By Rabbi Hayim Asher Arking and Rabbi Ezra Ghodsi

In what ways can a Jew’s wine become forbidden?

There are four ways wine can become stam yeinam and therefore forbidden:

1.   Touching: The actual wine was touched by a non-Jew, whether by hand, by mouth (such as when drinking from a bottle), or with any other part of the body. This can apply even if they touched the wine with an object they were holding.

2. Agitating/Shaking (shichshuch): The wine was agitated by a non-Jew, even if they only shook the cup or bottle without touching the liquid directly. Since agitating/shaking wine was a form of idol worship, this action renders the wine forbidden.

3.  Pouring (kocho): The wine was poured by a non-Jew, regardless of whether it was agitated/shaken. This principle is not limited to pouring; it applies to any wine displaced or moved from its container by a non-Jew.

4.   A Connecting Stream (nitzok): The wine was connected to non-kosher wine, such as through a continuous stream during pouring.

If a waiter carried an open bottle of wine, may we still drink it?

Although wine touched by a non-Jew becomes forbidden, simply touching the outside of a bottle does not affect its status. However, one should not allow a non-Jewish waiter to move or even lift an open bottle. As previously explained, the wine can still become forbidden if it is “shaken” (shichshuch), even if no wine is actually poured. Similarly, if a non-Jew carries an open bottle or cup, the wine would generally be forbidden, as the act of walking naturally causes the liquid to shake. Due to the nuanced nature of these laws, case-specific details can make a difference, and one should consult a rabbi if such a situation arises.

What if I left a bottle of wine in the fridge and the maid moved it?

Wine only becomes forbidden through “shaking” if the wine is uncovered. However, if the bottle is covered, even if not sealed, “shaking” is no longer an issue. Therefore, as long as there was a bottle stopper or a partially replaced cork, the wine remains permitted.

This is only true if there is no concern the bottle was opened by the non-Jew. While it may be acceptable for the Jew to be in another room and leave a maid or waiter around a covered non-mevushal bottle, two conditions must be met. First, the Jew can walk back in unexpectedly (yotzei ve’nechnas). Second, the non-Jew must know they are not allowed to handle the wine, which in some cases may require them being clearly instructed not to do so.

However, leaving a non-Jew in the house alone, even with the possibility of an “unexpected” return, may no longer provide a sufficient deterrent. For instance, a maid or worker may be familiar enough with one’s daily schedule to know when they can handle the wine without any risk of someone returning. Likewise, a window might allow them to watch for someone arriving, providing enough time to handle the wine and return it to its place without being caught. In certain situations, cameras can serve as an effective deterrent, if the person knows they are being filmed and that someone is actually reviewing the footage.

What if a non-Jew poured wine into a cup?

In this case, both the wine in the cup and the wine remaining in the bottle become forbidden. The wine in the cup is rendered forbidden by the act of pouring (kocho), while the wine in the bottle becomes forbidden because the continuous stream connects it to the wine in the cup (nitzok).

Can a Jew pour wine into a cup held by a non-Jew?

The concept of nitzok applies even if the one pouring is Jewish. For example, if a Jew pours wine into a cup containing remnants of wine previously handled by a non-Jew, the entire bottle becomes forbidden. Furthermore, even if starting with a clean cup, the non-Jew may move or tilt the cup while the wine is being poured. This would render the wine in the cup forbidden because of the “shaking,” and in turn, render the wine in the bottle forbidden through the continuous stream.

What is the proper way to store a bottle of wine when it will be left with a non-Jew?

In general, there are two levels of security when leaving kosher food unsupervised. For foods that carry a Biblical prohibition if switched, such as non-kosher meat or fish, a double-seal is required. For foods involving a rabbinic prohibition, such as bread or cheese, a single seal suffices. Although the prohibition regarding wine is rabbinic, it is treated with greater stringency and therefore requires a double seal.

A practical way to create this is to tape a plastic bag over the bottle and write Hebrew letters (or one’s signature) across the edges of the tape and onto the bag. Writing two letters across the seam satisfies the requirement for a double seal, as each individual letter counts as its own seal. For this to be effective, the seal must be set up in a way that, if someone attempts to peel back the tape, it would cause the characters to misalign, and it would be difficult to restore the letters perfectly.

Alternatively, one can hide the bottle in a place where it is highly unlikely it will be noticed by a maid or other non-Jewish workers. This can be a practical solution for Shabbat and yom tov when making the above double seal is not feasible.

Do these laws also apply to a Jew who is not shomer Shabbat?

While the laws of stam yeinam generally extend to those who are not shomer Shabbat, the restrictions actually take a significant “step down” in severity compared to those involving a non-Jew. For example, if a non-shomer Shabbat individual touches the wine, it is forbidden to drink it, however, one may still derive benefit from it. (On a side note, this leniency also applies if a Muslim handles non-mevushal wine.) When hosting friends or family who may not be shomer Shabbat, it is preferable to only use mevushal wine. As this is not always an option, there are specific leniencies that are important to be aware of. For instance, if an open bottle was accidentally moved by a non-shomer Shabbat individual, the wine remains permitted. Furthermore, many say that the laws of nitzok (the “connection” between the stream and the bottle), do not apply to a non-shomer Shabbat individual. Accordingly, if they pour wine into a cup, only the wine that was poured becomes forbidden to drink (kocho), while the wine remaining in the bottle remains permitted.

