Michael el Chayil

As I was reading through the verses of the rebuke at the end of parshas Ki Savo, I was struck by the irony of that after we hear this very disturbing rebuke -- with all it's gory details -- on Shabbos morning, we will then be treated to the sixth of the seven haftaros of consolation/condolence. Shouldn't someone have realized this could happen and planned for it? Oh... wait because of the way Chazal set up the Torah readings and haftaros, this will always  happen. That means that... this is supposed to happen?! Why? Hmm... upon further reflection, perhaps I do see the logic. Let me 'splain. Imagine a man in his late 30s; 38-ish, just for argument's sake. He's married, has three children (g 12, g 10, b 5), progressing nicely in his career as a software engineer at a major technical company; Motorola (before the internet happened...), for argument's sake. He has bronchitis, that just keeps hanging on. On third exam in as many weeks, the doctor decides to sta

I once saw one car make a left hand turn right in front of an oncoming car going straight through the intersection. (I was waiting to make a right turn at said intersection.) It was clear from my vantage point that the turner absolutely did not see the oncomer; not before his turn, nor even during his turn, and obviously not after. The oncomer, on the other hand, was (Thank Goodness) all too aware of the turner; it was only the quick reflexes of the oncomer that rendered the turners actions only annoying. I also so how angry the guiltless oncomer became... red in the face, pounding his steering wheel, and obviously screaming in rage. (No one can hear you scream in space nor behind closed windows of a car speeding now the street.) I try to remember how ludicrous and pointless that rage was whenever I feel myself getting angry. I have mixed success with that. However, I recently heard a shiur that gave me a new tool in my arsenal to avoid anger. The kohanim have a mitzvah to bless Kl

Long story short: I ended up at the "Rabbi's" table for a chasuna I attended recently. Waiting for the pictures to be finished and the dancing to start has never been more pleasurable. I don't want to be accused of just another name dropper, so I shall only mention that I was seated between two notable talmidei chachamim: R' Fuest, shlita, Dayan, Agudath Yisrael, Chicago; and R' Zucker, shlita, Rosh Kollel, Chicago Community Kollel. I mention them (besides to impress you), because of the fascinating discussion I had the opportunity to observe. (I shall not be writing "shlita" in what follows, but I thought it each time I wrote a name.) R' Zucker had gotten a question from a woman one erev Shabbos. She had somehow been very efficient that erev Shabbos and finished her preparations a bit early. She was thrilled to be able light candles like a mentsh without the usual rush and "on condition that I can still do the stuff I have to finish."

There is an old canard that women are disrespected, chas v'shalom, by Torah Judaism. That myth, much like the myth that Jews run the world (why, yes, I do  mean to compare those who espouse either), is fueled by hate and jealousy. Of course, to make it believable -- as that author of the greatest slaughter of Jews in modern times demonstrated -- one needs to add just a little bit of truth into the big lie. That is, bits of true statements/ideas taken out of context and woven into a false fabric of destructive lies. Am I being too subtle here? The truth in this case, is that women can not function as kosher witnesses in an official setting that requires two witnesses; such as in court, or at a chuppah, or on a halachically binding legal document. What they neglect to mention, of course, is that two brothers -- even the great Moshe Rabbeinu together with his exalted brother Aaron Kohein Gadol -- are also not valid as witnesses in those same situations. This is clearly not a case of

Here's a fact: Approximately 10% of dairy cows are treifos ((gleaned from the OU web article,  Milk from a Possibly Treif Cow ). Here's another fact: the milk from a treif animal is treif. One more: By strict Torah law, in a mixture of like kosher and non-kosher liquids, the non-kosher component is nullified by a simple majority. By rabbinic decree, though, we require the familiar nullification by one part in 60. Putting that together, we seem to come to the following obviously erroneous conclusion: Since 10% of dairy cows are treifos and milk from a treif cow is itself treif, and all or our large dairy farms mix milk from many cows in many herds, so the milk in any one bottle is composed of 90% kosher milk and 10% treif milk, since 10% is much higher than one in 60; conclusion: it is forbidden by rabbinic decree to drink any milk from a large dairy farm. How do I know that conclusion is  obviously  erroneous? Simply because the OU, OK, Star-K, CRC, and a whole slew of other

