Author: Moshe Taub

  • Rules and Advice For A Shiva Visit

    November, 2019

    This was one of the oddest news corrections I have ever seen.

    “Associated Press: FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — In a story Feb. 22 about the Florida school shooting, The Associated Press misquoted Broward County Sheriff Scott Israel in some versions of the story when he spoke about the families of the victims. He said, “I’ve been to their homes where they’re sitting shiva,” not “where they sit and shiver.”

    Well, ‘six by one and have dozen by the other’- as the latter (sit and shiver) often describes the inner turmoil of the former (he who sits shiva).

    Last week we shared some shiva stories, and expressed the gain each visitor can receive from any beis aveil.

    We ended with these words: “It is hard to pay a shiva call, but if done right one will not just comfort the mourner, but will become inspired and indeed learn the beauty found in every life. We just have to make sure to be careful how we pay a shiva call –the important do’s and don’t’s -something we will discuss next week”

    Several months ago a member of my shul lost a parent. Like always, our shul galvanized the troops and chesed committees to bring in aveilus chairs, visitor chairs, an arohn and sefer Torah– as well as plan and arrange meals for all the aveilim for the entire week and for the seudas haavrah.

    When shiva was over, this mourner called me. While he certainly wanted to express his hakaras hatov to the community for all their help, his main purpose was something else entirely.

    “Rabbi, you have to give a shiur, or something, on the halachos and etiquette of making a shiva call. A letter to the community, perhaps.”

    He went on to share horror stories from his week of shiva; from the insensitive comments to the foolish ones.

    I, as well as surely many readers, have witnessed such errors in a shiva home, no matter how good the intentions behind them were.

    As we get closer to Pesach, one example comes to mind from a dark and cold Pesach several years ago. As I have mentioned before in these pages, my wife’s younger brother, Nesanel a’h, was killed erev Pesach on his way to learn bein hazmanim.

    The levaya was arranged, and the entire shiva was brief-a few hours-and its seemed the entire city of Toronto streamed to my in laws that erev Shabbos/Pesach, and through some ness all managed to fit inside.

    Before the levaya I worked with one of my brother-in-laws on his hesped for his beloved brother.

    I shared with him a Ramban and his comments on a midrash that were apropos.

    Briefly, After the demise of Nadav and Avihu, their father, Aaron, had a reaction that has perplexed meforshim for centuries: ‘…vayidom aahron’ ‘…and Aaron was silent…’.

    Rashi (s.v. vayidom) points out that there was something unique, nay, exemplarily, about this silence of Aaron that merited reward. However, what was unique about his silence however, seems mysterious.

    Ramban, in a brief comment on this verse, gives two possible interpretations, both of which change entirely how this episode may have transpired. “For {Aaron} cried out loudly after which he was silent, or, {Vayidom} has the same meaning as in Eichah 2:18, to be still.”

    Aaron’s silence was not representative of his have nothing to say; on the contrary, it represented his holding back. Indeed, in a fascinating, if not spectacular midrash chazal teach us what Aaron’s grief could have brought him to say as well as the “questions” he could have, or may have, been tempted to ask the HaKadosh Baruch Hu (see Shallal Rav pg. 104 where this midrash is discussed at length).

    Instead, in a remarkable expression of faith, Aaron became still, passive, inanimate –Domeim.

    Keep the above in mind, as it plays vital in the next part of the story.

    Soon came the seder Pesach night-with one of the arbaah banim literally missing from the yom tov table. It was a painful mah nishtana, not to mention that we already knew the differencebetween this night-this seder-and all others.

    My father-in-law the next morning awoke for vasikin –as he had done for decades and was not about to change now.

    Someone walked over to him after davening and gave him a hug, and then said, “Your son, in his hesped, I think what he said was apikorsis. How could we say that Arron had questions?”

    Can you imagine this?! Leaving aside that this is a midrash, and even if we would like to assume that his reaction was the correct one, who goes over to a father who just buried his son hours ago to inform him that one of his well-meaning bnei torah surviving sons preached apikorsis?!

    We quoted last week from chazal who teach us that we must wait for the mourner to speak before we do. The Levush explains that this is because until they speak we do not know where emotionally they may be holding, and are therefore oblivious to what type of custom-made nichum aveilim that is needed just for them.

    However, some things we will just have to assume on our own.

    Like the words of Rav Moshe Chaim Lutzatto in his hakdama to the Mesillas Yesharim, we come here not to pave new ground but to remind everyone of the obvious.

    First of all, you are there to offer nechama, most crucially by talking about the nifter. Of course, if the aveil does not speak at all one can start to stay some simple words of nechama, like “I am so sorry for your loss”.

    I myself always ask, “Are you up to sharing with me about the life of your father/mother?”

    However, a shiva call is not the time to assume a rebbe’ish stance-offering reasons why this or that happened, why suffering is a zechus, or how this too will be seen for the best. Indeed, the baalei mussar stress that gam zu l’tova is to be used internally (for one self) and not externally (to tell others).

    By all means, you may, and should, offer any help that they may need.

    Do not ask about missing family members or siblings who may be sitting shiva elsewhere. While usually a harmless question, there are times, sadly, that a family is or has become split.

    You do not need to know about the illness that preceded a death. You are not there to satisfy your own curiosity.

    Your presence alone is a nechama, if you are able to talk about the niftar and help focus the conversations toward that is a bonus.

    Let the aveil know you are there for anything they need.

    And remember the immortal words of Abraham Lincoln, “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt”

  • Styrofoam, Tallow, & Your Hot Cup of Joe

    Styrofoam, Tallow, & Your Hot Cup of Joe

    Is My Cup Treif?!

    March, 2019

    Several weeks ago I dedicated this space to discussing the kashrus world in general and the life of Rav Blech in particular. He was the kashrus expert’s kashrus export, and was niftar suddenly at a relatively young age.

    I concluded the column with one of the last discussions I had with him, where we tried to come up with a list of some of the more startling facts about the food industry that would shock the kosher consumer.

    We arrived at the following list:

    A) Confectionary Sugar Glaze (e.g. shine on chocolate covered almonds) coming from the lac bug

     B) Beaver glands used in artificial vanilla and maple flavor 

    C) Zinc Stearate used as a release agent in the tiny beads that make up Styrofoam cups, which comes from animals (stearate)

     D) The consistent color of white in granulated sugar is created by passing them over charcoaled animal bones

    E) Black ink may have squid ink in it

    The goal here was not to bring the reader alarm, rather to open his eyes to all that goes in to all that he consumes.

    Nevertheless, I received a steady stream of feedback after its publication regarding but one item on that list: C) Styrofoam Cups.

    I believe most kosher consumers were aware, albeit vaguely, that there is some issue or-another with these cups, and for some my quick reference only awakened their already sleeping curiosity.

    One reader wrote to me how a famous posek (whose name I will not mention due to my inability to check the veracity of this story) refused a cup of hot tea from his son on his death bed when it was served in a Styrofoam cup!

    I promised those that contacted me that I will revisit the issue in a column in the near future.

    In order to understand the potential kashrus concerns, a quick review of what ‘Styrofoam’ is would be apt.

    ‘Styrofoam’ is actually a trademarked name, like ‘Kleenex’ for tissues, or Coca-Cola for cola.

    In fact, ‘Styrofoam’ itself was never used for beverages or food. According to the Washington Post (December 18, 2003), Dow Chemical-who owns the name ‘Styrofoam’-is not pleased at this confusion.