“I am living on two parallel tracks of responsibility. Professionally, I work in the political sphere, helping thoughtful and principled people I believe in step into leadership, because who holds office truly shapes the world our children and grandchildren will inherit. Spiritually, my work is about something deeper: helping create a world with more inner strength, more faith, and more refined character.”  ~ Linda Sadacka

Ellen Geller Kamaras

Please meet Linda Argalgi Sadacka, who was interviewed for this column (formerly Woman to Woman) back in 2017. She was featured as the founder of Moms on a Mitzvah, a grassroots hesed initiative she launched in 2013. Clearly, she possessed incredible energy and a sense of responsibility to the community. Today, that work continues. Linda is a writer, political activist, and community leader. She is the CEO of the New York Jewish Council and is the founder of Chasdei David, Inc., a public non-profit hesed organization based in Brooklyn that focuses on education services and educational exchanges.

Raised in Montreal in a traditional home, Linda’s spiritual path deepened in her youth and shaped the course of her life. Linda was deeply affected by the murder of her brother’s close friend, IDF soldier Jason Friedberg by Hamas, which profoundly strengthened her lifelong commitment to Jewish responsibility and to Israel. In the years that followed, Linda became active in communal advocacy and writing on behalf of Jewish causes.

One widely-known campaign that drew national attention mobilized more than 100,000 signatures to secure a compassionate-use FDA exemption for a terminally ill young man. This exemption allows patients with serious or life-threatening diseases to access medical treatment that is not yet FDA approved. After marrying and settling in Brooklyn, Linda’s focus shifted toward structured communal hesed alongside broader advocacy. That early activism laid the groundwork for her current multifaceted role.

Linda Evolves

Today, more than eight years later, Linda is still deeply involved in hesed and communal advocacy, and has expanded her work to include political strategy, writing, teaching, and producing her podcast “The Silent Revolution,” which focuses on culture, leadership, faith, and public discourse.   

Linda, now a grandmother, describes herself as purpose-driven, principled, compassionate, grounded, and resilient. “I am more intentional than I was years ago.”

Linda clearly articulates that her life is guided by Torah and her decisions are reached through employing her strong emunah.  “Whether I am in a classroom or a room with public officials and world leaders, people know exactly who I am.”

Writing, Teaching, and Advocacy

Alongside her hesed and advocacy, Linda continued to write and began teaching. Her articles have appeared in The Jerusalem Post, Jewish News Syndicate, Jewish Image Magazine, and local publications. “Writing is another form of education,” Linda explains. “It helps people think more clearly, stay informed, and make better decisions in an increasingly complicated world.”

Professionally, however, Linda is most proud of her teaching. She teaches classes on the laws of lashon hara – proper speech – a subject she feels deeply passionate about.

Advocacy

Communal advocacy, outreach, and using her voice are Linda’s other tools to achieve her goal of creating a robust future for our community.

Linda currently serves as a political strategist, actively advising and helping elect candidates whose values align with hers and the community’s. 

Linda considers her work as a modern form of kiruv, done carefully, within boundaries and with accountability.  Linda has worked behind the scenes in helping thoughtful, principled people step into public leadership roles. She moves through many different spaces, in rooms of influence, in government, in areas of communal leadership, and in other arenas that shape real outcomes, opening doors where possible. 

Much of her political work is done quietly, behind the scenes, protecting her family’s privacy. 

Linda attended this past year’s White House Hanukah evening reception, which included major donors, such as Miriam Adelson, and senior administrative officials including Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, lawmakers from both parties, ambassadors, and figures shaping both the present and future political landscape. Given the exclusivity of the party, Linda recognized that this was not a casual social gathering. 

President Donald Trump spoke about rising anti-Semitism and the cultural pressures facing the Jewish community. At one point, Linda observed that for every person in the room many more had wanted to attend and could not.  Linda commented, “I was aware that I was the sole representative from my community present, and I carried that responsibility consciously.”  Her conversations that evening were purposeful and allowed her to reinforce significant relationships.

Family and Balance

“Learning how to hold spiritual growth, public responsibility, creative work, and family life with steadiness and intention,” is how Linda maintains her balance.

Family remains Linda’s top priority, and everything she does reflects her commitment to her family. The pride she takes in her children’s derech eretz and yirat Shamayim surpasses everything else. She is deeply grateful for her husband, Dr. Jack Sadacka, whose steadiness and values are the foundation of their home. “Any good I have been able to do publicly is rooted in that quiet strength.”

Time is Linda’s greatest challenge. She gets off to a very early start, allowing her to move through her day with clarity and calm. Downtime is rare, but when it comes, Linda tries to be intentional: unhurried conversations, shared meals, and time with children and grandchildren. “That kind of quiet time, even in small doses, restores me more than anything else.” Linda’s home remains her anchor.

Mentors

Since Linda’s seminary days in Canada, Rebbetzin Feldbrand, a renowned educator and author, has been a constant source of clarity and strength for many years. Linda also became close to Rabbi Yitzchak Cohen, a mekubal who spent time in the community for medical treatment. She values his spiritual guidance.

Linda was deeply moved to receive encouragement and blessings for her classes from Rabbi Yitzchak David Grossman, known as the “Disco Rabbi,” for his entrance into the Friday night discos to connect with young Jews in Migdal HaEmek in the north of Israel. He is the founder and dean of Migdal Ohr educational institutions, established in 1972 to provide education and social guidance to children from underprivileged and troubled homes in Israel.

