Welcome to our daily study, dedicated to the complete recovery of Haim Rafael Ben Mazal. This session, number 67 in our series, is sponsored in loving memory of Sophie and Raymond Rahmo Braha, Rahmo Rahmin Ben Sara, Sara Sofia Batsalha, Joel M. Cohen, and Joseph Medina, and in honor of Cookie Cohen. Today is day 32 of our study.
Yesterday, we discussed guest etiquette, emphasizing the importance of acquiescing to the host. If the host asks you to do something, you generally should not argue. However, there are exceptions. If you maintain a personal stringency, such as avoiding a specific type of food or adhering to a particular practice, you are not obligated to abandon it at the host's request. But, if your practice is considered a form of piety or devotion, it might be appropriate to acquiesce and conceal your personal custom to avoid causing discomfort.
The Rama rules on a specific case: if a group is dining together and one person avoids eating bread baked by a non-Jewish baker (known as pat akum), even though the bread is technically kosher according to the Shulchan Aruch, he may eat it to avoid insulting others and creating strife. This leniency applies specifically to bread because it is a main component of the meal. It is crucial to stress that this leniency does not extend to other issues of kashrut. For instance, if someone is particular about eating only glatt meat, and others are eating non-glatt meat, he cannot compromise his standard to avoid embarrassing them. If meat is not glatt, it is not kosher, and therefore not permissible to eat.
The Shevtei Kohen elaborates on this principle. If a person avoids eating non-kosher non-Jewish butter and is dining with others who consume it, he may not eat it, even if it might insult his colleagues. This is because non-Jewish butter could be non-kosher, and certain things that are fundamentally forbidden by law cannot be compromised. Similarly, if a food lacks a reliable kashrut certification, or if one is careful about yashan (old grain) and relies on a stricter interpretation, while others rely on leniencies, this is not considered a mere stringency or act of piety. These are matters of fundamental law. Therefore, one must carefully analyze whether a practice is a personal stringency (mishkala hasidut) or a requirement of the law.
It is not always a mitzvah to publicize one's stringencies. Sometimes, it is better to act normally to avoid drawing attention. As Rabbi Berel Wein once noted, in 1492 Spain, the Conversos (Marranos) outwardly appeared Christian but secretly maintained their Jewish identity to survive the Inquisition. Today, he observed, we often see the reverse: people outwardly appear very religious, but their private conduct may not align with their public image. They display their stringencies in public, but at home, they may disregard basic practices. This is a "reverse Marrano" phenomenon, where one acts Jewish outside but acts carelessly inside.
There was a great rabbi who used to observe three-day fasts as a form of spiritual rectification. Once, with only two hours left on his third day of fasting, he was invited to a meal. His hosts offered him coffee and cookies. He considered whether to announce his fast and risk appearing boastful (ga'ava), or to break his fast. He concluded it was better to break the fast and eat, rather than succumb to pride. Similarly, a story is told of a student fasting in yeshiva. The rabbi, noticing his weakness, asked why he was fasting. The student replied, "For my sins." The rabbi wisely retorted, "You sin with your eyes, not your stomach. Stop looking at forbidden things. You sin with your mouth, not your stomach. Stop speaking evil. Your stomach is the innocent part of your body." The lesson is clear: one should not use religious practices to flaunt superiority, as pride (ga'ava) is a grave offense.
Great Kabbalists, when praying publicly, would intentionally pray the Amidah quickly, in about four minutes, to avoid appearing overly pious. While they were capable of intense concentration and could pray quickly, they did so in public to blend in. When alone, however, they would pray for extended periods. The key is intention: if one's religious observance is for public display, it is problematic. If you are fasting and sitting with people who are eating, you should generally keep your fast private. This applies to private fasts, not public fasts like on Shabbat, which is forbidden.
I recall an incident from my early married life. My wife and I were invited to dinner at the home of people we didn't know. It was Erev Rosh Chodesh, a day I used to fast. I discreetly informed the rabbi who arranged the invitation that I was fasting and asked him not to make a fuss. At the meal, a lavish breakfast was served. Unbeknownst to me, the host's daughter, Daniella, listened to my lectures and considered me an influencer. To avoid embarrassment, I pretended to eat, moving food around my plate. Years later, she asked why I hadn't eaten, wondering if I distrusted their kashrut. I explained I was fasting, but at the time, I chose not to reveal it to avoid embarrassing them. In retrospect, perhaps it would have been better to quickly explain my fast and eat a small amount to avoid embarrassing my hosts.
The Sefer Pesket HaShavuot explains that in earlier times, there was a suspicion that non-Jewish butter might contain non-kosher ingredients. Today, butter is generally kosher. The principle is that if the only issue is a personal preference for a particular kashrut certification, and others are eating food endorsed by a different, but valid, certification, one should not refuse to eat. For example, if you only eat food with a specific certification, but are offered food with a different, reputable certification, you should eat it. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein once demonstrated this subtly. Presented with two brands of milk, one with a specific certification (Golden Flow) and another (Ahava), he picked up the Golden Flow, put it down, and took the Ahava. Everyone assumed he deemed Golden Flow non-kosher, but when asked, he explained it was simply empty. This anecdote highlights how easily misunderstandings can arise from perceived stringencies.
Rabbi Lazer Silver, a formal and meticulous chief rabbi, always brought his own food to rabbinical meetings, even to Rabbi Moshe Feinstein's home, due to his strictness in kashrut. He once joked to Rabbi Feinstein, "It's okay, I trust your plates." Rabbi Feinstein's wife retorted, "I don't trust your chicken!" This emphasizes that one's personal stringencies should not impose on others or imply a lack of trust in their kashrut.
