Michael el Chayil

This is just too, too delicious. Just a simple exchange between a gadol b'yisrael and his grandson -- also a talmid chacham of no small measure. There are now (as of this writing) four volumes of מסורת משה -- halachic questions and discussions between R' Moshe Feinstein, ztz''l, and a grandson, R' Mordechai Tendler. Each night, the introduction explains, R' Tendler would record discussions/questions/interesting exchanges he had had that day with his zeidy. There are, apparently, many years worth of notebooks. They were originally intended as simply notes for himself. At some point, though, several of the other grandsons/grandsons-in-law wanted to arrange and edit those notes into a sefer. They consulted with R' Dovid Feinstein, ztz''l and he told them that he thought it would be a wonderful idea -- on one condition: They needed to have R' Shmuel Fuerst, shilta, review everything before it was published. R' Fuerst agreed and makes sure that al

I urge you in all seriousness to listen and/or watch the shiur (available on TorahAnytime.org) entitled:  Driving Halacha & Hashkafa; given by R' Shraga Kallus. Doesn't sound so interesting? Let me motivate you. Let's start back a few years ago, when R' Fuerst was still giving his Monday night shiurim to בעל הבתים/non-rabaim/regular Joes. We had just learned that one may not turn over a Jew to the government authorities if said authority would impose a harsher punishment than the Torah. To do so is a horrendous crime and the perpetrator is known as a מוֹסֵר and/or מַלשִׁין -- an informer. Klal Yisrael has suffered terribly  from informants throughout this long, bitter diaspora. So much so, that their deeds engendered the one addition to our shmone esrei prayer; an entire dedicated to their eradication. Imagine our shock, therefore, when R' Fuerst further informed us that it is an obligation to call the police if you see a Jew speeding through our neighborhood an

There is a well known dictum in Jewish law -- דינא דמלכותא דינא/the law of the land is the law. According to Shmuel this is a Torah directive; but everyone agrees that at the very least, דינא דמלכותא דינא. There are two important caveats, though: It cannot be a law that contradicts halacha. (Yes, I know that is a bit circular, since I just said that  דינא דמלכותא דינא is halacha. Don't make me come over there and slap you; you know what I mean.) It has to make sense; not something arbitrary, like eating fish on Friday. The implications are enormous -- it means that if the land has a rule that makes sense and is not otherwise covered by halacha (there; happy?), then violating that law becomes a violation of halacha; perhaps even a Torah violation. For example: the law of the land (in the US) is that you much drive on the right hand side of the road. Another one: while driving a motor vehicle, you must stop before the intersection when the signal is red, and you may not proceed thro

The most difficult day of the year (I believe there is no argument about this) is the ninth of Av. Bad enough the fast and and all the historical disasters associated with this day. There is more: On verse four of chapter three of Koheles -- ...a time to cry, a time to rejoice... -- Rashi comments on "a time to cry": this is Tisha b'Av. Not "such as Tisha b'Av", but, "this is Tisha b'Av." We are so lost in sorrow that we don't even greet each other. At the last meal before the fast -- even if we sit together -- there is no zimun. Tisha b'Av is all loneliness and sorrow. At the other end of the emotional and philosophical spectrum -- and nearly as far away in the year a can be -- is our seder. Pesach is the holiday when no Jew is alone. More than any other festival -- men, women, and children are all together. Special songs that are particularly fun for the children are placed at the end of the seder. We all spend weeks in preparation f

Historical note for context: This event happened in 2020, just as shuls were starting to open for socially distant and masked davening.   When we first started "sheltering in" (nice, parve term for trying not to die and take others with us during this pandemic), I brought my shtender home. I literally cried as I walked with it out of the beis medrash that I had called home nearly every morning for three hours of davening, learning, and imbibing the ru'ach of the camaraderie of those whose sole focus is to daven in the best way possible. Then came the time, Baruch HaShem, to return to davening together in my beloved beis medrash. (Lest you think the term "beloved" is overly dramatic, please note that I have davened there every morning that I am in town -- save a few weeks during chemotherapy and one Shabbos when I overslept -- since parshas Sh'lach of 1994. I have spent as many waking/productive hours there and nearly any other location.) One problem -- my w

...and, honestly, what is so special about אִסְרוּ חַג anyway ; isn't just the day after the Yom Tov?! Here's the back story: Of course I know that we don't say tachanun from Rosh Chodesh Sivan until after Shavuos; the Rema says so right there in 494:3 (see Mishna Brura there for more explanation). The question is, of course: why not? Obviously we don't say tachanun on Rosh Chodesh Sivan; we never say tachanun on any rosh chodesh.. Natch for the two days of Shavuos itself. Then there is the three days before Shavuos when we are all busy preparing to receive the Torah, know as (appropriately enough) שלושת ימי הגבלה . That leaves the day after Rosh Chodesh Sivan... why don't we say tachanun then? So I approached a good friend, a talmid  chacham with whom I have had the merit to discuss many interesting halachic issues. I presented my case and asked, "Why don't we say tachanun on the day after Rosh Chodesh Sivan?" I was not disappointed. He replied wit

R' Ezriel Cziment gives an incredible chumash shiur on Thursday nights; there is a dial in number and also a WhatApp group to which the shiur is posted. Listening to the shiur Friday morning has become a fixed part of my schedule. The shiur is 30 minutes, delves into one or two topics from the parsha and develops a whole new understanding of those topics. Also, R' Cziment always includes illustrative stories, making them great for the Shabbos table. (Let me know if you want the dial-in information or to be included in the WhatsApp distribution.) In the shir on parshas Shlach, R' Cziment brought a story from the sefer Meishiv Nefesh, written some 500 years ago, give or take. The author of that sefer needed to see the local ruler about some pressing issue. It seems that in that country, Jews were required to wear some sort of badge identifying themselves as such. While the Meishiv Nefesh was waiting for his audience, a priest walked over to him and said, "Do you know why

Sweet smelling spices have a starring role in the havdala ceremony. True, if you do not have spices, you can still fulfill your halachic obligations via a vis the havdala ceremony; but you'd miss them. After all, they rejuvenate us after the departure of our נשמה יתירה/"extra soul". (Interestingly, Google translates נשמה יתירה as "excessive soul"... how can soul be excessive?!)  The reason I keep using the term "havdala ceremony" is because I want to go through each step, which includes the bracha at the end. It is that bracha that is actually called "havadala"; it is the reason for the ceremony, so we commonly just call the entire ceremony havdala. That is similar to the fact that we call the kiddush ceremony simply "kiddush", even though the ceremony includes a bracha on wine. Interestingly, that is also why we call the bread we eat on Shabbos "challah". The custom, as brought by the Rema in Shulchan Aruch, was to specif