Michael el Chayil

The only entities in this entire universe who are cuter and more precocious than my grandchildren are my children. (My son-in-laws don't actually believe, but they'll find out when they have their own grandchildren, בעזרת השם.) Nonetheless, I have learned that there are many people who do not recognize that truth, and they seem quite unwilling to be educated. As a consequence, I rarely share pictures of and stories about my grandchildren with my colleagues at work. Unless, of course, the cuteness and/or precociousness exhibited in the picture/video/incident is just so blatant that only the most boorish of human being could be immune and fail to recognize above stated truth. (Shockingly, I have run across such boors. Too bad for them.) Such as this one. My wife and I do our grocery shopping on Sunday mornings ( after  R' Fuerst's always fascinating Sunday morning shiur on contemporary halachic topics; archives at psak.org and also at Torah Anytime ; you're welcome)

As noted in a previous TftD , one must be careful about removing unwanted stuff ("shmutz") from a garment; the issues range from potential Torah prohibitions (such as מכה בפטיש/finishing touches and כיבוס/laundering) to the Rabbinic prohibition of עובדין דחול/mundane activities. This is almost an oversimplification, but the activity is usually permitted if the owner is not particularly  מקפיד/meticulous about the shmutz -- as demonstrated by his actions. And therein lies, as they say (and you better believe pun intended), the rub. The reason that seems like an oversimplification is that meaning of being מקפיד depends at least on the person himself, the potential violation, and  the context in which he is removing the shmutz. Lets take is slowly and one step at at time. I find it easiest to start where there is agreement and then work your way in. Everyone agrees that you are allowed to knock bread crumbs off your lap. Everyone likewise agrees that you are permitted to rem

When it is very cold in Chicago, the trains do not run as efficiently. Switches and doors freezing are distressingly not infrequent occurrences; leading to longer commute times. Since I don't commute by bicycle when I would have to ride home in the dark, I am therefore affected by those winter slow ups. Since I use the time on the train to learn, I see those slow ups as just one more benefit of commuting by train during the winter. I really appreciated the cold and delays one day when I had one of those extra long Biur Halacha's to learn; siman 302, syef 1, d.h. עלה. The siman is all about when and in what manner one is permitted to remove shmutz -- dust, water, hanging threads, etc -- from a garment on Shabbos. The reason for the prohibition ranges from עובדין דחול/weekday/mundane activities (which is a Rabbinic prohibition) to מכה בפטיש/finishing touches and כיבוס/laundering (both Torah prohibitions). Obviously with the stakes so high, it is important get this right; especi

Let's suppose you would like to bring someone closer to Torah observance. Nothing like a Shabbos experience, right? Problem is, of course, getting the estranged from Torah Jew to commit to an entire Shabbos. I mean... after having experienced the warmth and beauty of a Shabbos meal once or twice or... well, let's be honest, it could take 100s of experiences over several years to finally be ready to commit. So you start thinking and thinking.... well, my friend  is  driving all over the place on Shabbos anyway... while is he at my house, he certainly won't be driving or anything else to desecrate the Shabbos... I won't force him to drive to my house, but even if I straight up invite him to drive over, it is a  worst  transgressing a Rabbinic ordinance. What could be wrong? I mean, of course, besides the usual devastating consequences, as discussed in a previous TftD . (Which makes the question of "what could be wrong" about as insensitive as "Other than

A new rav found that two members of his orthodox congregation were driving to shul on Shabbos. He spoke to both of them and they both gave essentially the same answer: they didn't feel strong/healthy enough to confidently make the walk, and they surely were not going to miss t'fila b'tzibur just because of that! One was also in the first year of mourning for a parent, and since he had never missed saying kaddish on Shabbos, he certainly wasn't going to start now. During the conversations, the rav became absolutely convinced that the subtleties of transgressing a capital offense versus a darn nice thing would be lost on these congregants. Another approach was needed. The rav, after much thought, came to an ingenious solution: He found there was a non-Jew with a horse drawn carriage service. (We have them in downtown Chicago; quite romantic, I am told. I've never been in one and -- just fyi -- this story did not occur in Chicago.) Now, driving a carriage yourself is

As I have noted before in a  TftD , Chazal (T.B.  Megilla 14a ) tell us there were 1,200,000 prophets; 600,000 men and 600,000 women. On the other hand, we only have written prophecy from 55 of them (48 men and seven women). The reasons for that huge discrepancy have to with the nature and intent of prophecy, which is way outside scope for this TftD (but addressed in another,  Prophets and Prophecy -- What They Are, What They Aren't ). The one point I want from there is that anything that was directed to be written was to impart a message for all time. That is true of all of our Holy Writ, but particularly so for the חומש/Pentateuch itself. Just knowing that fact should definitely be a game changer for anyone learning parsha (which, of course, we all do; at least twice in Hebrew and once in a translation that incorporates the explanation of our Sages). Deriving practical lessons to apply to one's daily life is not, to say the least, always so straightforward. Sure, things lik

So here's the thing. The Torah says ( Sh'mos 16:18 ) that each day when they measured the מן they had collected -- whether one gathered a lot or gathered a little -- each person found precisely one עֹמֶר of מן; no more, no less. That's pretty interesting. It sort of begs the question: so why did any gather a lot? I mean, maybe the first day or week or even month; but, c'mon, who's not going to get the message? But that's not all. Chazal tell us ( Yoma 75a ) that the righteous found the מן on their doorstep (tent flap; whatever), the ordinary folk had to go out gathering, and the wicked needed to range even further. Clearly the biggest problem for the righteous was to refrain from snickering at their less righteous neighbors who did not get texted a pic of their מן sitting on their doorstep and neatly wrapped in dew from the delivery angel. (Though I guess even thinking about snickering might make them less than righteous; more evidence -- as if any were needed