The first thing my daughter did when she turned 16 was schedule herself a Learner’s Permit test so she could begin learning how to drive.
I was hesitant. In South Africa, where I grew up, you can only start at 17, but my daughter is ambitious and determined, and she went and passed the test.
This week, she came home from camp and asked me to teach her how to drive.
“I got this!” I thought. We hopped in the car, I gave her the driver’s seat and told her to start driving.
She went for the ignition and I stopped her. “You need to do something first,” I reminded her. She thought and then realized, “Oh, my seatbelt!”
Then she turned on the ignition and started driving. I guess all her experience with bumper cars and go-karts paid off, because she knew what she was doing!
The only problem was, she did it all at approximately 3 miles per hour, literally inching forward. When it was time to turn, she stopped, checked all her mirrors, checked her blind spot, turned on the indicator, checked all her mirrors and blindspot again, and finally made the turn at the same 3 miles per hour, all while checking and rechecking everything over and over. All this even though there were no other cars in sight!
I wondered to myself: How am I being so patient here? I’m usually much more impatient!
And then I had a deja vu moment. I remembered how excited I was to start driving close to 30 years ago. I would offer to drive my parents car at every opportunity, eager for the freedom and the experience.
Then I recalled an incident that happened in those early stages, driving my father’s brand new car. We were on our way to pay a shiva visit to a congregant, and I pulled up at the big brown electric gate. Somehow, instead of pressing the brakes, I pressed on the gas! The car lurched forward and crashed into the gate, damaging both the gate and the car pretty badly! (That’s when I learned you must use the same leg for the break and the accelerator.)
Even though it’s been close to three decades, my experiences are clear in my mind, and I was able to have more patience than usual.
In a spiritual sense, we are all driving at all times. The car is our body, with it’s 248 organs (corresponding to the 248 positive mitzvot) and 365 sinews (corresponding to the 365 prohibitions). By driving our cars carefully and correctly, we make this world a more spiritual place.
It’s all too easy to get into the groove of things and switch to autopilot. That’s what most of us do when we drive. But new drivers like my daughter are cautious and aware and tuned in at every step. That’s how we need to approach our spiritual service.
Where am I driving? Which way am I heading? Which turn will get me there? Whether it’s putting on tefillin in the morning, making an effort to get to shul to pray with a minyan, giving charity, or connecting with others … we can’t just zoom through it on autopilot. It needs to be with care and concern and forethought. Then our cars will stay in good condition and help drive us to Redemption with the coming of Moshiach.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Uriel Vigler