A vast range of interpretive possibility makes religion both glorious and dangerous. September 11, 2001 clarified that for me, as it swept me up in a rare sense of communion with the larger world.
As I grew up, various unpleasant experiences pushed me dangerously close to anti-Semitic feelings. So can I condemn others who express similar impressions?
This world's logistics overwhelm me. Appointments, lunch dates: aaaah! But usually, I get by. Me being me, it all feels kind of mystical.
The old adage goes, “You can never go home again”. So when I've spent so much time on the road and finally walk through that door once again, what am I returning to, exactly?
Choices of all kinds fill our lives. Maybe they're meaningless; maybe they're everything. I tend towards an intermediate approach....
If kugel could talk, it might say Shema.
Somewhere in a midrash it describes how during the plague of darkness the darkness was so thick that the Egyptians were unable to move around. That’s how I feel, spiritually. I feel like the darkness is so thick that I cannot move an inch.
It’s never too early—or too late—to leave the madness behind.
There's a reason Thoreau got all inspired by nature.
