Author Archives: circusmark88

The “Jesus Boat”

Senior Editor Mandy Katz reports from Israel in her fourth blog post:

Never mind Warren Buffett. If you need proof Israel is a creative, culturally dynamic, technologically advanced economy, there’s a 2,000-year-old boat I’d like you to see up in the Galilee.

The “Jesus Boat” is actually just the 28-foot-long keel and partial hull of a wooden fishing craft. Its crew of local Jews would have used it to troll the inland sea for St. Peter’s fish and other species. But it either sank or was abandoned about two millenia ago. Its remains were preserved in the mud bottom until a drought in 1986, when two kibbutzniks from nearby Ginosar noticed an odd shape in the exposed lake bed.

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Moment Presidential Poll Round-Up

Thank you again to everyone who voted in our Moment Presidential Poll these past few weeks. We have received many votes and submissions, and we are so very pleased.

Voting will continue for a little while longer. So, if you still haven’t voted and you’d like to have your voice heard, please submit your answers to by Thursday July 31 at 5:00 pm.

And remember, look for the results and possibly your vote in Moment‘s October/November issue.

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Thank you and please continue to vote!

In the past couple of weeks we have received a mountain of votes! Thank you to all our readers for taking part in this Moment Presidential Poll.

Please continue voting by sending an email to

A couple of sites have already linked to the poll, including the National Jewish Democratic Council’s blog.
-Mark Abramson

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A visitor to Jerusalem shares his experiences

From the Moment Archives: June, 1998-A Visitor to Jerusalem shares his experiences:

Night Musing in Jerusalem
The Peculiar Weight of Being a Jew
by P. David Hornik

JERUSALEM. The word evokes holiness, history; donkeys, dust, alleys, markets. But not to me—not anymore. Jerusalem is what’s outside my window: a summer dusk, the voices of a leafy, peaceful street. The sense, too, of a vibrant city awakening—meaning the “New City,” whose downtown section is fifteen minutes by bus from where I live in the northern neighborhood of French Hill. Now that I’m free and footloose, I could go there; the question arises every evening. It means venturing out, alone, into the “night life”—the sea of animated faces at the outdoor cafes, or, if I wanted to be braver, the bars of Nahalat Shiva Street and the Russian Compound, which start to fill up at about eleven and stay open all night.

But as for the myth- and history-laden Old City, I haven’t been in it, by day or night, in years, and the thought doesn’t occur to me.

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