    “We’re doing everything we can to make sure that it’s used properly,” says Tim Lacey, Dow’s business director for building solutions in the Americas. “We don’t really know why everyone wants to land on the name Styrofoam, and why it serves as something people want to misuse.”

    The more accurate name for the foamed cups we use is polystyrene, or EXP cups.

     These names stem from both the makeup and process behind these cups.

    The actual ‘stuff’ out of which these cups are made are created from a synthetic polymer made from styrene, hence the portmanteau ‘polystyrene’.

    As for the term EXP, it refers to either extruded or expanded polystyrene.

    Now that we understand its name we can better follow its fascinating production.

    The polystyrene comes to the factory in tiny granules-maybe the size of course salt.

    In the late 1940’s companies learnt that if one applies steam to these tiny pellets they will expand to over forty times their size. In addition, they become somewhat fused in their growth to each other.

    There are a host of services this discovery could-and does! -provide. From insulation to packing material that protects the product during shipment.

    EXP cups are produced with the same method, however, before these beads are fully formed they are placed in a cup molder where they are steamed some more.

    This forces them to form and shape into the hardened cup we all know so well.

    In fact, if you look closely enough at your Styrofoam cup – I mean EXP cup! – you may notice that it is made up by beads.

    Among its most beneficial features is that an EXP cup does not get hot to the touch from the outside, allowing one to serve piping hot coffee with a risk of lawsuits.

    So far this process seems innocuous enough. However, when it comes to production of any kind we have to factor in other issues.

    Once completed in the mold, these EXP cups need a way to be removed, simply and without breakage.

    In order to facilitate this, a release agent is added to the beads to aid its release from the mold upon completion.

    This release agent that is used is known as ‘zinc soap’, or Zinc Stearate.

    It is made up by Zinc Oxide and Stearic Acid.

    Stearic acid is often, and cheaply, derived from beef tallow which is made up of fourteen percent stearic acid.

    So now we understand the halachic concern. Although it can’t be seen, or tasted, and although it serves no further purpose, there is no doubt that a hot beverage served in such a cup or bowl will have some tarfus in it!

    And even if one wishes to point out that whatever one places in the cup will overwhelm the treif thereby being mevatel it (nullifying it), we have a rule that one can not nullify on purpose!

    Many have written on this topic (see Rav Gavriel Tzinner, Ohr Yisroel, Teves, 5765, pages 119-129), and almost all major poskim rule that these cups are still fine for use.

    Each of the many reasons behind its lichatchila allowance are complex, but we will touch on some of them briefly and with extreme brevity:

    • The Zinc Stearate is not nikkar (visible)
    • The above is especially true when no one is now desirous of this tasteless –and by now pointless-treif additive.
    • This treif ingredient itself is a davar pagum (putrid thing)

    For these, and other reasons not mentioned, one is at worst allowed to nullify this ingredient on purpose and at best the ingredient itself is not a concern to begin with.

    Of course, and as we also stress, each reader should speak to their own posek. But the rule of puk chazi mah d’ama devar (see what the nation does) would indicate a general acceptance of these cups’ allowance.

    I hope, as with the initial column that started this discussion, this brings the reader renewed recognition to all the great mashgichim and poskim behind all that we eat…and what we eat it with!

  • Megillas Esther -How This Book Got Its Name

    Much can be gleaned from the titles of our sifrei kodesh, and this is certainly true of megillas esther.

     However, when investigating the names of our sifrei kodesh, our first obligation is to be sure that we know if the title used is the correct one.

    When I was in 7th grade I first visited eretz yisroel. I remember very little of the trip –or of the many tours our family took. I do, however, remember a joke one of the tour-guides made. As we were driving up a hill he said, “If you look out your window to your right will see the kever of Shmuel aleph, and to your left that of Shmuel beis.”

    As a 7th grader I though this was the funniest thing I have ever heard. However, as I got older I realized how deep this silly joke is. This is due to the fact that there is really no such thing as two books of Shmuel!

    Rather the Christians invented the separation of this single sefer into two, as we discussed in great length in a Shavous feature several years ago.

    The strangest example of this phenomenon is the ‘books’ of Ezra and Nechemia. Not only is sefer Nechemia not mentioned in the listing of all the sifrei tanach found in chazal (bava basra 14-15), in another gemara (Sukka 37a) a pasuk in Nechemia is mentioned as being from sefer Ezra (Nechamia 8:15).

    This is because both Ezra and Nechemia are really contained in one sefer called, simply, ‘Ezra’!

    In fact, the gemara (Sanhedrin 93b) outright asks why Nechemia was not zoche to have the book named after him. The gemara explains that this is a punishment for the fact that Nechemia took too much credit for all that he accomplished.

    As to why we allowed another group’s title to eclipse our mesorah, Rav Reuvien Margilios (Margolios Hayam) quotes the Chida as explaining that chazal did not mean that Nechemia’s punishment was indefinite, and certainly at a certain point in history he would become absolved. This is why Hashem, at a certain point in our history, allowed the division of ‘Ezra’ into two books and for the latter to be called ‘Nechemia’.

    In addition to reminding us to make sure we are aware of the true names of our sifrei tanach, what we see from the above is that the titles of our sifrei kodesh are of great importance and come from much thought and kedusha.

    With this is mind, let us investigate the name ‘megillas esther’.

    If we stop to think about it for a minute, megillas esther is a strange name. None of the other four megillos were named after their author, and even koheles was a nom de plume, a nickname for its author, Shlomo hamalech. In fact, while taken from his words, Shlomo did not even write this sefer, rather it was written by Chizkiya and his assistants (bava basra 15a).

    Megilas rus is another sefer about which we often use ‘megilla’ in the title and that is named after its main protagonist. However, as many sefarim point out, Rus indeed was indeed the main person in the events told, indeed the events would seem monotonous if not also being the story of the great grandmother of Dovid Hamelech. It is the story, or megilla, of Rus. Megillas esther on the hand is not the story of Esther per se, rather the story of an existential crises to the Jewish people. Why not call it megillas yeshua?

    The Shevet Mussar (in B’einei HaEidah) even wonders why not call it Megillas Haman.

    As to the last question, he explains that because we are charged with destroying and erasing Amalek, naming a sefer after one if its members would defeat that purpose.

    Rather, he explains, it is called megillas esther because of the events recorded in the gemara (Megilla 7a). It was initially Esther’s idea to include this megilla in the canon of tanach. While the chachamim initially rejected her idea, they sent a letter back to her that they had soon in fact found a proof from the Torah to include it.

    In other words, it is only because of Esther’s initial request that we even have this sefer. So the name ‘megillas esther’ is a description of whom is responsible for its inclusion in tanach.

    (This being the case, some wonder if it is not inappropriate to so publicly take credit as to name the book after one self. See shu’t Divrei Malkeil, hakdama where he explains why so many gedolim including their own names in the titles of their sefarim, and how how this is a lofty and important thing to do)

    Many more ask questions on the title of this sefer, including why, if for whatever reason it is named after Esther, did she or we not use her real, Hebrew name, Hadassa (see Megilla 13a)?

    Rav Yonsan Eibishitz (Yaaros Devash 2:17) explains that one of the mains themes of the megilla is the hester panim (‘hiding’ the face) of Hashem. For this reason, explain many, is Hashem’s name not mentioned in the megilla. 

    Indeed, chazal famously teach (Chullin 139a), “Where do we find an allusion to Esther in the Torah? From (Devarim 31:18) ‘hester aster panai’ (I shall surely hide My face)”.

