Kiddush in the Seventh Hour - Rabbi Chaim Shlomo Diskin shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast of Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 It’s well known that in Chabad we are careful not to make Kiddush during the seventh hour on Friday night. In Israel, that’s from 6:40 to 7:40, hence the name “the seventh hour.” A great many people aren’t clear about this. Those outside Chabad, of course, often haven’t heard of it. Sephardic communities haven’t heard of such a thing, because the Sephardic halachic authorities don’t mention this custom, apart from one—the Kaf Hachayim, who does cite it. Many people aren’t aware of it, and sometimes problems arise when people sit together—Chabad chassidim with people who aren’t Chabad, or family members, some of whom observe it and some of whom don’t. There are also various questions about how to observe this custom while recognizing, on the other hand, that the letter of the law doesn’t always have to prevail at all costs. Sometimes there may be no choice; it’s a pressing circumstance, and one needn’t, so to speak, go crazy over observing this practice. But let’s start at the beginning. What is the source of the custom? Its source is the Arizal. Tikkunei Shabbos cites the Arizal’s custom: the Arizal writes not to make Kiddush at the onset of Shabbos, but either before or after the seventh hour. The Alter Rebbe also brings this in the laws of Shabbos. After what the Alter Rebbe writes in section 261—let’s quote it directly. First, in subsections one and two, he writes, “The ideal way to perform the mitzvah is to make Kiddush as close as possible to the beginning of Shabbos.” He then says that even if a person left shul early, since he has already accepted Shabbos, he should make Kiddush immediately, close to its onset. He repeats this a third time at the end of subsection three: “As already explained, ideally he should make Kiddush immediately upon coming home from shul while it is still daylight.” Then, at the beginning of subsection three, the Alter Rebbe says, “Some are careful not to make Kiddush during the first hour of the night—that is, the seventh hour after midday—but rather either before nightfall or after an hour has passed into

02:18 Speaker 2 the night, because during the first hour, the planet Mars is ascendant and Samael rules over it,” and so on. What is this custom about? We need to understand what is being discussed here. The Arizal explains that the first hour of the night, six hours after midday—and we’ll soon explain what that means and how it’s measured—is the time when Mars is ascendant. We already know from the Gemara that Mars is something to be a little careful about. The Gemara mentions in several places, including tractate Shabbos, various things to be careful about when Mars is ascendant: bloodletting, for example. The Gemara also discusses someone born under Mars—his traits and character. We do need to be somewhat careful, even though it says that “Israel is not subject to the mazalos”; the Jewish people are above the mazalos. Still, we are somewhat careful specifically about Mars, because it does have an influence. Does it determine what happens? Nothing is predetermined; it doesn’t determine anything, but it does have an influence, and the Arizal tells us to be careful. When is the seventh hour? I’ll explain briefly. Generally, in Jewish law, an hour means a seasonal hour. That’s how we calculate the time for reciting Shema, the time for davening, and all the times throughout the day—using seasonal hours. Except here. With seasonal hours, we divide the day into twelve parts and the night into twelve. In winter, a seasonal hour can be as short as fifty minutes, because we divide the time from morning to evening into twelve, and there aren’t that many hours of daylight in winter. In summer, the day is very long and the night is short, so a seasonal hour in summer can be an hour and ten minutes, or more. Why? Because we divide the length of the day into twelve. That’s how all these calculations work. In this case,