Parting Words

Linda is actively recruiting more volunteers, as the need is real and ongoing.

“In many ways,” Linda reflects, “everything I do publicly is my hishtadlut to leave behind a world that is steadier, kinder, and more rooted than the one I entered and to protect the future.  Spiritually, my work is about something deeper: helping create a world with more inner strength, more faith, and more refined character.”Ellen Geller Kamaras, CPA/MBA, is an International Coach Federation (ICF) Associate Certified Coach. Ellen can be contacted at ellen.kamaras@gmail.com (www.lifecoachellen.com).

By Simha Health in Conversation with Rabbi Dr. Jonathan Schwartz

As we approach the holiday of Pesah, our homes often transform into hubs of intense activity. From the rigorous cleaning and scouring for hametz to the logistical gymnastics of hosting, it is a season of profound beauty but also one of significant stress. For many in our community, this stress goes beyond simple holiday jitters, often touching on deeper struggles with anxiety and religious Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), also known as scrupulosity.

In a recent community event hosted by the Simha organization, Rabbi Dr. Jonathan Schwartz, Clinical Director of the Center for Anxiety Relief, shared vital insights on how to balance religious devotion with mental well-being.

Understanding Scrupulosity: The Doubting Disease

A common question arises this time of year: how do we distinguish between someone who is deeply devoted to religious practice and someone struggling with religious OCD? Dr. Schwartz explains that emotional disorders often exist on a continuum. While a devoted person might spend extra time in prayer or cleaning out of a sense of connection and peace, a person with OCD is driven by what is often called the doubting disease.

In religious OCD, an individual experiences intense anxiety around specific thoughts, or obsessions, such as the fear that they didn’t clean a room well enough or didn’t pronounce a word in prayer correctly. To mitigate this terror, they perform repetitive behaviors or compulsions. These acts are not performed for the sake of the mitzvah or to connect with Hashem; rather, they are a desperate attempt to escape the discomfort of uncertainty.

The Trap: Strengthening the Validity of the Doubt

A hallmark of religious OCD is the constant need for reassurance. Individuals may consult multiple rabbis, family members, or teachers to ask the same questions repeatedly in hopes of feeling sure. However, this seeking of reassurance actually fuels the disorder.

When a person repeatedly asks for confirmation that they have done enough, they are inadvertently strengthening the validity of the doubt. Each time they seek reassurance to escape anxiety, the brain learns that the initial doubt was a legitimate threat that required action. This trains the individual to rely on external validation rather than the clear guidelines provided by the law. Instead of finding peace, the person becomes more trapped, as the anxiety will eventually demand even more certainty, pushing the individual to go a drop more just to be sure.

Re-framing the Approach: Awareness Over Uncertainty

One of the most effective tools for managing scrupulosity is shifting the perspective from doing more to doing what is required. Instead of seeking more stringencies to feel safe, Dr. Schwartz suggests that one should be aware of what one does not have to do, such as in the case of a chumra. Halakha provides clear boundaries designed to protect our peace of mind. Concepts like bittul and selling hametz are specifically meant to cover concerns that the human eye cannot see. Dr. Schwartz emphasizes that sticking to the specific rules given by a single authority is actually an essential part of the mitzvah itself. Individuals should rely on finite, defined rules and then move on.

Reclaiming the Simha

The word simha means joy, and Pesach is referred to as Zman Simhateinu, the time of our happiness. Dr. Schwartz notes that we often have it backwards, becoming somber and anxious when we should be joyful.

The goal of Pesach is not a shot at perfection that leaves us depleted. Rather, the holidays are meant to charge our batteries for the rest of the year. By focusing on the simha and the kashrut in equal measure, we fulfill the will of Hashem while maintaining our mental health. As you prepare your homes, remember that a kosher Pesach requires a healthy mind as much as a clean kitchen.

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If you or a loved one are struggling with mental health, the Simha organization provides a database of vetted therapists and specialists to guide you toward the right support. For more information, contact office@simhahealth.org.

Linda Argalgi Sadacka

Before serving on the New York City Council, Simcha Felder spent many years in the state senate, where he became known for his focus on local governance and quality-of-life issues affecting his constituents in the 22^nd Senate District. In 2022, during his tenure as a state senator, he came to my home to present a Woman of Distinction award in recognition of my work in the community. The visit offered an opportunity to meet his staff and hear about the challenges facing our neighborhoods. I was struck by the seriousness, discipline, and clear commitment to serving constituents exhibited by both Felder and his staff members.

MOCA – A Mixed Bag

Earlier this month, New York City announced the appointment of Phylisa Wisdom to lead the Mayor’s Office to Combat Anti-Semitism, known as MOCA. The office was created in response to rising anti-Semitic incidents across the city, particularly following the surge in hate crimes and communal anxiety after October 7.

On paper, MOCA’s mission is straightforward: coordinate policy, strengthen protections, and address anti-Semitism at a citywide level. But for many in the Orthodox Jewish community, the appointment raised deeper questions – not simply about one individual, but about representation, process, and trust.

Councilman Simcha Felder has been among the most outspoken voices on the issue. He  described the appointment as a “shanda” (Yiddish for something scandalously shameful).

That is strong language. He does not apologize for it.

“I’m not saying every administration has to include this one or that one,” Felder said. “But when you look at the numbers and see that Orthodox Jews are, by far, the greatest recipients of anti-Semitic attacks, it’s just common sense that [individuals with] their perspective should be represented.”