    Being that this is the main feature of the events of Purim, the megilla is titled ‘Esther’ to allude to this, and, for this reason we use the name Esther and not Hadassa.

    Many other explanations are offered as to why this megilla is given this particular name.

    However, the one that struck me the most is brought in the sefer Tenufah Chaim and others. They explain, as did Rav Eibishitz, that ‘Esther’ alludes to the hidden nature of the Riboneh Shel Olam.

    But this only explains the second word in its title. Megillas esther would then simply mean, “The Story (megilla) of (Hashem’s) Hiddenness”.

    However, the word megilla itself holds dual meanings.

    The root of this word is ‘giluy’, to reveal.

    In other words, megillas esther means “The revelation of the hidden”! This is both a perfect description of the events of Purim, and also a teffila to have once again such a giluy, as the navi teaches, a day when ‘umuchah Hashem Elokim es dimah ma’al kol panim’ (yeshayahu 25:8).

    This may also serve to explain why the yom tov of Purim will be the one yom tov still to be observed in the days of moshiach. For like our days in Persia, we will once again have a ‘megillas esther’, a revelation of the hidden.

    May it come soon!

  • Costumes on Purim: Background, History, & Meaning

    Costumes on Purim: Background, History, & Meaning

    March, 2019

    Many years ago, a young boy sat across from me the night of Purim dressed as Haman. He had the hat, the vested garments, and was wickedly mustachioed.

    It was, I had to admit, a great costume.

    The laining of the Megillah commenced and before we knew it Haman’s name was mentioned. Now, the first and last time his name is mentioned is always the loudest and longest, and that laining was no exception.

    I looked, and this boy was in one hand wildly shooting his cap gun (remember those?!) and in his other violently shaking his enlarged and very loud gragger. He was enjoying the laining immensely.

    With each mention of Haman’s name, I watched how deeply into blotting out the name of Haman he was.

    I watched him because I could not help but wonder how incongruous it all was.

    How can one be dressed in the likeness of someone while also acting out the need to blot them out of history?!

    As a side note, while some do bring down that we should not dress like a rasha, or a non-Jew –see Shulchan Aruch Hamikutzar –many, such as Rav Ephraim Greenblatt, are lenient, and the custom among many is indeed to be lenient. However, the Klausenberger rebbe and others are quoted as urging choosing costumes that represent tzadikim.

    But this then led to another thought –why do we dress up at all on Purim?

    The questions started to grow: How can we wear a costume during davening? What if a costume is so good that it will distract others from their davening? Does anyone check their rented costumes for shaatnez? Etc.

    While we cannot focus on all of the myriad issues Purim costumes touch upon, we can try to unlock some of the core mysteries, and perhaps explain why so many dress like Haman.

    Although beloved by many, there is no source or allusion to this minhag of wearing costumes found in chazal.

    Now, at first blush this does not seem too concerning, however some have pointed out a fear that this minhag came from non-Jewish festivals around this time year, i.e. Lent and the Roman carnivals that took place at its time.

    If correct, this could potentially be in violation of b’chukoseheim lo seileichu.

    However, the Steipler (Orchos Rabbeinu) says that this is not the case at all. In fact, it would be hard to argue that such a non-Jewish custom-followed in only a handful of places around Purim time –would have caused a spontaneous minhag to develop all over the Jewish world.

    Some even suggest that it is the other way around –some non-Jewish communities began to imitate the already burgeoning Purim minhag of dressing up to do the same during their holiday that took place around the same time.

    So where does our minhag come from?

    The earliest mention of this minhag is actually referenced by the Rama in the Shulchan Aruch. The Rema brings a teshuva from the shu’t Mahari Mintz, from a century earlier, who discusses some concerns with the costumes worn on Purim in his day in Italy, particularly relating to the issue of lo yilbosh (dressing only in clothes of one’s gender). Rav Yehudah HaLevi Mintz’s life spanned the entire 15th century (he was born in 1405 and died in 1508!). At the age of sixty-two he left Germany and became the rav of Padua in Northern Italy, and, due to his long life he was able to serve them for over forty years.

    It was here in Italy that he first sees this custom.

    While it is certainly possible that this minhag existed in fits and starts before his mention of it, it seems unlikely it was popular.

    The question still remains as to why we dress up.

    The most famous answer given is similar to why we eat kreplach on Hoshana Rabba. Kreplach –with its hidden meat-represents the hidden nature of that day, and costumes on Purim best represent the hidden nature of the miracle of Purim.

    However, as pointed our relating to Hoshana Rabba, there are far less drastic ways to reflect this type of ness.

    Others, like Rav Soloveitchik and Otzar Taamei Haminhagim point to all those who dressed up or who hid who they were in both the Megilla and throughout Jewish history. Eliyahu pretending to be Charvona; Haman saying he was Memuchan; Esther not revealing she was a Jewess; Mordechai being dressed by Haman in the kings royal clothing; Mordechai placing upon himself sackcloth.

    Our doing the same as the above is explained as either a way to recall the ness of the story of Purim, a persumei nissa in action, or, to remind ourselves that just like in this story, the outside is not what matters rather only the pnemius.

    The Ktzos HaShulchan and many others (see also Shalmie Todah p. 326; Nittei Gavriel p. 409, inter alia) explain this minhag brilliantly. In Bamidbar 21:1 the Torah teaches us of how after the passing of Aron and the removal of the ananei hakavod, Arad and the canaanim attacked bnei yisroel.

    Chazal teach (see Rashi ad loc, Yalkut Shimoni, and Tosfos to Rosh Hashana 3a) that in fact this was Amalek who gave over the appearance as if they were Canaan so that they would not be recognized.

    Based on this, some suggest that on Purim, when we recall Amalek, we poke fun of their failed plans by also dressing up.

    Others use this Midrash to explain costumes on Purim in a different way, also explaining how we can dress as Haman. Chazal teach that although they acted and spoke like Canaan, we still recognized them due to their clothes which were amaleki clothes! We therefore dress in the clothing of Amalek to make fun of how they foiled their own evil plan by not also changing their mode of dress.

    Another fascinating explanation (see Shalmei Todah ad loc. and others) to our minhag of costumes is based on a pasuk in the Megilla (8:17) regarding how many Gentiles converted to yiddeshkeit after the ness Purim. The Vilna Gaon on this pasuk points out that we did not accept these converts because although they made themselves look likeJews, this was only on the outside, and they did this out of fear. Based on this, we too dress up to recall this episode.

    Others point to the language of the targum (Ch. 3) in the Megilla who explains Haman’s hate for Mordechai as stemming from Yaakov tricking Eisav into selling his firstborn rite. Yaakov, of course, was correct in this action –an action facilitated by his dressing up and ‘stealing’ the berachos!

    This last explanation perhaps also explains why some dress like Haman, or other reshaim, for that is precisely what Yaakov had to do!

    The Maharam Chagiz (Eleh Hamitzvos #543) suggests another explanation for our minhag of dress-up. Chazal teach (Megilla 12a) that just like the Jews only bowed to Haman from the outside, internally holding strong to their yahdus, so too did Hashem only give the appearance as if He was to destroy klal yisroel, but internally knowing He will save them. To recall that this whole episode only happened in ‘outside appearance’ we conceal faces and outside appearances. The Bnei Yisachar records a similar explanation.

