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Yom Kippur affords us the
opportunity to think about all that we’ve gained, and all that we’ve lost since
last year: Loved ones who have died, new babies who have been born; old
relationships severed, new ones formed; our bodies getting older and weaker,
our spirits finding the strength to pull us through.
There’s another type of accounting
that all of us are doing this year. Twelve months ago, when we last sat
here, the economy had not yet fallen apart.
Al still had a job to go to each
morning, and a steady pay check at the end of the week;
Bob and Cindy didn’t spend
sleepless nights worrying if they could make their mortgage payments, or if
their house would go into foreclosure; Debbie and Ed never thought they’d have
to tell their son Freddy that he’d have to give up his dream of going to an Ivy-league
college and settle on a state school; Gary and Heather hadn’t yet told their
youngest girl Isabel, that they couldn’t afford the same kind of Bat Mitzvah
party that they’d thrown for her older sister Jennifer; Ken and Lisa were still
dreaming about a cruise to celebrate their 25th anniversary; Mark
and Nancy had just joined the country club and were looking forward to playing
golf or using the gym every single weekend; Oliver and Phyllis were still
planning to make use of his pension fund to enable them to retire early and
start travelling all over the world.
A year ago, there were still scores
of family foundations and charitable institutions helping tens of thousands of
people; there were a number of Day Schools still open which provided an
intensive Jewish education, and more families who could afford tuition; there
were numerous synagogues which didn’t have to lay off teachers and office staff
and custodians, or ask the clergy to take pay cuts, or raise membership dues in
order to keep the lights and air conditioning going.
And a year ago most people hadn’t
heard of a guy named Bernie Madoff, and those who had thought he was a
genius, and an incredibly benevolent man.
But a year has passed, and we’ve
all suffered in one way or another from the worst economic crisis since the
Great Depression. No doubt many of our prayers this Yom Kippur are
about money, and security. Perhaps the prayer that resonates most is the one
at the end of the Amidah, where we ask God to write us into the book of Hayim
– Life, B’racha – Blessing, Shalom – Peace, and Parnasah Tova.
Parnasah is the Hebrew and Yiddish word for “sustenance”, “livelihood”, “job”
or “money”.
Another phrase in the Mahzor that
may touch a nerve is “Hadesh Yameynu Ki-Kedem” – “Renew our days as of old” –
or to use the less fancy English: “Please God – make it all like it was
before!” I remember watching TV on September 11, 2001 and thinking “Our lives
will never be the same again!” And yet, for most people, Life did
resume as normal. We pray that the past year has been just some temporary
setback, and in the not too distant future, our financial security will once
again return.
The Clinton White House understood
that financial security was what mattered most to people. “It’s the economy,
stupid!” was their mantra. The Obama White House is fond of another
slogan: “A crisis is a terrible thing to waste!” I’m praying – in addition to
the prayer for Parnasah, that we also see this crisis as an opportunity:
That we utilize the crash as a chance to stop and think about our lives. That
we take this occasion to do some soul searching about what our values are, and
what they should be, about what’s really important in life – and what’s not.
A Hassidic story tells of a poor
Jew in Poland, who worked for the local gentile nobleman. Late one night, the
Duke overheard the Jew praying to God: “Dear Lord, if only I had some land, I
would become rich and be able to take care of my family, and do so many
good things…” Knowing human nature, and wanting to torment the Jew, the
nobleman said: “Itzik – I will answer your prayers. Tomorrow morning,
come to my castle. I will give you all the land that you can circle from
sunrise till sunset. The only requirement is that you must be back here at the
castle when the sun goes down - or you will get nothing.”
Next morning, Itzik stood at the
castle, with his wife and children. As the sun rose, the Duke shouted: “Good
Luck Itzik, and remember – be back by sunset!” Itzik began to walk very fast.
“Be careful”, his wife called out. “Pace yourself!” Don’t put too much stress
on your heart.”
“Stop worrying. I’ll be fine!
I’ve got to go; I can’t waste any time.”
“Daddy, wait for us!” His kids
called out. “Let us come with you!”