I am often accused of being over-analytical. Guilty. (I mean, maybe you don't care that there shouldn't have been any sound of X-Wing fighters hitting the outside of the death start because there is no medium in space to support sound waves .) I am also often accused of being overly precise. Guilty. (I mean, nothing can be "very unique" because the word "unique" means "one of a kind" and the only number less than one is zero, so "very unique" pretty much means "doesn't exist".) In any case, both traits -- analytical and precise -- come in very handy when applied to halacha in general,  and all the more so in monetary disputes . As discussed , two of the great tools for managing uncertainty of information in halacha are חזקה/presumption and רוב/majority. Once you are in the realm of uncertainty, you are certainly outside the realm of simplicity. For one thing, many cases of uncertainty have more than one kind of uncertainty

I remember in the naivete of my youth thinking how strange it is was that people were always complaining about how annoying people who claim to always be right are. After all, no one can be right all the time. I thought, "But it's easy to always be right. Just don't say anything unless you have all the facts." Of course, that is naive, but it turns out there are two reasons that plan can go sour. For one thing, because many find it hard to stick to that rule and it is  precisely  those people who are so annoying. The remediation for that is two fold: (1) train yourself to ignore those people, and (2) don't become one of those people. Both can be solved with serious study of M'silas Yesharim. The second fault with the naive view is, as one learns with experience, many of life's issues and challenges come with ineludible (great word, no?) uncertainties and nonetheless , an actionable decision is required. Halacha gives us two great tools for coping with th

If you don't regularly daven כותיקין, then I don't think I can really explain how it feels to wake up and see the sun shining through the window. Maybe its something like the feeling one would experience if he arrived to his own wedding a day late. Sure, there are things you can do to remediate, but you really have lost something that cannot be recovered. Even that is not quite the same, because -- as the saying goes -- "there are plenty of fish in the sea", but that תפילה כותיקין is forever lost. What is the remediation? As with any remediation, that תפילה כותיקין is lost, but there are a few levels of salvaging some shreds of communication with the Creator. First, as the Shulchan Aruch says (O.Ch. 89:1), the time for תפילה extends till 10:00 AM. (That is, the first third of the day.  For brevity, though, we'll henceforth call that 10:00AM, which is the time when you have a twelve hour day that begins at 6:00AM. Appropriate adjustments need to be made for other

I don't often get to hear an advanced Torah pilpul shiur. Those are the kind of shiurim that have enough mass appeal to be readily available on popular Torah shiur download sites. Moreover, most of time for shiurim is while riding my bicycle, which is most definitely a terrible time to get so involved in a topic that one loses track of his surroundings. I also don't often get to hear a shiur from a rosh kollel whom I have known since he was just starting to learn in kollel. (I experienced a pleasant bit of cognitive dissonance, in fact, when I heard him say, "one of they yungeleit asked me a question"; oh, right... the rosh kollel is no longer yungeleit.) Yesterday I to experience both at once. Since this particular rosh kollel davens vasikin, I was also able to clarify some points with him this morning. Here goes. Mistakes are mine; this is a case where one should most definitely blame the messenger. The daf yomi cycle is (apparently; yes, I am quite out of touch

There are two different kinds of בין אדם לחברו/interpersonal damage related to vision. One is called היזק ראיה/damaging sight, the other is, of course, עין הרע/The Evil Eye.  I say "of course", because I think that the term עין הרע is more well known than היזק ראיה. I never understood the difference -- nor even that there was  a difference -- between the two until I started learning Bava Basra. Bava Basra basically begins with a long discussion of היזק ראיה, which I kept mentally translating as עין הרע. I did that until I got to a commentary that said something like, "which is one of the way that היזק ראיה is different from עין הרע." Whoops. That realization led to enough cognitive dissonance that I was forced to re-examine what I had learned, and even go back to re-learn some of those gemaras. (Another in my long list of reasons why I don't learn Daf Yomi; I am not a linear learner.) For those who are as easily confused as I am, I present this high level overvi