    The sefer Kol Aryeh and others suggest that the reason we dress up on Purim is to solve a technical problem. On Purim there is not only a mitzvah to give out mattanos le’vyonim, but to give tzedaka to anyone who asks.

    Because of this and all people who have fallen on hard times could use this day to their benefit. However, how can we prevent some of them the shame of asking for help? We do so by asking everyone to dress up, thereby never knowing to whom we just handed money!

    Based on this last answer, the Nittei Gavriel (siman 30 in the back of his sefer) teaches us something brilliant.

    Have you ever wondered why on Purim-more so than any other Yom Tov-we always ask friends, family, and even strangers for a vort on the holiday or Megilla?

    He explains that this was due to the above. Because we give tzedaka to anyone on this day, and, because we dress up to help facilitate this, there is a real fear of some taking advantage of this Jewish kindness. We therefore have a secret code to make sure the receiver is worthy!

    This may also explain why ‘Purim Torah’ is synonymous with strange and humorous divrei Torah. Perhaps this is due to the fact that not all aniyay yisroel were well versed in Torah to give a decent vort over. So to continue the tradition of not embarrassing them, we not only dress up on Purim, but we say over strange divrei Torah so that they will not be embarrassed if when giving over our ‘secret code’ they do not have anything brilliant to offer!

    As we always say –there is so much Torah and beauty in minhagei yisroel!

  • Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow: A Fascinating Hair Transplant Halacha Query

    Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow: A Fascinating Hair Transplant Halacha Query

    November 2018

    A Fascinating Shaila, and Some Good Advice

    People often seek to prove that stress causes premature greying from recent presidents. Presidents Obama, Bush and many others were not grey upon election, but over the first few years in office they precipitously turned grey (Regan, however, is likely still not grey!).

    I have always disregarded this proof.

    Rather, I contend, the above phenomenon is caused by an other factor.

     During the election –when candidates are looking for any and all votes-they wish to look young and full of vigor. So, they dye their hair to remove their already grey hair. It is only after they win that they stop dying their hair and it then turns back to its natural color!

    Rabbanim, lahavdil, may have the opposite concern.

    We see from Rav Elazar Ben Arzia (Berachos 27-28) that rabbanim do not wish to appear young. After he was chosen to replace Raban Gamiliel as rosh yeshiva, his wife told him, “But your hair is not white!” As we know, the next morning he woke up and, although still eighteen (or sixteen according to the Yerushalmi), his hair had turned grey and white.

    This is more than just a celebrated story from our past, but may have halachic consequence as well.

    About one-hundred-and-fifty years ago there was a man –about whom many teshuvos indicate was a rav;see Tznif Melucha p. 80:14) whose hair and beard grew in an unexpected way.

    On one side of his head his hair, payos and beard were completely black, and on the other side they were completely white.

    One would approach him with a shaliah thinking he was an older posek, and he would turn around to answer and he would abruptly turn into a thirty-year-old!

    This is not a legend or the beginning of a gag, this really happened, and many teshuvos were written in response to his question if he would be allowed to dye half of his hair (shu’t Shoel Umeishiv 1:210)!

    Some point out (see shu’t Mahari Ashkanazi y’d 19) that the concern of lo yilbash (the prohibition for one gender to act or dress like the other) is limited not to an action per se, but rather to a result that the other gender would also desire. In other words, since no woman (generally speaking) would dye their hair color to white or grey, we can allow this rav dye the black half of his hair to grey (instead of the white half black)!

    I mention the above not just because it is interesting, but because of a recent shailah I was asked that I found fascinating, and for which Rav Zilberstien and a balla buss was very helpful in solving.

    This shailah opened the door to many varying sugyos, which allowed me to dedicate shiurim to it and to the springs of Torah that it forces one to encounter.

    (Of course, what follows is only meant l’kovod Torah u’lahdira, and not for psak)

     An older bochur, about thirty years of age, has not yet been able to find his bashert. As he has gotten older the calls have dwindled and he is only getting older.

    To add to his concern, he has gone almost completely bald over the past few years. To his mind, if it was hard in his twenties to find shidduchim, being a bald man in his thirties has only made it that much more difficult.

    His shaliah was two-fold:

    First, he wished to know if he may he get a hair transplant to fix his baldness.

    This question, while interesting, is not necessarily a new one.

    It was the next question that followed that was new, at least to me.

    When he went to his appointment with the hair transplant surgeon (at that point not realizing any shailah was involved), the doctor saw that he was a frum Jew. So, at the end of the appointment the doctor explained to him the following. Hair transplantation is an ever-changing field, always improving their methods and outcome. Because he will be transplanting hair and skin from the back of his head, and doing so seamlessly, his new hair (and skin underneath) will be very sensitive for a week or so.

    This being the case, it would be both dangerous as well as disadvantageous to the procedure, to place anything weighted on his head for that week following.

    The potential client nodded his head showing his understanding. But the doctor knowingly looked at him, as if to say ‘You’re not getting it”.

    “You’re an orthodox Jew, yes?”

    “Yes”

    “Well what I am trying to say is that the boxes which you pace upon your head each morning can not be worn for five to seven days following this procedure”.

    Things just got very interesting.

    As to the first shailah, I recall waiting in the lobby after a chasunah for the pouring rain to subside. A famous rosh yeshiva was also waiting. He suddenly grabbed his rebbitzen’s pink raincoat and ran out to get the car.

    This is based on the view of the Bach and others (see Shulchan Aruch, y’d siman 182 with Taz #4 and Shach #7) who say there is no lo yilbosh when done to protect from weather.

    But what about dyeing one’s hair? This is a machlokos. Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurbach (Minchas Shlmo 2:86:3) allowed it for shidduch purposes, and Rav Moshe Feinstein extended an allowance for certain job purposes (Igros Moshe y’d 2:61), while on the other hand the Chazon Ish and others (see Peor Hador 4:p.92) disallowed even in these cases.

    It should be noted that Rav Moshe writes in a separate responsum, that should a pill be invented that turns hair back to its natural color, this too would be forbidden for men to take (unless one has reasons that fit with his lenient view above).

    However, even if this young man wished to accept the lenient view, could he do so knowing it would prevent him from wearing teffilin?!

    The issue of bittul aseh (actively avoiding a positive mitzvah) is a highly complex one, both in halacha  (see Ravaad to Avodah Zara 20 if doing so is a deroisa or a derabanan) and hashkafa (see Orach Chaim Hakodosh to Shmos 3:5 and Yaaros Devash 1:5).

    There is also much discussion as to how often the mitzvah of teffilin is activated –is it a mitzvah all day, every day? The Brisker Rav famously ruled (see shu’t Teshuvos V’Hanhagos 2:30) that the mitzvah of teffilin is a constant, and is not renewed daily.

    I mentioned all of this in greater detail in a recent halacha shiur I gave.

    At the end of the shiur everyone wished to know what I told the man to do at the end.

    I explained that a Rav from Queens, Rav Hirtz, who is close to Rav Zilberstein, is in eretz yisroel and will be asking him for his thoughts.

    Another person at the shiur then said the following. “Rabbi, all of this is very interesting, but I have an easy why out of all of this”.

    Oh really, I thought. I just had spent hours going through this complex sugya, and this guy figured out its secret, impossible!

    “Assuming Rav Zilberstein paskens there is no lo yilbash issue in getting a transplant in this case, just let him get the surgery before Pesach or Sukkos. This way, he is anyway not wearing teffilin for a week!”

    I was stopped in my tracks. I missed the forest for the trees! Such an easy way out of the problem!

