Liel Leibovitz

Can you believe that Halbrand insulted Miriel, queen regent of Númenor, by saying she was either blind or an elf-lover? What about all the drama at Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor’s wedding? And how excited are you to meet Radovid, King Vizimir’s dastardly playboy of a brother? If you’ve . . . . Continue Reading »

One of the most spiritually meaningful journeys of my life involved the quest for a desperately needed cup of coffee. My wife and I were in Italy to attend a friend’s wedding, and because neither of us paid particular attention to small and insignificant details like itineraries or hotel checkout . . . . Continue Reading »

Late at night, after the dishes have all been cleared and the kids put to bed, most of my friends cast a quick, furtive look around to make sure no one’s watching, grab their phones, slide into bed, and indulge their wildest and most sensuous desires. No, they’re not looking at pornography. . . . . Continue Reading »

The most moving spiritual experience I’ve had in the past decade didn’t take place in the pews of my synagogue. It did not involve a rabbi, or reading from the Torah, and I wasn’t wearing my yarmulke or my prayer shawl. Instead, I was hunched over on a stationary bike in the dark, sweating . . . . Continue Reading »

Under R. R. Reno’s leadership, First Things has achieved the very difficult distinction of bringing timeless truths into conversation with contemporary preoccupations without compromising either. Continue Reading »

The multiverse is upon us! Everywhere you turn in popular culture these days, it seems like the world is not enough: From hit TV shows to blockbuster films, plot lines run through multiple parallel realities, a ­cosmic cornucopia that invites us to feast on “what-ifs” and “­if-thens.” . . . . Continue Reading »

These days, it seems, my friends fall into two groups: The Red Hots and the Blue Birds. The Red Hots are the angry sort. They stand, like fly fishermen, knee-deep in the torrent of news stories washing over us, angling for the latest catch to feed their appetite for outrage. They don’t just get . . . . Continue Reading »

Dizengoff Street, a tree-lined corridor of commerce and pleasure, is Tel Aviv’s main artery. Squint a little, and you could easily imagine that you’re standing not in sunbaked Israel, a short drive from the Gaza Strip, but in Barcelona, say, or Berlin, or Manhattan. Take a closer look, however, . . . . Continue Reading »

We Jews know death. Leaf through the Talmud, that treasure trove of rabbinic wisdom, lore, and law, and you’ll find the grim reaper loafing about on every other page, inspiring scores of intricate debates about what precisely we must do when faced with the Great Unfathomable. Judaism gives us no . . . . Continue Reading »

In 1947, the three most exciting Jews in American entertainment got together to plan their first collaboration. Jerome Robbins had struck Broadway box office gold with On the Town three years earlier. The same show proved that Leonard ­Bernstein was as skilled at writing a catchy tune as . . . . Continue Reading »