I love expressions like "there nothing cooler than..." Really? You are willing to categorically state that whatever follows that ellipsis is not only the coolest thing you have ever experienced, but is actually cooler than anything that has been or could ever been or even can in the future experienced by anyone in the world? Really? I would say that tells you more about the one make that wild assertion than the coolness of the experience itself.
There are few things cooler than randomly opening a sefer before davening on Shabbos morning and seeing a reference to that week's parsha completely out of the blue. There is an extra dimension of coolness when the reference itself is only tangential. It feels like a whisper in your ear from the Creator saying, "Just wanted to say hi, dude." (He talks to me in language I can understand; what can I say.) Not only did that happen, but it corrected an important detail in a story I had heard. Not only do I now have the story right, but lesson to be learned from the corrected story is profound, indeed.
There was a non-religious pharmacist in the town where the Chafeitz Chaim lived. The Chafeitz Chaim had been giving serious consideration to how he could reach this Jew. He had an insight and went to the pharmacy one busy weekday afternoon. The Chafeitz Chaim approached the pharmacist, took his hand, and exclaimed, "I am so jealous of your Olam HaBah, because you spend the entire day, every day, taking care of Jews and even saving their lives with the medicines you dispense!" The pharmacist was taken aback, "But rabbi... I am just doing my job; I get paid for dispensing medicine." "No matter," explained the Chafeitz Chaim, "of course you need to make a living. However, by simply having in mind whenever you dispense a medicine that you are fulfilling the Will of the Creator by doing the mitzvah of attending to the sick, you are are also credited with having fulfilled a Torah obligation!"
The pharmacist figured he had nothing to lose (and perhaps much to gain), so he started having that thought as he filled and dispensed medications. Of course, since he had that thought in mind, he also started being more careful with each prescription. His dealing with the customers became a bit more caring. Over time (days, weeks, months...) he started thinking that he remembered there were many mitzvos that he could fulfill with little additional effort. Over time (weeks, months, years...) he added tzitzis, t'fillin, davening, Shabbos. Before even one day in HaShem's eyes (that is, a 1000 years in our eyes), the pharmacist was shomer Torah and mitzvos.
What was the one detail that profoundly changed the effect of this incident on me? I had heard the pharmacist was frum and was jealous of the Chafeitz Chaim for being able to be involved with avodas HaShem all day. The Chafeitz Chaim (in that version) replied that the pharmacist also had opportunities in his day for avodas HaShem. A nice bit of chizkuk, to be sure; excellent advice, without question; affects the way I try to have a positive influence on this world.... not so much.
I therefore had to wonder: what had the Chafeitz Chaim realized that led him to embark on this path to bring this Jew back to Torah, thereby saving his life? I don't know, of course; but here is my take. Torah is light. Light dispels darkness; after all, darkness is really nothing but the absence of light. Light, therefore, can't lose against darkness. Why, then, isn't every Jew completely shomer Torah and mitzvos? Simple, you can block out the light; just close your eyes. Yelling and cajoling someone to change their ways is about as effective as yelling and cajoling your four year old to "just try it this delicious goo." They just close their eyes (and mouths, respectively) all the harder. Introduce it in a way that is non-threatening, though, and nature (or, in this case, supernature) will take its course.
Just as changing "there's nothing cooler than..." to "few things are cooler than..." changes the ridiculous to the sublime, a small change in approach changes a threat to a welcome message of friendship.
There are few things cooler than randomly opening a sefer before davening on Shabbos morning and seeing a reference to that week's parsha completely out of the blue. There is an extra dimension of coolness when the reference itself is only tangential. It feels like a whisper in your ear from the Creator saying, "Just wanted to say hi, dude." (He talks to me in language I can understand; what can I say.) Not only did that happen, but it corrected an important detail in a story I had heard. Not only do I now have the story right, but lesson to be learned from the corrected story is profound, indeed.
There was a non-religious pharmacist in the town where the Chafeitz Chaim lived. The Chafeitz Chaim had been giving serious consideration to how he could reach this Jew. He had an insight and went to the pharmacy one busy weekday afternoon. The Chafeitz Chaim approached the pharmacist, took his hand, and exclaimed, "I am so jealous of your Olam HaBah, because you spend the entire day, every day, taking care of Jews and even saving their lives with the medicines you dispense!" The pharmacist was taken aback, "But rabbi... I am just doing my job; I get paid for dispensing medicine." "No matter," explained the Chafeitz Chaim, "of course you need to make a living. However, by simply having in mind whenever you dispense a medicine that you are fulfilling the Will of the Creator by doing the mitzvah of attending to the sick, you are are also credited with having fulfilled a Torah obligation!"
The pharmacist figured he had nothing to lose (and perhaps much to gain), so he started having that thought as he filled and dispensed medications. Of course, since he had that thought in mind, he also started being more careful with each prescription. His dealing with the customers became a bit more caring. Over time (days, weeks, months...) he started thinking that he remembered there were many mitzvos that he could fulfill with little additional effort. Over time (weeks, months, years...) he added tzitzis, t'fillin, davening, Shabbos. Before even one day in HaShem's eyes (that is, a 1000 years in our eyes), the pharmacist was shomer Torah and mitzvos.
What was the one detail that profoundly changed the effect of this incident on me? I had heard the pharmacist was frum and was jealous of the Chafeitz Chaim for being able to be involved with avodas HaShem all day. The Chafeitz Chaim (in that version) replied that the pharmacist also had opportunities in his day for avodas HaShem. A nice bit of chizkuk, to be sure; excellent advice, without question; affects the way I try to have a positive influence on this world.... not so much.
I therefore had to wonder: what had the Chafeitz Chaim realized that led him to embark on this path to bring this Jew back to Torah, thereby saving his life? I don't know, of course; but here is my take. Torah is light. Light dispels darkness; after all, darkness is really nothing but the absence of light. Light, therefore, can't lose against darkness. Why, then, isn't every Jew completely shomer Torah and mitzvos? Simple, you can block out the light; just close your eyes. Yelling and cajoling someone to change their ways is about as effective as yelling and cajoling your four year old to "just try it this delicious goo." They just close their eyes (and mouths, respectively) all the harder. Introduce it in a way that is non-threatening, though, and nature (or, in this case, supernature) will take its course.
Just as changing "there's nothing cooler than..." to "few things are cooler than..." changes the ridiculous to the sublime, a small change in approach changes a threat to a welcome message of friendship.
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