Visibility Exploited

Felder’s argument is grounded in a simple reality: visibility.

“If somebody gets on a train with a yarmulke,” he said, “and with a beard even more… it’s a very simple calculation [that this man is Jewish].”

Visibly Orthodox Jews do not blend in. Their Jewish identity is not theoretical. It is apparent. And when anti-Semitism manifests physically, it disproportionately targets those who are most visibly Jewish.

For Felder, any office created to combat anti-Semitism must begin with that lived experience.

Phylisa Wisdom’s Record

The new MOCA director previously worked at YAFFED, an organization that has been sharply critical of aspects of the yeshiva education system. That background, Felder argues, matters at a time when trust between City Hall and Orthodox communities is already strained.

Wisdom’s prior role at YAFFED is central to the concern. YAFFED has advocated for increased state oversight of yeshivas and has publicly challenged elements of Orthodox education. Many within the Orthodox community view the organization not simply as reform-oriented, but as adversarial – targeting institutions they consider foundational to Jewish religious life. For families who have experienced years of investigations, scrutiny, and political pressure surrounding their schools, that history is not abstract. It shapes their perception. When leadership of an office tasked with combating anti-Semitism comes from an organization that many Orthodox Jews feel worked against their core communal institutions, the issue becomes one of credibility. Trust, once strained, cannot be rebuilt by title alone.

The concern, as Felder frames it, is not personal. It is structural.

“This is not about rhetoric,” he emphasized. “It’s about responsibility.”

Felder Speaks Out

Felder recalls telling the mayor that he would prefer not to publicly criticize City Hall. “I would prefer not having to comment about anything that goes on,” he said. “But if somebody does something that’s outrageous… I have no choice but to respond. Not responding [by being  silent] is agreement.”

He is aware that speaking bluntly can carry political consequences. But retaliation, he suggested, cannot dictate principle.

“There’s always somebody around that would like to hurt me,” he said, “no matter what I say or don’t say. So, I cannot be concerned with that.”

The deeper issue, in his view, is representation.

Who defines anti-Semitism? Who shapes policy? And who is consulted before major appointments are made?

For Felder, visibly religious Jews must not be sidelined in those conversations. They are not an abstract constituency. They are the people most frequently encountering anti-Semitism on sidewalks, in parks, and on public transportation.

Confronting the Current Reality

Ora Sheri Toiv, Senior Advisor, framed the issue in broader terms.

“This conversation is not about rhetoric,” she said. “It’s about whether New York City is positioned to meet the current moment with clarity and seriousness.”

That clarity, Felder believes, requires acknowledging the reality on the ground.

At the same time, he draws a careful distinction between city governance and broader political debates. Before first running for office, a mentor gave him advice he has never forgotten.

Felder’s Mandate

“You are not the prime minister,” the rabbi told him. “If you are a city councilman, make sure the garbage gets picked up. Make sure the buses have better routes. Don’t louse up transportation.”

That guidance still shapes his approach.

“It is not by the constitution of the city,” Felder said, “that the job is to run foreign policy. The job is to make sure sanitation works, transportation works, playgrounds are built.”

In his district, he points to tangible improvements: parks constructed with tax dollars, infrastructure upgrades, quality-of-life interventions. Governance, he believes, must focus relentlessly on what directly affects families day-to-day.

But anti-Semitism is not separate from our quality of life. It is central to it.

Prioritize NYPD Resources

When asked what concrete measures the city should prioritize immediately, Felder’s answered: more NYPD resources.

“Additional NYPD resources are absolutely necessary,” he said. Felder has advocated for increased policing since the Mayor De Blasio era, often, he notes, as a lone voice. He acknowledged that Speaker Menin recognizes the need for stronger enforcement, but Felder stresses that recognition must translate into deployment.

Swastikas defacing yeshivas. Jewish cemeteries vandalized. “The other week,” Felder noted, “we had 100 swastikas at Gravesend Playground.”

These are not symbolic incidents. They are visible reminders of vulnerability.

The debate over MOCA cannot be divorced from this reality.

Governor Hochul Stands Back

Felder also addressed criticism surrounding the invitation extended to Governor Kathy Hochul following the anti-Semitic vandalism. He emphasized that the issue was not about personalities, but about the governor’s authenticity.

“Why didn’t the governor want to be photographed at the Magen David Yeshivah that was defaced with swastikas?” Felder asked. “It wasn’t a problem with distance. It’s literally right there.”

He argued that the visit felt curated, avoiding visible evidence of the anti-Semitic damage.

“She wanted a political photo-op that showed no evidence of the vandalism we dealt with that day,” Felder said. “I find that hypocritical.”

This Too Shall Pass

For readers who feel anxious or powerless, Felder offers neither denial nor despair.

“Gam zeh ya’avor,” he said. This too shall pass.

Felder points to history. “NYC has been in the dumps before,” he said. “And we’ve seen a really great mayor, like Rudy Giuliani for example, come in and turn things around.”

Change, in his view, is possible. But it requires engagement.

Get Involved

“People who want to have a direct say in how things are run in their neighborhood should go to their Community Board meetings,” Felder said. “Go to NYPD precinct council meetings. These are the places where every day people can show up and have a direct say.”

Felder has actively recruited community members to serve on local boards. Representation, he argues, begins locally.

For Felder, civic participation is key.

“Vote,” he said. “I would go so far as to say it is a sin not to vote.”