    A few days later, I received a call from Rav Hirtz.

    “Nu, what did Rav Zilberstein say?” I anxiously asked.

    “He said to get the procedure done around chol hamoed to avoid the teffilin issue”!

    Always listen to your balla battim!

  • Leader of Kashrus: Remembering Rav Zushe Blech, z”l

    Leader of Kashrus: Remembering Rav Zushe Blech, z”l

    Once when I was a bachor home for bein hazmanim, a balla buss I knew well was behind me in line in Toronto’s ‘Kosher City’ grocery mart.

    Like its name implies, this store sold a large variety of everything and anything with a reliable hashgacha.

    He began to challenge me –in good spirit – regarding the path I had chosen (knowing myself as a bachur, I likely started up). Many yeshiva bochurim who went home to their communities have had similar experiences, I’m sure. “How are you going to support yourself?” “Are you not going to go to school?” “Don’t you think culture is important?”

    We had a calm and good-natured back-and-forth until he said something that was not only deeply offensive, but wrong, and for which chazal teach is the very definition of apikorsis (Sanhedrin 99b; opinion of Rav Yosef).

     “While, of course, Torah is vital, at the end of the day what did the Chasam Sofer do for klal yisroel? What can those who are just talmidei chachamim, who stay in a beis medras,h do to improve the needs of the klal?”

    I don’t know if that is an exact quote, but I do remember the Chasam Sofer being used as an example simply because of the ridiculousness of that illustration even in his warped thinking –as the Chasam Sofer was vital in saving Hungarian Jewry!

    While I truly believe and hope that he meant to make a more nuanced point, there was something else that struck me as odd, and it was to that which I ultimately responded.

    While he was espousing his vindictive views he was unloading his cart of groceries. Onion rings, chips, soda, meat, canned goods, etc. I nodded toward his purchases, and replied.

     “Do you have any idea how much Torah went into that bag of potato chips? Why, shouldn’t they be considered bishul akum?! How about your meat –do you have any idea the Torah that is known to these shochtim and their on-site poskim who, often, live in remote areas so that you may have a steak? Do you have any idea how many shailos come up and need to be resolved just so you can have frozen onion rings?!

    “Do you have any idea the amount of Torah you consume when you eat a bowl of spaghetti?!”

    You see, to many, the world of kashrus is magic. ‘Poof!’ and there is now an OU on Gatorade. ‘Shazam!’ and Kraft’s vinegars have a hashgacha on the label. ‘Abra–cadabra’ and Welch’s grape juice has a limited kosher run.

    Of course if we think about it for a moment we would come to realize just how much Torah, how many man-hours, and the amount of labor which goes into each and every product that we put into our mouths.

    And all of this work, all of this Torah, often comes from well beyond our personal techum. Due to shipping capabilities and refrigeration it is not at all uncommon to be walking down an aisle in a grocery store in Los Angeles and pick up a product made five days ago in Philadelphia, that is certified by a kashrus agency based in New York, who in turn sent a mashgiach living in Baltimore after speaking to his posek who lives in Brooklyn!

    We mustn’t take our bounty of kosher food in America for granted.

    And if there is one individual to whom much research and chochma in this fieldis owed it is to Rav Zushe Blech z’l.

    Rav Zushe tragically and suddenly passed away last week. He was just 64 years of age.

    He was a kashrus expert’s kashrus expert.

    He literally ‘wrote the book’ on kashrus, ‘Kosher Food Production’, which I will speak of in a moment.

    But I first wish to speak personally about him, as although not from his closest chaveirim, I was deeply wounded by his passing.

     When I was twenty-five years old I was hired as the rav in Buffalo, New York.

    Twenty-five is young by any standard. But what made that job even more daunting was that I had to also run the local vaad, which began to widen its net in my first few years.

    Before I left Lakewood, I read through every Daf Hakashrus (OU’s kosher periodical and teshuvos; edited by Rav Grossman), and every pamphlet and book on modern food production I could get my hands on. I also spent a significant amount of time with my father-in-law, who at the time was running the COR-Canada’s largest vaad, and the kashrus of Toronto, training in the field.

    But the world of kashrus is endless. Something new always arose. When that would happen, when I needed to speak to someone who knew both the halacha cold and the science clear-my father-in-law told me that there was only one man for the job: Rav Zushe Blech.

    I was a nobody, and Rav Zushe could have easily not given me the time of day.

    But from the first time I reached out to him, he would always make time for me.

    Once, in my early years, I naively mentioned to Dr. Regenstein – Cornell’s professor of food science, who gives accredited courses there on kashrus –that there needs to be a book on kashrus for factories and for his classes.

    “There is one!” he responded. “‘Kosher Food Production’ by Rav Zushe Blech”.

    Published by Wiley-Blackwell-and sold at an academic book price-it is the book on kashrus and its modern challenges –how vinegar is made; production of of dairy, whey, butter, etc; grape products; chemicals and enzymes, the list goes on, and this book covers them all with great breadth and careful wording.

    Readers of Ami have also gained from Rav Zushe’s keen intellect and knowledge (aside for Ami’s interview with his in a recent annual Kosher issue).

    For, whenever I touch upon any particular halachic topic I try to send my article and sources to a talmid chacham, someone objective to review it before I send it on. I try to find whomever is known to be an expert and knowledgeable in the field about which I am writing.

    Whenever I touched upon kashrus, I would always review the article with Rav Zushe.

    For example, last year in this space we dedicated three columns on the fascinating topic of honey production and the concerns with Forest Honey. Rav Zushe’s time and breadth of knowledge was invaluable. He asked for and got zero credit, but reviewing our emails on the subject tonight I realize that I could not have written these without his help.

    Searching tonight, I found my last correspondence with him. In it one will discover both his breadth of knowledge and how much people like him have helped us all eat what is permissible.

    “Shalom U’Beracha, Kavod HaRav, Shlita!

    “I hope all is well (and I miss hearing you lein when I am in Monsey!)

    “I am being interviewed by someone who wishes to know some surprising facts as to the need of Kashuth on seemingly innocuous products.

    “I was wondering if, over shabbos, or now, you can add to my list. I feel that I might be missing a good one, and there is no greater chacham in this area to turn to than you.”

    By the end of our series of correspondence on this issue, we arrived at the following fascinating (partial) list:

    A) Confectionary Sugar Glaze (e.g. shine on chocolate covered almonds) coming from the lac bug.

     B) Beaver glands used in artificial vanilla and maple flavor 

    C) Zinc Stearate used as a release agent in the tiny beads that make up Styrofoam cups, which comes from animals (stearate)

     D) The consistent color of white in granulated sugar is created by passing them over charcoal animal bones; 

    E) Black ink often has squid ink in it, and for this reason, one gum company that I certify (Big League Chew/Ford Gum) can make gumboils that are kosher and engraved with your company logo unless you want it in black! 

    [This last two are not related to Kosher per se, but come to show that food is more than meets the eye] 

    F)Titanium Dioxide in creamer

    G) Paper is added to many foods and beverages -they call it cellulose, but it is simply reams of paper, so that they can say ‘A Great Source of Fiber!” (i have to get a release for this last one if you want me to use it)

    Yes, kashrus is just that complex, and, yes, we owe a great amount of hakara to those who dedciate their time so that we may eat without concern.

    Rav Zushe revolutionized our knowledge of  kashrus. May his neshama have an Aliyah, and may he be a meilitz yashar to his Rebbitzen Vitta, his brother and sisters, and his children and grandchildr

  • False Flag!

