When I was younger and would express "but if" questions, my father would usually answer, "If a frog had six shooters and a ten gallon hat, then he would be a Texas ranger." As I got older, my "but if" questions got more sophisticated, and my father's response got more colorful. I am going to stick with the frog/Texas ranger response; thank you very much.
The truth is, though, that hypothetical situations can be used to reveal insights about real situations. Physicists use thought experiments (the real physicists use "gedanken" experiments; "frummer than thou" permeates all walks of life) to explore the consequences of physical theory. Recently, to my extreme delight, I learned of a situation where the hypothetical is used to drive practical halacha.
The pre-setup: We do not daven a regular weekday שמונה עשרה on Shabbos and Yom Tov. This is not because we have no need of such things as health, livelihood, in-gathering of the exiles and so forth. Rather, Chazal wanted to save us the mental burden of thinking about our daily living activities on Shabbos and Yom Tov. We usually don't care why Chazal did something (except as a matter of intellectual curiosity), but in this case there is a very practical and oh-to-frequent case where it matters: Someone forgets himself on Shabbos or Yom Tov and starts davening a regular weekday שמונה עשרה. Since it is perfectly appropriate to daven such a שמונה עשרה (we just don't, because Chazal gave us a substitute), the halacha is that one should finish the bracha in which he currently finds himself, then continues with the appropriate Shabbos or Yom Tov t'fila. (For more details, see Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 268; along with Mishna Brura and Dirshu there.)
That's not the hypothetical I want to discuss. Suppose you are really off your game on Shabbos and find yourself starting ברך עלינו. The rule, as stated above, is that you finish the entire bracha. Recall that we make a small modification to our prayers depending on the season. In the winter we pray for rain, in the summer we don't. As you finish the bracha of ברך עלינו, obviously, you will use the insertion appropriate to the season. (What happens if you use the inappropriate insertion? Interesting, but outside the scope of this TftD.)
That's also not the hypothetical I want to discuss. Here it is: The switch to praying for rain occurs on Dec 4th or 5th. (Why we don't use a date on the Hebrew calendar and why it depends is, again, interesting, beyond the scope of this TftD.) The switch to desist from adding the prayer for rain, however, happens on the first day of Pesach. Well, it would if we davened a weekday שמונה עשרה; but we don't so we don't. Are you thinking little croaking Texas rangers? Not so fast, Quick Draw! Here's the thing: Suppose on that first day or night of Peach, our poor Sad Sack forgets himself, starts davening a weekday שמונה עשרה, and gets as far as the words ברך עלינו... Now what?
The usual rule is that one does not change what he says in שמונה עשרה unless there has been a public announcement to that effect. (Aside: That's why we make the changes in the morning, because not everyone is in shul for ma'ariv. Yes, even during the time of Chazal.) The rule is to ensure we don't have some people praying one way and others a different way; we want the congregation to all be saying the same שמונה עשרה. In this case, however, the congregation has already finished adding the prayer for rain into שמונה עשרה. They finished because everyone is supposed to be davening a Yom Tov שמונה עשרה -- which does not include ברך עלינו, so obviously they are not adding the prayer for rain into the bracha that they are not saying. At the other end of the year, Dec 4th (or 5th) could end up on a Shabbos. Analogously, our Sad Sack would again not add the prayer for rain; this time because the congregation has not yet begun the addition in their שמונה עשרה.
All I have to add is: Ribit! Bang!
The truth is, though, that hypothetical situations can be used to reveal insights about real situations. Physicists use thought experiments (the real physicists use "gedanken" experiments; "frummer than thou" permeates all walks of life) to explore the consequences of physical theory. Recently, to my extreme delight, I learned of a situation where the hypothetical is used to drive practical halacha.
The pre-setup: We do not daven a regular weekday שמונה עשרה on Shabbos and Yom Tov. This is not because we have no need of such things as health, livelihood, in-gathering of the exiles and so forth. Rather, Chazal wanted to save us the mental burden of thinking about our daily living activities on Shabbos and Yom Tov. We usually don't care why Chazal did something (except as a matter of intellectual curiosity), but in this case there is a very practical and oh-to-frequent case where it matters: Someone forgets himself on Shabbos or Yom Tov and starts davening a regular weekday שמונה עשרה. Since it is perfectly appropriate to daven such a שמונה עשרה (we just don't, because Chazal gave us a substitute), the halacha is that one should finish the bracha in which he currently finds himself, then continues with the appropriate Shabbos or Yom Tov t'fila. (For more details, see Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 268; along with Mishna Brura and Dirshu there.)
That's not the hypothetical I want to discuss. Suppose you are really off your game on Shabbos and find yourself starting ברך עלינו. The rule, as stated above, is that you finish the entire bracha. Recall that we make a small modification to our prayers depending on the season. In the winter we pray for rain, in the summer we don't. As you finish the bracha of ברך עלינו, obviously, you will use the insertion appropriate to the season. (What happens if you use the inappropriate insertion? Interesting, but outside the scope of this TftD.)
That's also not the hypothetical I want to discuss. Here it is: The switch to praying for rain occurs on Dec 4th or 5th. (Why we don't use a date on the Hebrew calendar and why it depends is, again, interesting, beyond the scope of this TftD.) The switch to desist from adding the prayer for rain, however, happens on the first day of Pesach. Well, it would if we davened a weekday שמונה עשרה; but we don't so we don't. Are you thinking little croaking Texas rangers? Not so fast, Quick Draw! Here's the thing: Suppose on that first day or night of Peach, our poor Sad Sack forgets himself, starts davening a weekday שמונה עשרה, and gets as far as the words ברך עלינו... Now what?
The usual rule is that one does not change what he says in שמונה עשרה unless there has been a public announcement to that effect. (Aside: That's why we make the changes in the morning, because not everyone is in shul for ma'ariv. Yes, even during the time of Chazal.) The rule is to ensure we don't have some people praying one way and others a different way; we want the congregation to all be saying the same שמונה עשרה. In this case, however, the congregation has already finished adding the prayer for rain into שמונה עשרה. They finished because everyone is supposed to be davening a Yom Tov שמונה עשרה -- which does not include ברך עלינו, so obviously they are not adding the prayer for rain into the bracha that they are not saying. At the other end of the year, Dec 4th (or 5th) could end up on a Shabbos. Analogously, our Sad Sack would again not add the prayer for rain; this time because the congregation has not yet begun the addition in their שמונה עשרה.
All I have to add is: Ribit! Bang!
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