The Torah includes a borrower as a kind of guardian. That is, the borrower accepts a certain level of responsibility to protect the object, including damage or loss that was beyond his control to prevent. There is, however, one gaping loophole in that responsibility: if it broke/died in normal use. In that case the borrower is off the hook completely. After all, he borrowed it to use and the lender lent him the object for normal use. I stress the phrase "normal use", because there are subtleties hidden there.  The rishonim give two different explanations of why the borrower should be exempt from paying in the case of damage not due to negligence that occurred during normal use. The one that rings a bit more straightforward to my 20th century, mechanistic world ears is simply that physical stuff wears out with use. That's just the way the world works. Therefore, when the lender lent the object for normal use, he was implicitly accepting that is might break. It is certain

We owe many categories of people a certain measure of כבוד. I shy away from using the usual translation of "respect", as the parameters of what we call כבוד go far beyond what the world considers "showing respect". Standing up for a parent or talmid chacham might be considered going above and beyond the call of duty by the world, but it is bread a butter כבוד. I don't believe that the idea of not contradicting them doesn't even enter in the world's mind. Include that showing כבוד means one that one is not allowed to even voice an imprimatur of their parent's or rebbi's words, and the world's eyes just glaze over. Nonetheless, that is all just bread and butter כבוד for us. On the other hand, walk into most Jewish homes and you will not find the children popping up even twice a day when their parents walk into the room. (There certainly are families who exemplify this trait quite beautifully and I feel fortunate to know them; they remain, tho

Pinion feather are the the wing feathers necessary for flight. Each species of bird has a distinctive number of pinion feathers; though all have at least nine. Crows (and ravens -- and many other birds, for that matter) have 10. Song sparrows have only nine. That makes the difference between a crow and a song sparrow simply a matter of a pinion. But seriously, folks... I reckon there are four categories of opinions, two of which have halachic consequences. Of the inconsequential opinions, there are two. First, there are stupid opinions. No, I don't mean things like, "In my opinion, there are no stupid questions." (Only uttered seriously by new teachers. Those of us who have taught for a while use that phrase only sarcastically and with much eye rolling.) That's not a stupid opinion, it's just naive. No, I mean folks who say things like, "In my opinion, the mathematical constant pi is exactly three." or "In my opinion, the whole moon landing thing

Fact: When a Jew acquires a metal or glass utensil from a non-Jew for the purpose of using that utensil for its intended purpose (as opposed to acquiring it to sell or as an object d'art, for example), then the utensil must be immersed in a kosher mikveh before it is used (even once). This is, of course, the mitzvah of טבילת כלים. Fact: A utensil that was originally owned (or made, which is an intense form of ownership) by a non-Jew that is acquired from a Jewish merchant also requires immersion in a kosher mikveh before first use. Fact: When someone buys a utensil to give as a gift, they have the same status as the store keeper regarding טבילת כלים. Namely, they have not acquired utensil to use for its intended purpose and therefore immersing it in a kosher mikveh would have no effect except to make it wet. If they were to make a bracha on that immersion it would incur the sin of reciting HaShem's name in vain. If they were to tell the recipient that the utensil has alread

I was once told (at a back yard BBQ with Israeli neighbors) that Arabic is the best language for poetry. Why? Because is has so many adjectives and so many fine distinctions/shades of meaning can be expressed. For example, my neighbor told me, the word that then "president" of the PLO was using for "peace" really meant, "I don't think I can beat you right now, so I'd like us to agree not to fight." Seems to me that Arabic would also be a wonderful language for marketing and statesmanship. That is, an excellent choice for avoiding saying what you mean in order to gain an advantage. Hebrew (classic Hebrew, anyway) also has ways to express many shades of meaning and intent, though they are all meant to make that meaning and intent as clear as possible.  Google gives the following translations of לְהַפְקִיר: abandon, give up, forsake, forfeit. I respectfully disagree. My issue is that those English words are all associated with feelings of being pass

This is the rule: Anything and everything in the Torah -- both written and  oral -- is relevant and necessary for me to live my everyday -- so to speak -- mundane life. I know that is the rule and I believe it. None the less, it is often feels like "decree of the King"; I am forbidden wear mixtures of wool and linen, forbidden to eat bacon, the ashes of the red heifer make one clean and the other impure, and every word and story in the Torah -- written and oral -- is relevant to my daily life. Take, for example, the medrash that the residents of the soon to be Eretz Yisrael spent the 40 years that Jews were "wandering" in the wilderness hiding their valuables in the walls of their houses. Later the Jews moved in and started normal life, including regular commerce and moving around. Houses would be sold and bought. It could be several dozens or even hundreds of years before the valuables were discovered in the walls. The question naturally arises, to whom does that

