Issue 504 | The Sun Magazine

December 2017

Readers Write

In The Middle

Exploring a cave, losing a sibling, seeking a lover

By Our Readers
One Nation, Indivisible

December 2017

Featuring Rabbi Michael Lerner, Barbara Kingsolver, Sister Helen Prejean, Sy Safransky, and more.

The Dog-Eared Page

The Gettysburg Address

Government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

By Abraham Lincoln
Quotations

Sunbeams

True prophets sometimes, false prophets always, have fanatical adherents.

Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach

The Sun Interview

Leaving The Faith

Ali A. Rizvi On Being An Atheist Muslim

“You can’t have freedom of religion without free speech. You have to protect all of it: the Bible and the Quran and my right to say, ‘These books are full of fairy tales.’ ”

By Caleb Powell
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

On (Not) Reading Anne Frank

The first time someone told me I looked like Anne Frank was also the first conversation I had about pubic hair. Now, of course it’s possible the two topics weren’t actually discussed back to back and my subconscious simply saw an opening one night while I was asleep and stitched the two memories together.

By Yael van der Wouden
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Wrong Imam

If we could have been inside his heart, if we could have been offered transportation from our Jerusalem to his heaven, this is what we might have absorbed: Abkar was not leading us in prayer. He was talking to God while we happened to be behind him, squeezed in so tightly we could hardly find places for our foreheads on flawless plush carpet.

By Haroon Moghul
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Mining The Lost Years

Even at the peak of my methamphetamine days, I would have had trouble talking for seven hours. I aim to please, however. A longing to please is both my weakness and my strength. It’s why I cook, why I write, why I take five years to get a sentence right, why I’m so goofily polite, why I reply to fan letters from prisoners.

By Poe Ballantine
Fiction

Believers

Now he’s here, and there had better be something holy in this darkness. So he puts his hands up and opens his eyes as wide as he can and says he has a message from God. Slowly everyone turns. They see a skinny kid who is not quite a man speaking words that are hard to unravel because of his accent.

By Kate Osterloh
Poetry

Selected Poems

from “To My Husband At The Beginning Of The Holy Month Of Ramadan” | Even though you no longer believe, you wake with me / before dawn. You prepare my breakfast: porridge, sliced banana, / a cup of tea, a glass of water.

By Kasia Clarke
Poetry

Stage Four

Now I believe in everything. / Aromatherapy: peppermint and sandalwood / and lavender and especially frankincense, / because, you know, the Three Wise Men. / Mindful breathing, I believe in that, too.

By Mick Cochrane