04:14 Speaker 2 it isn’t like that. First of all, the proof is simple: if we’re talking about six seasonal hours after midday, that would always be the first hour of the night. Why say “six hours after midday”? There’s no separate concept of six hours after midday: six seasonal hours after midday brings you to the first hour of the night. If seasonal hours were meant, it would say not to make Kiddush during the first hour after the onset of Shabbos—the first seasonal hour. But it says something else. It says not to make Kiddush during the seventh hour, meaning six hours after midday. Why? Because midday is calculated according to seasonal hours, and in Israel it’s at around 11:40 in winter and 12:40 in summer. That’s midday. Then count six full, sixty-minute hours from midday. When does that come out? Between 6:40 and 7:40, because if midday is at 12:40, six full hours later brings you to 6:40–7:40. Outside Israel, it’s between seven and eight. These aren’t exact times. It’s not a precise mathematical calculation. As the Rebbe writes in a letter, if it were exact, we would have to check in every city precisely when its actual midday is. It isn’t exact, and the Rebbe writes that it was set this way so that we wouldn’t have to check every Friday exactly when six times sixty minutes have passed since midday—exactly when midday occurred in each place. We’re already used to checking the Shabbos starting time for our own area in Israel. That isn’t exact either. Those times aren’t one hundred percent precise, but we know there’s a timetable

05:54 Speaker 2 for the country, divided more or less into regions. Israel was divided into several areas, with candle-lighting times based on the practice each area accepted, and that’s what we go by. Sunset times also differ by minutes. Even two nearby places may have different actual sunset times. If a timetable gives a sunset time for Haifa, it makes a difference whether I’m standing by the sea in Haifa or up on Mount Carmel. Sunset won’t be at the same time. In one place we’ll see the sun until a certain time, and in the other we’ll see it for another minute or more. So the times aren’t one hundred percent exact. But a set time was established for us—an agreed-upon time. In Israel, the time was set at 6:40 to 7:40 on the summer clock. In summer we have no problem, because that hour is always over before we get around to making Kiddush. Mars’s time has passed while we’re still in shul, so we don’t have this issue in summer. The problem is only in winter. Now, that’s essentially what the Alter Rebbe writes here, but he introduces it with the words “Some are careful.” And when he finishes the whole discussion of those who are careful not to make Kiddush during the seventh hour, he concludes, “As already explained, ideally he should make Kiddush immediately upon coming home from shul while it is still daylight.” In other words, there are two considerations here: first, to make Kiddush early; second, to avoid the seventh hour. As I said earlier, not all the halachic authorities mentioned this, and in Israel, most communities did not observe it. The Rebbe also writes about this in his letters. I’ll read a few passages. First, when someone wrote to the Rebbe that people in the Holy Land do not take this into account, the Rebbe wrote: “He will surely inform me of the reasoning of those who do not take it into account, and whether they are reliable authorities.” In other words, the Rebbe writes

07:37 Speaker 2 In a letter published in Igros Kodesh, volume 12, the Rebbe writes to clarify why. Later, addressing what the writer had said about people in the Holy Land not being careful about this, the Rebbe writes that if the custom was not accepted there, we must consider why they did not accept it in the first place. And that is true of some chassidic customs—perhaps even many of them: they were never accepted there to begin with. Why not? The Rebbe writes that the reason this custom was not accepted may be that “one who observes a mitzvah will know no evil.” A number of later authorities wrote about why this custom was not accepted in the Land of Israel. Some say that the constellations have no influence there. The Rebbe refutes that explanation: it is the opposite of what the Gemara says. The Gemara speaks about people who lived in the Land of Israel and says they were careful about the influence of Mars. The Rebbe cites Rabbi Akiva and the Gemara in Shabbos about someone born under Mars, who would do well to become a shochet because he has hot blood. Those were people who lived in the Land of Israel. So the Rebbe says that explanation is not acceptable. But since “one who observes a mitzvah will know no evil,” and one is going to perform the mitzvah of making Kiddush for Shabbos—at least by rabbinic law, making Kiddush over wine is certainly a mitzvah—that may be why some people are not careful about it. Nevertheless, the Rebbe writes that one should be careful. We know that in the Rebbe’s presence they were very careful about this, and they remain very careful to this day not to make Kiddush during the seventh hour. Outside the Land of Israel, the practice was much stronger. In the Land of Israel, because there were

