Jewish Wisdom For A Bad Economy
Rabbi Ron Shulman
“We believe that the rabbi should not stoop to the discussion of economic problems” wrote a Jewish paper in February 1936. “He is not a teacher of economics, but of religion. What we need today is to make our people understand that our economic, social, and political problems are basically personal religious ones.”
I partially agree. I have no intention of teaching you anything about economics. I do not believe, however, that our current economic problem is a religious one. But there is a religious response.
The current economic downturn impacts all of us in a variety of ways. During difficult times such as these, we want to make sense out of the challenges we face and the Jewish identity we cherish. We seek the wisdom of Jewish tradition.
Repeatedly, I hear about three specific emotional and personal issues weighing on our hearts and minds. We will address these from the perspective of Jewish values.
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We are angry.
Anger is a dangerous defense. It’s often honest. It can be legitimate. But anger is dangerous. It hides what we are really feeling: our vulnerability, our fear, or our unfulfilled desires. Anger can lead us to say or do what we don’t mean to. Anger hardens our hearts. It closes us off from others. Anger often gets in the way of resolution and understanding.
We are all angry today, and we have a real reason to be. None of us caused this recession.
We work hard. We follow the rules. Some of us are now out of work. Others of us are working harder and earning less. Most of us have lost savings and net worth. We’re nervous about our bills. We worry about our children’s educations. We have to adjust our expectations about retirement, or our lifestyles right now. We are responding today to circumstances not of our own making, for which others are culpable, and for which we must be responsible.
We are angry. Yet our goal has to be to direct our anger into something constructive, transforming it into something useful as we make our way toward the future.
Rabbinic tradition teaches the consequences of anger. Toward the end of the Book of Numbers we read of Moses’ last endeavor as leader of the Children of Israel. The Torah states, “Moses became angry with the commanders of the army” who did not properly follow his orders.
In his anger, the rabbis suggest that Moses lost his perspective. He ordered more killing. He made things worse. The sage Reish Lakish learns from Moses’ angry reaction, “every person who gets angry, if they are wise, they lose their wisdom.”
Rava bar Rav Huna goes even further. He teaches that anger distorts our values. “Even God is not important to an angry person.”
Another sage, Rabbi Elai states that we can measure a person’s true character by three traits. “How he indulges, how he spends, and how he gets angry.”
We are angry. What matters now is how we express that anger.
Don’t overreact. Don’t make any decisions while you are angry. Don’t decide the things you must about your family’s situation, or employment, or your finances in an angry state. Identify of what you are afraid, or to what you feel vulnerable. Then try to take the necessary steps to overcome those feelings. Strive to regain your calm, so that you can think wisely, strategically, and in consonance with your values.
We also can’t shut out what we believe to be important in our lives. Directing anger toward others, especially those whom we don’t know personally, or associates who may have to deliver bad news to us, prevents us from being our best selves. Anger at your economic circumstance is no reason to shut out goodness or inspiration. In fact, anger may be the reason to seek them.
Live in this economy as if this downturn is a long lasting adjustment. In some ways it may be, even as our individual circumstances do improve. That’s why the best way to redirect our anger is to demand accountability and responsibility - of ourselves and of those with whom we work or depend on for service.
We can nurture a sense of collective responsibility in society today. It was the bad choices, poor ethics, and greed of some that put us all here. We need to transform our anger at all of that to motivate proper and credible behavior.
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Historians note that during the Great Depression religious leaders identified “a spiritual depression” among their congregants. Troubled by their financial woes, focused on the need to provide for themselves and their families, many people, many Jews, changed their familiar patterns of religious behavior.
Though attendance at worship declined as a symptom of this mood, as did synagogue membership and religious school enrollments, one youth expressed the real malaise by reporting, “With the Depression things changed with my father even in religious practice. Before, he never failed to take us to the synagogue every single Saturday. After the crash he didn’t seem to care anymore.”
Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan understood. “In my heart of hearts I know that with the insane and stupid economic order under which we are living, it is absolutely fatuous to expect millions of people who are starving to take life religiously.”
Money was the presenting problem. Spirit was the real concern. Today we recognize the Great Depression as a low point for religious feeling in America. Tried by calamity, some people lost their faith in God, and in humanity. Many individuals felt less dignity and personal pride.