Trust between communities and government is fragile. If Jewish New Yorkers begin to lose confidence in institutions meant to protect them, the consequences extend beyond policy.

“Our government is a government of the people, by the people, and for the people,” Felder said. “They can only do the things we fear if we let them.”

Silence, he suggests, empowers overreach. Engagement restrains it.

Address Anti-Semitism Properly

Referring to the appointment of an anti-Semitism “czar,” Felder recalled a famous exchange from Fiddler on the Roof when a villager askes, “Rabbi, is there a proper blessing for the Czar?” The rabbi responds, “… Of course! May Gd bless and keep the Czar… far away from us!”

It was delivered with humor. But the underlying message was serious.

Institutions created to combat anti-Semitism must build trust, not deepen suspicion.

New York is home to one of the largest Jewish populations in the world outside of Israel. The stakes are not small. When anti-Semitism rises here, it reverberates far beyond city limits.

The creation of MOCA acknowledged that the problem is urgent. The debate surrounding its leadership reflects something equally significant: the Jewish community is engaged.

And in a city like New York, engagement is leverage.

The Path Forward

The path forward, Felder believes, is twofold. Speak clearly when necessary. Focus relentlessly on quality of life. Show up. Vote. Serve.

“If it hurts, you scream,” he said. “You don’t think about it.”

But after the scream comes the work.

Sanitation. Policing. Representation. Budget priorities. Civic participation.

Combating anti-Semitism in New York is not a slogan. It is a test of governance. And governance, at its core, is about whether the people who feel exposed and vulnerable believe their city is standing with them – not in theory, but in practice.

Rabbi Yehuda Finchas

Nearly 15,000 nurses across New York City launched a strike on January 12, 2026, making it one of the largest nursing strikes in the city’s history. The strike lasted over three weeks. What does the halacha say about healthcare workers who withhold their labor – not for higher pay alone, but for the ability to provide safe care?

Medicine Demands Fair Compensation

The Gemara establishes that asia d’magan b’magan magan shaveh – “a physician who works for free is worth nothing.” The Rosh explains: “When the doctor does not receive payment, his heart and mind are not meticulous regarding the core needs of the patient.” Hacham Eliyahu Bakshi Doron (Responsa Binyan Av 3:69)  therefore rules: “The public are obliged to pay appropriate salaries to physicians and allow them to focus on their holy work.” Medicine performed under duress is inherently compromised medicine.

The New York nurses’ argument introduces precisely this nuance: the status quo itself was dangerous. If nurses working under a broken system cannot provide necessary care, then the strike changes from abandonment to preservation – fighting for conditions necessary to fulfill the mitzvah of healing.

The Children of Israel Are Servants to Me

Hacham Eliyahu Bakshi Doron discusses medical strikes at length. He explains this halacha stems from the principle that every employee has the right to stand up for their freedom, and the employer has no power to prevent them from doing so. The Shulhan Aruch writes that “a worker may retract even in the middle of the day” (Choshen Mishpat 333:1). Even if already paid, they may cease work, with the money becoming a debt. The reason: “For the Children of Israel are servants to Me” (Vayikra 25:55) and not servants to servants. This prevents employment from becoming a form of inescapable servitude. Work performed under coercion is slavery, forbidden regardless of economic agreements. Hacham Ovadia Yosef, zt”l, (Yechaveh Da’at 4:48) acknowledges that “the minhag hamdina, the custom of the land, is to strike.” But it does not apply in all situations.

The Red Line: Pikuach Nefesh

Hacham Ovadia Yosef, while permitting teachers to strike under certain conditions, draws a sharp line regarding healthcare. In Yechaveh Da’at IV:48, he writes explicitly that the permission to strike applies “except for matters involving life-saving measures, such as hospital services.” Pikuach nefesh (saving a life) overrides nearly every other commandment. Hacham Bakshi-Doron reinforces this in Binyan Av, arguing that a doctor or nurse is bound by the negative commandment, “Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor.” From this perspective, abandoning a patient in immediate danger is akin to bloodshed. No financial grievance or administrative dispute can justify leaving an ICU bed unmonitored.

Medicine as Mitzvah, Not Merely Profession

Hacham Bakshi Doron writes that the medical worker is not a servant of the hospital, but is a servant of Hashem – tasked with the mitzvah of healing. “Medicine is not a profession but a mitzvah, the most sublime mitzvah of saving lives. If they are forbidden to strike, they are indeed slaves – but slaves to the Holy One, Blessed be He.” A caregiver devoted to saving life is no servant to man – “there is no freer person than one who serves Hashem.”

Some argue medical strikes ultimately improve healthcare by forcing better conditions. This must be absolutely rejected. The principle is ironclad: ein dochin nefesh mipnei nefesh – we do not push aside one life for another. There is no halachic justification for withholding lifesaving care from patients before us, even to save more patients in the future. Each nefesh has infinite value; mathematical comparisons are meaningless.

Conclusion

Nurses and physicians are entitled – indeed obligated – to demand conditions that allow them to practice medicine responsibly and with yishuv hada’at. A system that exhausts its caregivers violates human dignity and ultimately endangers life. Yet the red line remains immovable: wherever pikuach nefesh is present, the duty to heal overrides every tactical consideration. The halachic mandate is disciplined protest – one that preserves emergency care, protects the vulnerable, and refuses to turn human lives into bargaining chips. In this balance, halacha affirms both truths at once: the caregiver is not a slave to institutions, and the patient is never abandoned. Rabbi Yehuda Finchas is a worldwide expert, lecturer, and author on Medical Halacha. He heads the Torat Habayit Medical Halacha Institute. He is the author of “Brain Death in Halacha and the Tower of Babel Syndrome” and “Nutrition and Hydration in Halacha.” To contact Rabbi Finchas, email rabbi@torathabayit.com.