“No – stay with your mother. I’ve
got to go – I’ll see you later.” And Yitzik was off. He kept up a brisk pace,
dreaming of all the land he would own by the end of the day, and of all the
things he would be able to do when he was rich.
Mid morning, Itzik passed a friend
who was stuck in the road, with a broken axle on his carriage. “Itzik, thank
God you’ve come by. I can really use a hand here.” “Sorry”’ Itzik said “I’m
in a rush. Can’t stop for even a minute. But tomorrow I’ll be rich, and I’ll
be available for you all day…”
At mid day, Itzik felt hungry. But
he couldn’t stop for lunch. “I’ve got to cover more land. I’ll have plenty of
time to eat tomorrow.”
Itzik kept walking, encompassing
more and more acres. His legs ached and his breathing was heavy, and sweat was
pouring down his face. But he kept pushing on, realizing that at each step, he
was acquiring another parcel of land.
Mid-afternoon, Itzik passed by the
shul, and the gabbai called out: “Join us for Minha – you’re the 10th for a
minyan.” “Can’t help you” Itzik replied. “I’m not able to stop today. But any
other time you need me, I’ll be there for you.” And off he went.
The sun began to set and Itzik
pushed himself even harder to circle more land, and be back at set time.
“Tomorrow I’ll be rich, and have
all the time in the world to spend with my family, and to do good deeds, and to
help out my friends. But now I have to keep pushing, and get more land.” His
mouth was dry, his heart was pounding, his legs were aching – but the hour was
getting late and Itzik had to get back to the castle – so he began to run.
As the sun was setting, he saw the
castle in the distance and pushed himself one last time – and then collapsed on
the ground.
The Duke was waiting for Itzik. He
ordered a servant: “Measure out a plot of land – six feet long three feet wide,
and six feet deep. That’s all that the Jew will need now.”
For too many people, accumulation
of wealth becomes their top priority – pushing everything else aside. We’ve
bought into the notion that being a success in life means being rich. It’s
what we value most, and it’s how we judge others – how we judge ourselves,
We’ve all heard, a thousand times,
jokes about the Jewish mother who constantly bragged about “my son, the
doctor.” What was the reason for her pride? That her child has chosen a noble
profession? That he was saving lives and alleviating suffering? That he was
among the select few who were smart enough to get into, and complete medical
school? Or, that back in the 1950’s and 60’s, when those jokes were
current, a doctor was among the highest paid jobs. Jewish mothers never spoke
with pride about “my son, the fireman”, though they too save lives. Jewish
mothers today are more likely to take pride in “my son, the MBA”, or “my son,
the hedge-fund manager” – not because of the good they might do, but because of
how much money they might make. If Jewish children choose to become teachers
or social workers, do their parents somehow feel let down? Why should being rich
become the highest we aspire to?
When anti-Semites make comments, or
jokes, or slurs about Jews and money, we are offended and insulted. But is
there some truth in their characterizations? What is it about Jews and money?
Some say that the answer is to be
found in biology – that Jews have an innate gift of making money. But that
view comes from the same mindset that sees all Blacks as super athletes, all
Irish as great poets, all Italians as great cooks. Despite what anti-Semites
think, we know there are many poor Jews.
Some think that it’s not our genes,
but our religion. Open up to the Bible and you’ll see passages where we are
taught to be industrious and hard working. Proverbs, chapter six advises us to
imitate the ant, to study its ways and learn how to lay up stores in the summer
and to gather our food at the harvest. And the story of Joseph shows us a man
who rises from slave and prisoner to become Pharaoh’s Economic Czar. But we
know that most Jews aren’t religious, and most haven’t read the Bible.
Some see the explanation in
medieval history. Jews were not permitted to own land and Christians were not
permitted by the church to charge interest to other Christians for loans. Jews
became the default money lenders. Thanks to Shakespeare, the fictional
character of Shylock came to represent the Jew for many people, for many years.
But can you blame what happened in Europe 1,000 years ago for the way Jews
today live their lives?
Some believe that sociology
provides the answer. As new immigrants, Jews struggled to survive and fit in,
and the children of these immigrants were determined to succeed and achieve all
that their parents never could. And whether we want to believe it or not, we
can learn a lot about ourselves by looking at our Asian and Indian neighbors,
and the way they live their lives.
