Brotherly Love
Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, in the early afternoon, I visit my younger brother at his nursing home, a mile from my home in Providence, R.I.
Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, in the early afternoon, I visit my younger brother at his nursing home, a mile from my home in Providence, R.I.
Their subjects will range from anti-Semitism to baseball\’s Ted Williams, from the messianic era to Disney\’s \”The Lion King.\”
Somewhere in the middle of the Israeli import "Late Marriage," a 12-minute sex scene unfolds between the main characters.
Twice a year, the high tides of Judaism crash on the shores of the disenfranchised. The chill of fall and the early blooms in spring are two occasions when I seek refuge from the waves of not belonging.
It was Friday night in Shanghai, a major linchpin of the Jewish Diaspora, and folks from all over the world were dropping in to wish Rabbi Greenberg "Shabbat shalom."
A half-hour before services were scheduled to begin, the lobby of Shepherd of the Hills Church in Porter Ranch was packed with eager worshipers, with as many as 1,400 expected.
The big surprise of the holiday season, if you caught it, was Jerry Seinfeld\’s wedding.\nIt turns out the man whose television persona perfectly embodied men\’s fear of commitment was, in real life, simply waiting for the right Jewish woman. Once he found her, baddaboom, baddabing, you\’ve got a traditional Jewish wedding, chuppah, broken glass, the works. It\’s so traditional, the crabmeat canapes come out only after the rabbi leaves. They even saw to a kosher Jewish divorce for the once-married bride. Who knew television\’s darkest satirist was such a sentimental traditionalist offscreen?