HABAYIT: Providing Hesed Apartments and Comfort for Families Coming to New York for Critical Medical Treatment

Sometimes, everything changes with one step – not a grand gesture or a carefully planned move, but one small decision made in a moment of need.

No one plans for the moment when life takes an unexpected turn.

A diagnosis, a treatment plan, or an urgent medical need can send someone – or someone they love – across cities and countries to New York for critical treatment or surgery. Routine gives way to uncertainty, and families find themselves navigating unfamiliar ground.

And then, as the reality begins to settle in, a pressing question appears: Where will we stay?

Habayit was born out of that question. Not from a master plan, funding, or an organization already in place – but from one small, brave decision.

The First Step

A small group of real estate agents found themselves receiving the same call again and again. Families arrived in New York during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives, exhausted and overwhelmed, far from home and desperate to find a place to stay. Short-term housing was nearly impossible to secure, and hotels were both unaffordable and impractical.

So they took one step.

They opened one hesed apartment for people who needed to come to New York for medical treatment – a furnished, dignified place where individuals and families could stay while focusing on healing.

There were no big expectations. The group of real estate agents believed they might be able to sustain one apartment – one family at a time. But the moment the need was shared, something extraordinary happened.

Other Steps

The community showed up.

Beds arrived. Sheets were dropped off. Pots and pans, furniture, toys, mezuzot, and sefarim followed. Volunteers stepped forward quietly and generously, transforming an empty space into a true home.

And then, one step led to another.

Our sages teach, “Open for Me an opening the size of a needle’s eye, and I will open for you an opening like the entrance of a great hall.”

When a person takes even the smallest step toward kindness, Heaven expands that step far beyond what we could accomplish alone. Habayit began with one small opening – and Hashem opened the doors.

Four Years In

Today, just four years later, Habayit has grown from that single apartment into 17 fully furnished hesed apartments, powered by hundreds of devoted volunteers and helping hundreds of families from around the world.

Families have come to New York from Israel, Panama, Mexico, London, Canada, Argentina, Venezuela, Brazil, and from many states across the United States – all in search of life-saving medical treatments. They arrived frightened and uncertain and found themselves held, supported, and cared for at the very moment they needed it most.

Sometimes, the impact of that care reaches even further. Over the years, Habayit has had the profound merit of welcoming four “Habayit babies” – children born to couples who came to New York for fertility treatments and were able to stay because they had a place to call home.

A Legacy of Kindness

At its core, Habayit is about dignity, sensitivity, and quiet hesed. The organization was founded in memory of the Baal Shem of Michelstadt, whose life was defined by compassion, generosity, and kindness towards all. That legacy lives on through every apartment prepared, every family welcomed, and every step taken on behalf of someone in need.

But Habayit’s story is not only about growth. It is about moments – moments when one seemingly small action quietly changed the course of a life.

Last year, Community Magazine published an article about Habayit. In one paragraph, it mentioned a painful reality – families who needed to come to New York for life-saving medical treatment, but there were not enough apartments to accommodate them.

Another Quiet Response

Among the readers was a man who took that paragraph to heart.

After reading the article, he reached out to Habayit. He explained that he had a fully set-up apartment. He didn’t need it at the time. If Habayit was ever full, he wanted them to have his number – just in case someone else might need a place to stay.

Nothing dramatic happened that day. There was no fanfare – just a reader who saw a need and chose to take one step.

A couple of months later, Habayit received another call – this time from a man who had come to New York from Israel for stage-four cancer treatment. Nearly seventy years old and alone, he had spent hours calling Jewish organizations, unable to find a place to stay. By Friday morning, he believed he would be sleeping on the street.

When he reached Habayit, there were no apartments available. All were full. But, because one man had read that article months earlier and acted, there was another option. He was given that phone number.

What happened next is best told in his own words.

A Letter Written to Habayit

The following letter was written by Yosef (name changed for privacy):

My name is Yosef. I came to New York from Israel to be treated for stage-four cancer.

I am almost seventy years old and could not afford to stay in a hotel while receiving treatment. One Friday morning, I spent three hours calling Jewish organizations, asking for help finding a place to stay. I was unsuccessful and did not know where to turn. Sleeping on the street felt like my only option.

I have no relatives in New York. Each call led me somewhere else, and it became clear I had nowhere to go.

When I spoke with someone from Habayit, I was given the phone number of a family who might be able to help. By then, I had very little hope left. Still, I called.

A man answered. After hearing my situation, he immediately told me that he and his wife were inviting me into their home.

I took the subway and arrived at their house. I was shown a private room and told I could stay as long as I needed. That was the first time I cried since being diagnosed with terminal cancer.

I am not a religious person, and I do not remember crying since childhood. Being welcomed by a Jewish family who had never met me before was overwhelming.

That Friday night, I sat at their Shabbat table. Only hours earlier, I believed I would be sleeping on the street. The warmth, kindness, and generosity I experienced is something I will never forget.

