In the Jewish tradition, the summit of religious awareness is to know that God is ultimately unknowable.
Some certainly are—and, as an analysis of Orthodox voting patterns from the past five elections shows, this is a long-term trend. What does it mean, and where might it go from here?
Although it does not seem to be about romantic attachment at all, the tale of Ruth and Boaz is the quintessential example of a biblical love story.
It’s not enough to respond to anti-Israel attacks. To reach the young, pro-Israel activists need to focus on what Israel is, on its human face.
Different languages employ different methods of generating nicknames, but they all satisfy the same two needs: to show special affection and to demonstrate special intimacy.
What are we to make of the fiery images, stories, and rituals that inform Jewish liturgy and Jewish self-understanding?
Nishmat starts with the wide-open sky and the wings of eagles; it ends deep inside the recesses of the body, in our vital organs.
The story of Joseph sets up two archetypes: the righteous dreamer (Joseph) and the flawed but penitent sinner (his brother Judah). Both have a place in the tradition, but one is preferred.
There’s Greek oinos and Hebrew yayin, to say nothing of such farther-flung cognates as Swahili mvinyo and Maori waina. Is there a common root?
A new book by Daniel Gordis traces “one of the most extraordinary human stories of all time”—and makes clear that the story continues in similar fashion today.
A new book explains, and over-explains, why ultra-Orthodox authorities resort to Photoshop.
Last month I received two letters that brought back memories of a love story with the Holocaust as background but, for once, not with a tragic ending.
Created by an East European Jew disillusioned with Zionism and Hebrew, the language was meant to unite humanity in a spirit of brotherhood.
Friends, but never close, our paths intersected and then diverged, until this past September, when I connected with Leonard for the last time.