Hakirah (journal) - Foundation and Early Years

Foundation and Early Years

Harkirah is a Jewish journal which publishes articles that reflect a wide range of Orthodox beliefs and ideas. Those who submit articles run the gamut from laypeople, to rabbis, doctors and professors. The first volume of Hakirah was published in the fall of 2004. Each volume generally contains about ten English and two Hebrew articles comprising a total of about 250 pages. A new volume appears about every six to seven months.

Hakirah was created by a small group of individuals in Flatbush, New York who study together on Shabbos afternoon. Concerned about the lack of sophistication in Torah study and the excessive reliance on mysticism and kabbalah, it was the desire of the group to create a journal that would inspire the community toward a higher level of Torah study and analysis.

The early volumes of Hakirah relied mainly on articles by members of their original study group, Asher Benzion Buchman, David Guttmann, Sheldon Epstein, Yonah Wilamowsky and Heshey Zelcer. From about the third volume, however, Hakirah began to attract international attention whereupon Hakirah redefined its mission to include not just the Flatbush community but those who identified with the Flatbush Orthodox community.

Read more about this topic:  Hakirah (journal)

Famous quotes containing the words foundation, early and/or years:

    A full belly to the labourer was, in my opinion, the foundation of public morals and the only source of real public peace.
    William Cobbett (1762–1835)

    No two men see the world exactly alike, and different temperaments will apply in different ways a principle that they both acknowledge. The same man will, indeed, often see and judge the same things differently on different occasions: early convictions must give way to more mature ones. Nevertheless, may not the opinions that a man holds and expresses withstand all trials, if he only remains true to himself and others?
    Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe (1749–1832)

    The years seemed to stretch before her like the land: spring, summer, autumn, winter, spring; always the same patient fields, the patient little trees, the patient lives; always the same yearning; the same pulling at the chain—until the instinct to live had torn itself and bled and weakened for the last time, until the chain secured a dead woman, who might cautiously be released.
    Willa Cather (1873–1947)