Chapter 1: Tzaddikim Value Their Money More Than Their Body?

In Gemara Chullin 91a, the sages comment on Yaakov Avinu’s decision to cross the Yabbok River alone at night to retrieve some forgotten small jugs:

> “מכאן לצדיקים שחביב עליהם ממונם יותר מגופם”
From here we learn that the possessions of the righteous are more precious to them than their own bodies.

At first glance, this sounds jarring. Could the righteous truly care more about money than life or health?

The answer is absolutely not. No tzaddik would risk his life for wealth. The Torah teaches clearly: “ונשמרתם מאד לנפשותיכם” — one must guard his life. Throughout Jewish history, righteous people fled cities and fortunes to save their families, abandoning all rather than perish for possessions.

So what does this Gemara mean?

Chapter 2: The Deeper Meaning – Gift vs. Earned

The answer lies in understanding the difference between your body and your possessions:

Your body was given to you without your input. You didn’t choose to be born. You didn’t choose your form or faculties. That was a gift — from Hashem through your parents.

But your money and property, though ultimately decreed by Hashem, come through your actions, your choices, your journey.

The tzaddik cherishes his possessions not because they are expensive, but because they are the result of his moral and spiritual labor. Whether it’s a large estate or a small jar — it reflects his path, his merits, his interaction with Divine providence.

That’s why even a forgotten jar matters. It’s not materialism. It’s accountability. A righteous person doesn’t waste because he sees everything as entrusted by Hashem and earned through life’s decisions.

Chapter 3: Yaakov’s Small Jugs and Spiritual Completeness

Yaakov, despite his great wealth, turns back for some forgotten “פכים קטנים” — small vessels. Why?

Because they too were part of his Divine lot. Hashem didn’t give them for no reason. Whether small or large, they were tools for holiness.

Later, when facing Esav, Yaakov gives lavish gifts and says:

> “יֶשׁ לִי כֹּל” – “I have everything.”

Esav replies:

> “יֶשׁ לִי רָב” – “I have a lot.”

Two men. Two fortunes. Two philosophies.

Esav’s “רב” means: “I have much, but I could have more.” He’s always missing something. He is a chaser, never full.

Yaakov’s “כל” means: “I have exactly what I need.” He feels complete. Whole. Blessed with his portion.

Yaakov’s return for the small jugs wasn’t a money grab — it was a spiritual declaration:

> “Whatever Hashem has given me — large or small — is part of my mission. Nothing is random. Nothing is waste.”

Chapter 4: What if Esav Took Everything?

Yaakov understood that if Esav were to rob him of everything, he’d still be whole. Why?
Because his possessions are not his identity — they are tools, temporarily entrusted by Hashem.

He doesn’t say “יש לי כל” because he’s rich.
He says it because he is spiritually complete.

Whether he has only small jars or overflowing wealth, he views it all as tailored by Hashem — and thus “כל”, perfect.

Chapter 5: The Chaser Mindset – When “A Lot” is Never Enough

Esav represents the mindset of lack — even with wealth.

> A man with $5 billion sits in a room with someone worth $35 billion — and he feels poor.

This is not about money. It’s about comparison, ego, and spiritual emptiness.

That’s why Esav says “רב” — he has a lot, but he’s never finished. He doesn’t know how to feel satisfied.

In contrast, Yaakov teaches: if you see your possessions as gifts and missions from Hashem, you feel whole, not hungry.

Chapter 6: A Final Word — What Are Your Small Jars?

We all have our “small jars” — little things we overlook:

A minor opportunity to do good.

A habit we keep, even if others mock it.

A small item earned honestly and preserved faithfully.

The tzaddik doesn’t value money — he values meaning. He doesn’t worship wealth — he respects the Divine trust placed in what he receives.

That is the true meaning of:

> “חביב עליהם ממונם יותר מגופם”
“Their money is more precious to them than their body” —
Because it reflects their input, their effort, their spiritual path.

And so, whether rich or poor, the tzaddik always says:

> “יֶשׁ לִי כֹּל” — I have everything.
Because I have what Hashem meant for me. And that is enough.

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