Whatever the explanation, Jews have
developed a recipe for success:
Take a dream of a better
life;
Add the ambition to make it
come true;
Mix in devotion to education;
Bring a chip-on-the-shoulder
fostered by discrimination and restriction;
Include a keen sensitivity
to what’s happening in the world around;
And finish with a measure of creativity
to discover or invent the next great trend.
Typical is the story of Marcus
Goldman, who came to this country from Germany in 1848 at the age of 27. He
started out as a peddler with a horse and cart. He then opened a store in Philadelphia.
He was very successful and moved to lower Manhattan in 1869, where he
became a broker of IOU’s. In 1882, he brought his son-in-law Samuel Sachs into
the business, and in 1896 they joined the NY Stock Exchange, with the company
eventually becoming the full-service investment bank we know today as Goldman
Sachs.
Jews in America became successful
pioneers in many different fields, including business, entertainment, fashion,
cosmetics, real-estate, tax preparation, accounting, finance, journalism and
media, medicine, and law. And in our success, we helped to shape America in the 20th
century, our influence way out of proportion to our
actual numbers.
This success brought us,
individually, and as a people, pride, self-respect, and a great sense of
accomplishment.
Success also brings wealth and
riches, and the ability to acquire anything that the heart desires.
Indulging all that our hearts
desire can bring satisfaction and happiness and joy, but it can also lead to
greed.
And greed can cause us to lose all
perspective on what is right and what is wrong.
Five Rabbis from Deal and Brooklyn, who wear their Tzitzis out to constantly
remind them of God’s law, lost all sense
of right and wrong when they were tempted by the lure of easy money. We are
shocked and embarrassed when we see supposedly pious Jews handcuffed and taken
away by the FBI for money laundering and other crimes. But if such a fall
could happen to them, could it happen to us?
Maybe it’s difficult to identify
with Jews who don’t’ dress like we do… Can we identify with a Jew who does
look like us, and hangs out in the same social circles, and who – until he
went down about this time last year – was probably someone whose life style we
envied and whose success we admired? We’d like to think of Bernie Madoff as
some kind of evil monster, a sociopath who would destroy his clients, his
friends, his family, and even himself. But even scarier than thinking that
someone we’d trust with our life savings could betray us, is contemplating the
possibility that we could become a Bernie Madoff. Dangle in front of us the
amount of money he had access to, and the level of esteem that people
showered on him – and maybe we too would have sold out what we once held
sacred.
Even if we haven’t committed any
crimes, how many of us are guilty of having sold-out? Of having given
up the dreams we once had, of what we hoped to be?
Of having made compromises with our
integrity, allowing ourselves to have done things to make a buck that, while
not illegal, we’re not very proud of.
Of having sacrificed the quality
of our lives, for the quantity of money we could make.
If this moment in our nation’s
history, and this season of the Jewish year are perfect for re-evaluating what
we believe and what we do, then we need to ask ourselves how Judaism would
guide us on issues of money and wealth and riches.
In a wonderful book ‘Judaism: The
Way of Sanctification’ Rabbi Byron Sherwin teaches that there are three ways of
dealing with the world. The first he calls “The Way of Exploitation”. It’s the
pagan approach to life. The world is a jungle, and humans are no different
than animals. The law of the jungle is ‘Kill or be Killed’. Our task
in life is to grab whatever we can, and to satisfy our basic needs, making sure
nothing gets in our way. The world is here for us to exploit and use as we
desire. Money is the means to pleasure and happiness, and so whatever we have
to do to get it, is fair game.
The second great philosophy came as
a response to the first. It is “The Way of Escape.” It was Christianity’s
response to the excesses of the Roman Empire. This approach holds that the
world is evil, and the goal is to avoid being polluted by it. We strive to be
like the angels – pure and uncontaminated, so that we can enter Heaven. Money
is the root of all evil; the less you have to do with it, the better.
Poverty is considered saintliness.
But between these two extremes,
there is a third way – “The Way of Sanctification”, or Judaism. Judaism
believes that the world is neither good nor evil – it is pareve. What counts
is what we do with it. And what we are taught to do is to sanctify it.
