There’s an old adage in Jewish tradition: Chochmah ba’goyim ta’amin—wisdom can be found among the nations. It reminds us that while we may have deep and justified differences with world leaders and governments, there is a time and place for everything. On Sunday, YWN failed to grasp this nuance, publishing an inflammatory article that labeled former President Jimmy Carter a “champion of terrorists” mere hours after his passing. Let me be clear – Carter’s record on Israel, particularly his soft approach to Yasser Arafat and his blind eye to Hamas, deserves attention. He made choices that many in the Jewish community found dangerous and offensive. But there is a line between holding someone accountable in life and spitting on their grave the moment they leave this world.

Every Chanukah, like clockwork, the same outrage resurfaces: “Donut prices are outrageous! Highway robbery!” And every year, I can’t help but ask – are we serious right now? Let’s break this down. When did stuffing your face with donuts for eight days straight become a core part of Chanukah observance? Yes, there’s an inyan to eat fried foods, but in case anyone forgot, that used to mean homemade latkes. When I was a kid (and I’m not that old), donuts were a treat – not a staple. You’d get one at the Chanukah mesiba in school and maybe another at the family party. That was it. Today? You can’t walk three feet without being assaulted by a pile of donuts, each one bigger, fancier, and pricier than the last. But let’s set aside the absurdity of donut overconsumption.

The topic of rebbeim and teachers in yeshivos not being paid enough resurfaces regularly, particularly around the time of the Torah Umesorah Presidents Conference in Florida. This discussion gained renewed attention last night when philanthropist Yoel Landau announced at the Satmar Chof Alef Kislev event in Williamsburg that he and other Satmar philanthropists would be giving a staggering 30% salary increase to rebbeim in Satmar yeshivos. It should be commended. Many hailed this – the largest pay raise in yeshiva salary history – as a great thing. However, I’d like to share two points on this matter: 1. Satmar Salaries vs.

I feel compelled to address Yosef Stolz’s recent mailbag about the Shatnez testing process and costs, as well as comments made by others about its halachic obligations. Rabbi Stolz mentioned “50 to 100 places to check for Shatnez” in a suit. I must respectfully disagree with this figure. My training in practical Shatnez testing took place in Lakowood over 40 years ago, and it was based on both learning the halachos and hands-on practice. At that time, we were taught to check 11 primary locations in a typical suit: Jacket: Each shoulder (2), button thread (1), buttonhole thread (1), inner lining or stiffener (2), any fancy stitching (2), and the collar (1). Pants: Two locations in the waistband or lining.

As we edge closer to Inauguration Day, a chilling scenario looms that could throw the democratic process into chaos—and hand Kamala Harris the presidency indefinitely. Imagine this: President Joe Biden resigns, making Harris the new President. She then declines to nominate a Vice President, exploiting a constitutional loophole that could prevent the certification of election results and deny Donald Trump his rightful victory. According to Article II, Section 1 of the U.S. Constitution and the 25th Amendment, when the Vice Presidency is vacant, the President must nominate a replacement, subject to majority approval by Congress. But what if Harris simply refuses?

The “Shidduch Crisis” has become a painful reality for so many in our community, and I am no exception. Finding a life partner—a goal that should be filled with excitement and hope—has turned into a drawn-out, demoralizing ordeal. This isn’t just a crisis of numbers or compatibility; the entire process is fundamentally flawed. I’ve seen it firsthand, and it’s exhausting. Let’s start with the process itself. You’d think that in a world of modern communication, setting up a date would be straightforward. But no, the delays start the moment a suggestion is made. First, the boy looks into the girl’s resume. This “research” phase can take days, as if dissecting someone’s life on paper could somehow reveal their true essence.

For years, Donald Trump has railed against the Fake News Media, rallying millions of loyal supporters – myself included – to his side with promises to expose their corruption and lies. The battle against media dishonesty became a cornerstone of his brand, a cause that many Americans rallied behind as they poured their trust—and millions of dollars—into his legal defense funds. Yet, in a stunning move that reeks of betrayal, Trump has chosen to settle a lawsuit with ABC News over their outright lies about him for a paltry $15 million donation to his future presidential library. This wasn’t just any lawsuit. Trump had the rare opportunity to depose ABC’s top figures, including George Stephanopoulos, and gain access to their internal communications through discovery.

For those of us who strive to live halachically, even seemingly minor mitzvos carry immense significance. One such mitzvah is the prohibition of shatnez—the mixing of wool and linen in a garment. It’s a mitzvah we are careful to observe, especially in today’s world of diverse fabrics. But one question lingers in my mind: why does shatnez checking cost so much? Recently, I purchased a jacket from a reputable brand, known for being shatnez-free. Still, I took it to a local shatnez checker, as is the proper practice. I expected a nominal fee of $5 or $10 for the check. Instead, I was told it would cost $20—more than I’ve paid for dry cleaning! The entire process took less than two minutes, leaving me questioning the fairness of the fee.

The recent letter discussing the balance of responsibility between the “haves” and “have-nots” raises some valid points about communal dynamics. However, it overlooks a fundamental reality of our society: the disproportionate honor and status afforded to those with financial means. This dynamic, deeply embedded in our communal institutions and values, places an undue burden on those with less and necessitates that the onus for change fall on those blessed with wealth. As has been pointed out in numerous letters and discussions on YWN and elsewhere, our institutions and organizations have enshrined the idea that wealth equals honor. Fundraising dinners, building dedications, and gala events often center around showcasing and celebrating those with material success.

As I sit down to write this on Thursday night, shortly after the Parnasa session at the Agudah convention concluded, I find myself grappling with a deep and nuanced question raised by Naftali Horowitz’s heartfelt plea. For those who missed it, he passionately implored us to be mindful of those with less means than ourselves. His message was clear and well-meaning: our actions and spending habits should take into account the potential hurt they may cause to others who struggle financially. While his sentiment is admirable, I believe there is a critical point that deserves more attention—one that wasn’t fully explored. Why is the burden to “tone down” placed almost exclusively on those who have been blessed with material success?