by Claire Sufrin
Memoir of a former teenage atheist
In the pew of a suburban synagogue, a bored 13-year-old dressed for Rosh Hashanah in uncomfortable pantyhose and chafing heels observes a well-dressed crowd mumbling, standing and sitting at the commands of the rabbi at the front of the room. At the end of the service, this teenager declares she’s had enough: “I decided that Marx must have been right about opiates and, on that very same Day of Judgment, I declared myself an atheist.”