[PSA: I realize in retrospect that the first three paragraphs are mostly about showing off my b'kius in Monty Python and to lampoon the accountant profession. Both laudable goals, but you may wish to either fast forward past those, or stop reading after that. I try to be accommodating.] No unintentional offense to my friends who are accountants, but before davening at the vasikin minyan in Chicago, my feeling toward that profession had been best expressed by a Monty Python sketch about an accountant seeking career counseling: Well, er, yes Mr Anchovy, but you see your report here says that you are an extremely dull person. You see, our experts describe you as an appallingly dull fellow, unimaginative, timid, lacking in initiative, spineless, easily dominated, no sense of humour, tedious company and irrepressibly drab and awful. And whereas in most professions these would be considerable drawbacks, in chartered accountancy they are a positive boon. (For the rest, just Google &q

My research adviser was not at all careful to use the title "Doctor". He said that in all of his flying and theater going experience, never once had he heard announced, "Is there a physicist in the house? We have an emergency differential equation that needs to be solved!" I can add my 60 plus years of experience to that observation. But if someone did  have an emergency and need a differential equation solved (yeah, yeah, and if a frog did  have six shooters and a ten gallon hat), would I be able to charge for that service, if no fees were discussed on either side prior to the service being rendered? First, is this a question that halacha addresses? Answer: Yes, halacha covers all situations; the Torah is timeless. Ah... right... sure... so where does one go to determine the halacha in this situation? We often talk about the "fifth section of shuchan aruch", but it sure ain't הלכות משוואות דיפרנציאליות. Fortunately, this is really easy. It's a m

Rashi (explaining the mishna at the bottom of Shabbos 93b, and elucidated by yours truly here .) says that חי נושא אה עצמו/a living being carries itself means that a living being lightens itself. You may be (and, I daresay, should be ) asking yourself: What in the world does that mean? Perhaps you think it means "a living thing feels lighter... it can adjust itself and stuff." I respectfully submit that you should think again. First, Rashi does't say "makes itself feel lighter", but "makes itself lighter". Moreover, R' Moshe (Igros Moshe, O. Ch. IV, 90) explains that Rashi means that the כבדות/heaviness is less that expected for something of that משקל/weight and volume. Again, not "seems", just "is". You may argue that the "seems" is self-understood and obvious. I disagree; respectfully. Lastly, I think a mean-tempered cat (and what cat is not mean-tempered) is much  easier to carry when bound. But, wait, there'

In my youth, we all understood and knew that the Shabbat restrictions in the ancient world were an accommodation to how hard life was. Building a fire was hard without matches, after all. We also knew that the ancients did not know about trichinosis. They were also unable to notice that some shellfish were poisonous only in months that have an 'R' in them (or whatever the ancient equivalent was). Because of all that and more, we were able to conclude two things as obvious: (1) The smart Jewish nation (Jews have always been smart, you see)  banned work on Shabbat and eating pork and shellfish. (2) None of that is relevant today, so us modern and reformed Jews could gleefully life a life without restrictions while calling ourselves faithful to our religion. Then I grew up and learned that carrying even a key in your pocket is forbidden on Shabbos, the ancients knew how to cook meat well, and people who lived in the sea definitely knew many more details about the denizens of the

My kids have a joke about me. Scratch that; rewind. One of the jokes my kids have about me is this: When R' Fuerst learns some new, obscure halacha and thinks to himself, "Who would do this? I know! Michael will." Guilty. As proof, I offer the following incident that occurred just this last Pesach. Before Pesach I had been discussing some issue with R' Fuerst, in the midst of which the rav said: "A person like you should only eat hand matzah on Pesach." It was more or less out of the blue, so I was taken by surprise and didn't ask any clarification questions. Besides, it was easy enough; only money. We had a beautiful Pesach in Boca Raton and were invited to have the last s'duda with the rav, R' Noach Light, and his family. Wonderful. As the s'uda is tables are being set and the kids are all playing, I noticed only machine matzah on the table. I asked the rav about hand matzah and he said, "Funny thing; we ran of out hand matzah just

