Michael el Chayil

It is embarrassing how recently it is that I actually know where the second cup of wine goes in the seder. Of course when I am reading the haggadah I know where to pick it up and what to say. Until embarrassingly recently, though, I could not have recalled that information any other time.  Sigh... I can now, and that's when the problem started. A friend asked (in all innocence sort of) when I pick up the second cup. "At  לפיכך /declaration of saying how much we owe to HaShem on the heels of telling the story of leaving Egypt." "Do you hold it until  גאל ישראל , or do you put it down during  הלל ?" I can tell where this is going... but I forge ahead. I actually don't remember that detail, so we grab closest haggadah (Maxwell House, of course) and it says to put the cup down before  הלל  and then pick it up again for the bracha of  גאל ישראל . Of course, I know the next question: "Why? The Shulchan Aruch and Mishna Brura both say to pick it up at  לפיכ

They say a story about the Brisker Rav that I don't believe, but is certainly true. It seems, the story goes, that Brisker Rav was seen drinking tea in his living room during Sukkos one year. People were surprised (to say the least) and asked with shock, "The rav is known for being stringent in everything! Here, where the Shulchan Aruch praises  someone for not even drinking water outside the sukkah; how could the rav be drinking tea in his living room?" The Brisker Rav answered, "I have no idea where you got the idea that I am strive to be stringent! True, I am by nature nervous and therefore try to avoid a situation where even one authority would rule that it is forbidden. In this case, however, the Shulchan Aruch rules that it is permissible; so it is permissible." I don't believe it, because I just have trouble imagining the Brisker Rav just relaxing in his living room with a cup of tea. I absolutely believe, the other other hand, that he would give su

I saw this story some time ago, and just "happened" to run across it again this morning. While I usually shun סגולות, this story struck me; obviously because it involves Rav Hutner, but also because the Mishna Brura stresses the importance of saying אמן, יהא שמיה רבא out loud and with intense כוונה/intention. There are סגולות and there are סגולות. When a סגולה is also a הלכה, I'm all in. I would like to add another small story that I also find inspiring: Rav Shach was walking with a talmid one Shabbos on the border of Bnei Brak. Rav Shach asked the talmid if he knew why people were driving across the street (just outside of Bnei Brak). "Because they are not religious?", asked the talmid, taken aback by the question. "No," answered Rav Shach, "it is because  our  shmiras shabbos is lacking." No matter where we are holding; we can always make just a little more effort... ===================================== Text (lightly edited) from

A question was posed to me concerning a difficulty in reconciling Rashi in two places.  In Shmos 20:8, Rashi notes that שמור and זכור regarding Shabbos in the עשרת הדיברות/Ten Commandments were actually said as one. However, on Vayikra 1:10 (the first open space between parshios in sefer Vayikra), Rashi comments that the breaks in the written text indicate where Moshe Rabbeinu was given a break/breather to contemplate and process the lesson he had just learned from HaShem. How can there be breaks when everything was said on once? I first would like to note that the question is stronger than just asking about two conflicting medrashim. We know from מסורה/authentic tradition that medrashim do not need to all work together. Each medrash has a homiletical  message to deliver; the messages form one unified whole, but not necessarily the delivery vehicles. Rashi's job, though, is to weave statements from Chazal into a unified whole to understand a basic reading of the text. The ques

In my youth I wondered why people said, "You can't always be right."  I reasoned that if a person only said something when he had facts, and otherwise would either keep his mouth shut or say simply, "I don't know"; then he would always be right.  What's the problem?  I still more or less (more on the less in a moment) believe that, which is why I am terrible  at small talk. The "less" is that sometimes one is required to act with less that perfect information. (You would think that would be obvious, right? Sigh... I am a slow unlearner once I have an idea in my head.) Even more "less" is that sometimes one is called upon to render an opinion. While all of these TftDs represent, at some level, my opinion, this one is more than usual. I was reasonably strong in my assertion  that the proper bracha on Pringles® is (and always has been) בורא פרי האדמה. I also noted that there are those who disagree. I was asked by a good friend, "S

Spoiler alert: The correct bracha on Pringles® is (and always has been) בורא פרי האדמה/Who creates the fruit of the land; not  the more generic שהכל נהיה בדברו/by Whose word everything comes into being.  Yes, I know there are those who argue.  Some out of ignorance/misunderstanding; whose opinions I therefore disregard with extreme prejudice. (Ignorance has no place in halacha.) Others out of a difference in how to weigh the various factors; with whose opinion I respectfully disagree. We've already discussed how a food can lose it's unique bracha through cooking and/or repurposing it from a food to a beverage. This is another way: by grinding or pulverizing it into an unrecognizable mass. The Shulchan Aruch uses the example of making a paste out of dates (202:7).  The Shulchan Aruch says they do not lose their identity; בורא פרי העץ before eating and על העץ afterward. The Rema agrees that should  be the case, but is nervous for those who say the food looses its unique identi

When we read anthropomorphisms of HaShem in the Torah, we often add, "Of course, HaShem doesn't have a hand or a finger or a face... the Torah just uses those terms to help use appreciate some dimension of how HaShem is interacting with the world." What does that mean? R' Dessler (in his commentary on the Haggadah) notes that the Egyptian magicians saw the plagues as a manifestation of the finger of Elokim/G-d. We, on the other hand, saw the hand of HaShem. They referred to the interaction as mediated by a finger; whose finger? Elokim/G-d.  We referred to the interaction as mediated by the hand; whose hand? HaShem. It's very easy to just skim over those details while racing through "10 miracles in Egypt, so 50 at the sea... which is really 200, or really 250". That's for seder night when we need to keep the children interested and engaged. In truth, though, something quite wonderous has just been revealed to us. The title Elokim/G-d always refers

I was once asked (the asker meant the question entirely rhetorically): Why do I need to fear HaShem? I should just love Him. The asker's claim, based on his own reason and reputable sources, was that fear of HaShem is a "lower level" than love. His thought was to just skip the lower level (which he felt was beneath him) and go straight for love. Being a teenager, he was completely impervious to the argument that older and wiser people than himself had contemplated this issue for centuries and had come to the conclusion that fear is a prerequisite for love. Being that ignorance is easier to overcome than arrogance, I appreciated the argument, but did not have the tools to articulate why. First a bit of a puzzle from Chazal:  What is the greatness יום הכיפורים/Yom HaKippurim (Yom Kippur on the Hallmark calendar)?  It is a יום כ-פורים -- a day like  Purim!  At first (and second and third...) glance, there could not be any two holidays more different in nature and intent th