09:21 Speaker 2 many people here who did not know about it, when Chabad chassidim arrived and brought the custom with them, many others did not understand what it was about. They had read it in the Shulchan Aruch, but it says, “Some are careful.” When it says “some are careful,” that does not sound like something everyone is required to do. Especially since, after mentioning this custom, the Alter Rebbe also concludes that, as already explained, ideally one should make Kiddush immediately upon returning from shul while it is still daytime. So even after bringing this custom, the Alter Rebbe refers to what was already explained—that he prefers Kiddush to be made earlier—and he presents the custom as it is. Now, whether “some are careful” applies to everyone or not is something we need to consider. If not for the Rebbe’s letters, which make it quite clear that the Rebbe wants people to be careful about this, including in the Land of Israel—and there are several letters from the Rebbe on the subject—this might have been like many other things described as practices that “some are careful” about, but that we do not observe. There is no shortage of customs like that. The Rebbe once spoke at length about customs that are recorded, with lengthy discussion of the danger involved. I remember a sicha in which the Rebbe spoke about the practice, attributed to [unclear], of not drying oneself after mikveh. The Rebbe discussed why people are not careful about it, and then smiled and hinted, “I say this because I myself am not careful about it either.” The Rebbe also explained why. The Rebbe said that when a custom has not been practiced—or when the Shulchan Aruch says that people do not practice it—that is not written to show that we are being dismissive. Rather, it means that some people do not observe it. Of course, one should not look down on someone who does not practice it. Whoever

11:03 Speaker 2 is careful about it is careful about it, and whoever is not, is not. We, as Chabad chassidim, are supposed to take the Rebbe’s words at face value and be careful about this. So ideally, we should make an effort to observe it and keep track of that time, and not make Kiddush during it. Very few Chabad shuls can finish everything, get home, and make Kiddush before the seventh hour. It can happen occasionally—when there is no sicha of the Rebbe in the middle, and people do not learn in shul but go straight through Mincha, Kabbalas Shabbos, and Maariv. But many Chabad shuls do take longer, with a break for learning. So in winter, people often—and usually—get home and have to sit and wait. Here I want to touch on several difficult points and give us something to think about, so that each person can ask and determine what is best in their own situation. Should one be particular about making Kiddush as soon as one gets home, or about not making it during the seventh hour? When might those two things conflict? I will give a few examples. But first, a brief introduction: We do need to be careful about this; that is certainly how a Chabad chossid should act. But isn’t it also our responsibility to know what to do instead? Let me explain. If people stay in shul to learn—whether there is a regular learning session or the father learns with his children then, or, when the children are young, they stay to learn in shul—they may get home close to the end of the seventh hour. They arrive at seven-thirty, say Shalom Aleichem, make Kiddush, and everything works out well and on time. But what if they get home earlier and there are other people in the house? Who might those people be? Guests, parents, elderly parents—and in many, many cases among us, parents who are not Chabad chassidim. Boruch Hashem, we have many people becoming more involved. They might be

13:06 Speaker 2 people from Sephardic communities who are not careful about this. Then their son or son-in-law, who is a Chabad chossid, arrives and says, “Wait a moment. We’re stopping now and waiting.” If the family had a set time to learn together—the children, the father learning with them, the mother sitting there—that would be fine. We would sit and wait until the end of the seventh hour. But from what I have heard when I’ve asked what happens in the meantime, I can tell you with quite some certainty that very often that is not exactly what happens. And sometimes other things happen. For young children, the time to sit with their father and mother is at the Shabbos table. If we let them run wild and play so that Mars will go away quickly, they will expend all their energy playing. Then they will not sit at the Shabbos table: they will either fall asleep beforehand or already be restless. There are all kinds of examples like that. Does being careful about this override everything? Does it override sitting with the children? I am speaking especially to parents who do not sit with their children during the week, whose time together is at the Shabbos table. Sadly, sitting with one’s children is also an instruction from the Rebbe. For some reason, I do not know why the instruction about the seventh hour carries more weight than the Rebbe’s instruction to sit with one’s children. The Rebbe wrote it in Hayom Yom and repeated it; the Frierdiker Rebbe repeated it, and the Rebbe Rashab repeated it. The instruction to sit with one’s children for half an hour a day is also an instruction from the Rebbe, and perhaps, given the importance of education in our generation, it should carry much more weight for us. Yet for some reason it receives less attention. So if during that time people are not sitting with the children—or if it becomes a time to read the weekly parsha in a mundane way, perhaps the weekly parshiyos, or to sit and chat, or there are other examples

