Michael el Chayil

I endeavor to make a siyum every year on my anniversary/birthday. Last year I made a siyum on Nedarim, leaving just Nazir and Sotah to complete Seder Nashim (of gemara). That  meant that I would be making a siyum on Seder Nashim for my 50th wedding anniversary. Cool, no? As it turns out, though, I have actually made progress in my learning skills and/or I have retired, so I have more time to learn in the mornings. In any case, I now learn two or three daf a week instead of one. That  means that I can be m'sayim Seder Nashim this year, בעזרת השם, on our 49th wedding anniversary. (I don't feel the coolness of making the siyum on year 50 would justify delaying; besides, I concocted a justification.) That  meant, though, that I had to find another date to sponsor kiddush at our Vasikin Minyan for the siyum. This is my morning seder at Brisk. I learn before davening in the winter and after davening in the summer, so I like to make the siyum there. Also, it is where my wif...

Yes, I know very well that I have not written in quite some time. A discovery we made while cleaning out my mother-in-law's apartment seems a very fitting topic for my re-entry. After days and hours of sorting through boxes of documents and pictures, we were rewarded with two notable treasures: (1) a pair of diamond studs that had been presumed lost. (2) my mother-in-law's bas mitzvah speech. In truth, the value of the diamond studs pales in comparison to the speech find, but we had talked about those diamond studs for weeks (in fact, my mother-in-law, a"h, had also been bothered by their loss). The speech (and picture of her from that day!) solidified and deepened our appreciation for how much we owe to my mother-in-law, ברכה פייגא בת יעקב, ע''ה, A few years ago, I read a powerful משל/allegory in the Passover haggadah from R' Matisyahu Salomon. There was a bloke who wanted to know what it felt like to get the royal treatment. He hatched a plan to dupe a remote...

My mother was 20 when I was born, and she passed away at 69. Do the math; I knew her for 69 years—though one could argue that the first year or two, at least, can hardly be counted as knowing someone. I met my wife on Oct 30, 1977; I was 19. We became engaged on Dec 17. Of course I had met my future in-laws before Dec 17, but after that I was invited to family dinner every Sunday. I will, בעזרת השם, turn 69 this year. Do the math; I knew my mother-in-law for 69 years—all of which (except that last 18 hours or so of her life) were unarguably time of full awareness to know someone. I am as qualified as any, and more than most, to give you an honest perspective on a life well lived. Since my mother-in-law's funeral was during Nissan, there were no eulogies. That is, speeches designed to bring the listeners to tears. I told those assembled that our tears are a comfort to the soul of the departed, as they can feel that they made a difference in this world. In this month, whose name mean...

As you may know, Pesach is less than 30 days away. You know that either because (1) we are past Purim and Pesach is always 30 days after Purim, or (2) the most oft-heard phrase in your home is, "Aaaagh!!! Pesach is less than a month away!!! Aaaagh!!" (Number of exclamation points is based on estimates by someone who no longer has children at home. Your level of stress and urgency may vary.) You would think that the oven, which has been filled with hot chameitz all year and now needs to be a completely chametz-free zone, would be a  huge  stress point. Nope. Preparing the oven nowadays is an eerily calm island in a sea of frustration. That is because the very same heat that created the problem can now be used to solve it. The basic rule is the way the chameitz went in is how we take it out. Of course, since it is Pesach, we are way stringent. Besides that, we like to destroy the chameitz instead of just removing it (which has its own disposal and contamination issues; not ...

Now that we know what bracha to make on non-kosher food, as detailed in this TftD , we are ready to address the original-ish question. (It is only "-ish" because that question was about water, which gets a resounding "no," but the question of using non-kosher wine is still open.) But, first, a joke. A Jew is meeting with a non-Jew at the non-Jew's house while the non-Jew is having a snack of ham and wine. (The reaons for the meeting and why at the house of the non-Jew and why the non-Jew choose this moment to eat are all beyond the scope of this joke.) The non-Jew is cordial and offers the Jew some ham. "No thank you. We only eat kosher food." The non-Jew is a bit surprised (again, outside the scope of this joke), but still wants to be a good host. "Well, may I at least offer you some wine, then?" The Jew replies that we drink kosher wine. Now then non-Jew cannot contain himself, "So if there was only non-kosher food and wine available, ...

The discussion started with, "If one of the hostages in the tunnels found some water, could he use that to make kiddush?" The answer to that question is a definitive "No." You just can't make kiddush on water (Shulchan Aruch 272:9). The Mishna Brura refers us to 296:2, sk 10, and notes that you also may not use water for havdala, and that is true even if the primary beverage in your country is water; it is just not considered prestigious enough to use for kiddush. Even crazy expensive—apparently there are "extreme luxury" waters that go for more than 10k$ for a rivi'is—still can't use it to make kiddush. Okay... but all this got me thinking... what exactly are the rules regarding eating non-kosher food when one is in danger of dying without eating that food? When I started, I was pretty sure that one would not make kiddush using non-kosher wine. Using non-kosher wine or food just didn't seem appropriate for kiddush. I also wondered what bra...