Jumping the gun (or, "the pot calling the kettle black")

Last night, I was walking out of Goldberg's supermarket in Brooklyn when a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. With the windows down and the sound system blaring, four teens glared out from the car, looking cool as they cruised the neighborhood.

At any other time of the year such a scene wouldn't necessarily bother me the way it did last night. Maybe I'm just sensitive to the time of year, but I felt my temper rising at what seemed to be their brazen disregard for the Bein HaMeitzarim. I mean - come on! 

Initially I thought all these terrible, angry thoughts aimed at them and what I judged as their insensitivity to our national plight. We're they so desensitized to our Galut that they could act out so publicly? Really? A little respect!

Out of nowhere, it hit me: my attitude toward them was no better than their behavior! How could I judge them so harshly? And to the extent that I felt such anger toward them...?

My actions were as "ugly" as I thought theirs was!

My ayin ra'ah probably contributed more to our continued exile than their listening to music during the Three Weeks.

Humbled, I drove home with a resolve to not be so quick to judge...