14:56 Speaker 2 So perhaps sometimes—and I say this cautiously—it is worth being especially careful in educating children, in honoring others, and in maintaining peace at home. This matters when there are other people in the house or guests coming to stay. We should not be “super-Chabad” about this. Sometimes that approach is out of place, especially when much more serious issues are involved. We have to know which concern matters more. I’ll give an example from a related area: human dignity. The Gemara says, “Great is human dignity, for it overrides a prohibition in the Torah.” As the Gemara explains, if someone is on his way to offer the Pesach sacrifice and comes across an unattended dead person, he must see to the burial and all that it requires, even though he will then miss the Pesach sacrifice. There are other examples in the Gemara, such as an elderly person finding a lost object when retrieving it would be beneath his dignity. Returning a lost object is a Torah mitzvah. But imagine a great rabbi finding a donkey in the street and walking around with it looking for its owner—or walking around with someone’s dog, or carrying something very heavy and unsuitable for him. Because of human dignity, even a Torah obligation can give way. Certainly this applies to rabbinic obligations. There is the case of someone wearing a garment with rabbinically prohibited shatnez, or whose tzitzis have torn: by the letter of the law, he would have to take it off immediately. But no—he does not take it off in the middle of the street, out of concern for human dignity. There are also examples in the laws of muktzeh where human dignity takes precedence.

16:51 Speaker 2 I’ll give another example, one that is sometimes a little painful, concerning being “super-Chabad” on Pesach. We really are meticulous, and we should try to be meticulous here too. The Arizal’s teaching says that whoever is careful to avoid even the slightest amount of chametz on Pesach is assured that he will not sin. But should that come at the cost of hurting one’s wife by telling her, “We’re not going to your parents for Pesach this year, because they eat—heaven help us—things we don’t eat in my home”? They are meticulous too. It isn’t that they are not careful; they simply don’t observe every stringency practiced in the son-in-law’s home. Suddenly he is shocked to see them eating foods that are properly supervised, or vegetables they did not eat in [unclear], or salads they did not have in [unclear], or drinking Coca-Cola with a good Pesach certification, which they never had in his home. And then he starts offending his father-in-law, his mother-in-law [?], and everyone else: “I won’t eat it, I won’t touch it, and I won’t touch the dishes.” Or he discovers that they don’t eat matzah in bags on Pesach, whereas in his home it was practically a Torah obligation to eat matzah in a bag held right up to your mouth—and in this home they have no such practice. There are more examples; I won’t go into every kind right now. We need to know that we do not take the “super-Chabad” approach to everything. Sometimes we need to know where to be especially particular. And I think this applies here too: if the children won’t get to experience the Shabbos table, won’t see a Shabbos table at all—they’ll fall asleep or run wild—whereas if we make Kiddush right away and sit down together, we’ll have time to be with them, hear what they learned in kindergarten or cheder, hear what they have to tell us about Shabbos, tell them a story, and sing with them, I’m not sure that isn’t more important than being strict about the seventh hour. And that is something

