(See Cover)
It was Saturday. In Israel, the beaches were crowded, food was being cooked, and a modern government transacted business as usual, but in the house of Zvi Rabin-sohn, the Lord's day was being kept. In a sparsely furnished living room at Mikve Israel (an agricultural school near Tel Aviv), Zvi's son Solomon was reading aloud from the Bible; Zvi himself, a fragile old man with a flowing white beard, lay on a couch listening. Just then, a U.S. newsman came in to ask some questions about another member of the family....
To continue reading:
or
Log-In