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Judaism

Fiction

The Uncircumcised

Three months after his aging daughter Rhonda gave him a one-year-old poodle-Lab-golden-retriever mix to keep as a pet, Felder came to believe that the dog — who looked at him mournfully whenever he went to the bathroom and waited for him by the door, as still as a statue, until he came out — was in fact none other than the reincarnation of his sister, Esther, may her name be a blessing.

By Jennifer Anne Moses October 2015
Poetry

Freud, 1938, Vienna

Vienna, 1938, Freud, eighty-two. / Nazis and their allies parade in the streets, / flag after flag and those raised arms, / ceaseless enthusiasm and hatred of the Jews. 

By Lou Lipsitz June 2014
Poetry

At The Request Of The Organization For Jewish Prisoners

Three bearded rabbinical students in a rented car, / trunk filled with menorah kits and grape-juice bottles, / we pulled away from the all-male yeshiva in New Jersey / and headed west, into the heart of Pennsylvania, to celebrate / Chanukah with the Jewish inmates of Allenwood’s many prisons.

By Yehoshua November July 2013
The Dog-Eared Page

excerpted from
The Slaughterer

Yoineh Meir no longer slept at night. If he dozed off, he was immediately beset by nightmares. Cows assumed human shape, with beards and side locks, and skullcaps over their horns. Yoineh Meir would be slaughtering a calf, but it would turn into a girl.

By Isaac Bashevis Singer October 2012
The Sun Interview

Loving The Stranger

Rabbi Michael Lerner On The Folly Of Nationalism

The people who preach that “politics is the art of the possible” continually forget that we don’t know what’s possible; we find out by struggling for what’s desirable. Instead of listening to those who tell you to pick goals that can be achieved in the current political landscape, I say pick goals that will create the kind of world you want.

By Mark Leviton September 2012
Sy Safransky's Notebook

July 2012

History laughs as the wind lifts her skirts. It’s too late for modesty now.

By Sy Safransky July 2012
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Stateless

In the house where I grew up, the war never ended. All of us were infected with hatred. This was their real legacy. If my mother and grandmother had been pearl divers, I would be able to hold my breath for a very long time. But they were Holocaust survivors, so instead I have an infinite capacity for hatred.

By Dana Kletter December 2011
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

There’s No Such Thing As A Free Association

As children of a psychoanalyst, my brothers and I were brought up with three basic beliefs: everything has some deeper significance, there is no such thing as an accident, and never buy retail.

By Lad Tobin September 2010
Poetry

Cold Solace

When my mother died, / one of her honey cakes remained in the freezer.

By Anna Belle Kaufman September 2010
Poetry

What About God

The rabbi is coming to talk about the wedding. We lay out cookies, tamari almonds, stuffed grape leaves, hummus, crackers, and strips of sweet red peppers.

By Alison Luterman June 2010