At the end of summer, I met a man at a community party pig roast. I might not have noticed him at all had he not been chanting a Hebrew blessing over the forbidden slab of meat just before he ate it. It was clear to me from his strange behavior that he had one foot in the secular world and the other in the religious. For the next several hours I listened as he told me his story. He was raised Chassidic. His . . .
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