun, moon, and unbreakable bond.
Hazan Gavriel ben David , forever a link in the chain.