Ironically, many Jewish leaders hoped that the Great Depression would spark a spiritual revival. It didn’t. I also find that ironic. When spirits are down, our life routines disrupted, that is precisely the time we need something more to believe in, something powerful to celebrate, a source for hope and renewal. The role of religion, certainly of religious community, is to remind us of that, providing uplift, encouragement, and support.
Many of us today also carry a spiritual burden during this recession, a lessened sense of our own dignity and merit. We ask whether our best efforts, our work and dedication, were worth it.
The answer is yes. Jewish tradition teaches that our effort to earn a livelihood is part of our dignity. The Talmudic Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman said that Parnasah, earning a living, is greater than Geulah, God’s redeeming the world, because we do it.” Rabbenu Bachya, a 13th century Spanish scholar, comments. “This active participation of man in the creation of his own wealth is a sign of spiritual greatness.”
We imitate God by all that we create and produce. When it is slow, we are of no less importance. We need to understand this about ourselves, especially when we struggle with personal or financial stress at home, as we face challenges at work, and worries about the world.
We are more than what we own, more than what we acquire, and more than what we lose. Judaism teaches, first and foremost, that at all times we are representations of God in the world. Our value and worth, to quote Proverbs, are “far beyond rubies.”
The inherent value of human life reflects God’s image. We represent something of God in the world. Our dignity is inherent.
The belief that every person is a Tzelem Elohim, an image of God, is the first and most fundamental moral claim of Judaism. I’ve told you this before. I want to say it again. It is who we are that matters. Don’t measure your personal dignity and value by any other standard.
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Times like these require that we be clear about our values.
Consider that possession is illusory. Ask a natural disaster victim or your financial advisor. What we own is on loan to us. It is ours to live with and to care for, and only for a while. Then it is gone. A radical idea of Judaism is that everything belongs to God.
“Rabbi Shimon said, ‘Avoid being one who borrows and does not repay, for borrowing from a person is like borrowing from God.’” All debts come due, all obligations must be fulfilled. To think otherwise is foolish, or selfish, or arrogant.
I speak with due respect for each and every one of you, of us. We live as members of the wealthiest Jewish community in history. In great sensitivity to all that properly concerns us, what other Jewish community, in what other time and place, had the opportunity to lose this much wealth?
Let’s be clear about our values. It’s not the money we prize. (Or should I say, it shouldn’t be the money we prize?) We appreciate the purposes our earning and saving enable us to serve.
The people we love are important to us. The help we provide is important to us. The cause we assist is important to us. The problem we help solve is important to us. Even our work is important to many of us. What we do, who we do it with, and why are all important to us. Money is a necessary means to essential ends.
The 12th century Jewish philosopher Yehudah HaLevi explains this truth in his presentation of Judaism known as the Kuzari. “The decreasing of wealth is not an act of piety if such wealth happens to have been gained in a lawful way…especially for one whose desire is to spend his money for the sake of God.”
For the sake of God, for our sakes, for the sake of whatever each of us cares about most, it now may be that we will live with less. Less than we had, and probably less than we want. We’ll need to live more focused on what we have and do, more focused on what we ought to have and do, and more deliberate about what we’d like to have and do. These choices will reflect our values. But before we make our choices, we’ll need to know our own priorities, what we believe in and value most highly.
If you haven’t already started that conversation at home, you should. Years ago my parents taught me this lesson. Happiness doesn’t result from how much we have. We all know fortunate people who live unfulfilled, and individuals of modest means who are very content. Our attitude matters more than our assets. Our lives appreciate in value every day. A bad economy reminds us. All too often we don’t consider our true worth.
I remember a late night talk radio host I used to listen to during long car drives. A caller would ask him, “So how are you?” He answered, “Better than most, not as good as some!” Or as Ben Zoma taught, “Who is rich? HaSameah b’helko, one who is happy with what he has.”
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I hope you’ll remember some of what Jewish wisdom directs. Don’t respond in anger. Don’t change your proper patterns of behavior. Measure your net worth by the good you do, the goodness you value, and the people you love.
© 2009 Rabbi Ronald J. Shulman