    False Flag!

    “Never Luz a Moment!”
    A Lesson From the Hawaii False Alarm

    January, 2018

    Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think

    Chinese Proverb

    Several days ago, on the morning of January 13, it seemed as a real possibility that we were at risk of losing the 50th State of the Union – the island-state of Hawaii (it entered statehood in 1959).

    The terrifying warnings from the state went out to all of their citizens, residents and visitors:

    “BALLISTIC MISSLE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMIDEATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL”

    It is important to remind the reader that this warning did not come out of nowhere. People on the island had every reason to take it seriously North Korea has longed threatened this island-the closest landmass of the United States to their ‘Hermit Kingdom’.

    The North Korean leadership, to any objective observer, is mercurial, evil, and most critically, not in any way rational. Having been developing nuclear weapons of their own for some time, Hawaii in particular has felt some existential angst, to say the least, especially since our current president-for better or worse-has taken a more hawkish approach toward the North Koreans.

    Eventually it was revealed to the frightened denizens of the island that the ‘warning’ was sent in error. Someone apparently pressed the wrong button, we were told. Amazingly, it took thirty-eight minutes to correct this error –apparently because the governor forgot his password!

    Many stories came out from this event, but none of them struck me like how Mark Gardner responded to this false warning.

    He was playing golf on this Saturday morning. The weather was beautiful, the view stunning, and he was working on bettering his game. All of a sudden this warning blasted throughout the golf course.

    A nuclear weapon may be on its way!

    So what did he do? He took out his smart-phone (an oxymoron if ever there was one!) and recorded a video to his family and loved ones, to be discovered in case of his pending demise.

    Looking into the face of the camera, he began his short message, what he believed might be the last communication to his children:

     “If you are watching this video, that means I didn’t make it… because of the missile coming toward Hawaii…I just ‘par-ed’ the last whole…I love you all, but I am playing golf, and it’s the last thing I’m gonna do”

    Well, we all have our passions, I guess.

    The next morning, by our Sunday shiur I asked my balla battim what they would do if they thought they may have only five minutes left on earth.

    How would you respond, react, to such news?

    There is indeed much to be mined and learnt from this event.

    One’s most honest moments happen before an imminent departure. It is only at such a moment when all veneers are lifted, when we discover who we really are and what is most important to us, or should be.

    That morning, instead of learning meseches Shabbos like we usually do, we spent the first twenty minutes discussing this profound mussar we can uncover from this incident through the lens of chazal.

    The first thing that came to mind is a teaching of Rebbe Eliezar (Avos D’Rav Nosson 15:4) that a person should do teshuvah one day before they die.

    The gemara (Shabbos 153a) recounts how the talmidim of Rebbe Eliezar asked him how this is possible. “Does one know when he will die so as to do teshuvah the day before?”

    Their rebbe responded by explaining, “All the more so! This way (because we do not know our day of death) we will have to live each day as if it’s the last and this way spend all our days in teshuvah!”

    This gemara is sharing an open secret. To discover who we are and where we are holding, imagine a day as our last. At that moment we will recognize what we truly hold dear, what is b’emes important. And, if one does this every single day (no small feat!), imagine what a life he could live!

    Years ago a saw in a sefer in the name of Rav Yaakov Kamanetzky a story- a metaphor really- that can serve to awaken one from life’s monotonous slumber.

    We are all familiar with the city of Luz. While it is unclear if this is the same city mentioned in sefer Bereishis or in sefer Shoftim (see Sota 46 with Bereishis Rabba 69:8), there is one special feature found within this city that is most intriguing.

    Chazal (Sotah, ibid.) teach that due to their merits-largely the zechus of escorting guests-they were zocheh to many special things, like a stable economy due it being the main manufacture of techeiles, as well asNevuchadnetzar’s inability to capture this city, etc.

    But perhaps the greatest gift bestowed on the city of Luz was that anybody who lived in that city was incapable of dying.

    In order to die, the gemara explains, the very old would simply walk outside their city boundaries or walls and be niftar.

    Rav Yaakov wondered aloud a penetrating thought experiment:

    Imagine you are taking a stroll one day near the outskirts of the city of Luz. At that same time a man living inside who is, say, 800 years old, walks outside the city so that Hashem could take his neshama.

    You see this elderly man and give him a hearty ‘Shalom Aleichem!’

    You both begin to talk and it is revealed that he is close to a millennium in age!

    “That is amazing that you live so long” you stunningly react.

    Being that such long lives is all he knows, he earnestly asks “Why? For how long to people outside the city of Luz live?”

    You will likely respond by quoting the pasuk  (Tehillim 90:10) “The days of our years…are seventy years, and if with strength, eighty years; but their pride is toil and pain, for it passes quickly and we fly away”

    The elderly gentleman will look at you in disbelief and shock.

    “You mean to tell me that you, on average, only live several decades?!”

    You will nod your head confirming your words.

    The elderly man will excitedly reply, “Wow! With such a short amount of time that certainly means no one in your world wastes a single second! You all certainly chap every single second of the day! You must be osek in Torah and chesed every single waking moment. All so you can accomplish everything in your few short years!”

    Now that we reached mid-winter, as the days begin to get longer, we should rededicate ourselves to recall always what our true priorities are. 

    We do not need a five-minute-missile-arrival-warning to awaken ourselves toward what truly matters…and that ain’t golf!

    Chazal in (Bereishis Rabba) explain why by the time the dor of Avraham arrived the life span of Man was severely cut-from hundreds of years to into the one-hundreds. They explain that when one has hundreds and hundreds of years to live they would tend to procrastinate. “Oh, I will start working on shas in my 500’s. I have time!”, or,  “I will start being osek in chesed in a few hundred years” etc.

    The goal of our relative brief time is to light a fire beneath us, to awaken us every day to what really matters…and to get to it! Because we just never know.

    This false warning for Hawaii has become, at least for me, a wake-up call to be mekayeim the words of Rebbe Eliezar.

  • End-Of-Life Issues

    End-Of-Life Issues

    Difficult Conversations

    October, 2019

    Last week we shared a story about end-of-life issues and the need to have frum doctors as well as knowledgeable rabbanim with whom to advise. This week, we will continue on this theme while touching upon another end-of-life issue that we can and should deal with post-haste.

    The July 21, 2006 issue of the Wall Street Journal ran a column titled “How Faith Saved the Atheist”. In it, the writer tells the story of how when her father lay dying in a New York City hospital every doctor sought to convince them to let him “Die with dignity” and not seek to extend his time further. The writer, an unaffiliated Jew, came up with a ruse: she told the doctors that her father was an Orthodox Jew (he was not). According to her telling, this finally caused, in her words, “an invisible fence” to go up around their family, where no longer were the doctors and nurses asserting or hinting to a swifter demise. The writer remarks: “Though my father was born to an Orthodox Jewish family, he is an avowed atheist who long ago had rejected his parents’ ways. As I sat in the ICU, blips on the various screens the only proof that my father was alive, the irony struck me: My father, who had long ago rejected Orthodox Judaism, was now under its protection.”

    But such holy protection can come with complexity.

    Several years ago I was called down to a hospital. The elderly woman lay unconscious in her bed and her husband of over sixty years looked sad, tired and worn.

    “Rabbi, I am glad that you are here. There are so many decisions that need to be made, and I have no idea what is wrong or right, what is moral or amoral. My wife knew that I would not be able to handle such momentous choices, and so a few years back she put you down as her health care proxy.”

