Timeless Torah

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, consists primarily of civil and criminal laws. The juxtaposition of this section with the Ten Commandments of Sinai provides a startling insight into Judaism. To G-d, religion is not mere ritual that separates Church and State. On the contrary, all areas of life are intertwined, and the business office offers as many opportunities for holiness as does the Synagogue. Thus, one can open the prayer book, as well as the checkbook, to discover sanctity.

It was the Rebbe’s 84th birthday, and the chassidim were finishing their morning prayers. Suddenly, throughout the synagogue urgent whispering traveled at lightning speed, “The Rebbe is giving out dollars for tzedakah!” Within moments hundreds lined up. One by one, they received a brief blessing and a dollar to be given to charity. This was only the beginning. Thereafter, week after week, the Rebbe would stand for hours on end, receiving people from all walks of life, dispensing blessings, advice, encouragement, and dollars to be distributed for charity.

The Rebbe explained this new ‘custom’ by quoting his predecessor, “When two people meet, something good should result for a third.” Obviously, the Rebbe desired to elevate each encounter to involve a mitzvah. He also wished to do likewise for each individual, promoting them from being merely a ‘taker’ to being a ‘giver’.

But why use the medium of the dollar? Why not communicate a Torah thought that each person could then share with a third party? The almighty dollar is something we pray and slave for...and when we acquire it we blame it for many of our ills. In particular, two accusations are leveled against the dollar: a) It has usurped the position, once occupied by the spiritual, to become the highest striving of man; the dollar is god. b) It is the cause of untold strife. It has pitted brother against brother and nation against nation. But should a piece of flimsy green paper be blamed? Is it ‘his’ fault that we have transformed the ultimate means into the ultimate end? What does the dollar itself say about its intended purpose?

By divine providence, the designers of the dollar inscribed on it two key phrases. The first is, In G-d we trust. “Not I,” says the dollar, “can provide you with solace from the pain of life or security against its uncertainties. Do not trust in me, trust in G-d. Do not serve me, but use me to serve G-d.”

The second is E pluribus Unum (out of many, one). The world we perceive with our eyes is a world of great diversity. Our mission is to merge these unrelated forces. True, people are different, and money can deepen those differences, when it is used to hoard wealth, reward privilege and exploit the needy. But money is far more suited to unite. It is the ultimate abstract, converting goods, talent and toil into a commodity that can easily be traded and shared by all. It should be utilized as a medium of generosity and cooperation, a consolidator of resources to a common, G-dly end. In that vein, the dollar bill is possibly the most spiritual thing you own. Not your prayer book. Not your mezuzah. Your dollar!

Let me explain. “Material” things are commonly understood to be concrete and discrete, while “spiritual” is usually more abstract and encompassing. Isn’t that the essence of money? The ultimate abstraction of the human product. One person expends his time, energy and talent baking bread. A second writes poetry. A third builds furniture, or writes legal briefs. Others drive trucks, teach schoolchildren, concoct medicines, repair power lines, or debate philosophy. Each of these things is isolated from each other. A page of poetry will not produce a loaf of bread, and a bushel of tomatoes will not light a road at night. But the human being has found a way to extract from all these things their common essence, a unit of human creativity and need. The dollar is their universal intangible that can be transferred, bartered, or converted.

Look again at the crumpled green paper. What is it? It’s a loaf of bread, a minute of wisdom, a dozen kilowatt hours of electricity, a tenth of a toy, a twenty-thousandth of a car, a three-hundred-millionth of a Van Gogh. A piece of human life that can be folded and put in your pocket.

Spirituality should bring you closer to G-d. Here the dollar delivers as well. Every mitzvah ‘donates’ a specific limb or trait to bind a person to G-d. You contribute your intellect to study Torah, your feet to go to shul, your joy to celebrate the holidays, and your faith to believe.

There is one mitzvah that offers the total person. When you give a coin to charity, you give your very life. Because with this coin, you could have purchased the piece of bread that holds body and soul together. And to earn this coin, you devoted your entire being, meaning all of your talents and most of your waking time. With every other mitzvah, we connect to G-d with something; with our mind, our stomach, our home. With charity, we ourselves are the connection.