However, if there is a substantial basis for suspicion, the rule changes. I once experienced this when invited to a Shabbat meal at a random home. Being accustomed to eating at trusted homes, I hadn't thought to inquire about their butcher. Before dinner, I realized my oversight and asked my wife to discreetly find out. She returned with the name "Harvey's." I had never heard of it, and it didn't sound like a kosher butcher. After Shabbat, I called the butcher and discovered they only sold glatt meat upon request; otherwise, it was regular meat (basar basar), not necessarily kosher. Many Syrian families, unaware, purchased from him due to lower prices. We publicized this, and it turned out the meat was not kosher. In such a case, where the food is clearly not kosher, one cannot be cordial and eat it. You must politely decline, perhaps citing an upset stomach, but you do not negotiate on matters of fundamental kashrut.
Consider the issue of chadash (new grain). According to Maran (the Shulchan Aruch), grain that is chadash is absolutely forbidden until the Korban HaOmer is brought on the second day of Pesach. After Pesach, grain from the previous year becomes yashan (old) and permissible. However, new crops planted after Pesach become chadash again and are forbidden until the following Pesach. This means that for several months of the year, one must be careful to consume only yashan products. The Shulchan Aruch states this applies even outside of Israel.
However, there are leniencies. The Bayit Hadash rules that the prohibition of chadash does not apply outside of Israel. Furthermore, even if a host is not careful about chadash, the bread or grain products might still be made with kemah yashan (old flour). This creates a situation of safek safeka (a double doubt), which can sometimes allow for leniency. Yet, one should not simply ignore the problem of chadash. The Aklut Yosef recounted refusing cookies in Los Angeles because they might have contained chadash flour, as there was no host to insult in that instance.
Today, the issue of chadash is complicated by readily available information. There are apps and books that can identify, via product barcodes, when grain was planted, removing the element of doubt. If you know a product is chadash, you cannot rely on safek safeka. However, if you are a guest, and it is impractical to ascertain the status of the food, the rabbis permit relying on safek safeka, considering the opinions of the Bayit Hadash and the possibility of yashan flour. This leniency is for guests to avoid embarrassment, not for one's regular practice at home, where one should be strict.
It's important to note that many Ashkenazic communities (Na'ash Kerezeem) hold that chadash only applies in Israel, and therefore do not have this concern. However, Sephardic communities follow the Shulchan Aruch, which considers it a problem everywhere. Pizza shops and bakeries often stock up on flour after Pesach to ensure their products are yashan, but not all products are guaranteed to be so.
Similarly, regarding halav Yisrael (Jewish-supervised milk), if a guest is served regular dairy products by a host who relies on leniencies, but it's possible the food is actually halav Yisrael, the guest may rely on safek safeka and eat. Even if it's not halav Yisrael, some, like Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, were lenient regarding regular milk in countries with strict government regulations (like the FDA). Thus, if a host offers milk, and you are unsure, you can rely on safek safeka and drink it without asking, to avoid embarrassment. Again, this applies to guests; at home, one should ascertain the kashrut status.
The most striking ruling is regarding meat: if a guest is served meat and does not know if it is glatt, he may rely on safek safeka and eat it. This is a significant leniency. In my "Harvey's" anecdote, had I relied on safek safeka, I would have eaten potentially non-kosher meat. Thankfully, I did not. The concept of safek safeka here would imply a doubt about whether the meat is glatt, and a doubt about whether one needs to eat glatt. However, if the meat is not even kosher, it is not a matter of glatt but of being forbidden.
The Chafetz Chaim, known for his compassion, would host poor guests on Friday nights. He would shorten the customary prayers and songs to ensure his guests, who were hungry, could eat promptly. This highlights the host's responsibility to ensure guests are comfortable and fed. Conversely, a guest should not make demands or ask when dinner will be served. Once food is presented, however, a guest does not need to wait for explicit permission to eat.
A fascinating halakha states that guests in a home cannot give food from their host's provisions to the household staff without permission. This is because the food belongs to the host, and giving it away without consent is akin to stealing. This principle extends to restaurants: if a waiter gives you extra food or drinks "on the house" without the owner's knowledge, you are participating in a form of theft against the owner. You should ask if the waiter has permission to offer such complimentary items. The food is not truly "free"; someone is paying for it, and if the owner is unaware, they are being defrauded.
Similarly, at weddings or large events, while it is common for guests to take home extra food, especially for the needy, a guest who is not poor should not take large quantities of food home. Taking an extra cookie or a small item for the road is generally acceptable, but clearing out a dessert table is considered improper and akin to stealing from the host, who has paid for the food. Taking flowers that would otherwise be discarded is different, as it prevents waste. But taking extra food beyond what is reasonable for personal consumption at the event is problematic.
Note 287 discusses a tragic episode that led to the institution of the rule against guests giving food to household members. During a famine, a host invited three guests, having only a small amount of bread. While the host was briefly absent, his hungry son approached the guests. Out of pity, each guest gave the boy a portion of their bread. When the host returned and found his son with all the bread, realizing he had nothing left for his guests, he became enraged and killed his son. His wife, distraught, committed suicide, and the host then took his own life. The Sages instituted the rule to prevent such embarrassment and its potentially tragic consequences. The Acharonim clarify that this rule applies only when the host has limited supplies. If there is ample food, or if the guest has finished eating and is giving away leftovers, it is not an issue.