18:36 Speaker 2 worth examining very carefully. Look at the actual situation, not at who is being “super-Chabad”: what is better here? Another point is guests. I know that when there are guests who are not yet observant—and thank G-d, many of us bring guests home—if you can sit with them and learn something during that time, excellent. But if they are just pacing back and forth with nothing to do, or sitting and chatting and then [unclear] at the Shabbos table, that too is worth examining carefully. It is true that someone wrote to the Rebbe about a guest who wanted to make Kiddush earlier. He wrote that hospitality is certainly a Torah mitzvah, and “one who keeps a mitzvah will know no evil.” The Rebbe replied that this was not quite accurate: that principle does not apply to the guest himself. You could say that the host is fulfilling the mitzvah of hospitality, but the guest is not—and the guest wants to make Kiddush during the seventh hour. The Rebbe said that, consequently, it does not apply to the host either. So yes, if there is a guest and you can sit and talk with him beforehand, or learn something with him, and he is not especially hungry, that is one thing. But if he is very hungry and mainly waiting for the food—as they used to say about people who come to the Seder, “Not for the Haggadah, but for the kneidlach” [?]—he didn’t come for the Haggadah; he came for the kneidlach. If he came for the kneidlach rather than to hear stories, let’s make Kiddush with him, sit down with him, and let him have a good meal. Once he has eaten well, we learn from Avraham Avinu that a person can become receptive and listen to what you tell him. If we speak to him while he is hungry, I’m not sure the words will really enter his heart, because right now his heart is thinking about

20:10 Speaker 2 other things. And he doesn’t understand: “You invited me for Shabbos, and now you’re telling me to stay hungry for another forty-five minutes because you have a problem with Mars?” Mars is still at work here. So sometimes we have to know how to weigh things properly. What’s more, this can sometimes even affect peace at home. If a wife has worked hard all Friday and is exhausted, that too needs to be considered. Peace at home matters as well, especially in our generation, when there are so many difficulties in this area. So it is worth taking that into account. This is not, G-d forbid, about making light of the seventh hour. We should be careful about it, and anyone who can certainly should be careful. But when concerns conflict—and sometimes they do—we have to know what takes precedence. As the Rebbe writes regarding a bris milah, there can be a conflict between “the zealous perform mitzvos at the earliest opportunity” and “in a multitude of people is the King’s glory.” There is a debate over which principle takes precedence: should the bris take place early in the morning, immediately after Shacharis, fulfilling the principle of doing a mitzvah promptly, or in the afternoon, when more people can attend? Some say one principle is more important; others say the other is. But we should not look only at the rule concerning the seventh hour without looking at everything else around it. We need to take those other things into account too. I am not here to rule on what anyone should do in his own home; it depends very much on each person’s circumstances. I am only saying that when my children were small, I knew how important it was for me to sit with them, and I was not strict

21:46 Speaker 2 About the seventh hour. When they grew older, I went back to being particular about it for that reason. So I’m not telling everyone to do it this way, but to think carefully about what will bring the greater benefit. Which choice will accomplish more? What will be better? Which way of acting will give the Rebbe more and more nachas? The Rebbe also wrote about people who used to farbreng every Shabbos in shul while their wives were left alone with the children. In a well-known letter, the Rebbe completely rejected that practice—even though a Shabbos farbrengen is a great thing and can lead to very good things and good resolutions. But if the child doesn’t see his father at the Shabbos table, because his father is farbrenging, and his mother tells him, “Daddy is farbrenging at shul now,” and he comes back after Shabbos swaying, and makes Havdalah, thank G-d, with his heart merry from wine—he comes straight to Havdalah and eats the Shabbos meal together with Havdalah at home with Mom, [unclear] together. There are positive aspects to all of this, but the Rebbe rejected it completely, because there are other things that matter too. So on this subject as well, G-d forbid that any disrespect should come of this—G-d forbid—whether for the mitzvah or for performing it in the most beautiful way. But we need to know that we must also take the other considerations into account. That is why there are rabbonim and mashpi’im. Everyone should think about it and consult his mashpia and his rav to see what is best for him and what he needs to do, and act as the Rebbe instructed us to do in these matters. When we consult others and thereby follow the Rebbe’s instruction in this too—asking a rav, for “salvation lies in many counselors,” or consulting a mashpia about one’s personal circumstances—then surely Hakadosh Boruch Hu will guide us

23:26 Speaker 2 on the right path. May it be His will that we merit to observe Shabbos properly and do it as it should be done. And at the same time, may we have a Chassidic home together with the children, the guests, the parents, and everyone else in the house—a truly Chassidic home. And with Hashem’s help, may we merit to discern His will and do what we need to do. May we all merit, with Hashem’s help, the day that is entirely Shabbos and rest.