Michael el Chayil

Maybe you have already heard... I find myself having particular difficulty not repeating myself. 30 years cancer free, ביום הזה ממש/on this very day. This very day, Purim, 30 years ago, the doctor called me at 4:00-ish PM to tell me that I was cured of cancer. Every year since then I have made my first s'udah on Purim in the morning (which the Rema says is just fine, 695:2, smart guy), and it doubles as a סעודת הודיה/meal to give thanks to the Creator. Oh, you'd like the back story? In Oct/Nov of 1996, I visited the doctor because I had bronchitis. We only had one car at the time, and my daughter was also under the weather, so I went to our family practitioner to make things easier. She, the doctor, diagnosed me with bronchitis—which I routinely got that time of year in Chicago—and prescribed a course of antibiotics. Usually that did the trick, but this time the illness hung on. Before going back to that doctor, I mentioned to a chaver of mine that I was seeing a woman doctor, ...

Some time ago, I found this cool olive oil store that imported the oil in the original casks. You bought at much as you wanted and paid for that amount. They also sold bottles in which you could take your oil home. Two issues: (1) I had to double-check the reliability of the hechsher (the oils were infused). (2) Did I have to buy the bottles, tovel them, and then bring them back to get the oil? On the second issue, I spoke with R' Fuerst. We discussed a few options, but at the conclusion, the dayan decided that I didn't need to tovel the bottle at all. How does that work? They want to sell me olive oil, but they need to put it into a container for me to get it home. So I buy the oil and tell them which container I want them to put it in. As far as I am concerned, I am only buying oil. They charge me a fee for the bottle, but I am never really buying the bottle. The bottle is still owned by the goy when it is filled with oil, and the bottle is בטול/completely secondary to the oi...

On 18 Tammuz, 5785 (July 14, 2025 for us gringos), I was studying folio 98 in Masechta Shabbos about the קרשים/planks of the mishkan. I know the date because my rebbi, R' Dovid Siegel, shlita, told me that it is very easy to fool oneself into thinking you understand something when learning without a chavrusa. Therefore, my rebbi told me to write down any and all questions and/or impressions I have while learning to keep myself as honest as possible. (Ok, ok... writing down the date was my own OC idea.) In any case, the Gemara there discusses the precise shape of the  קרשים/planks  and how they were loaded on the two carts. The common translation of עצי שיטים is "Acacia wood." It was way more detail than I expected—but, hey, it's Chazal—so I spent quality time on it. It just happened (uh-huh) that they were replacing some old telephone poles in the neighborhood when I was learning that topic (thank you, HaShem), and I determined that each  קרש/plank  was abo...

I believe I am not the only one who sometimes feels like no matter how he tries, it just doesn't go. I know כִּ֤י שֶׁ֨בַע יִפּ֣וֹל צַדִּ֣יק וָקָ֑ם/A tzadik falls seven times and gets up Which means that part of the process of becoming a tzadik is to fall. I get that. But let's do a calculation. Fall twice a day, times six days per week (I got Shabbos off), times 52 weeks per year, times 30 years comes to a grand total of just under 20k tumbles, give or take. Even if math is not your strong suit, that is pretty clearly more than 7.  Falling over and over again, though, kinda sounds like just constantly stumbling, as described at the end of that same verse: וּ֜רְשָׁעִ֗ים יִכָּשְׁל֥וּ בְרָעָֽה/and the evildoers will stumble upon evil I once asked my rebbi about what to do about constantly being a failure. He looked at me (always a warning sign) and asked why I thought I was a failure. I explained the situation to him. He asked, "Are you still alive?" "Umm... yes; th...

For many years now (decades, actually... wow!), we have been getting together with close friends on Shabbos after the vasikin minyan to make kiddush, have a bite to eat—sometimes just pastries, chips, and stuff, sometimes a full-blown s'uda. In any case, the one who makes kiddush has always sat for the kiddush ceremony. One week, he stood. Why he did that, what our response was—and what it should have been (our halachic response, I mean... we were all a bit taken by surprise), what the different parts of the kiddush service are, and why people do different things are all, b'ezras HaShem, topics we'll cover in this TftD. Strap in. The kiddush ceremonies on Friday night and Shabbos are somewhat different. Friday night fulfills a Torah obligation and is beautified with Rabbinic enhancements. We start with a declaration/testimony that HaShem created the world in six and then capped it all off with Shabbos, aka וַיְכֻלּ֛וּ. We then proceed with the actual kiddush blessing, which...

In English we have the term "pregnant pause," which means a deliberate, often long, and sometimes uncomfortable moment of silence in speech, acting, or conversation that is "full of" meaning, significance, or anticipation. There are also dramatic and poignant pauses, which are typically shorter. All three techniques can be used to build suspense (pregnant), add emphasis to the point just made  (dramatic) , and/or encourage introspection and allow the matter to be internalized (poignant). They can each be used for any of those effects; I just indicated the most usual flavor of pause used in each situation... in my humble opinion. The ellipsis in the preceding sentence was meant to convey a poignant pause and encourage the reader to form their own thoughts on the topic. All this is to make the communication more engaging. <Feel free to fill in your own thoughts here while I make myself a cup of coffee.> It is also possible for a pause to turn into an interruptio...