Thank you and Shabbat Shalom,

Yosef

A Series of Small Steps

That life was changed through a series of small steps.

Community Magazine shared the story. One reader carried it in his heart and responded. And through those quiet choices, a man who feared sleeping on the street found warmth, dignity, and a place at a Shabbat table.

But his story is only one glimpse into the quiet ways small acts of hesed reshape lives. There was another moment – different in setting, but identical in spirit.

At a summer Habayit event, Rabbi Shlomo Farhi spoke about the quiet work being done behind the scenes – the phone calls, the apartments, the families arriving in need. By the time he finished speaking, there were tears throughout the room.

Before leaving, he added one more sentence. He explained that there was an urgent need for an apartment near Sloan Kettering. Families were coming for treatment, and there was simply nowhere for them to stay.

A few days later, the phone rang.

Someone who had heard about the urgent need reached out. The message had stayed with her. She explained that she had a furnished apartment right near Sloan Kettering and that Habayit was welcome to use it.

Within days, a family moved in. In the middle of fear and uncertainty, they had a place to stay. Since then, it has served as a safe haven for dozens of families whose loved ones were undergoing life-saving treatments.

Rabbi Farhi’s words did not end when the event was over. They traveled beyond the room, reaching a woman who chose to act. One small step – offering an apartment – became comfort, stability, and dignity for families in their most vulnerable moments.

A High Schooler Steps Up

Another time, the step seemed even smaller.

A high-school intern came to help at Habayit for the day. There were no urgent calls or emergencies. Instead of leaving early, he chose to organize the warehouse, which had become so crowded that it was difficult to move through. By the time he finished, everything was accessible and in its place.

That night, the phone rang.

A 36-year-old man from Panama had received devastating news from his doctors: if he did not get to New York immediately, he would not survive. He was flown in on an emergency medical evacuation flight and rushed straight to the hospital upon arrival. His family needed a place to stay – immediately.

Habayit had no available apartments. Brooklyn was full. Manhattan was full. Every other organization was full. There was only one option: an apartment that had not yet been set up.

Because the warehouse had been organized earlier that day, the team could immediately reach what they needed. Volunteers came running. Furniture was moved. Food was brought. Essentials were gathered.

By early evening, the apartment was no longer empty. The fridge was stocked. The beds were made. The space felt like a home.

While the man was in the hospital, his family arrived exhausted and terrified – and they had somewhere safe to walk into.

That life was saved because one small step had been taken earlier.

The Quiet Miracle

This is the quiet miracle of Habayit.

An organization built not on buildings, but on people. Volunteers who answer calls at all hours. Donors who give quietly. Families who open their doors. Teenagers who stay late to help.

The need continues to grow. Families are still calling. More lives can be helped.

If you would like to be part of this work – whether through donating, volunteering, or getting involved – Habayit would love to hear from you. And if you or someone you know has an empty or underused apartment in Brooklyn or Manhattan that could be used for hesed, that one step could change a life.

For all inquiries, please contact the Habayit office: 580-HABAYIT (580-422-2948). Because the story of Habayit doesn’t end here. It continues every time someone chooses to take one step.

Michele Shrem

This month we are discussing whether families should discuss finances with their children. Should the kids know about financial struggles that are going on in the household? When I was growing up, money was always a hushed subject.  But, these days should our children still be in the dark? Should families be open about their finances? Should children be told about family financial struggles? Let’s see what our community members have to say.

Sarah

When I was growing up we never knew anything about finances or any struggles. Everything was discussed behind closed doors. And, it was the same with other topics such as religion and politics. There was a sealed lid on family finances that was not opened until much later on, maybe when I was a teenager. I did learn how to handle a bank account through my mom. She took me to the bank to open an account when I started to babysit. I was lucky that she showed me how to save from a young age. Now, instead of saving for a special toy, I can save for a nice vacation!

Anonymous

As a Certified Financial Planner, I feel that shielding children from money discussions is a form of educational neglect. You can’t expect a young adult to have a credit card or to sign a lease if they have never even looked at a utility bill. They will have no conception of money and how to use it properly. I think it is a good idea to discuss finances early and often. You can start with the concept of earning, saving, spending, and giving, even at a young age. If a six year old does a household chore, you can give them a quarter to put into a piggy bank. Then, when it starts to add up, you can take them to a store to spend a little of it. You can also have a home tzedakah box to show them how to give, and even bring them to the organization to deliver the box. I also believe that children should know about struggles going on in a household. There is no need to make them feel nervous, but they can become more resilient. If you can’t go on a vacation one year, you can tell them why. You can suggest a weekend trip instead, and let them know that in the future, they will hopefully go on a larger vacation. When children are in the dark, they can imagine worse-case scenarios. If they know, they may even be able to help by assisting in the home, or not asking for high-priced gadgets.

Jojo

I am very cautious about treating children like adults. I In the current world, that is probably a very old-fashioned thing to say. I feel that discussions should be age-appropriate. I would not want my child to feel anxious. A home should be a very safe and supportive place for them. I advise against sharing serious financial struggles like a job loss for instance, unless they are at least in their teens. I don’t think that children younger than that can understand that problems are solvable, and that the problem may not be permanent. Financial instability can feel like a threat to a child’s safety.

Kelly

When I was growing up, money was very tight, and I knew that my parents struggled through the years. Because they kept me in the loop, I do pretty well for myself now, and I credit my parents for teaching me these skills. Now, I passed that down to my kids so they know the costs of things. I want them to be prepared and understand the value of a dollar. To me, total transparency is the way to go. If the water gets shut off, they should know why, because it builds hunger and a drive to never be in that position themselves.

