David Hosley thinks a scene in which a group of devious Jews slash the throat of a young boy in a ritual slaughter to cull his blood for Passover matzah is not the type of thing that should be shown on television. Yitzhak Santis thinks it's exactly what we should be seeing.
You've heard of the nuclear family. But how about the deoxyribonucleic family? Thirty-seven years after Arthur Kornberg won the Nobel Prize in medicine, his eldest son, Roger, took home this year's prize in chemistry.
The Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS) announced this month that Eisen, 54, the chair of Stanford University's religious studies program, would become just the second nonrabbi to serve as the New York City seminary's chancellor and the first since 1940. He succeeds Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, who held the post for two decades.
Catholic publishing companies are putting out companion guides. And the Jewish community is ... well, no one knows quite what to think. That's because the film in question isn't Mel Gibson's "The Passion." It's "The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," the special-effects laden adaptation of British author C.S. Lewis' classic 1950 children's book.
Online searchers punching the word "Jew" into the Google search engine may be surprised at the results they get.
"The Rabbi and the Hit Man," by Arthur J. Magida (HarperCollins, $24.95).
If not for the legion of pederast priests unmasked like some gruesome ecclesiastical episode of "Scooby Doo," Rabbi Fred Neulander might have been a shoo-in for "most infamous religious figure of the past decade."
Now, it's a toss-up. So be it.
Yet after tearing through Arthur J. Magida's "The Rabbi and the Hit Man," the painstakingly detailed account of the rise and fall of Neulander, a philandering New Jersey rabbi who paid an assassin to bludgeon his wife to death in 1994, one can only lapse into a well-worn cliché. Truth is stranger than fiction.