When I was studying for my PhD, a good friend (who wasn’t Jewish) and I used to talk about God. One day, my friend told me he had become a Christian. I thought that was a rash decision. He invited many of his friends to church, but I was the only one who came. I don’t even know why I went; perhaps it was because he was one of my closest friends and I wanted to honor that friendship. Perhaps I just wanted to understand why he had made such a choice.
Read MoreI was a scientist, an engineer. The only God I could bring myself to believe in was far too busy coordinating the clockwork of the cosmos to concern himself with me, and I saw little reason why I should concern myself with him. Faith in a God who actually cared would be intellectual suicide. Unless, of course, God was not who Spinoza and Einstein made him out to be.
Read MoreI was raised in a traditional Jewish home in Melbourne, Australia. My grandparents were killed in the Holocaust. Our family were founding members of the Moorabbin and Districts Hebrew Congregation, where I attended weekly until I was 19. I married a Jewish woman, but we were divorced. I married again to Priscillia, who is a Christian. In the early years of our marriage, I was quite comfortable with the differences between us.
Read MoreI grew up knowing I was Jewish, but not knowing much about what that meant. We celebrated one Jewish holiday, Chanukah, mainly so we had something festive to enjoy while everyone else was celebrating Christmas. I had no understanding of why we lit the Menorah or what it commemorated. In fact, I took no interest or pride in my Jewishness, because I was a child who always felt “different” and left out, and to me, being Jewish was one more thing that separated me from others.
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