Michael el Chayil

Catchy title, no? Now you have more insight into why I was a spectacular failure working for a marketing company. (I mean, besides  the fact that I consider marketing just the study of how to lie in the most efficient way to extract the most money from consumers. And, of course, I made no secret of my disdain while working for them.) On the other hand, I am quite good at mathematics. (No, not  arithmetic.. I have trouble balancing my checkbook.) How good am I at mathematics? Consider what is meant by a "continuous function." Basically it means a function (think line on a graph) that you can draw without lifting your pencil. You get it; no breaks or jumps. Of course, you could have a function that has some jumps/breaks; that would be called "piecewise continuous." So far, so good. I know (and can construct) a function that is continuous at only one point. Right... any point you choose except that one, to move from one point to the next would require lifting your penc...

There is a famous question, oft attributed to the Beis Yosef, but asked by others as well. The question goes like this: One may ask regarding Chanuka, since there was enough oil for one day, then why do we celebrate eight days of miracle? People adore this question. I have heard there is a book with over 100 answers. The problem for me is/was that the Gemara (Shabbos 23a) says (as Rashi so eloquently explains) that the miracle was that they lit oil from the jug all eight nights. The implication, then, is that the question is based on a mistake. How could the Beis Yosef ask that question when the gemara says straight out that it was eight days of miraculous oil? The wonderful thing about learning in a kollel is that I had lots of talmidei chachamim to whom I could address my question to get some insight into what I was missing. As the discussion went on, it was clear I had never seen the question inside. One of my chaverim said, "It sounds like it is time you saw it!" He found...

There is a famous expression (which generally means that it expresses some truth): "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." Which means that an object or situation isn't always loaded with deep, hidden meanings. It is certainly true that one must be on guard to not over-think/analyze how someone says -- or doesn't say -- "good morning". In fact, many arguments could be avoided by simply responding, "good morning" and then getting on with your life. That's mundane day to day life. In Torah, which gives us so few words about such great people and powerful events, we need to weigh and analyze each and every scenario. Particularly because the Torah narratives are about such big events, when small -- seemingly trivial -- details are mentioned, one must sit up and take notice. Why in the world does the Torah feel this detail is something that is critical for me to know for the perfection of my soul? For example, consider this great parasha question that ...

Avraham Avinu returned from what many regard as the most difficult of his 10 trials -- the binding and offering up of his beloved son, Yitzchak -- only to discover that his beloved wife had left this world. According to Rabeinu Yona, finding a place to bury Sarah was the 10th of Avraham Avinu's 10 trials. There is a lot to be said and understood about what Rabeinu Yona means, and you should definitely delve into that topic. Today, I would like to delve a bit into how Avraham Avinu began his negotiations for the only fitting burial place for Sarah, מערת המכפלה. Avraham Avinu begins his interaction/negotiation with the indigenous people with a simple, humble introduction: גר ותושב אנכי עמכם/I am a traveler from another land and I have settled among you. That translation is how Rashi explains the simple, surface meaning. As is usual, however, there is a deeper meaning to Avraham Avinu's message. Rashi brings a medrash that Avraham Avinu was telling them: If you like, in considerin...

So... I was at Binny's and they were having a wine tasting for kosher wines. There were five bottles they were sampling. Cool. I was there early and they hadn't really started yet. I picked up a nice chardonnay and the nice lady asked me if I'd like a sample. Before I handed the bottle back to her, I noticed that the wine was not  מבושל/cooked. The nice lady certainly was a Binny's employee; she was also most certainly not Jewish. You know me, smooth, delicate, always knows the right thing to say. So I said, "Actually, if you pour this, then I can't drink it." "Oh, right! They told me there were a couple of wines that I couldn't pour. I forgot! Thank you." As I had arrived as they were still setting up, I was able to open the bottle and then pour myself a sample (and actually bought a bottle of it). Then a Jewish, whom I had met before and knew was Jewish, arrived and took over. I related the story, focusing on the non-mevushal aspect. Someon...

Anyone who has been married for more than a couple of days knows there are ups and downs in any relationship. Anyone who has been married for several decades knows that the different pressures we endure during different stages of our life -- first married, starting to have children, building a career while paying for tuitions and camp, empty nesting, even -- I have heard -- some people have to get used to the husband retiring. Even the best and strongest marriages have endured difficult times. In fact, just as any other area of growth, those challenges are precisely what contributed to the strength of the marriage. That being said, there are some challenges that still make us uncomfortable years later. We are overjoyed that we were able to remain strong, but the mistakes can still haunt us as we strive to never make those kinds of mistakes again. Our relationship with HaShem as His chosen nation is no different. We are living in galus now. Still His chosen nation, but still separating ...