    A ‘Health Care Proxy’ is a document that names an individual who would have the power over all medical decisions should one, Rachmanah l’tzlan, be incapacitated.  The Health Care Proxy is distinct from a ‘Living Will’. A Living Will’s job is to pick up where the health care proxy left off by explaining in it as much detail as is desired in regards to specific directives to the proxy such as which rabbanim to ask shailos to (more than one should be offered as not always can a rav be contacted), and what the patient would want in any number of scenarios.

    The man then said something to me that stopped me cold in my tracks. “She was so happy to put you down as her health care proxy because she knew how you believe in the halachic concept of ‘brain-death’”

    However, nothing could be further from the truth. Although I am certainly not near being a bar plugta in such devarim sh’omdim b’romo shel olam, I certainly follow the mainstream view –as articulate clearly by the major poskim of the last generation, and their students – that ‘brain death’ (defined as such only in specific scenarios and criteria) should not be deemed halachic death.

    While this is not the place to go into the details, certain matters are important for readers to know, so as to be aware how doctors think and so that the proper paperwork is filled in.

    In the the 1960’s doctors began to succeed in transplantation of major organs. But there was a paradox. On the one hand, one can not murder someone, yet on the other hand, for some transplantations they would need a ‘live’ organ. Let us quote from the National Center of Biotechnology:

    “This, in turn, generated demand for increasing numbers of organs, especially from dead individuals, producing a paradox: “the need for both a living body and a dead donor.” The groundwork required to resolve this paradox had been laid in 1968 by Henry Beecher and the Harvard Ad Hoc Committee’s proposal that a person could be diagnosed as dead when there was irreversible cessation of the function of the entire brain”.

    This became known as “The Harvard Criteria”, (and is not referring to a vegetative state). It was largely dismissed by the major poskim, with Rav Elyashiv and others signing a letter against our acceptance of such a protocol not found in chazal.

    Yet there are some rabbis and vocal figures (including Dr. Steinberg, the editor of the ongoing Encylopidia Talmudis) who, although a minority, support certain types of brain death in halacha based on their personal communication with some of the great sages who in the past publicly rejected it.

    I share this with the reader because it is crucial information, and choices can be made on one’s behalf. Everyone should make sure to compose a health care proxy and a living will. One can easily find the Agudah’s version of a living will to be appended to one’s will. And, one should meet with their morah horah to discuss these issues so that they know what to do in case the worst happen, challila.

    Here I was in a hospital having to decide between what I believed to be daas Torah, and what this patient had articulated to her husband. Of course, I knew what I felt was right, but I was in a situation where I would have to either reject involvement or explain to the husband why I was not able to follow his wife’s clear ratzon. With clear planning, this could have been avoided.

    In 1772 the Duke of Mecklenburg demanded that all bodies remain unburied for three days to assure death actually took place. Some scholars, including the maskilim, supported this decree while the Chasam Sofer (Yoreh Deah 338) and major poskim did not, demanding instead that we rely on halacha and mesorah and not fear or personal whims. This is true whether it is about pronouncing death earlier than culture would, or later.

    This story is highly illustrative, for while many believe that halacha is always stringent when it comes to these issues the truth is that the only concern in hashkofos haTorah is for Tores Emes to be reached, whether its a leniency or stringency.

    Write a Living Will, talk to your rav, and in the zechus it should never be needed.

  • Speeches & Surprises

    It usually takes a good two or three weeks to prepare a really good impromptu speech.

    Mark Twain

    I use that line to open a speech whenever I was not told before hand that I would be addressing the crowd.

    It is the one thing I always have at-the-ready!

    As someone in a position where one never knows when they may have to speak, always having a speech prepared is wise counsel.

    In fact, it is solid advice for anyone attending an event, and certainly for a rav.

    The classic suggestion is that every rav should have a vort in his back pocket for every occasion –a classic idea for a bar mitzvah, a wonderful thought for a sheva brachos and, divrei hesped and nechama for a levaya. Then, should he be surprised with a request to speak he has, at least, a starting point.

    Several weeks ago a member of my shul’s brother sadly passed away. Now, shuls have different types of membership, and this person who was sitting shivah is what is called an ‘associate member’. An associate member could mean many things, often it refers to someone or a family that while they don’t usually daven in the shul-nor sometimes live nearby-they still wish to show their support.

    In any event, because of my loose connection with this family, I missed the news that he was sitting shiva.

    It was the last day of shiva when I discovered his loss and I immediately darted into my car and headed over to his home where I assumed he was sitting shiva.

    When no one answered the door, I called the home. My cell connection was bad. What I did make out from his wife is that he has a large family and thery were sitting shiva in their sefardi (bukkarian) shul. “We should have called you to come to this evening, but please come”.

    I thought I misheard this last line. “We should have called…” Why should they have called me? To invite me to the last opportunity to pay a shiva call? But as I said, the connection was bad and I attributed my mishearing her words to that.

    In any event, that evening when we finished the late maariv in my shul, I shot into my car and quickly made my way over to this sefardi shul.

    Walking in, the building was silent.

    Not a sound.

    I looked inside the beis haknesses-the lights were off.

    Maybe I misheard which shul the family is sitting in, I thought.

    I made my way downstairs, and saw that the lights in the ballroom were on.

    I quickly, and without giving it too much thought, walked in to the ballroom, with its heavy door quickly, and loudly, closing behind me.

    To my shock, at least three-hundred people were in this room, eating a catered meal. Before I came into the room, all were silent as they were listening to divrei hesped from their rav, and with the slam of the door, one could hear the heads of three-hundred peple all at once turn to look at me.

    The whole moment was awkward, but also incongruous. Could this really be a shiva?

    Maybe I was in the wrong shul and this was a sheva brachos, or the like.

    But it was a shiva. I then recalled how many groups within sefard have a fascinating minhag for some type of public gathering for the last night of shiva, where friends and family and rabbanim join the family for their last night of halchic mourning.

    In fact, at the back of the room, behind all the guests and tables, I was able to make-out the aveilim sitting near the floor.

    Now I understood what she meant when she said, “We should have called you…”

    All of this happened very quickly. The slamming of the door behind me, the turning of the heads to look at who made this ruckus during the rav’s speech, and my remembering this minhag.

    The rav stopped his speech, and kindly invited me to sit with him and the other sefardi rabbanim at the head table. This was not the time to argue-all eyes were on this red-headed ashkanazi who just walked in-so I quickly and as quietly as possible made may way to an empty chair at their table.

    In truth, I was now deeply curious. I have never attended an event like this, and wanted to know what type of speeches were made, what was done at this type of event. It was a chance to witness a beautiful mesorah that was new to me.

    How does a rav mesh the wonderful food and large unified gathering with the deep mourning of the family?

    As these thoughts were going through my head, the rav was finishing his speech.

    In Hebrew, he concluded, “And now we have Rabbi Taub joining us.” Directing the microphone toward me, he then concluded “We now ask him to speak.”

    While trying to keep a straight face, I was panicking inside!

    Thirty seconds ago I thought I walked into the wrong building, fifteen seconds ago I noisily made my ‘grand’ entrance, ten seconds ago I put it all together and recalled this wonderful sefardi minhag, five seconds ago I wondered what a rav would speak about at such an event, and now I am being asked to speak!?

    ‘I guess I was about to find out what a rav says by such events!’, I jokingly thought to myself.

