I Smashed Your Car, Rabbi!

Rushing out the door on Friday afternoon on my way to shul a few weeks ago, I noticed my car had a flat tire, which seemed strange since I had parked it literally an hour earlier in perfect condition.

There’s never a good time for car trouble, but this was particularly inconvenient as I was leaving town immediately after Shabbat and changing tires is not something I learned at rabbinical college!

Fortunately, my good friend Motti Seligson was able to come over right after Shabbat to help me install the spare, and I was on my way.

Not two weeks later I approached my car and noticed the entire front had been ripped off! A note on the windshield read, “Sorry for doing this; I called the police and filed a report,” but of course when I followed up, no report was filed and I had no way of locating the mysterious note-writer.

In this week’s parsha we read about the first seven of the ten plagues. When Moses initially approached Pharaoh and demanded he release the Jews at G-d’s command, Pharaoh asked, “Who is this G-d? I have never heard of him.”

Hence, the purpose of the ten plagues was specifically to teach Pharaoh that there is a G-d and He is in charge. Indeed, by the time the plagues had ended, Pharaoh was well and truly aware of G-d’s power.

We know that every small detail in our lives is divinely ordained. Every encounter we have, every decision we make, has a purpose and message. Nothing is random.  

Even seemingly meaningless incidents, like my flat tire and smashed car was subtle messages from G-d, and it’s up to us to try and decipher them and respond appropriately. Even if we’re not sure the exact message, we can never go wrong by increasing in mitzvot—giving more tzedakah, learning more Torah, being kinder to those around us.

This week’s parsha is that reminder we all need from time to time: G-d it there, running the world, orchestrating our every encounter.