I had a quite wonderful high school chemistry teacher. So much so, in fact, that I was temporarily drawn to the dark side of noxious compounds, retorts, and bunsen burners before following the light to physics and eventually to Torah. But I digress.
One of the things that makes high school chemistry so much fun, of course, is cool chemical reactions -- especially ones that involve whooshes of fire. Lithium metal will burn in air, but not in acetone. The instructor had a mixture of shaved lithium in acetone which he used to coat a piece of filter paper. The acetone kept the lithium from reacting with the air, but would also evaporate, exposing the lithium shavings to air (shavings for more surface area; the better to react with you, my dear), and we would be treated to a small whoosh of flame. As the acetone was evaporating, he went back to the board to explain what were about to see. A female student with long, straight hair wandered up to the demo table and leaned over the lithium/acetone soaked filter paper that was resting on a ring stand. A few of us -- who were paying more attention to a pretty girl than to the instructor, frankly -- noticed some smoke curling up from the paper. We yelled at her to !!MOVE NOW!! I have a very clear memory of her pulling back and the whoosh of flame rising at the same time... missing her hair and face by inches. Quite dramatic; not the drama the instructor intended, but made a lasting impression on all us.
She was very happy that we had warned her. We were very happy that we had warned her. I don't believe a single person thought: "Oh, gosh, who am I to tell her what to do?" -nor- "Maybe she'd rather have her face burned than hear me yell at her." We had one thought -- she was in danger and we wanted to help her.
In a recent TftD, I mentioned that I don't say the 18 verses and one bracha inserted before the ma'ariv shmone esrei for the benefit of latecomers. I haven't said them for years. I couldn't keep up, so I asked R' Fuerst what I should do. He told me I should simply elide them. Not only when I can't keep up, but since I often can't keep up, I should just skip them always. That was years (decades) ago; so why mention it now? Baruch HaShem, I still can't keep up, but I often have a minute or so between when I finish and they finish; so I would learn a bit or recite a verse or two of the parasha. The rav who sits next to me explained to me that the Gr"a poskens not to say those verses because they are a form of interruption (which I knew). He suggested that my recital of other verses might also be an interruption (which I had not seriously considered). I asked R' Fuerst... and now I slow down to finish with the congregation; they with the extra verses and bracha, me without.
When you give someone mussar like you are saving them from a fire, they hear it differently. Even if you can't do that, though, it doesn't get you off the hook. If someone is eating something you know does not have a reliable hechsher, or carrying somewhere that does not have a reliable eiruv, or saying lashon hara, or making a bracha without thinking, or ... or ... or... All of these things cause terrible, terrible spiritual damage. You can't just let it go, anymore than we could take a chance on letting that young lady get burned. If someone questions something you are doing... you need to thank them.
When a Jew is doing something that is not in consonance with halacha, he is damaging his soul. I shudder when I think what could have happened to that young lady had we not yelled. Hair, though, grows back; burns heal. Damage to the soul is eternal.
One of the things that makes high school chemistry so much fun, of course, is cool chemical reactions -- especially ones that involve whooshes of fire. Lithium metal will burn in air, but not in acetone. The instructor had a mixture of shaved lithium in acetone which he used to coat a piece of filter paper. The acetone kept the lithium from reacting with the air, but would also evaporate, exposing the lithium shavings to air (shavings for more surface area; the better to react with you, my dear), and we would be treated to a small whoosh of flame. As the acetone was evaporating, he went back to the board to explain what were about to see. A female student with long, straight hair wandered up to the demo table and leaned over the lithium/acetone soaked filter paper that was resting on a ring stand. A few of us -- who were paying more attention to a pretty girl than to the instructor, frankly -- noticed some smoke curling up from the paper. We yelled at her to !!MOVE NOW!! I have a very clear memory of her pulling back and the whoosh of flame rising at the same time... missing her hair and face by inches. Quite dramatic; not the drama the instructor intended, but made a lasting impression on all us.
She was very happy that we had warned her. We were very happy that we had warned her. I don't believe a single person thought: "Oh, gosh, who am I to tell her what to do?" -nor- "Maybe she'd rather have her face burned than hear me yell at her." We had one thought -- she was in danger and we wanted to help her.
In a recent TftD, I mentioned that I don't say the 18 verses and one bracha inserted before the ma'ariv shmone esrei for the benefit of latecomers. I haven't said them for years. I couldn't keep up, so I asked R' Fuerst what I should do. He told me I should simply elide them. Not only when I can't keep up, but since I often can't keep up, I should just skip them always. That was years (decades) ago; so why mention it now? Baruch HaShem, I still can't keep up, but I often have a minute or so between when I finish and they finish; so I would learn a bit or recite a verse or two of the parasha. The rav who sits next to me explained to me that the Gr"a poskens not to say those verses because they are a form of interruption (which I knew). He suggested that my recital of other verses might also be an interruption (which I had not seriously considered). I asked R' Fuerst... and now I slow down to finish with the congregation; they with the extra verses and bracha, me without.
When you give someone mussar like you are saving them from a fire, they hear it differently. Even if you can't do that, though, it doesn't get you off the hook. If someone is eating something you know does not have a reliable hechsher, or carrying somewhere that does not have a reliable eiruv, or saying lashon hara, or making a bracha without thinking, or ... or ... or... All of these things cause terrible, terrible spiritual damage. You can't just let it go, anymore than we could take a chance on letting that young lady get burned. If someone questions something you are doing... you need to thank them.
When a Jew is doing something that is not in consonance with halacha, he is damaging his soul. I shudder when I think what could have happened to that young lady had we not yelled. Hair, though, grows back; burns heal. Damage to the soul is eternal.
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