Our wax candles are certainly a כלי שמלאכתו לאיסור , and therefore may be used to decorate a birthday cake on Shabbos . Let's take a step back, though. Would it be better to use something else? Candy letters, for example, to spell out "Happy Birthday, Yenta Malkie." But maybe you like the "candle look"; so how about crayons? Candies seem safest. Edible food is not even considered מוּקצֶה at all; you can move it around just for the heck of it. That is even more lenient than כלי שמלאכתו להיתר/a utensil whose main function is for a any activity that is permitted on Shabbos, which can only be moved if there is some need. That need can be as light as saving the tool/utensil from being ruined or stolen, but some need is required. Food and Holy Scripture (including halacha and gemara, whether in Hebrew or English), though, can be moved for no reason at all; just for the sheer pleasure of moving it. On the other hand, using candy letters carry an inherent danger of

Consider the following two scenarios. First scenario: mother is suggesting many delicious dishes to get her three year old to eat something nutritious. Older brother throws in some helpful (in his mind) suggestions of his own. Mother to "helpful" older brother: "I don't need your help co-parenting." Second scenario: Mother walks into living room to find three year old gleefully coloring on wall and same helpful older brother is sitting on couch reading. Mother to "helpful" older brother (while running to grab crayons from three year old): "Aaargh! Why didn't you stop her?!" You can hear the older brother asking, "Sometimes you tell me not to get involved, sometimes you get mad at me for getting involved?! How I am supposed to know what to do?" Of course, I happen to know this particular older brother pretty well. Yes, he would say that (or words to that effect), but he knows exactly  what he is doing. Nonetheless, it's a f

As mentioned recently , I got an excellent lesson in the importance of keeping the fact of our eternal life in the forefront of consciousness. One thing that particularly struck me about that incident was my grandson's reason for usually not caring/taking glee in irritating his siblings; basically: why not? By the way, many years ago my daughter told me that -- as she was coming around a corner, but still out of their line of vision, though not out of earshot -- she heard that same grandson (three-ish, at the time) tell his older sister (four-ish): "Want to see mom get really mad?" She came around the corner just in time to see him upending a cup of orange juice on the table. I don't think he is much different that other boys in his actions; perhaps just a drop more self-aware/expressive. Moreover, I don't think this sentiment is unique to boys. Generally speaking, fear of punishment does not lead to improved character. It may lead to changes in behavior; though

My oldest grandchildren in Florida are now old enough for me to be comfortable taking them to play in the ocean. The beach is just about a mile from their house, so it is also a nice walk. Unfortunately, though, the mode of dress by most of the natives is less than modest. Early in the morning, though, is generally safe and quite beautiful. I offered to walk with the oldest three (g12, b11, b 8) to the beach right after I finished davening k'vasikin; as is my minhag, even when traveling. Their mother had two conditions: (1) they also had to daven before going. (2) if they woke their younger siblings, then the game was up and it was their responsibility to babysit. "Thank you! No problem!" we all said. The next morning, I woke them to daven when I did. They all davened beautifully and quietly. As you might imagine, it takes me a bit longer to daven then it takes them. That time period was my main concern: between their finish time and mine. I did what I could (I davened

One of the many pleasures of being a grandparent is doing homework with your grandchildren. After listening to my grandson's reading homework (he did amazing, thank you), we went outside to have supper (week before Pesach; you understand). After washing, he started drying his hands on his shirt. I told him that he shouldn't do that, because he doesn't want to forget his learning (Mishna Brura 158:45). His older brother burst out with, " That  explains why I have stains on my clothes and keep getting low grades!" He does  have stains on his clothes, he most certainly does not get low grades; so says the proud grandfather. I also thought it was right clever to turn a bit of mussar into a way to shed responsibility for his actions. They grow up so fast. But, really; who doesn't like shortcuts?  J. Pierrepont Finch had his book, " How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. " We have our  סגולות... don't we? Having trouble finding a shidduch