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The unity that Judaism is looking for is the point at which, without losing this brain, a corridor of correspondence is opened between this brain — the individual identity — and the transcendent identity. But it isn’t that I become annihilated and flow into the great river; it’s that I am maintained in a scale model relationship to the transcendent. I stay here, but I grow outward. I stay here, but I use my here only to be positioned onto there.
By Howard Jay RubinJune 1984These people have been compared to sand and stars. When they fall, they fall as low as the sand, and when they rise, they rise as high as the sky.
The Talmud
By Howard Jay RubinJune 1984The way to receive light from God is through praying. The only difference is that some people pray unconsciously, some pray consciously, some pray super-consciously. You can walk into a restaurant and see a person who says, “I’m so hungry. I need some soup.” Deep down his soul is praying to God, “God, please give me life, I’m at the end.”
By Howard Jay RubinNovember 1982That crumbling house with its rusty iron fence, like a disillusioned spider’s web, became important. Even its blotch of drained soil, discolored and long sterile, was a symbol of warfare. This spelled out a larger drama of the world I was just beginning to realize I was living in.
By Leslie Woolf HedleyMay 1982As I trudge up the road from the bus stop, I pause to catch my breath as well as the view. Before me loom towering white cliffs; beneath are the lush fields and orchards of the moshav, and beyond them is the Sea of Galilee or the Kinneret, as it is called in Hebrew, “the violin.” The curving road is lined with small stone houses; I had been told that Elyah’s was the last hut, on the highest slope.
By Leonard RogoffSeptember 1980Disappointments are exquisite clues to where you’re holding. And if you want to awaken, a disappointment becomes a great thing, so you get to love them as much as you hate them. They’re hurting you, and at the same moment they are awakening you to how you’re clinging.
By Sy SafranskyJune 1980Father put his arms around his ebullient brood. “Hush,” he soothed. “There is no wind and it is too dark to see. The kite will fly when it is ready. We shall go to bed and wait until it is right with the world.”
By Viola PruneMarch 1979Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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