    There are two things that are true across all languages and cultures. Honesty and ahavah. I began by saying over the story that brought me there-what I just shared with you above-and then I admitted my own curiosity at what a rav would say before I myself was called up to the podium.

    I then spoke about the love that the Torah describes between fathers, mothers and children (the niftar’s mother was still alive) and the bond between a husband and his wife, trying to tie it to that week’s parshas Vayeitzei which happened to cover many of those topics.

    It was not, perhaps, a great speech, but it was an honest one, and a heartfelt one at that. When I finished, I turned to the rabbanim and asked,  “How did I do?”

    “Rabbanim usually speak for at least twenty minutes at these events” one responded, before another added, “But I am surprised you were able to muster even three minutes!”

    It was a unique event, and it trained me for yet another situation for which to always have a vort close by.

    But it also taught me another lesson.

    No matter what our customs, or how we mourn, at the end of the day family is family and words of comfort can come in all shapes, sizes, and levels of surprise.

  • Reciting Tehillim & Tanach as ‘Medicine’

    December, 2019

    Several years ago, a member of my previous shul was in a horrible accident. Although she was not frum, she was a modestly wealthy woman who paid dues to many of the shuls in our small community, including the Conservative and Reform temples, and divided her time among all of them. So when the news of her misfortune spread, the entire Jewish community was deeply distraught.

    My shul decided to invite everyone in town to our beis haknesses for a night of Tehillim. In addition to Chabad and the other Orthodox shuls, we invited the non-frum denominations to announce the program. We would come together as Jews and pray for this woman’s recovery ina respectful manner. That night was a tremendous kiddush Hashem.

    In anticipation of the evening, I prepared what I hoped would be a short and inspiring introductory drashah about the power of tefillah in general and Tehillim in particular. I asked my wife for advice about what I could share that would speak to Jews of such differing backgrounds and levels of observance.

    Her response was magnificent!

    She reminded me that everyone in attendance used a specific siddur and nusach, and it was likely that with Sefardim, Ashkenazim, and Chabad—not to mention, l’havdil, the altered prayer books of the other denominations—in the room, there would be few people, if any, who recited the same Shemoneh Esrei.

    In addition, she continued, few shared the same minhagim for Kiddush,forthe type of matzahor Haggadah they used on Pesach or the daled minim they used on Sukkos. However, the one thing they all shared—and that all Jews share—was an identical Sefer Tehillim.

    A mystic in eighteenth-century Egypt and a child in the Warsaw Ghetto recited the same Tehillim. The Psalms have never changed; they have been the same for all people throughout the ages, the tears shed over their pages inestimable.

    What a wonderful way to preface that evening’s tefillos and to remind people of the power and unifying force of Tehillim.

    (See the new addition to Emes L’Yaakov on the second half of nach regaring why it is not called ‘Tehillos’; see however Malbim inter alia who indeed call it by that feminine name)

    I open with this story so that reader knows where I stand, and that the forthcoming is only l’hagdil Torah u’l’haadirah.

    A few months ago, someone in my shul shared with me an article he had read online, a well-researched halachah paper discussing the efficacy, and even the permissibility, of reciting Tehillim for those who are ill, limiting it to very specific times. He was shocked by the article’s strict conclusions and asked for my opinion.

    This touches on last week’s column as well, which mentioned some interesting segulos related to Chanukah and other occasions when reciting certain kapitlach of Tehillim are said to ward off tragedy. In fact, there are many references to special perakim of Tehillim that one can recite for a variety of situations and times.

    While this is a minhag Yisrael, it is not an easy one to understand. The Gemarateaches that it is forbidden to use pesukim to heal oneself, and that at times, doing so can diminish one’s share in Olam Haba (Shavuos 15b).

    While the Gemara concludes that one may recite pesukim to prevent danger or tragedy, our common practice is to say Tehillim for a refuah or yeshuah for something that already exists.

    How is this allowed?

    The same could be asked regarding the famous segula of reciting parshas haMann on the Tuesday before parshas Beshalach.

    The Rambam writes, “Should someone recite a pasuk as an incantation for a wound, or so that a child should stop crying, or he places tefillin next to a child so that he will sleep, not only is he in violation of the [prohibition against] forbidden incantations, but he is a denier of the Torah, for he makes the Torah into a healer of bodies when it is there to mend souls… However, a healthy person may recite pesukim or Tehillim to protect against future sufferings and prevent them from arising” (Hilchos Ovdei Kochavim 11:12).

    Rav Moshe Sternbuch posits that the answer must be that when we recite Tehillim for someone who is ill, we are asking Hashem to heal that person in the zechus of our Torah study, not simply because of the power of the pesukim (Shu”t Teshuvos V’hanhagos 1:121). For this reason, he explains, one should omit the line in the Yehi Ratzon stating, “In the merit of Tehillim, of the verses, words and letters” and say instead, “In the zechus of our davening to You through Tehillim, its pesukim, words and letters”; this way, we clarify that our intent is not to use the pesukim as a “magic potion.”

    Similarly, the Tzitz Eliezer (17:30) writes that one may learn Torah or daven for the benefit of his soul, even if he also wishes to heal a physical condition.

    We can add that the Midrash Tehillim famously teaches that Dovid Hamelechprayed that the recital of Tehillim should be equal to learning nega’im v’ohalos—the most difficult portions of Shas! Perhaps he too was concerned that people might use Tehillim as a type of “magical” segulah and he wanted to emphasize that we recite Tehillim as Torah study—and in that merit people would be healed.

    The last line in the Tzitz Eliezer is the one that is most critical. “Hanach lahen l’Yisrael, im ein nev’iim heim, bnei nevi’im heim—leave bnei Yisrael as they are, for if they are not prophets, then they are at least the children of prophets.”

    As I explained to the congregant who showed me the online halachah article about Tehillim, this line from the Tzitz Eliezer is the key. Mesorah is our greatest value, and we rarely question a mesorah of our gedolim,including a practice that they did not protest. This includes the practice of reciting Tehillim for an existing situation of need.

    The Debrecziner Rav was once asked if it is permissible to make eggs and onions on Shabbos, a common staple in my and many others’ homes, (Shu”t Be’er Moshe 5:44). The shoel’s concern was one of lush. His answer is illustrative of the way psak halachah often works.

    “It is mutar, and we may ignore the agitation raised by some who claim that making this dish violates the melachah of lush [kneading]. For have our forefathers not told us how they used to make this dish in front of gedoleiolam [on Shabbos]? And indeed, that was the custom of my sainted father and grandfather. Therefore, the matter is simple; it is allowed without any reservation.”

    Only after saying this did he go into the halachic particulars.

    If a practice was sanctioned by gedolim before us and is now widespread, it is rarely our place to call it into question. (For example, see a letter from Rav Gifter to Rav Henkin – in the recently published first volume of Rav Henkin’s teshuvos -questioning how the latter could forbid making Kiddush before tekias shofar when so many yeshivos did just that. See ibid. Rav Henkin’s response.)

    While the question of the recital of Tehillim is a fascinating one, we walk on dangerous ground should we even consider doing away with a practice that has been in use for generations.

    For further research on this topic, see also the yarchon ‘Ohr Yisroel’ #15, Rav Greenwald, for how long the Jewish people have been reciting Tehillim for the sick and as a zechus.

    May the zechus of abiding by our mesorah bring refuos and yeshuos to all in need.

    The Mystery of the ‘Forty Day’ Segula