Jews pray three times a day to be blessed with material wealth. Yet precisely because so much good can be done with money, it can be a great source of tension, friction and worse[1]. The challenge of wealth – to our character, our sensitivity, our modesty – can be greater than the challenge of poverty; excessive wealth is all too often a great curse. There is no need to elaborate how many families have been torn apart over money.
My father z”l would often tell us how he and his five siblings never fought, something he partially attributed to the fact that growing up during the Depression years they had little to fight about. This was in great contrast to his all-too-frequent experience in the rabbinate where he saw family after family torn apart because of disputes over money where there was more than enough for everyone but somehow not enough for anyone.
As is well known disputes over money are the number one cause of fighting between spouses. It is because of the importance and necessity of money that the Torah demands we be most sensitive – not to mention honest - in our handling of money. It was this sensitivity that led to the sumptuary laws, which limited the display of wealth at smachot, instituted by Jewish communities over the years.
The need to develop our sensitivity to those who cannot afford what others have is not a rabbinic invention. “When Rav Dimi came, he said: How do we know that if one is his neighbour's creditor for a maneh and knows that he does not have it [the monies owing], he may not even pass in front of him? From the verse, ‘you shall not be to him as a creditor’ (Shemot 22:24). Rav Ammi and Rav Assi say: It is as though he subjected him to a twofold trial, for it is written, You have caused man to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water’” (Tehilim 66:12, Bava Metzia 75a).
Wow! If someone owes me money but is having financial difficulties not only can’t I ask him for my money back, I must avoid the person altogether. No walking over to him at Kiddush to wish him Shabbat shalom, no sitting next to him in shul or taking a nice (out of the way) stroll past his home when he is playing ball with his kids. When one recalls how much emphasis Judaism puts on greeting people, this law is even more remarkable, yet most logical. We are mandated to greet people as such makes them feel good; to do so when someone is struggling to repay a loan may cause them pain, even if that is not one's intent. We may truly mean well but we must be so sensitive to the feelings of one who cannot pay that we literally must avoid them.
We have all seen how money can bring out the best and worst in people. For good reason the honour system has little place when dealing with money. The more safeguards and controls the better – regardless of the level of piety of the other[2]. To trust another blindly is actually a violation of Torah law. “Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav: He who has money and lends it without witnesses is in violation of, ‘and you shall not put a stumbling block before the blind.’ Resh Lakish said: He brings a curse upon himself…” If one wants a sure recipe for trouble just enter into a business deal without any outside evidence of the details. Giving a loan on honour alone is a beautiful, but foolhardy notion; it is an invitation for the borrower to deny[3] the loan making one an enabler of sin – and poorer for the effort.
Lending money without witnesses is not the only way to mismanage one’s money. There is little that can be more well-intentioned than giving money to one’s children. While at times appropriate, it can also be most foolhardy, helping children avoid responsibility and accountability. It can be, if one is not careful, a recipe for disaster. Those who expect others to bail them out are prone to a third action – or shall we say inaction – heavily criticized by our Sages; that of one “who is badly-off in one town and does not go [to seek his fortune] elsewhere.” In the worldview of the Sages if one could not make a living in one place one moved somewhere else where economic circumstances might be better.
Our Sages had little pity for such people including them in the category of those “who cry out and are not answered.” Those who bring misfortune upon themselves should not expect others – whether on earth or in heaven – to bail them out.
[1] With the spiritual and physical worlds' parallel aspects of creation, whatever is true in the physical world must have a corresponding truth in the spiritual world. Newton’s third law of motion that for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction has a spiritual corollary – the greater the potential for good the greater the potential for evil - and vice versa.
[2] Even if there is little fear that the pious would knowingly deny a loan – not always a given – without writing it down one can easily forget the details, an experience that it not at all uncommon.
[3] Rashi notes that the borrower may be tempted to deny the loan, though in practice he may not actually do so, implying that even the thought of stealing is sinful. While a sincere but unsuccessful attempt to do a mitzva is deemed to be a mitzva itself such is not the case with sinful thoughts, where one is culpable only for one’s actions.
Perhaps this leniency only applies to mitzvoth between man and G-d where violating them is not a reflection on one’s character. However even thinking about theft and other sins against man is a serious flaw in one’s character and giving one the opportunity to even think about stealing makes you into an enabler of sin.
This idea is in line with the Rambam’s thesis that when it comes to laws between man and G-d one can – perhaps should – say I would love to (i.e.) eat a cheeseburger but what can I do? It goes against the will of G-d. But to say I wish I could kill that guy but I won't because it’s against the law reflects very poorly on that person.