Judaism teaches us not to exploit the world, or to escape it, but to make it
special, unique and holy. Making money can be good – if we earn it in a
proper way, and if we use what we’ve earned for worthwhile things.
Next week, during the festival of
Sukkot, we read the Megilah of Kohelet, the Book of Ecclesiastes. According to
tradition, Kohelet was King Solomon, writing at the end of his life. He looks
back on all he has done, and passes on the wisdom he had learned.
Solomon came to the conclusion that
running after riches is as futile as trying to catch the wind. In the end, we
are left disappointed, and with little to show for our efforts. “He who loves
money will never have enough of it, and he who loves wealth will never
attain.” This is not a Rabbi talking, but the richest man of his day. “Been
there, done that” he reminds us. He doesn’t renounce money or the enjoyment of
pleasure; Instead he tells us to always remember what’s truly important
in life. “Go, eat your bread in gladness, drink your wine in joy… Enjoy
happiness with the one you love… And when all is said and done: Revere God, and
observe His mitzvot.”
How significant that we read this
message during Sukkot. At the time of the year when Jews were surrounded by
the riches of the harvest, tradition has us move out of our homes into a
fragile booth. We’re taught: Everything can be lost in a moment. All that
really matters are your family, and your friends, and the simple pleasures you
share with them.
Three hundred years after Solomon,
the prophet Jeremiah brought a similar message to the Jewish people.
“Let not the wise man glory in his
wisdom; let not the strong man take pride in his strength; and let not the rich
man brag about his riches; for God is only impressed by Hesed, and Mishpat and
Tzedaka – by acts of kindness, and by doing what is right, and by helping those
who are in need.
We live in a world in which being
rich and famous have become the highest values. We need to remember, on this
most important day of the year, that Judaism teaches us that the highest values
are being kind and doing good.
In the second century, Shimon ben
Zoma asked a simple question: “Who is rich?” The obvious answer would have
been someone with a lot of money. But Ben Zoma stops us in our tracks with a
zen-like response: “Who is rich? The one who is happy with what he has.”
We’ve come to believe that wealth automatically
brings happiness. It does not. There are plenty of people with lots of money
who are miserable. Material things are necessary for a good life. But
they, by themselves, don’t insure happiness. That can only come from what everyone
already has.
Living in our community requires a
good deal of money;
There is nothing wrong with making
a lot of money, and nothing wrong in wanting and having material things that
can bring us a measure of happiness.
The only problem is if this becomes
all that we are, and all that we care about, if we think that real
happiness is something we can buy.
This is a day on which we pour out
our hearts in prayer to God. What exactly should we pray for?
“Dear God”, we say at the end of
the Amidah. “Give us Life, and blessing, and peace, and Parnasah Tovah –
sustenance”.
Rabbi Joseph Braver noted that only
the last of the four values has the adjective Tovah – meaning ‘good’. We don’t
ask for a good life, for good blessings, for good peace. But we do ask
for good sustenance. What does the extra word there mean?
We pray for Parnasah Tova – good
sustenance. Not just an adequate one but a good one. In other
words: May we have a job and make enough money to meet all our needs.
We pray for Parnasah Tova - good
sustenance. Not only regarding the amount we make, but the kind
of work we do: May our jobs not be too difficult, or too stressful, or put us
in the position to have to make moral compromises, or do things that are
undignified, or wrong.
We pray for Parnasah Tova – good
sustenance. Not just a job for today, but one that will be there tomorrow,
one that is secure, one that enables us to plan for the future.
But most importantly, we pray for Parnasah
Tova – good sustenance – one that enables us to do good:
to spend time with our families; to pursue worthwhile interests and hobbies; to
do mitzvoth that make us more complete Jews, and better human beings.
To those who are out of a job – May
God bless you with Parnasah Tova.
To those who have miserable or
inadequate jobs – may God bless you with Parnasah Tova.
And to young people, who are
beginning to dream about what they want to be when they grow up – May God bless
you with Parnasah Tova.
Finally, I pray: In the coming
year, may we all become rich.
But may we all understand,
That being rich has very little to
do with money.
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