The definition of “god” is very personal and individual.. I feel like we’re all trying to connect with our god and losing our faith a little in these times
I am getting to really look forward to your posts Etgar. This is a terrific story - filled with love and pain. I loved the intro too, and the pic of you and your sibs. Thanks heaps, and sending you thought waves throughout this awful time.
I love this. And the story too. It gets to the heart of writing and loving someone in a way I knew but never thought of before. That faith is key. So beautiful.
This was a piece of eternal art; perhaps, because it can speak in different ways to different people, and in different ways to the same people, and in he same way to different people.
I found myself feeling endearment, frustration, contempt, awe, compassion, hope, depression, faith and no faith at all. I found myself wishing people either stopped praying and started paying attention, stopped praying and assuming there is a God, never mind - one that actually cares. I wished their constant praying would infect others to pray to whichever deity preached kindness - not vengeance, not dehumanizations, not misogyny, not punishment, not self-righteousness, not singularity ... and then we would be in a world where everyone was so busy praying they wouldn’t have time to contemplate how to kill each other - and in the most brutal of ways (because there is a difference, even if the result and the result of the result is the same). But then we would also be too busy to enjoy each other’s company, dance together in simcha of the purest forms (not the ones where humans dance at the impact of their brutality, their detachment from their humanity).
I think I am still too angry.
I am still to afraid ...
... mostly of those in “our” community and “theirs”, the ones who pray like they are owed something, like they don’t owe, like their prayer is better, more pure ... like their prayer is the only prayer, like their prayer, and not they themselves, can be a stand-in for their righteousness, that their prayer seems to inspire too many to use it not to experience unconditional love, the energy to always be building peace.
I’m just not there yet.
But sometimes I pray I will get there. But not through a human-contrived “omnipotent” being that demands complete adherence, that he (yes, “he”, because that is part of the problem; “he” was gendered by human men) can’t or doe not want to control or distract their hatreds.
I’m just not there yet.
I shall walk to the ocean and pray there. Or maybe, instead of pray, just listen to the breath of the ocean and try to match it.
Wow. This story has all the qualities I admire about your writing but in higher concentrations than ever. It pours out like a roller coaster ride, building momentum, keeping the reader wondering what’s next, defying expectations in its multiple twists and turns, and in the process touching upon intrinsic truth. I am not religious, but my perception of deep belief is now changed.
Etgar, we had a cupboard just like this one, in Munich, Germany, in pre-IKEA times — how come???
Eduard Bernstein again?
This is a fantastic post. I would add the silence. Silence is an excellent way to be intimate with someone, whether in their presence or at a distance
„Intention“ is great, and my friend Christian Enzensberger died the same way.
Thank you Etgar you really know it.
The definition of “god” is very personal and individual.. I feel like we’re all trying to connect with our god and losing our faith a little in these times
Thank you for the story 🙏🏼❤️
Beautiful story. Wonderfully informative author's note. Thank ❤️ you.
I read this at the time and loved it. Thank you, Etgar, and Jessica! 💜
I am getting to really look forward to your posts Etgar. This is a terrific story - filled with love and pain. I loved the intro too, and the pic of you and your sibs. Thanks heaps, and sending you thought waves throughout this awful time.
I love this. And the story too. It gets to the heart of writing and loving someone in a way I knew but never thought of before. That faith is key. So beautiful.
".... a bunch of starchy Brits"? What chutzpah! See me in my study after class, young man! :)
That story was well worth the wait since October 7. Wonderfully told, expertly translated. Indeed, a piece for this time.
Beautiful.
This was a piece of eternal art; perhaps, because it can speak in different ways to different people, and in different ways to the same people, and in he same way to different people.
I found myself feeling endearment, frustration, contempt, awe, compassion, hope, depression, faith and no faith at all. I found myself wishing people either stopped praying and started paying attention, stopped praying and assuming there is a God, never mind - one that actually cares. I wished their constant praying would infect others to pray to whichever deity preached kindness - not vengeance, not dehumanizations, not misogyny, not punishment, not self-righteousness, not singularity ... and then we would be in a world where everyone was so busy praying they wouldn’t have time to contemplate how to kill each other - and in the most brutal of ways (because there is a difference, even if the result and the result of the result is the same). But then we would also be too busy to enjoy each other’s company, dance together in simcha of the purest forms (not the ones where humans dance at the impact of their brutality, their detachment from their humanity).
I think I am still too angry.
I am still to afraid ...
... mostly of those in “our” community and “theirs”, the ones who pray like they are owed something, like they don’t owe, like their prayer is better, more pure ... like their prayer is the only prayer, like their prayer, and not they themselves, can be a stand-in for their righteousness, that their prayer seems to inspire too many to use it not to experience unconditional love, the energy to always be building peace.
I’m just not there yet.
But sometimes I pray I will get there. But not through a human-contrived “omnipotent” being that demands complete adherence, that he (yes, “he”, because that is part of the problem; “he” was gendered by human men) can’t or doe not want to control or distract their hatreds.
I’m just not there yet.
I shall walk to the ocean and pray there. Or maybe, instead of pray, just listen to the breath of the ocean and try to match it.
Toda, Etgar.
..just to say, Etgar, that your interviews and stories and posts help me more, than almost anything else out there.
They actually do. It's mind-blowing how much.
And if they help me-it makes me able to help someone else maybe.
Here's to prayers, in whataver shapes they come.
Yours very grateful,
Chen/ alias April
Toda! You’ve really made my day🌈
Wow. This story has all the qualities I admire about your writing but in higher concentrations than ever. It pours out like a roller coaster ride, building momentum, keeping the reader wondering what’s next, defying expectations in its multiple twists and turns, and in the process touching upon intrinsic truth. I am not religious, but my perception of deep belief is now changed.
אני ממש רוצה לקרוא את הסיפור בעברית
פירסמתי אותו בפייסבוק שלי בעברית 🐰
Thank God for Etgar Keret