Mrs. E

I don’t think that children should ever know about family financial hardships. I want my children to play and learn, while my husband and I share the burden. I would never even think of it as a topic for the dinner table. If my kids think that I’m scared, that will be the end of their childhood. My husband and I will hold onto the stress. As adults, I feel that we can handle stress better. There is plenty of time for them to stress about things later on in life. 

Diane

As a teacher of middle school students, I find that many of them have not had any discussions about finances at home. Kids actually do need help to understand why they have different things than their peers. There is a middle ground approach. You don’t need to tell them if you are broke, but you can tell them that certain things will take priority for a little while. This way, they can understand some of what is going on and understand the concept of a budget, without feeling inferior to their classmates and friends.

Mike

I like to have family meetings once in a while in order to talk about several things with my kids, including chores, issues they are having inside and outside of my home, and, of course, finances. I want my kids to see where the money goes. I try to be honest with them. For instance, if we overspent on groceries, and they can’t go to the movies.  Then they can see the math for themselves. They mystery of why I said “no” is then understood with logic.

Lisa

I knew growing up that my parents struggled. I could feel the tension in the air. My parents did not talk about it, and my imagination made it ten times worse. I think families should be in a situation together. As a kid left to guessing, I can tell you that it made me anxious and scared. Years later I found out that it was not as bad as I had thought. If I had known, all those years of worrying could have been avoided for me.

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Ultimately, the line between helpful and harmful financial transparency is drawn at stability. Money discussions are helpful when they serve as a lesson for future independence. They become harmful when they serve to vent parental stress or become a source of childhood fear. By treating money as a neutral tool rather than a secret shame, families can equip the next generation with something money can’t buy: the wisdom to manage it well.

Michele

Jack Gindi

If you’ve been following my work, you know that last year I lost my eldest son, Shaun.

Nothing prepares a parent for that sentence. Nothing prepares you for waking up in a world that looks the same but feels entirely different.

A little more than a year has passed. I’ve learned that time doesn’t heal grief. It teaches you how to carry it. Some days feel steady. Others still knock the wind out of me. What has surprised me most over this past year is how many parents are walking this same road. In the United States alone, an estimated 60,000 to 80,000 families lose a child or young adult every year.

We are living through a quiet and deeply troubling moment in this country. After decades of steady progress, child and youth mortality rates have reversed course. In the last five years, deaths among children and young adults have risen drastically – driven by fentanyl, mental-health crises, gun violence, and despair. One public-health researcher called the shift “a red flashing light.” Behind every number is a family standing in the aftermath, trying to breathe through the unthinkable.

I know that place.

What I want to share here isn’t advice. It’s simply what helped me survive the first year after Shaun passed, moment by moment, breath by breath.

Earlier that day, before I knew Shaun had passed (November 20, 2024), I recorded a short video and posted it online.

“Don’t build a home in hardship. Don’t make mourning your address. Don’t let yesterday steal your tomorrow.”

At the time, I had no idea those words would become a lifeline, first for me, and later for others. After Shaun’s passing, I couldn’t imagine ever standing in front of a camera again. I wasn’t trying to get back to “normal.” That life no longer existed. My work, my health, and my sense of purpose all had to change.

Grief doesn’t just break your heart. It disorients you. It pulls you out of your body, out of your relationships, and out of any sense of direction. In the first months after Shaun’s passing, I gained weight, slept poorly, and felt the edges of myself blur. I wasn’t broken. I was overwhelmed.

What helped me wasn’t trying to fix my grief. It was giving myself something steady to return to.

L.I.F.E

I leaned on the same L.I.F.E. Mapping process I had originally built for families. It helped keep me going when everything felt unstable. I used it to notice when my body was taking the hit of grief and needed care, to stay connected to what I was feeling instead of shutting down, and to make sure I didn’t disappear from my family and friends.

Doing this didn’t make the loss easier. It helped me to keep living while carrying the loss.

Some days, “mapping my life” meant nothing more than getting outside and walking. Other days it meant sitting quietly and letting the tears come. Sometimes it meant reaching out instead of pulling away. And sometimes it meant remembering that even in grief, life still asks for presence, not perfection.

What I’ve learned this year is that grief doesn’t want to be rushed, but it’s not a place to live. Mourning is necessary. Pain needs processing. But if we don’t gently orient ourselves, if we don’t check in with our bodies, our inner world, our relationships, and our sense of meaning, grief can quietly become isolating.

For anyone walking a road of grief now, please hear this. You are not weak for feeling lost. You are human. And you don’t need a grand plan to survive. Sometimes a simple reminder, a daily check-in, or a steady structure is enough to get you through the next hour.

I don’t have your answers. I only have my story. But I believe this deeply. Our greatest heartbreak can also become a doorway to new meaning. Love doesn’t leave us when our loved ones pass on. It changes form. It asks us to carry it differently.

Shaun still walks with me – in my life, my work, my choices, and the families I support. His life ended in shock and pain, but it continues with purpose.

If you’re reading this as a person who has lost someone you love, or fears losing one, know this: You are not alone, and you don’t have to figure life out all at once. Stay connected. Stay honest. Take care of your body. Lean on others. And don’t let grief be the place where you live. Onwards, one breath, one day at a time.