The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

Car Number One

Last week, I spoke at an event in Manhattan.

After the event, I retrieved my car from the parking garage and headed home.

Soon after, a car began flashing its headlights at me.

At first, I was concerned.

Why was this car flashing its headlights at me?

Had I done something wrong?

I switched lanes to avoid any issue and allowed Mr. Flashing Headlights to pass me.

Unbeknownst to me, headlight flashing is a common non-verbal optical method of communication between two drivers.

(A quick search on Wikipedia yielded the following information: "Headlight flashing is the act of either briefly switching on the headlights of a car… in an effort to communicate with another driver or drivers.")

However, my quick lane change did nothing to throw off Mr. Flashing Headlights.

In fact, he sped up to pass me and then slowed down, and was now parallel to me on my right.

It was after 10 PM; I was driving in Manhattan, and the driver on my right side was clinging to me like a barracuda.

What would happen to me next?

Maybe the other driver noticed I was Jewish, and I was going to be the next news story of an anti—Semitic incident in New York City?

Truth be told, the man most certainly did recognize me as Jewish.

And although I cannot be certain, it is quite possible that my Jewish appearance motivated my driving buddy to bring his car parallel to mine.

The reason I say this is that, as I looked to my right, the driver lowered his window, and to my great relief,  the friendly and warm face of a Chassidishe Yid was smiling at me.

After regaining my composure and allowing my adrenaline level to subside, I focused on my newfound friend.

"Your headlights are not on. Turn them on! Zei Gezunt!" he said with a smile.

Indeed, when exiting the parking garage and not wanting to hold up other cars as they attempted to exit, I neglected to turn on my headlights.

Thankfully, I had only travelled a few blocks before I was informed by my fellow Jew to turn on my lights.

An event that initially I perceived to be a potential danger, in reality, was an example of a concerned and caring fellow Jew correcting my own negligence for failing to "check all systems"-including my headlights—before exiting the parking garage.

In other words, what I initially thought was a potentially threatening situation was actually a caring person's commitment to improve and correct what I had neglected to do.

The lesson is clear:

The Chassidishe Yid made a conscious effort to assist me and ensure my safety.

I am deeply indebted to this nameless man, and I intend to be that much more careful about my lights and all safety aspects of driving.

This concludes the story of car number one, which we call "the Good Car".

Car Number Two

For those who live in Passaic, no background information is needed.

Yet, for those unfamiliar with the lay of the land, allow me to provide some context.

My Shul is located on the southeast corner of Van Houten Avenue (a north-south road) and High Street (an east-west road).

As the Shul was constructed in the 1950s, with the exception of street parking, there is no designated parking lot for the Shul.

Obviously, as the Shul boasts over forty minyanim a day, parking can be challenging to say the least.

About twenty feet from the corner of Van Houten Avenue and High Street (on the Van Houten side)  is a fire hydrant.

The prohibition of parking in front of a hydrant is both legally and halachically mandated.

It is morally repugnant, causing a Chilul Hashem, especially when the hydrant is located in front of a Shul.

However, perhaps even more serious is the danger caused by a parked car by the hydrant.

Unfortunately, there is often a car parked by the hydrant, ostensibly parked there by someone davening in the Shul.

This danger is caused when anyone attempts to make a right turn from High Street onto Van Houten.

Now, I realize that some of you may think this entire piece sounds trivial and inconsequential, minor and negligible.

After all, why is the rabbi writing about parking rules?

Is this Halacha?

Is this Torah?

The answer is an emphatic "YES" to both.

It is Torah!

In fact, perhaps we can designate it as a prerequisite to Torah, as "Derech Eretz (proper behavior) Kadma L'torah!"

How is this Torah?

As anyone (including myself) who has ever attempted to make the right turn onto Van Houten from High Street and had their vision blocked by an illegally parked car by the hydrant, thereby forcing them to swing wide onto Van Houten and into potential oncoming traffic, it is anything but trivial.

Indeed, it is a matter of life and death.

And life and death issues are certainly part of the Torah!

This week, we read about the Arei Miklat- Cities of Refuge – which provided a refuge for a person who killed unintentionally; however, a measure of negligence was present.

The cities of refuge were basically the Torah's form of incarceration.

A person is confined there if they kill another person unintentionally, yet their reckless act contains a degree of negligence.

Therefore, the person is (somewhat) culpable for the death and must remain incarcerated in the City of Refuge.

When you park in a spot that impedes and obscures other drivers' ability to see the road, and your illegal parking compels a driver to swing onto potential oncoming traffic, you are acting recklessly and transgressing both the city's parking regulations and the Halacha!

You are causing pain and distress, and potentially worse, to your fellow human being, notwithstanding that you have no intention to harm anyone. You are still culpable for your actions.

How can such a person justify joining a Minyan and davening to Hashem for their well-being and for the well-being of their fellow Jews when they are simultaneously recklessly putting others in danger?

How much value will Hashem place on that Tefillah?

Perhaps this is what Chazal meant when they said that when one immerses in a Mikvah and simultaneously holds a sheretz (an impure creature) in their hand, the purification is worthless.

How worthwhile is a Tefillah which is only made possible by an action that hurts the very people you claim to daven for?

This concludes the story of car number two.

This car is the "not-good" car.

So ends the tale of two cars.

Summation

A tale of two cars-

In one, a man utilized his vehicle to help out his fellow Jew

In the other, a man's car caused pain to others…

Which of these two cars is Hashem proud of?